He made a little explosive huff. “Don’t be ridiculous, Detective. I was here too and I didn’t see anyone. And that first time, in the hospital, no one saw anything then either. The psychiatrist—and surely he should know—said it was a hallucination. The fact she’s had another one is quite worrying.”

“More, or less worrying than there being a real person outside your house, staring in through the windows?”

“Well, that’s a stupid thing to say. Who would do that, anyway?”

“I don’t know, Mr Tranter,” said Harper. “But perhaps you do.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” said Patrick, and stepped backwards into the house before shutting the door with a firm click.

Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

JULY 22ND
LUNCHTIME

When her phone pinged with the message alert, Harper almost didn’t bother to check it. It wouldn’t be Amy, it never was. A week had passed now, and she’d stopped kidding herself it was ever going to happen, which was totally fine with her. Best to keep things simple. She raised her binoculars to her eyes, made a note of the time and took a sip of water. She unwrapped an energy bar, then glanced at her phone and immediately lost her appetite.

How about a cuppa? I’m free now xx

At first, Harper wondered if Amy had made a mistake, if she’d meant to send the message to someone else. Then she thought, don’t be stupid, of course she sent it to the right person. That was just Amy’s style—she wouldn’t have even noticed that a week had passed, or for a moment suspected that Jo had been waiting pathetically for this text. Harper debated with herself how long she ought to leave it before sending a response. She lasted about thirty seconds.

Great. I’m on a job, but it must be time for a break.

Ooo anything good?

Surveillance. Nothing doing though. Where shall we meet?

Tell me where you are, I’ll come to you. Exciting!

Before she could think about it properly she fired off the street name in reply—but as soon as she pressed Send she wanted to take the message back. She had parked on a side street in town, in a spot within sight of the office of a company called Strategy Outsource Marketing. Patrick Tranter’s car had been in the car park there for the past fifteen minutes. She really wasn’t sure if she wanted to explain to Amy how she’d come to be there, or exactly what job she was on. Ah, maybe she won’t ask, thought Harper.

Ten minutes later, Amy knocked on the passenger-side window.

“Darling,” she said, and when she’d settled herself inside and handed Harper a hot cup of coffee, “what’s happening? Who are we looking for?”