Back Little Doubt Save as PDF
Chapters (65)
  1. Cover
  2. Chapter 1
  3. Chapter 2
  4. Chapter 3
  5. Chapter 4
  6. Chapter 5
  7. Chapter 6
  8. Chapter 7
  9. Chapter 8
  10. Chapter 9
  11. Chapter 10
  12. Chapter 11
  13. Chapter 12
  14. Chapter 13
  15. Chapter 14
  16. Chapter 15
  17. Chapter 16
  18. Chapter 17
  19. Chapter 18
  20. Chapter 19
  21. Chapter 20
  22. Chapter 21
  23. Chapter 22
  24. Chapter 23
  25. Chapter 24
  26. Chapter 25
  27. Chapter 26
  28. Chapter 27
  29. Chapter 28
  30. Chapter 29
  31. Chapter 30
  32. Chapter 31
  33. Chapter 32
  34. Chapter 33
  35. Chapter 34
  36. Chapter 35
  37. Chapter 36
  38. Chapter 37
  39. Chapter 38
  40. Chapter 39
  41. Chapter 40
  42. Chapter 41
  43. Chapter 42
  44. Chapter 43
  45. Chapter 44
  46. Chapter 45
  47. Chapter 46
  48. Chapter 47
  49. Chapter 48
  50. Chapter 49
  51. Chapter 50
  52. Chapter 51
  53. Chapter 52
  54. Chapter 53
  55. Chapter 54
  56. Chapter 55
  57. Chapter 56
  58. Chapter 57
  59. Chapter 58
  60. Chapter 59
  61. Chapter 60
  62. Acknowledgements
  63. Canelo Crime
  64. About the Author
  65. Also by Rachel Lynch

As she left the house, her breath escaped in vapour clouds. There must have been a frost last night, she thought. She opened the garage and unlocked her Range Rover Sport, throwing her running bag, gloves and hat on the passenger seat. She’d wear a jacket to go into town. The garage closed automatically as she pulled away and headed along the shore of the lake, passing walkers heading out to the fells, swaddled in layers of thermal kit. Their faces looked ruddy and fresh. Her favourite season in the Lakes was spring, when life burst through the hard ground and announced itself in swathes of colour, but autumn came a close second. The dark nights, sitting in front of an open fire preparing for Christmas with the kids, and fewer tourists all made it feel less crazy than the summer.

After her run, she needed to do some shopping in Keswick, but she planned to have everything done in time to get home and take her son to football. Jordan was a sports addict, while her daughter, Millie, hated any kind of physical activity – except skiing – preferring piano and Spanish. The children attended a private school on the outskirts of Keswick. At sixteen and fourteen, they were almost – but not quite – old enough to be left alone in the house overnight. She’d discussed with Thomas the idea of stealing away for a dirty weekend somewhere and decided that they’d perhaps try it next year. If it proved to be a success, and they didn’t come back to the detritus and carnage of a teenage party, they’d even go abroad.

The clear blue sky reminded her of her wedding day. They’d married in November, and everyone had said she should wear fur, but the sky had been just like today: bright blue and clear. It would be their twentieth anniversary next week, and Thomas had bought her a spectacular ruby ring, which they’d chosen together. It probably wasn’t a piece to wear daily, but Ella couldn’t help herself, and she admired it affectionately as she tapped the steering wheel. They’d insured it for ten thousand pounds. It was a whole band of the claret stones, in an intricate medieval-style setting.