Clare hadn’t appreciated just how loud her mobile ring tone was until it cut through the middle of Tom’s speech. She felt her face grow warm as she snapped open her bag and tried to find the mute button. She felt the eyes of the room on her and heard Tom making a joke about Clare never changing. She didn’t dare look at Gillian’s face. She had her phone now but her fingers seemed to have turned into thumbs as she struggled with the buttons. The DCI took the phone from her, flicked the mute button and the ringing ceased. The phone still buzzed in his hands, though, and Clare saw from the display it was Chris, Chris West, her detective sergeant. He knew they would be at the wedding. It was her weekend off. So why was he calling? Ignoring the DCI’s frown, she took back her phone and rose from her seat.

‘Sorry,’ she said to the other guests at the table. ‘Better take this.’ Smiling an apology to Tom, she walked swiftly through the tables. The call had gone to voicemail by the time she reached the reception area. Without waiting to hear the message she redialled Chris’s number.

‘Sorry, Clare,’ he said, ‘interrupting your wedding. I thought it would go straight to voicemail.’

‘What’s up?’

‘We’ve had a shooting.’

‘You’re joking?’

‘Nope. Country house south of the town.’

‘ID’d the victim?’

‘Not yet. I’m heading over there now. Thought you’d want to know.’

‘I’ll leave now,’ Clare said. ‘Two hours at most.’

‘No,’ Chris said. ‘It’s fine. There’s no point in you rushing back. Don’t spoil your day.’

‘Pfft,’ Clare said. ‘It’s the wedding from hell. And the only interesting guests have just left.’

‘Seriously,’ Chris said. ‘If you head back now the DCI will kill me. You know he will.’

‘You leave him to me,’ Clare said.

A burst of applause told Clare that Tom’s speech was over and she moved across to the function room door and peered in. She caught the DCI’s eye and motioned to him to follow her out. ‘We have to go back,’ she said as he appeared.

‘Eh?’

‘There’s been a shooting.’

He drew her over to a corner of the foyer and indicated a small table with two armchairs. ‘Tell me,’ he said.

Clare stood her ground. ‘I’ll explain on the way. I’ll just let Reception know we’re checking out.’

He put a hand on her arm. ‘Clare, will you just stop for a minute and tell me what’s happened.’

She looked pointedly at his hand and he withdrew it.

‘Please?’ he said. ‘At least sit down.’

She sat, perching on the edge of the chair. ‘That phone call. It was Chris.’

‘That’s your work phone,’ the DCI said. ‘Why didn’t you switch it off?’