He got to the doctor’s office ten minutes later, walking so fast that his legs were aching and the healing cut on his forehead was throbbing as hard as it had when he was in Standedge, just after the attack. The parking lot was small, and he located Emma’s Subaru easily. He’d only driven it once, but knew he’d be fine once he got the hang of it.

He unlocked it and slung his bag inside, slinging himself in after it. He turned the keys and the engine roared into life. He put it in Reverse and the car lurched backward. He pulled away and into the busy London street, the car buckling somewhat under his quick gear changes.

But it didn’t matter.

He was on his way.

Chapter Fifty-One

He got to Marsden just before nightfall, lurching into the station parking lot and shutting off the engine. He’d just had a very heated conversation with Emma, who, upon finding her car missing, had checked the CCTV and seen him take it. Robin didn’t tell her much, knowing she wouldn’t understand; he just told her that he was sorry for taking the car without asking and that he would be home soon. Emma was no less angry with this assurance, but he thought, somewhat funnily, that she couldn’t really do much to stop him. She couldn’t exactly come get him again, not without a car.

Robin ended by hanging up, knowing that when everything was said and done, Emma would understand and forgive him. And she would also understand that right at this moment, she was not Robin’s biggest worry.

He put his backpack on and started down the road to The Hamlet. Then he stopped. He could go and confront Amber with what he knew and make a big mess of it, or he could be more tactical about it. He needed backup, and didn’t Sally fit the bill perfectly?

He cut down the houses on the road to the woods, and The Red Door, going as fast as his aching legs would carry him. He was through the tree line before he knew it and was instantly surprised by a duet of baas. The two sheep were standing by a tree watching him, greeting him as though he’d never left. He ignored them and kept going until he found the hill. Sally’s shack was at the bottom.

He ran down the hill and rounded the mound of bushes and leaves to enter The Red Door. He stopped, confronted by the imposing door. But something was wrong. The door stood ajar. He knew Sally would never leave it like that, not with her attitude, let alone how much expensive hardware was in there.

He pushed open the door, bypassing the kitchen and entering the hallway. There was the familiar blue glow of the screens emanating from the door.