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Back Stalker Save as PDF
Chapters (66)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55
  58. 56
  59. 57
  60. 58
  61. 59
  62. EPILOGUE
  63. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  64. MORE FROM GEMMA ROGERS
  65. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  66. ABOUT BOLDWOOD BOOKS

‘Eve, I’m going on maternity leave today. I’ll be passing your case over to the team and one of them will be in touch to introduce themselves. Please don’t worry. We will find him.’

But I did worry. I worried because even with everything I’d learnt there was no hard evidence to prove he was the man behind my attack. No evidence from the attack on Sophie and the nameless girl in the alley. I had nothing to offer the police but a name and now Emmerson was leaving to have her baby; I knew no one would contact me. The case had already gone cold and I was sure she hadn’t planned to touch base today. I just caught her off guard. My decision was made; I couldn’t walk away.

Wednesday 24 January 2018

After work, I spent the rest of Wednesday going through the flat, room by room, knowing someone would be here in the coming days. I hadn’t kept anything incriminating and got rid of most of what I found. Old receipts, bills and paperwork had been distributed in various rubbish bins around town. The PetCam box, instructions and eBay receipt destroyed too. None of it could be used against me, but I had to be sure. I didn’t want to make it easy for the police to build a profile of my life. The place was well overdue for a spring clean anyway.

Ben caught me on my hands and knees digging through the sofa to see what had been stuffed down the sides. The handheld hoover at my feet, ready for action.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Spring cleaning,’ I answered and, amused, he left me to it.

Every room was cleaned and picked apart, except for his. It was amazing how much stuff I’d accumulated since moving in. Much of it down to spending habits that I’d done my best to curb lately.

As well as the rubbish, I had three bags of books, clothes and DVDs for the charity shop too, which I dropped off on my way to Pulse. Ian didn’t show and for that I was grateful. After a two mile run, I spent the rest of my time on the free weights, lifting as much as I could. Tearing muscle tissue and berating myself for not lifting heavier weights sooner. I wanted to be as strong as I could be for Saturday. I should have done more boxing too; being nimble on my feet would have been an advantage. It didn’t matter. What would be would be.

Sunday 28 January 2018 – DC Becker

‘That went well,’ I struggle to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. Functioning on barely three hours sleep feels like torture. I should be used to it by now, but it never gets any easier.