BooksBarbecue
Back Stalker
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

My heart pounded so fast, it sounded like one continuous hum. I could feel my muscles pinging; my body entering fight or flight mode. I grabbed my phone ready to dial 999 and pressed the screen accidentally. The home screen flashed up, the light so bright it stung my eyes. I smothered the phone. Shit, would he have seen it? Did he know I was home? It must be him. Who else could it be? Ben would always use the front door. No one ever came around the back of these flats unless they were delivering groceries to the store or collecting rubbish.

I heard a shuffling sound as I stood, my bones cracking, and tiptoed across the hallway, pausing to look at the front door. Should I just run? Escape while I still could? I’d had enough of being afraid. Plus, it couldn’t really be him, could it? I crept into the kitchen, easing open the cutlery drawer and grabbing the first knife I came across. I couldn’t make anything out through the glass, not even a shape. If I turned the light on it would only make myself easier to see, not anything outside.

I crept towards the back door, ignoring the moan from my bladder. Gripping the handle, I violently shook the door, yanking the lever up and down. The door wouldn’t open as it was locked, but I hoped it would scare the intruder away. I heard a crash and a squeal which didn’t sound human. My heart stopped. Turning the key and opening the door, a rush of crisp air surged in, propelling me back. Outside, bright amber eyes glared at me, teeth bared, ready to pounce. I let out a scream, and the fox scurried away down the stairs. It had been going through the rubbish which was strewn all over the balcony. The darkness seemed threatening, so I didn’t linger, instead curling up into my cold bed to hide under the covers until dawn came.

24

SUNDAY 28 JANUARY 2018

‘On Friday the twelfth of January at approximately twenty-two thirty hours you left Mangos Bar, but there were no available taxis. Ian offered for you to wait for one at his apartment. Is that correct?’ Detective Hicks looks back over the notes from our last interview.

‘Yes, that’s correct. It was cold.’

‘Tell us what happened when you got back to his place.’

‘We walked for about ten minutes to get there. It was nice, modern, he told me he’d bought it when the development was built. Quite posh. We had a coffee and he rang for a taxi.’

‘What time did the taxi arrive?’ Becker asks.

‘Around quarter past eleven. Something like that. I remember being home by half past.’ My stomach turns as I try to behave normally. Thinking about it makes me shudder.