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Back The Dead Line Save as PDF
Chapters (87)
  1. Cover
  2. By the Same Author
  3. Dedication Page
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. Acknowledgements
  86. Also Available by Holly Watt
  87. The Hunt and the Kill

After she hung up, Casey stood, processing her thoughts. Then she hurried through the airport, almost running. She raced through passport control, ignoring the still luggage belts, burst out on to the concourse and raced towards the train station. And almost fell as a hand grabbed hard at her shoulder.

56

56

‘Ed,’ Casey gasped.

‘Be quiet,’ he muttered. He had her firm at the elbow, towing her smoothly across the huge hall.

‘Ed, what are you doing?’

He paused behind one of the big pillars, pushing her close to the concrete. ‘Stay there.’

‘What . . .’

Ed was scanning the concourse, eyes narrowed.

‘There. Grey jacket, blue jeans, white sign with red writing.’

‘Doesn’t,’ Casey was over her shock, grumbling slightly, ‘narrow it down much.’

‘Just look.’

She saw the man almost at once, among the crowd of bored chauffeurs and happy families. Casey Benedict read his sign.

‘Who the hell . . .’

‘I don’t know.’ Ed was searching the rest of the airport now, eyes casual, but focusing in on every person.

‘How did he . . .’

‘I don’t know,’ Ed said again. ‘Miranda texted me to say you were flying in. I thought I would come and meet you. Find out what was happening with the story.’

‘Oh,’ said Casey. ‘That’s . . .’ Then she sharpened her voice. ‘But how did he know? Whoever he is.’

‘I was waiting for you,’ said Ed. ‘Your flight was a few minutes late. I just saw him there, in the corner of my eye. I’ve checked with Miranda. She didn’t send anyone.’

‘Who is he?’ Casey was watching the man.

He was deliberately anonymous. The sort of person who would be near-impossible to describe for a photofit. Medium height, medium brown hair, medium brown eyes. Hard muscles though, and a toughness in his movements. There was a menace about him too, the crowd keeping a step back even in the crush.

‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before,’ said Ed.

‘Me neither,’ said Casey. ‘But surely he wouldn’t expect me to just get into a car with him?’

‘You might.’

Exhausted, in a Heathrow so familiar, where she thought she was safe. Assuming the newsroom had sent out a car for her. A shudder went down her spine. ‘They might think I would,’ she corrected him.

‘Well then.’

They watched the man waiting for her. ‘Are you sure he is working alone?’ asked Casey.

‘No.’

‘We should follow him,’ she murmured. ‘Or maybe . . . Maybe I should just walk up to him, see what happens.’

‘Casey.’ Ed turned to her, the anger flaring. ‘He could be waiting to kill you, for God’s sake. You have no idea. You just don’t know.’

‘Not just like that in an airport. Surely?’

‘You’re not doing it,’ he said. ‘Absolutely not.’

‘Well, what then?’ Casey stared across the airport. ‘We need to find out where he is going. Who he is working for.’