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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

They hurried to the twin room Hessa had booked just a few minutes earlier. The carpet was worn, the twin beds half-covered in red nylon throws. The matching cushions were rubbed shiny, and plastic curtains dangled tiredly. The TV was slightly skewed on the wall.

‘I’ll go and talk to them,’ said Casey.

‘On your own?’

They like me, Casey didn’t say. You threatened them.

‘It means you can call the cavalry if something happens,’ she said firmly.

They walked past the room once though, the briefest of recces. Room 209 was at the end of a corridor in the newbuild section, separated from the main stairs by a fire door, wire in the glass.

‘I don’t like it,’ said Miranda. But the corridor was silent, still.

‘We don’t have time to wait,’ said Casey. ‘I have to speak to them now.’

70

70

Casey knocked quietly on the door. The door banged open, and Emily stood there, shivering with nerves. She took in Casey with a glance, and her panic boiled over.

‘Where is she?’ It was almost a scream. ‘Where the hell is Poppy? What’s happened to her?’

‘I left her in London.’ Casey tried to peer around the room.

‘Why?’ For a second, Casey thought Emily might attack her. ‘Why would you do that?’

‘I didn’t know what was going on,’ Casey said gently. ‘I was concerned, Emily.’

The room looked empty. There was a leather holdall thrown on the bed, and a thin plywood wardrobe, with its doors slightly ajar. A cheap mirror was fixed to the wall, and the door to the bathroom was half open. No one else there, and Casey felt the adrenalin tick down.

Emily made a despairing gesture. Moving calmly, Casey closed the room door. Emily was glued to the floor, her arms falling to her sides.

‘Where is Dominic?’ Casey asked.

‘He had to drive back to Tilney Cottage’ – the words rattled out of Emily. ‘We’d forgotten Poppy’s cot, and we needed it . . .’ She sank onto the bed, tears bursting to the surface. ‘And now you haven’t even brought her.’

‘I didn’t know what was happening.’ Casey made her voice soothing. ‘We came to Tilney Cottage and we saw . . .’

She stood awkwardly next to the bed, waiting for Emily to stop crying.

Emily looked up sharply.

‘This is all your fault.’ Rage burned from Emily’s delicate features. ‘All of it. You took our passports, you blackmailed us. You told us we would never see our baby.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Casey. ‘I really am. It was never meant to be . . .’

‘You blackmailed us,’ Emily shouted again. ‘Dominic warned me, and I didn’t listen. It was blackmail.’

‘I know,’ said Casey. ‘But we can fix this.’

‘You bloody journalists think you can do whatever you want. You just walk into people’s lives and ruin them. How can you live with yourself? How can you do this?’

‘It’s not . . .’