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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

Casey held Clio’s gun as the Porsche engine roared, sending the crows shrieking into the air again. And then Casey and Miranda watched together as the car stormed off up the drive, turning onto the road with a furious jerk.

‘Thank you.’ Miranda turned to Casey with a twisted smile. ‘Thank you very much indeed.’

79

79

By the time Casey had limped to the house, Miranda was unlocking a door in the kitchen.

‘Where is she?’ Dominic exploded out of the cellar. ‘I heard a gun. Where is Emily? Where is Poppy?’

‘We’ll take you to them,’ said Miranda. ‘Both of them.’

‘But where the hell are they?’

‘Poppy is in London,’ said Casey. ‘Emily’s on her way up there now. We’ll drive you up straight away.’

She fought away the memory of Dominic speaking to the camera, his arm around Emily’s shoulder. The end justifies the means . . .

‘Are they all right?’ Dominic’s voice was hoarse. ‘Has anything happened to them? Who is looking after Poppy?’

‘We hired a nanny.’ Casey tried to sound soothing. ‘The best. Poppy is being very well cared for, Dominic.’

‘I didn’t know what was happening. I’ve got to . . . I’ve got to . . . Oh God.’ He put his hands to his face.

He’d been beaten badly, Casey could see. One eye swollen closed, blood in his hairline. Not friends, no.

‘You could have got us killed,’ he spat at Casey, as he looked at her. ‘You stupid, unthinking . . .’

‘I am sorry,’ Casey said, knowing it could never be enough, knowing he would have let her die. ‘We came here as fast as we could.’

‘We were trapped in that fucking cellar,’ he shouted at her. ‘For days. My wife . . . We thought we were going to die.’

‘I know. And I am very sorry . . .’

Dominic slumped into a kitchen chair. He looked grey under the bruising.

‘We’re just fucking collateral damage, aren’t we? Emily and I. For your stupid fucking story . . . We couldn’t get out. I thought he was going to kill us both . . .’

‘It’s a bit’ – Miranda’s words sliced across the room – ‘like Zohra, out in Bangladesh. The woman who gave birth to your baby. Except she was held for months and months, before dying in agony.’

‘Is this what this was to you?’ Dominic was on his feet again. ‘Some sort of revenge?’

‘No.’ Casey stepped between them. ‘Of course not. We came as soon as we could, Dominic. And we are very sorry about what has happened to you and Emily. It must have been terrible. But it’s over now. And Poppy is safe. You’re all safe.’

They stood there, in the cosy kitchen, stunned to silence.

They’re very nice, the current tenants.

‘What’s been going on?’ Dominic asked tiredly. ‘While we were in the cellar. Have they been caught? What happened to your face?’