Parking her car, she decided to go for a walk rather than back to her room, hoping the fresh air would help her think straight. With no particular destination in mind, Steph took a stroll through the resort. The car incident had certainly shaken her up, more than she had let on to Sonia and certainly more than the impression she had given Dominic. He would probably tell Harry, and Steph wondered if that would spur him into coming to see her. She was finding it hard to keep her burgeoning personal relationship with Harry separate from her undercover investigation into Elizabeth’s death. Her journalistic brain was telling her that statistically Harry would be the one most likely to have harmed Elizabeth, and yet the Harry she knew, the man she had spoken to on the terrace on Friday night, the Harry she’d spent time with on Saturday and the same Harry who had looked after her last night, was not one she could associate with killing anyone, let alone his wife.

There was, of course, the Harry who confused her. The one who blew hot and cold in the time it took to say those words. She wanted to believe it was because he might be feeling guilty that he was betraying his wife’s memory, but there was also the possibility that the Harry she liked was fake and every now and then his mask slipped.

She tried to set the facts out logically in her mind.

He was the one who had found her in her lodge.

He had access to a spare key.

He was a prime candidate for having something to hide.

He had known she was going out for a ride in the car today.

He might be playing her. He might not actually be interested in her at all. She had to admit, this last notion hurt. She didn’t like the idea that he was using her to find out what she knew or whether she had an alternative agenda here. Which, of course, she did, but she didn’t want him to know that. She also acknowledged the double standards here.

She couldn’t make sense of Harry, not yet.

As she walked along the track which led towards the north of the resort she saw a lodge set back into the trees. It looked far grander than the regular lodges in the park. It was much larger and there was a veranda which ran across the front of the property. It reminded Steph of something she’d seen on American TV. She half expected an old-age pensioner to be sitting there on a swing seat, smoking a pipe.

‘Hello, can I help you?’

Steph started at the voice behind her. She turned and saw a woman roughly her own age with a child of about five years and a double buggy with twin toddler boys.