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Back The Family Next Door Save as PDF
Chapters (117)
  1. Also by
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. Epigraph
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
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  116. Teaser chapter
  117. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I knew that Mr. Lovell was making them. But I did not let him know. I did not let anyone know. I allowed him to make them. I allowed him to telephone the house and whisper his threats because I knew he had a secret, too.

And his truth became a telescope turned back onto him.

I knew what he was doing when the sun went down and why he was visiting the garage and where Mrs. Lovell had gone. I saw him. And I knew what he had discovered about me.

It was a risk, of course. To let it lie.

But I knew that Mr. Lovell—a painter of dolls clinging to the body of his dead wife—would become a prime suspect for the murders bringing this town to its knees.

And he was.

My plan worked perfectly. Until Olivia Lockwood ruined everything.

66

66

Tuesday 31st July 2018; 2:32 P.M.

The Avenue

Detective Sergeant Wildeve Stanton ran into the street at exactly the same moment a police car sped down The Avenue and braked sharply outside Trefor Lovell’s address.

She started toward the house, but two officers she didn’t recognize jumped out and sprinted up the path, and an ambulance, sirens blaring, pulled in behind them.

Guilt needled her, pricking at her conscience. French’s instincts had been spot-on and she had ignored them. A knot of self-doubt wound itself more tightly. She shouldn’t be here.

An unmarked car roared past her and down the street, blue lights flashing, and she turned away, spotting DCI Roger Sampson in the passenger seat. Officers of such senior rank rarely turned up for an interview, so she guessed it must be serious.

Shit.

She lingered by the Lockwood house, uncertain what to do next. It was clear that things had moved on since that morning. French had been right. Leaving Lovell until this afternoon had been a serious error of judgment.

Trust your instincts, Wild.

Adam’s voice, so familiar and gentle. But this time, it did not have its usual calming effect. Instead, she longed to scream out her frustration at the sky, to demand of him answers to the questions that were haunting her.

Cooper Clifton had said that Adam was going to visit Lovell. Was it possible that he was the last person to see her husband alive? She had to speak to him. But it looked as if her colleagues would be arresting him, and then it would be too late.

The afternoon air shimmered with heat. A skin-sticking sort of a day. Another car drove slowly down the road and pulled in next to her. Mac. His T-shirt and shorts had been replaced with his customary uniform of a shirt and trousers, and he was sucking an aniseed ball. It comforted her. In a world where everything else had gone wrong, this was the correct order of things.

“Sorry, I got stuck in hellish traffic. What have I missed?”