BooksBarbecue
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
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. 57
  63. 58
  64. 59
  65. 60
  66. 61
  67. 62
  68. 63
  69. 64
  70. 65
  71. 66
  72. 67
  73. 68
  74. 69
  75. 70
  76. 71
  77. 72
  78. 73
  79. 74
  80. 75
  81. 76
  82. 77
  83. 78
  84. 79
  85. 80
  86. 81
  87. 82
  88. 83
  89. 84
  90. 85
  91. 86
  92. 87
  93. 88
  94. 89
  95. 90
  96. 91
  97. 92
  98. 93
  99. 94
  100. 95
  101. 96
  102. 97
  103. 98
  104. 99
  105. 100
  106. 101
  107. 102
  108. 103
  109. 104
  110. 105
  111. 106
  112. 107
  113. 108
  114. 109
  115. 110
  116. Teaser chapter
  117. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

And Wildeve and Mac, delighted with that morning’s work, were lulled into a false sense of security by Cooper Clifton’s lack of resistance, his willingness to cooperate. They were not expecting him to run.

But Cooper’s years of gardening had lent him a wiry strength and he had the element of surprise on his side. He shoulder-barged his way past the female officer coming through the door and found himself on the street outside. Empty.

He threw a glance to his right. His left. Straight ahead.

He took off in the direction of the woods, seeking the cover of trees.

Behind him, the shouts of police officers on his tail. He was a fit man, but they would catch him. Wildeve was running, too. She was running as if her life depended on it. Because it did.

As she headed toward the mass of woodland, Wildeve threw a look over her shoulder at the house behind her. 27 The Avenue. Modest. Respectable.

Years later, when she was retiring from the police force, a life spent pressed up against the dark heart of human nature, she would still remember Audrina Clifton sitting in that doorway in her wheelchair, a hunted look on her face.

103

103

Wednesday 1st August 2018, 6:37 A.M.

The Avenue

A cross the street, the postman was pushing an envelope into a letter box when a series of shouts ruptured the stillness of the early morning.

His head jerked upward.

Five minutes earlier, he’d been halfway up the Cliftons’ garden path when the scream of police sirens had forced him into the shadows, but he’d been on high alert, a familiar fizz in the pit of his stomach.

The tall hedge of number thirty obscured the postman from view, but his sharp ears caught the sound of footsteps. He stood up and looked over the hedge.

Cooper Clifton was running across The Avenue, toward the entrance of Blatches Woods. The old man was a hairbreadth away and had no idea the postman was there.

He dropped his mail pouch and took off after him.

His soles stung as they slapped against the pavement, but the postman was alive with the joy of the chase. Cooper swerved into the woodland and the postman followed him, light-footed and sure, way ahead of the police officers who were somewhere behind them. Clouds of aphids filled his mouth. Twigs and bracken and the mulch of the forest floor. The blood sang in his veins. The postman was closing the gap between them, but Cooper had the advantage of local knowledge. He knew the paths of this place like his own hand.

The heat of the day was making the postman sweat. It trickled into his eyes, making them sting and blurring his vision. His mouth tasted of salt. The pump and flow of his blood roared in his ears. He swiped at his face, trying to clear his sight. And he couldn’t see Clifton anymore.