BooksBarbecue
Back The Favor
Chapters (78)
  1. Title Page
  2. Dedication
  3. Prologue
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Twelve
  16. Thirteen
  17. Fourteen
  18. Fifteen
  19. Sixteen
  20. Seventeen
  21. Eighteen
  22. Nineteen
  23. Twenty
  24. Twenty-One
  25. Twenty-Two
  26. Twenty-Three
  27. Twenty-Four
  28. Twenty-Five
  29. Twenty-Six
  30. Twenty-Seven
  31. Twenty-Eight
  32. Twenty-Nine
  33. Thirty
  34. Thirty-One
  35. Thirty-Two
  36. Thirty-Three
  37. Thirty-Four
  38. Thirty-Five
  39. Thirty-Six
  40. Thirty-Seven
  41. Thirty-Eight
  42. Thirty-Nine
  43. Forty
  44. Forty-One
  45. Forty-Two
  46. Forty-Three
  47. Forty-Four
  48. Forty-Five
  49. Forty-Six
  50. Forty-Seven
  51. Forty-Eight
  52. Forty-Nine
  53. Fifty
  54. Fifty-One
  55. Fifty-Two
  56. Fifty-Three
  57. Fifty-Four
  58. Fifty-Five
  59. Fifty-Six
  60. Fifty-Seven
  61. Fifty-Eight
  62. Fifty-Nine
  63. Sixty
  64. Sixty-One
  65. Sixty-Two
  66. Sixty-Three
  67. Sixty-Four
  68. Sixty-Five
  69. Sixty-Six
  70. Sixty-Seven
  71. Sixty-Eight
  72. Sixty-Nine
  73. Seventy
  74. Acknowledgments
  75. About the Author
  76. Remarkable Praise for Nicci French
  77. Also by Nicci French
  78. About the Publisher

“Of course! The sooner the better. I’ve invited a few of the gang for supper, is that okay?”

“Great,” said Jude wanly.

“I thought I could make a giant pie. And we could make some kind of lethal cocktail. We can play board games and get drunk. I’m in the shops now, but I’ll be back at mine in less than half an hour.”

“Thank you, Dee. I should warn you, though . . .”

But Dee had gone.

Sixty-Four

There were two police cars parked outside the flat. Inside, everything was clean and tidy after her clear-up, except for water all over the floor, several smashed cups, and an upturned chair. Her bike had been leaned back against the wall and Jude saw that its front wheel was buckled.

Leila went back to the station, while the young officer accompanied Jude inside and waited in the kitchen while she hastily showered and pulled on her warmest clothes.

She fed the cat for the last time and tried to scratch it under the chin, but it stared at her in outrage. Then the officer picked up her bags and they left.

In the car to Dee’s flat, Jude sat back in her seat and half-closed her eyes. She was on her way back to her old life, but she was suddenly and overwhelmingly exhausted. Everything that had happened felt distant and unreal. Images spooled through her mind; faces and scenes that became tangled, the Liam Birch she knew at eighteen sliding into the man who had stood in the hospital foyer that day, waiting to turn her life upside down, his face morphing into the face of his younger brother, his killer.

It was like peering into a sunless rock pool—drifting fronds, things that crawled and jelly-like creatures with mouths that opened and closed; all in constant motion but going nowhere. The cottage in the wilds of Norfolk where the sea rolled across mud and shingle, the muddy site where Liam’s body had been found, the line of figures walking across the marshes on their way to his interment, hand in hand. The baroque house where Danny sat on the wicker chair as if she was some ancient queen, the tattooed tears on her pale cheek. The funeral. The wake. People drinking, dancing, laughing. Jude remembered Dermot standing by the toppled table, mess everywhere and a look of strange triumph on his face.

Something snagged. A fleeting memory tugged. What?