‘Get dressed before you freeze to death,’ she shouted back. ‘There’s hot coffee in my rucksack.’

‘Julie, I’m not kidding. There’s something over there in the fucking bank.’

Due to the long dry spring weather, the water level in the loch was the lowest she’d ever encountered, leaving the raised peat bank on the far shore exposed.

Although still suspicious, Julie turned and made for the spot where Dougal continued to point.

At first glance, the bank looked normal, although some of it had crumbled away, exposing the twisted form of heather roots.

‘There!’ Dougal shouted, panic still in his voice. ‘There’s something there.’

Julie got closer, treading water, and reached up for the odd bulge made by the knotted roots. Her touch sent more dry peat to detach and plop into the water alongside her.

The tingling cold surged into her own upper body, making her gasp. Yet it wasn’t the length of time she’d been in the water that caused her sudden drop in temperature, but horror at what she now saw.

Free of earth, the leathery finger poked through the tangle of roots to beckon her, as though in desperation.

4

Rhona exited the main door of her flat into bright spring sunshine. She stood for a moment, letting the sun warm her face, before she set off down the steps that led into Kelvingrove Park. Six months ago she had believed herself incapable of either being back living here or walking through the park to Glasgow University and her lab of a morning.

Yet here she was.

Her sojourn on Skye after the sin-eater case had set her on the road to recovery, but it had been her time at Castlebrae, the police treatment centre, that had taught her to properly deal with her PTSD.

As a result of the care she’d received there, the nightmares had eased and the claustrophobic flashbacks diminished in power. Plus she’d heard stories from her fellow inmates which had helped put her own experience into perspective.

The past is always with us, but it need not define us, had become her mantra. Or as Chrissy McInsh, her forensic assistant, was wont to say, Shit happens, but so does fun.

Rhona smiled at the memory of Chrissy’s face when she’d turned up for her first day back at work. Standing outside the door of the lab, Rhona had been besieged by doubts about her ability to do her job again, despite what they’d said at Castlebrae.

Then she’d heard Chrissy inside and smelled the usual pot of morning coffee and, without a doubt, the scent of filled rolls, Glasgow-style, which Chrissy always brought in with her.

Square sausage, tattie scone, black pudding and an egg.

Maybe Chrissy had heard her outside, or maybe it was just that second sense Chrissy often exhibited, but the door had been flung open and the joy on Chrissy’s face had propelled Rhona inside. That and Chrissy’s firm grip on her arm.

‘Perfect timing. I got you the full works this morning,’ Chrissy had informed her. ‘Plus I’ve purchased a few more condiments to complement your breakfast roll.’