When he’d gone, Doyle looked at Jodie more kindly. ‘I know it’s difficult but try not to worry. I’d say your friend Flynn was making a point. Hopefully, you’ll never hear from him again.’ He hesitated, then as if deciding to be honest, he added, ‘I wouldn’t be convinced, though, that he was responsible for your problems with your last employer. That seems a bit of a stretch if you don’t mind me saying.’

‘But you will ask him, won’t you?’

‘It will be one of the things we’ll be asking him,’ the officer agreed. ‘If Douglas did leave the packages, it’s possible that he’ll simply be cautioned. Leaving packages on a doorknob, even one with a dead mouse, wouldn’t be viewed as a criminal act. We might be able to charge him with a crime if his impersonation of a sales representative was used for financial gain or if it had any other implications.’

‘I’m hearing a lot of ifs,’ Jodie said with a hint of a smile.

Doyle shrugged. ‘Until we know more, take the usual precautions, Ms Armstrong, keep your eyes and ears open and stay away from isolated places, especially at night.’

A dart of anger shot through Jodie. Yes, of course, she had to be careful because some maniac was sending her dead mice. The anger faded quickly. It was the way life was. ‘Yes, I’ll be careful. I always am.’

The sound of footsteps heralded the return of PC Grant with the mobile fingerprint scanner and within minutes Jodie’s fingerprints had been taken.

‘Okay,’ Doyle said. ‘That’s about it. I’ll contact you later if we’ve managed to get hold of Mr Douglas.’

And there was that if again. ‘Thank you.’

‘We’ll see ourselves out.’

Jodie listened as their heavy footsteps echoed on the wooden floor of the hallway and the rattle as they slammed the front door. Then there was nothing but the loud thoughts that hammered her skull.

A headache started, throbbing behind her eyes. She pushed to her feet, scrabbled in a drawer for the box of paracetamol she knew was somewhere, becoming increasingly frustrated with her inability to find them… with her inability to make any sense of her messed-up life. Finally, she found the box, popped two and swallowed them with a mouthful of water.

Outside, her small back garden was bathed in sunshine. It was tempting to go for a long walk, to let the sea breeze blow away the stress and get her thoughts in order. But she didn’t want to be among people. Despite the realisation that it was Flynn, not Victor who’d been responsible for the packages, she knew she’d be searching every man’s face looking for her childhood lover and seeing threats where surely none existed.