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Back The Lucky Eight
Chapters (64)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Prologue
  4. Five Years Later
  5. One
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Eight
  13. Nine
  14. Ten
  15. Eleven
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-one
  26. Twenty-two
  27. Twenty-three
  28. Twenty-four
  29. Twenty-five
  30. Twenty-six
  31. Twenty-seven
  32. Twenty-eight
  33. Twenty-nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-one
  36. Thirty-two
  37. Thirty-three
  38. Thirty-four
  39. Thirty-five
  40. Thirty-six
  41. Thirty-seven
  42. Thirty-eight
  43. Thirty-nine
  44. Forty
  45. Forty-one
  46. Forty-two
  47. Forty-three
  48. Forty-four
  49. Forty-five
  50. Forty-six
  51. Forty-seven
  52. Forty-eight
  53. Forty-nine
  54. Fifty
  55. Fifty-one
  56. Fifty-two
  57. Fifty-three
  58. Fifty-four
  59. Fifty-five
  60. Epilogue
  61. Acknowledgements
  62. Canelo Crime
  63. About the Author
  64. Also by Sheila Bugler

She’d gone to Crete with Vivienne. The holiday had been Vivienne’s idea, part of her ongoing attempts to make up for marrying Adam. She’d booked and paid for everything, insisting this holiday was her treat. Seven nights in an adult-only, all-inclusive resort in Analipsi, a quiet village on the north-east of the island. It should have been the perfect break. Except it wasn’t. By the end of the week, Clodagh was desperate to get back home.

In the weeks following the crash, Clodagh had barely any memories of that last week with Vivienne. Gradually, however, the memories started coming back. Slowly, at first, then a sudden rush of them all together. Until today, she’d believed the only memories still missing were those from the hours preceding the crash. Suddenly, she wasn’t so sure. She replayed Bella’s words in her mind – something must have happened during that week in Crete to make him do what he did.

What if Bella was right and something had happened – something so bad that Clodagh’s damaged mind had chosen to forget because remembering it would be too painful?

Eleven

Day Two

Tara Coleman lived in a modern, glass-fronted building overlooking the river Thames in London’s South Bank area. Rachel and Ade navigated their way through the throngs of people enjoying the city in the shimmering heat of summer, eventually reaching the apartment block precisely two and a half hours since they’d got the news that Nick Gilbert’s death wasn’t accidental. Someone had killed him. Blunt force trauma to the head was the official cause of death. The back of his head had been hit, repeatedly, with something round and hard. After he was dead, the killer had rolled him onto his back in what looked like a cack-handed attempt to make his injuries look accidental.

Rachel’s boss, Detective Superintendent Sharon Spalding, had arranged for two officers to go to Nick’s parents to break the news that their son’s death was now being treated as a murder investigation. While they were doing that, Rachel and Ade had driven to London to ask Tara some more questions. As his girlfriend, she was top of their list of potential murder suspects.

‘Fancy pad,’ Ade said, looking up at the tall building.

‘I don’t like it myself.’ Rachel pointed at the way the building curved out in the middle. ‘Reminds me of my dad’s beer belly.’

She scanned the list of names on the intercom entry system, found Tara’s name and pressed the buzzer for her apartment.

‘Let’s hope she’s in,’ she said.

They hadn’t called ahead, wanting the element of surprise when they spoke to her. A good strategy when it worked, but it meant if Tara wasn’t at home, Ade and Rachel might have to hang around outside the apartment building until she finally showed up.