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Back The Lucky Eight Save as PDF
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

After the detectives left on Monday, she’d fallen apart. When the police liaison officer had turned up later that afternoon, Tara had been relieved to see her. But the next day, she couldn’t stand having her in the apartment and she’d sent her away. The last thing she’d needed was some nosy police officer watching her while she sobbed and ranted.

The trauma never left her. The fear and anxiety and suffocating guilt was always there, lying beneath the surface, waiting. As soon as she let her guard down and started to believe she could move forward with her life, it resurfaced. Instinctively, her fingers trailed the scar that ran from her knee to midway up her thigh. A legacy of the crash that had also left her with a slight limp. The only outward sign of what had happened.

There’d been no warning, no sign at all that the plane was about to crash. As they were coming in to land, there was the normal announcement from the cockpit: ‘cabin crew prepare to land.’ The seatbelt lights came on and the plane started its descent. The first moment of uncertainty came when it rose abruptly, instead of landing. Tara remembered looking at the other passengers, wondering if any of them had noticed something was wrong. But none of them seemed too bothered. Then the plane circled and came back into land a second time. And the screaming began.

Tara had been on holiday with her two best friends, Monica and Jessie. Three privileged girls from wealthy families with good genes and wealth and a lifetime of privilege to look forward to. Then, suddenly, all of it was gone in the blink of an eye.

She lifted her glass, the wine golden and green in the afternoon sunshine. She’d been drinking solidly for the last hour. So far, the alcohol had done nothing to take away the emptiness of her grief or the burning heat of her anger. All of it underpinned with fear. She’d got used to having someone in her life to take care of her. With Nick gone, she was alone again and the idea terrified her. She didn’t have a job, and the little bit of money she had saved up wouldn’t last more than a few months. Her parents had made it clear that she couldn’t live off them forever. It wasn’t fair. All this unnecessary anxiety because someone had killed the one person who really loved her and wanted to look after her.