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Chapters (70)
  1. Title Page
  2. Contents
  3. Copyright
  4. Praise for Caroline Mitchell
  5. Also by Caroline Mitchell
  6. Dedication
  7. Epigraph
  8. Prologue
  9. 1
  10. 2
  11. 3
  12. 4
  13. 5
  14. 6
  15. 7
  16. 8
  17. 9
  18. 10
  19. 11
  20. 12
  21. 13
  22. 14
  23. 15
  24. 16
  25. 17
  26. 18
  27. 19
  28. 20
  29. 21
  30. 22
  31. 23
  32. 24
  33. 25
  34. 26
  35. 27
  36. 28
  37. 29
  38. 30
  39. 31
  40. 32
  41. 33
  42. 34
  43. 35
  44. 36
  45. 37
  46. 38
  47. 39
  48. 40
  49. 41
  50. 42
  51. 43
  52. 44
  53. 45
  54. 46
  55. 47
  56. 48
  57. 49
  58. 50
  59. 51
  60. 52
  61. 53
  62. 54
  63. 55
  64. 56
  65. 57
  66. 58
  67. Epilogue
  68. Acknowledgements
  69. About Caroline Mitchell
  70. About Embla Books

Thanks for the update, see you early doors.

Tomorrow the onus would be on finding Jahmelia’s whereabouts. Police weren’t allowed to keep repeating the same questions in further interviews and there were only so many ways you could rephrase them. Elliott had seemed so sure when he said tomorrow was too late. She looked at her watch, a feeling of helplessness washing over her. It was late and she had explored every avenue. She didn’t have long left. Should she go to Blackhall? She shrivelled at the thought.

She bent to pick up the junk mail from a pile on the floor, stopping when she came to a small black envelope. It felt tainted in her hands. That hadn’t been there before. She knew it was an invitation before she opened it.

‘Bring it on,’ Sarah said, but her words were hollow as she read. Tonight. Blackhall Manor. Midnight. She turned the card.

If you tell, you’ll go to hell.

The flow of adrenalin started as a tremble in her legs, increasing her heart rate and redistributing her blood.

‘Tell me what to do,’ she spoke aloud, but no response came. ‘Oh you desert me now, you bastard. All this time you’ve been hanging around and the one time I need you …’ A sob caught in her throat. Her husband was long gone. But an imaginary voice had been better than nothing at all. She had to find Jahmelia, but that meant returning to Blackhall Manor. This man was no serial killer. All this had been for her. He could have murdered Libby and Jahmelia’s brothers, who were both wearing headphones when he entered their homes. Instead, he’d barricaded them in their rooms with a chair. As for Sarah … she lived alone. He had been here more than once. He could have finished her off when she was asleep. There was something much bigger to all of this. A sense of returning to past wrongs. Only by killing her, could the Midnight Man complete the game. Maybe he knew she was nearly ready to flatten the Manor. And she would. By God, she would. But first she had to get Jahmelia back. The rules of the Midnight Game played in her mind as she prepared to leave.

Rule one: Stain some paper with a drop of your blood next to your name.

Rule two: Turn off the lights at midnight, leave the paper at the front door and knock twenty-two times. Open the door. You have invited the Midnight Man in.

Rule three: Relight your candle. You must avoid the Midnight Man until 3.33 a.m. If your candle extinguishes, it means the Midnight Man is near. If he finds you, you will die.