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Back The Missing Wife Save as PDF
Chapters (64)
  1. THE MISSING WIFE
  2. PRAISE FOR SAM CARRINGTON
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. THE EPILOGUE
  58. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  59. Prologue
  60. Chapter One
  61. Chapter Two
  62. About the Author
  63. By the same author
  64. About the Publisher

Once they got back on the path, they took off their mud-caked shoes, placing them in the bin liner, and put on the fresh ones. Tiff’s. A strange sensation passed through her as she walked in her dead friend’s shoes. They left the church via the small, rear, stile-like stone that led to the steps on the other side, rather than pass the illuminated side of the church again. The road was dark, with the moonlight only revealing a small area in front of them. They backed against the high wall as they moved cautiously away from the church.

At the end of the lane, which opened up to the road leading to Tiff’s house, they went in separate directions. Louisa walked towards home. Melissa, carrying everything they’d used, walked back to the top entrance of the church where the car was parked. She was going to drive the car along the back lanes to Torquay to avoid any CCTV cameras. Not that there were many, but it was better safe than sorry. At some point, she was going to set fire to the car, and its contents: the bin liner, the shovel and spade – and that’s as far as Louisa knew about the next step of the plan.

They didn’t speak when they left each other. There were no words that could convey the desperate act they’d both played a part in. Louisa didn’t know what Melissa would do now. Go home to Yorkshire? Stay and make a home here? She wondered how she was going to explain her disappearance. There were so many questions remaining, but Louisa didn’t have the strength to contemplate any of them right now.

Letting herself in the back door, she crept inside and sat at the kitchen table to gather her thoughts before sneaking upstairs. She hoped Noah had stayed asleep, that no one had heard her come home. If they did, she had the excuse of staying out late with one of Tiff’s friends, reminiscing and trying to come to terms with her death.

Not that she could even imagine being able to come to terms with the events of the past month.

Or with what had been in box three, when she’d unlocked that padlock in her mind.

The thunking sound of a head hitting granite.

Blood-covered tiles.