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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

Not only had she not wanted, or asked for, a party full of people she barely knew – but now this party was turning out to be a nightmare, one that clearly wasn’t going to go away any time soon. Not if Oliver suspected something at her party had caused Melissa’s disappearance. Not knowing how to respond, Louisa instead told Oliver to let her know if there were any developments and, breaking the strange bond that had held her in his gaze, she turned away from him and opened the car door.

Blood.

Blonde hair matted with blood.

A woman.

Louisa gasped and sat bolt upright, pulling the duvet off Brian. Despite this, he slept on, oblivious to her rapid breathing and distress. Sweat trickled down her back. She didn’t know why she was seeing these images, but she was convinced that the woman in her dream was Melissa. In reality she’d never seen Melissa’s face, but in her dream she felt it was Melissa; knew it was her. But now, just moments later, she could no longer recollect the woman’s face. Scrunching her eyes tightly, she did manage to retrieve a vague memory, but only of the woman’s body – her below-the-knee black dress, slim, tanned calves and her feet: pretty gold-painted toenails.

So, she did remember something about her.

Cold grass. Tickling her feet.

She didn’t know where her shoes were.

She wanted a cigarette.

A voice behind her.

Louisa clutched her abdomen as a wave of nausea rippled through her as quickly as the memory had.

Something bad happened on Friday night. She could feel it.

It was a feeling she’d known before.

15

THE CHAT

Tuesday – Day 4 post-party

‘Hey, Tiff. Are you free for a coffee this afternoon?’ Louisa fiddled with her dressing gown cord, twiddling it in one hand as she held her mobile to her ear.

‘Um … I’ve got a meeting at school at lunchtime, so would be towards two-ish, will that do you?’

‘I’m not going anywhere.’ Louisa gave a dejected laugh. ‘Pop around when you finish.’

‘Is everything okay? You sound a bit down.’ Louisa could sense Tiff’s concerned frown.

‘I could do with a chat, that’s all.’

‘Sure thing. I’ll drop into the shop on my way, get some yummy pastries!’

‘You know the way to my heart, Tiff.’

‘Of course, darling. Right, must run. See you soon.’ And the line went dead.