Her head was thumping, her legs wobbly. She filled a glass with water and stumbled over to the sofa. A chill ran through her as she lay down, tired and worn out. She reached for a blanket that lay folded across the arm of the sofa, pulled it across and wrapped it around herself. Then, with a grunt of despair, she rested her head back and shut her eyes.

Exhaustion won over pain, and within a few minutes she’d drifted into a restless sleep.

When she finally woke, the room was in darkness. She reached for her phone, surprised to see it was almost seven. Jack was unusually late.

Especially since he wasn’t working.

She checked for messages, but there were none. Pressing the speed dial button for him, she listened to his voice asking her to leave a message. Instead of hanging up, as she usually did, she said, ‘Jack, it’s Molly. Where are you? Ring me, please.’ Her forehead creased in worry as her fingers flew across the keypad to send a message saying the same thing.

By eight o’clock, she was frantic, her mind working overtime. What if he’d had an accident? Horror coursed through her. Maybe whoever had tried to kill her had decided to go after him? There was no logic in it, but then there had been no logical reason for someone trying to kill her.

She looked at the speed dial number for DI Fanshawe and was about to press it when her phone rang. Startled, she yelped and dropped it to the floor, bending with difficulty and groaning as she scrabbled for it, finally picking it up and answering. ‘Hello, hello?’

‘Molly, it’s me.’

A sob escaped before she could stop it. ‘Jack! Where the hell are you? I’ve been going crazy worrying.’ He didn’t reply for a moment. In the background she could hear voices, noises. Wherever he was, it was busy.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, his voice almost lost in the noise. ‘I’m in the Hyde Hotel. Can you come here?’

‘What? Jack, what on earth’s going on? I can’t go haring off to a hotel. I’ve been injured, remember; I ache all over. Why on earth can’t you come home?’ There was more commotion on the line. Pressing the phone as closely as she could to her ear, she was still unable to make out what was happening.

‘Please come here, Molly, ask for me at reception. I’ll explain everything.’

The line went dead. Staring at it, she pressed redial. It went straight to answerphone. This was crazy. She had no intention of going. Where on earth was the Hyde Hotel anyway? She did an internet search, finding it within seconds. Not simply the Hyde Hotel.

He’d left out the Casino bit. The Hyde Hotel and Casino.

Gambling. It appeared Stuart was right.

28