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Back The Widow Save as PDF
Chapters (92)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. PART I
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. PART II
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. 66
  71. 67
  72. 68
  73. 69
  74. 70
  75. 71
  76. 72
  77. 73
  78. 74
  79. 75
  80. 76
  81. 77
  82. 78
  83. 79
  84. 80
  85. 81
  86. 82
  87. 83
  88. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  89. MORE FROM VALERIE KEOGH
  90. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  91. The Murder List
  92. About Boldwood Books

Bruises and broken bones wouldn’t make her panic… being locked in a room would. Being naked made her vulnerable. Not knowing what the fuck was going on made her very afraid.

She felt weak, but desperately wanted a shower to wash away the feeling of strange hands touching her bare skin. In the shower cubicle, she slid down the tiled wall to the floor and let the warm water cascade around her. There was some tiny consolation that as far as she could determine, she’d not been sexually abused. She ached in a lot of places but not there.

Not yet anyway.

Stuart. That bastard with his over-familiarity, his creepy touchy-feely behaviour. That kiss – it had been his tongue she’d felt, she was sure of it now. And that remark Portia had made about him liking to have seen her naked… why hadn’t she trusted her instincts, the ones that were screaming something wasn’t right? Allison wanted to weep for being such a fool.

But Portia…? Allison had trusted her. She groaned, holding her head up to the water, letting the spray fill her mouth, spitting and choking. What a fool she’d been… what a pathetic, needy, sad fool… there had been no friendship; Portia had targeted her from the beginning. All the sympathetic questions about Allison’s lack of family and friends that she’d seen as friendly curiosity now took on a more sinister cast. Her isolation had made her the perfect victim. No wonder Portia had been taken aback at the sudden appearance of Peter. It must have upset her plans but it didn’t take her long to resume after his death.

It had been Allison’s desperation to get away from Jo that had made her play right into Portia and Stuart’s hands. Struggling to her feet, she switched off the water and used the too-small towel to dry herself, rubbing the damp rag over her hair.

There was nothing to wear in the bedroom. Pulling the top sheet off the bed, she wrapped it around her damp body. Although she knew it was useless, she tried the door handle again, rattling it harder as anger took over from despair. She rested an ear against the door, straining to hear something… anything… hearing nothing but the uncomfortably loud thump of her heart and the pathetic hitch of her breath.

56

Allison assumed someone would eventually come. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been unconscious. A day perhaps, maybe two. When hours after she woke passed without contact, she banged on the door and yelled until she was hoarse. All she achieved was to make herself more scared.

More scared. It was good to acknowledge it.