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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

The taxi double-parked outside Allison’s house. With help from Jo, she struggled from the car, pain in every step as she tottered weakly to her front door. She stood with a hand on the railing dividing her small front garden from the neighbour’s as Jo slipped her key into the lock, opened the door and hurried through to switch off the alarm and turn on a hallway light.

Allison didn’t think she’d seen a more beautiful sight, relief helping her move more easily. ‘I’m going to have a shower, then I’ll be back down. We can talk.’

‘Okay. I’ll find us something to eat.’

‘Good.’ Allison didn’t think she’d ever want to eat again. She swayed, grabbing hold of the newel post.

‘You sure you’ll manage?’

She looked up the stairway. Had it always been so high, so steep? She was sure it hadn’t always moved, like a bloody roller coaster. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

Jo slipped a hand around her waist. ‘Come on, let me help you.’

Allison wanted to push her away but the pressure of the hand on her back increased, pushing her forward. One step after the other. For the moment, she needed the help. But even though Jo had saved her, Allison wasn’t going to forget she was a liar, a blackmailer, a scam artist. There were also too many unanswered questions. She’d never discovered how Jo had found out her address. Now there was an added mystery – how had she found out where she was being kept prisoner? In the en suite, she co-operated as Jo helped her out of the borrowed clothes and urged her into the shower cubicle. She stood unmoving as the water was turned on, and took the opened bottle of shower gel that was handed to her.

‘Stay as long as you want,’ Jo said, shaking water from her hand. ‘I’ll find something easy for you to put on when you’re finished and leave it on the bed. If you need me, shout, but I’ll pop back in a while anyway to make sure you’re okay.’

Allison gripped the bottle too hard, gel shooting out of the top. It was empty before she was finished, foam filling the base of the cubicle, her skin red from the loofah she used to scrub away the sensation of Stuart’s fingers running over her skin. That she couldn’t remember him touching her bizarrely made it worse.