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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

‘You’re a very restful woman to be with.’ Peter glanced her way as his window slid open at the exit. He pushed the parking card into the slot and the barrier rose. Before he drove forward, he took his hand from the steering wheel and rested it briefly on her thigh. ‘Most women fill the silence with chattering about nothing.’

Most women! Allison bridled and would have made a sarcastic comment if the alcohol hadn’t dimmed her ability to formulate a sentence.

Luckily for him, she could no longer fight against the soporific effect of the car’s motion and fell asleep. When she woke, she was outside her apartment block, his hand gently shaking her shoulder. She looked at him, struggling to remember why she felt momentary irritation. Hadn’t he said something to annoy her?

Then he leaned forward and kissed her gently on the lips and she thought she must have imagined it.

‘I’ll walk you to your door,’ he said, reaching to undo her seat belt. He waited till they reached her apartment on the fourth floor, took her keys from her and inserted them into the lock, pushing the door open and handing the keys back. ‘Will you be okay?’

She smiled sleepily… drunkenly. ‘Yes, thank you.’

‘I’d like to see you again.’ He leaned forward and, this time, planted a soft kiss on her cheek. ‘You have my card. Ring me.’

She waited till she saw him vanish into the lift before she shut the door.

Ring me.

There was no doubt of it.

8

The following day, Allison took out Peter’s business card and flicked it against her nail as she wondered whether to ring him or not. He’d seemed the perfect choice, or had she been affected by the glow of alcohol? The crippling hangover she’d woken with eased after a couple of paracetamols and several glasses of water. She was wrapped in a robe, curled up on her living room sofa with a mug of coffee. To ring or not to ring, that was the question.

There were definite pros… he was handsome, entertaining, wealthy. Single – maybe, it was always hard to tell. She did a quick internet search. Armed with his business card, it was easy. He had a plain, no-nonsense website with business information, addressing his qualifications, condensed into a few lines. His speciality was commercial law. Apart from contact details, that was it. No personal details whatsoever. A check on various social media platforms proved to be a waste of time. In his line of work, she wasn’t surprised he favoured privacy, but it was irritating.

Tossing her phone to one side, she cupped her fingers around the almost empty mug. She’d been flattered – what woman wouldn’t be – but wasn’t it a bit stalkerish for him to have followed her upstairs from the pub, gate-crashing the party in order to do so?