BooksBarbecue
Back The Woman in the Wood Save as PDF
Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. Also by M.K. Hill
  3. THE WOMAN IN THE WOOD
  4. Copyright
  5. Dedication
  6. Contents
  7. Epigraph
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. 47
  55. 48
  56. 49
  57. 50
  58. 51
  59. 52
  60. Acknowledgements
  61. About the Author
  62. An Invitation from the Publisher

He raced towards Craig, twisting away from him at the last moment and shoving him hard into the machine, making him lose his footing. Jenkins rushed out of the door, but Craig was on his feet in a heartbeat and chased after him. Sasha took a moment to finish handcuffing Gosling to a bracket on the wall, then flew to the door. Jenkins was running around the edge of the swimming pool, leaping over the people sprawled out on the concrete, with Craig in hot pursuit.

Sasha was about to shout to Craig to stop. The last thing she needed was for him to throw himself onto Jenkins and for the both of them to fall into the pool, which was teeming with kids. Then Craig slipped on the wet surface, both his feet left the ground and for one terrible moment she thought he was going to tumble, but he managed to keep going, disappearing out of the gate, following Jenkins across the grass towards the caravans.

Sasha raced through the crowd as best she could, weaving in and out of all the half-naked men and women wandering about – ‘Excuse me, excuse me, coming through!’ – and out of the gate. Up ahead, Craig was moving like a steam train towards the older man. Jenkins headed deeper into the park, hoping perhaps to lose his pursuers in the numerous grass alleys between the caravans, and then disappeared behind one of the units, followed by Craig.

Once upon a time, before her kids were born, Sasha had been fit and sporty. She ran long distances, swam regularly at a local pool and played badminton, but she felt out of shape now. Sweat poured down her forehead and neck. It occurred to her that she was wearing a jacket during the hottest part of the day and tried to shrug it off as she ran, but the damp lining turned inside out and the jacket clung stubbornly to one arm. She yanked it off and let it fall to the ground.

And then ahead of her, Craig came back into view, circling one particular caravan, cupping his eyes against the windows, which were covered with thick net curtains. A car, a Nissan, was parked on the grass between the caravan and its neighbour on the far side.

‘He’s inside.’ Craig was panting as she came trotting towards him, bracing her hands on her hips to try to get her breath back, her sopping shirt clinging to the small of her back.

‘Are you sure?’

‘He went in there and slammed the door shut,’ he told her, triumphantly banging his hand against the metal shell of the caravan. ‘We’ve got him, trapped like a rat in a can.’

18