Willow made her way down to the beach and felt a sudden spurt of anger. What the shit am I doing here? I’m the senior investigating officer in this case, not a rookie plod to be ordered around by the great Jimmy Perez. He wouldn’t have spoken to a male superior officer like that!

The anger was directed first at herself, because she hadn’t taken charge of the search when she’d had the chance. Because she’d allowed the man to walk all over her. Then it was turned towards Perez, who’d been cold and uncommunicative since they’d left Springfield House. What was it about the man that turned her into a pathetic girl, unable to assert her authority for a moment?

The tide was out and she walked on the damp sand, which was ridged, hard under her feet. Here the fog was patchy; sometimes it was so dense that she lost all sense of direction and wandered towards the water, and occasionally it lifted so that she could make out the lights in Sletts. She was shouting Polly’s name and swinging her torch in an arc so that it would be seen from all directions, but she felt this was pointless. Why would Polly be on the beach, when the holiday house and safety were close by? Surely there would be nothing in Sletts to scare her. No, Jimmy Perez was going it alone again, playing the hero. This was more about his ego, and proving to himself and to the world that he was back at the top of his game, than saving a young woman’s life.

There was a sudden breeze from the sea, which swirled the mist in strange patterns and she thought she saw a figure standing near the water. She told herself that she was dreaming or the faint light on the horizon was playing tricks with her imagination, but all the same she felt chilled, suddenly scared. As she got closer to the tideline she saw that it was no Peerie Lizzie, no young girl dressed in white. This was an adult clothed in a waterproof jacket and a hood. The fog thickened again and the figure disappeared. Willow screamed Polly’s name and ran towards the shadow, but on the flat sand directions were deceptive and she thought she could be running in completely the opposite direction. She stood still and listened. The tide must be turning now. She heard soft waves breaking. On a morning like this Elizabeth Geldard had slipped away from her adoptive mother, or had been led into danger by her, and been drowned as the water slid down the voe and filled the gullies behind her, cutting off her escape back to the shore. For the first time Willow realized how easily that could have happened.

There was another sound. Human, not supernatural. Choked sobs.