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About the Author

Heidi Perks worked as a marketing director before leaving to become a full-time mother and writer. Her first novel, Now You See Her, was a Sunday Times bestseller and a Richard and Judy Book Club pick. Heidi is a voracious reader of crime fiction and thrillers and endlessly interested in what makes people tick. She lives in Bournemouth with her family, where she is writing her next thriller.

Also by Heidi Perks

Also available by Heidi Perks

Now You See Her

Come Back For Me

Dedication

For my mum, for being such a great one.

The Night of the Fire

Monday 13 May

It had taken seven minutes for the first of the fire engines to screech to a halt outside the offices of Morris & Wood, but even by then anyone could have seen it was too late. The fire had coursed through the building at an alarming rate. Red and orange flames were already obscured by a billowing cloud of dark-grey smoke. The sound of breaking glass shattered the air.

She was on the quay across the river from the office, with a perfect view that she no longer wanted, yet couldn’t bring herself to turn away from.

To her right a few people had spilled out of The Star pub and the couple of restaurants nearby. It was a warm evening in mid-May, warm enough to be out enjoying the longer evening even though it was a Monday night.

Most of the onlookers had probably protested against the development of the Morris & Wood offices when plans for the building were first proposed to the council. The development had caused outrage five years ago. Ad hoc meetings set up in cafés and school halls had been attended by angry residents from Lymington and beyond, who refused to allow such an eyesore to be built.

No one, they had said, wants to look across the Lymington River from the beautiful quay and see a monstrosity of a glass office staring back at them. Bloody Londoners, they had murmured among themselves. They are the problem, coming to the south coast from the city, taking over our town.

Only a few months later Harry Wood had had them all eating out of his palm. Well, maybe not all of them, but the ones who counted.

And so the plans had been approved, the building work started. Anyone who knew the first thing about architecture should have been able to see the offices would be a thing of beauty – too much so for an advertising agency perhaps?

By then the same residents had begun to forgive Harry Wood for anything. He had recruited locally, was supporting charities close to their hearts. The Lymington Care Home had never had so many minibuses and outings to the New Forest.