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Chapters (70)
  1. Cover
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  3. Map of Rutland
  4. Map of Oakham
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
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  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. On Borrowed Time
  69. Acknowledgments
  70. Adam Croft

‘I think I’d probably be more hurt if my other half had kept something like that from me.’

‘Yeah, well, everyone’s different. We’ve all got our reasons.’

They sat in silence for a little while longer before Dexter finally sighed, then spoke.

‘He’s not turning up, is he?’

50

Dexter drove Caroline home in almost complete silence. She would’ve preferred to have driven herself, but Mark had taken the car. It was, of course, still absent when she returned home, and she felt strangely sad at seeing the car-less driveway. It was rare she came home to an empty house, and in the light of what had happened it felt even more depressing than usual.

She waved to Dexter and fumbled in her pocket for her house keys. As she did so, she noticed a plant pot had ended up on its side, smashed. The geraniums that’d been on glorious show inside it were scattered on the paving slabs. Must’ve been a fox or some cats fighting, she thought. She sighed and told herself she’d deal with it in the morning. But her relaxed attitude changed the moment she reached her front door.

Something didn’t feel right. She put her key in the lock and turned it, but the door was already unlocked.

She was sure she’d locked it before she left the house. She had, hadn’t she?

A sudden thought crossed her mind that Mark might have come back with the boys and let himself in. His car was nowhere to be seen, so it was unlikely, but it was the option she most hoped would be true.

She pushed the door open and called out their names, but got no reply.

The house felt eerily quiet. Caroline flicked the switch on the wall, flooding the hallway with light. Almost immediately, she noticed the footprints.

They were large — definitely a man’s — and muddy, too. The length of the stride, leading to the living room and back to the front door again, displayed a clear confidence. Cautiously, she followed them to the living room doorway and peered inside.

Nothing seemed out of place on first sight. She flicked the light switch on and stepped inside, looking around much more carefully now. It was only when she reached the coffee table that she noticed it.

Lying on top of some magazines and bills was something she’d never seen before, but recognised instantly. It was a tourist information leaflet for Normanton Church. She picked it up and opened it, watching as a piece of paper slid out and fell onto the table.

51

Dear Detective Inspector Hills,

I need you to understand what happened — and why.