Page 53 of Final Betrayal

Lining them up on the mantelpiece she shifted them around until they were in the exact positions they should be in. The way he used to arrange them.

She caught her reflection in the mirror above the fireplace and rubbed a smudge from her brow with the yellow duster. Her father would have said she looked like death warmed up. And he’d have been right. If he was still alive.

As she brought her hand downwards, it clipped the corner of the porcelain shoe decorated with gold filigree, and before she could react, it had smashed on the bare floorboards.

She dropped to her knees and frantically tried to gather the pieces back into shape. Superglue might do it. But you’d still be able see the cracks. She crunched up the pieces into the palms of her hands. Felt the sharp edges cut her skin and let them fall away.

She needed air. She had to get out of the suffocating walls pulsing with memories, before her entire world fell apart.

He had stopped following her. She no longer heard the slap of feet on the path. Pausing to catch her breath, she chanced a look over her shoulder.

Darkness. Nothing. No one.

Louise exhaled and slowed to a brisk walk. Where had he come from? She wished she had her phone to call her dad to come pick her up. That had been an impetuous act, running out of the house. Like a petulant teenager. The one she used to be. The one she thought she had left behind ten years ago. The impressionable one. Yeah, she thought. She and Amy had a lot to answer for. Amy could not be dead.

Amy’s house was on a gated estate built by Louise’s father’s firm in an area where no one had ever envisaged houses being situated. It probably helped that Mr Whyte was on the council. She keyed in the entry code from a long-held memory, and as the gates swung open, she saw the convoy of cars parked on the road up near Amy’s house. Louise was rooted to the spot. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Her dad was right. Amy was dead.

She forced her feet to move and set off towards the house. No. She did not want to go in there. She wanted to go to someone who would comfort her. She turned back, edging between the closing gates before they banged shut.

Reaching the apartment block, she ran up the steps and pounded on the door. When it opened, she fell into the other girl’s arms.

‘Oh, Cristina,’ she sobbed.

‘What’s wrong, hon? You’re soaking wet. Come in. Come in.’

Louise allowed herself to be engulfed in a hug before stepping into the warmth of the apartment. As she did so, the door crashed open behind her and Cristina was thrown to the floor.

‘Hello, girls,’ a voice said.

Standing with her mouth wide open, her body convulsed with shivers, Louise only had eyes for the knife glinting in the gloved hand.

‘Aren’t you going to invite me in?’ The knife moved to the other hand.

Louise felt the prick of something sharp on the side of her neck. She tried to remain standing, but her entire body felt paralysed. Her legs gave way and she slumped against the wall. As her eyelids drooped, she heard Cristina scream.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Before heading up to bed, Lottie checked that all the doors and windows were locked. At the front door she thought she saw a shadow move behind the glass. Boyd?

She unhooked the chain, turned the key in the mortise lock and opened the door. There was no one there. The day had been exhausting and she felt her knees creak with tiredness. Seeing things now, she told herself. The image of the two murdered women lying on slabs in the morgue wouldn’t dissipate. Must be that, she thought.

About to close the door, she decided: no, best to have a proper look. She walked down the narrow path and onto the road. No cars. No cats or dogs. The rain had eased. Silence and serenity despite the whisper of a slow drizzle.

She went back up the path and paused as light spilled out from her hallway onto the step. What was that? Bending down, she studied a scattering of small seeds spread across the concrete. Had they been there when she went out a moment ago? She swung around. No one there.

And then she knew. She knew who had left them. Were they a warning, or an invitation to battle?

A bolt of fear slashed through her body. It was like someone had cut her veins and her lifeblood was slipping away. There was only one person she knew who had an unhealthy obsession with seeds and herbs. She had discovered this fact during her investigations which led to the arrest of her half-sister.

Bernie Kelly had been outside her house.

The woman curled away from the bush across the road as the door slammed shut. She was smiling to herself.

Lottie had got the message.

Shoving her hands deep into her pockets, she hummed a tuneless song deep within her throat. She wasn’t stupid enough to sing out loud. She couldn’t sing anyway.

Turning the corner, she moved out onto the main road, keeping close to the hedges. After a year cooped up, hands cuffed to her bed more often than not, it was good to be out in the fresh air. She didn’t care how long that freedom lasted, as long as she completed the task she had set out to do.

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