Page 116 of Joker in the Pack

He perched on the edge of the table. “Spike had a poke around Larry’s room this morning.”

“And?”

Nye’s face darkened even more. “Larry had photos of Olivia and three other women in his nightstand.”

A tremor ran through me, and Nye squeezed my hand.

“A lot of photos?”

“Enough. The ones Betty mentioned of you on your bike and more of you walking down the high street…”

“What else? Tell me.”

“There were some of you sitting on the floor in the living room, packing up parcels.”

So Larryhadbeen at the cottage. I felt sick. “How could I have missed him?”

“It was evening when he took the pictures. It’s hard to see out into the dark when you’re in a lit room.”

“I should have drawn the curtains.”

“You weren’t to know.”

“Well, I won’t be making that mistake again.”

“I know, and I’m beyond furious that you’ve had to learn this way. We’ll keep watching Larry, and if he comes near you again, we’ll have more evidence against him.”

“But the photos…”

“We can’t admit we’ve seen those, not to the police.” He pressed a soft yet heated kiss to the corner of my mouth, full of promise. “I’ll stay with you the whole time, Liv. But in the meantime, we need to find whatever’s hidden in this house.”

By the end of the day, the optimistic mood had diminished somewhat, and I’d heard murmured suggestions of tearing down walls. I sincerely hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

“We’ve still got most of upstairs left to do,” Nye said once everyone else had left for the night. “Maybe our missing piece is up there?”

“It just feels hopeless.”

He gave my shoulders a squeeze. “At least we’ll know, one way or the other.”

“But if we don’t find anything, how will the man after me know that? What if he keeps coming?”

“Maybe we could take out an advert in the local newspaper.” Nye was only half joking.

“Or hire one of those planes to fly a banner?”

“How about a leaflet drop? Or one of those town crier dudes with the bell?”

I couldn’t help smiling at the thought of that.

Better to laugh than cry, right?

Nye traced my dimples. “That’s better. If we don’t find anything, I’ll tell Carol. Job done. Shall I order a pizza?”

The last thing I felt like doing that evening was cooking. “Please.”

“You want everything on it?”

“Except anchovies.”

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