Page 71 of Carbon

She reached over and squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry you went through that. It must have been doubly devastating.”

“It got worse when they locked me up in a hell-hole for six weeks. I was stuck in a cell with a whole bunch of drug traffickers and one woman who really did kill a man, and she scared the crap out of me. Not that there was anywhere to crap. We didn’t have a proper toilet and the cell smelled like a sewer.”

“Bloody hell. What happened then?”

“Father brought in an army of lawyers and the British ambassador, and eventually the goat herder admitted he may have been mistaken.” I shuddered at the memory of eating slop from a bowl. “I’m never going back to that awful country again.”

“I can understand that. The Thai authorities do have their own unique brand of justice, although in some cases it’s well-deserved. That’s why you’re giving Beau the benefit of the doubt, isn’t it?”

“What if the British police make an awful mistake too?”

“The UK legal system is a lot more transparent. And I get that you want to think the best of people, but you’ve only spoken to Beau three times, according to your statement, and I hate to say it, but that might not have been enough to form a solid opinion of him, especially as we know he’s been hiding things like his true identity. Whether or not he killed your sister, he sure looks guilty of something.”

I chewed at the inside of my cheek, the words “I knew him better than that” balanced on the tip of my tongue. But as Emmy wound through the lanes that led to Sandlebury, I kept my mouth closed. I still didn’t know enough about Blackwood’s intentions to believe they’d do the right thing for Ben.

Instead, I turned the tables back on Emmy. “What wereyoudoing in the meeting today?”

“I’ve had luck with finding people in the past, so Black asked me to lend a hand.”

“I heard you flew in from Morocco?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s it like there? I always wanted to travel. Thailand was supposed to be the start of the adventure, but look how that turned out.”

“Well, Morocco’s hot. That’s about all I can tell you. I went to sit on the beach for a week, and he called me back after two nights.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s hardly your fault. Didn’t you go on holiday when you were a kid?”

“Mother always insisted we go to our villa in Barbados.” I let out a long breath. “Listen to me—I sound like a spoiled brat. Of course, I loved going to Barbados, but I just wished I could see a bit more of the world. But not Magaluf. One of Angie’s friends got married last year and they went there for the hen party. She hated everything about the place.”

And she came back with terrible food poisoning. I’d held her hair back while she puked for three days.

“Okay, not Magaluf. Where would you like to go?”

“What’s the point in thinking about it? I don’t have anybody to go with anymore, and I’d never travel alone.”

“Why not?”

“What if I got lost? Or somebody stole my wallet? Or I got ill?”

“You’d manage. That’s part of the fun.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think I ever will.”

The sign for Sandlebury Village flashed past on the right-hand side, flanked by two stone pillars and a neatly mown grass verge. We’d won the Best Kept Village competition two years running, and the Parish Council took the whole affair very seriously.

“I know SatNav says turn left, but it doesn’t mention how that road is only single width and leads to the local riding school. Ten to one you’ll get stuck behind a horse. It’s best to go straight on and then take the next junction.”

“Thanks.”

We made it to the garage with five minutes to spare, and Ned was just flipping the open sign to closed.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Emmy muttered, leaping from the car almost before it came to a stop. “You’re not closing early.”

I hurried along behind her as she strode over, wearing a smile that transformed her from beautiful to stunning. Any man approached by a girl with her looks couldn’t help but take notice, and Ned was no exception despite being in his early sixties.

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