LAND OF BODIES

DI OLIVIA AUSTIN - BOOK FORTY-SEVEN

NIC ROBERTS

Copyright © 2025 by Nic Roberts

‘Land of Bodies’

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Some may be used for parody purposes.

Any resemblance to events, locales, business establishments, or actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

CONTENTS

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Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Epilogue

Book Forty-Eight

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PROLOGUE

She ran as fast as she could, not caring about the gravel and sharp objects biting at her bare feet. The adrenaline rush was blocking out any pain.

All she could think about was finding her way out of hell.

In fact, that’s what she thought. Maybe she’d died and gone to hell. Maybe they all had.

She looked up to the top of the trees, trying to find a patch of moonlight that the canopy of trees hadn’t covered, something she could use to navigate her way through the woods back to the main road, to perhaps flag down a car.

But it was pitch black all around her, and her eyes weren’t adjusting to the dark fast enough.

She wasn’t sure if there was anyone behind her. She couldn’t hear any footsteps over the sound of her pounding heart. For all she knew, they could be either on the other side of the woods or about to pounce on her from behind. She didn’t dare look over her shoulder to check.

Her thoughts turned to the other people still out there. Not just the people who were hunting her, but also, the people who were still out there. People she’d grown close to.

It was in that rare moment that she felt wracked with guilt at having left them behind to face the horrors by themselves.

She tried to tell herself that she needed to get away. That if one person got away, then she could come back and save some of them. It sounded like a good plan in principle.

Now, she was wondering if there was going to be anybody left to save.

Had she just abandoned them all to a horrific fate?

They’d told themselves that there was safety in numbers.

And yet, she was out in the open on her own, with no means of defending herself. She didn’t even think to bring a weapon.

She was so caught up in the thoughts of the people she’d left behind that she didn’t see the long branch sticking out of the ground, concealed by the leaves and overgrowth.

She felt the tug against her ankle and found herself crumbling to the ground, landing face first in the leaves.

She was left dazed by the fall, but the rush of adrenaline allowed her to recover quickly. Immediately, she remembered that she was still on the run and tried to tug at the branch that’d seemingly caught her leg.

Only it didn’t feel rough enough to be a branch.

She whipped her head around to get a good look at it, and indeed, it wasn’t a branch. Though it probably would have been better if it were.

It was an arm.

Her line of sight travelled along the arm until she found herself staring into the lifeless eyes of her close friend.

She screamed in horror and backed away, scrambling to her feet and darting around, searching to see if the killer was nearby.

She suddenly realised that the scream could have doomed her. Suddenly, she grew tired of the cat and mouse game she’d been forced into. She screamed out at the top of her lungs, “WHERE ARE YOU!?”

The response came not in words but in the form of a piece of tree next to her suddenly erupting, sending fragments spraying in her direction. She could feel those fragments hit her in the face, stunning her, and she looked around the woodland area, knowing that they were there in front of here, able to keep out of sight.

Only then did the response come through.

“Run.”

1

Five days earlier…

“I don’t know what we’re going to do without you,” Detective Sergeant Archie Elmhurst exclaimed as his partner, Olivia Austin, made her final rounds around the station… for now.

“I think you might be overreacting,” she responded lightly, checking over a stack of paperwork. “We’re talking about a week away in Lincolnshire. It’s not like I’m going to disappear and never return.” She and her partner, Dean Lawrence, had booked some time away in a rural part of the world, a chance to get leave work behind and enjoy some time to themselves. And a chance to maybe get away from all the chaos that we’ve had on our doorstep for the past few years.

“Well, we all thought Nikki was going away for a short break,” he retorted. “And look what happened there.”

Their colleague and friend, DS Nikki Harding, had taken a temporary secondment to Derby, only to seemingly fall in love with the place and her colleagues and make a permanent move there. The team had tried to be happy that she’d found the peace that had eluded her since her husband died, but Newquay’s CID offices felt much less energetic without her.

“I’m not applying for a job there,” Liv insisted. “And besides, if I have to surround myself with any more coppers, I’m going to go mad. All I need to know is, will you guys be able to hold the fort without me?”

“No, we all going to crash and burn without you,” the sergeant replied sarcastically. “Of course, we’re going to be fine,” he insisted. “And we’re going to update you on any of the—”

“Absolutely not,” Liv interrupted, knowing that there were a number of ongoing cases that she’d been working on for the last few months. A notable one was the false imprisonment of a woman which had led to the potential reveal of a clandestine network of corrupt police officers. It was a case that she hoped to see through to the end, at which point Dean had stepped in and said he’d sorted out a break for her, reasoning that if she kept going at breakneck speed, she’d be heading for a burnout.

“If there’s an issue, then I’m sure you guys can handle it,” she said confidently, having worked with Archie long enough to know that he was 100% trustworthy. “You guys don’t need me to hold your hands over the phone.” And given what Dean and I are likely to be getting up to, we probably won’t have much time for talking. “The only thing I would ask is that you check on my brother and sister to see if they’re doing all right.”

“Of course,” Archie responded without hesitation.

“Thanks,” she said, glad she could rely on her partner.

Liv gazed out the window, reflecting on her first days in the town. When she’d come to Newquay, she’d enjoyed rediscovering old roots. Now, she knew it all, and she felt like there was a little less magic to be uncovered, a feeling which was not helped by the daily grind of her job.

She was pretty sure that that was why Dean was getting her out of Newquay for a week.

He hadn’t told her much about the place they were going to, saying it was meant to be a surprise.

“If anything, else pops up, speak to Collins,” she told Archie, having transferred much of her caseload over to other officers.

She took another glance out the window, suddenly eager to get away.

Dean had told her, ‘Where we’re going, your problems aren’t invited, and they’ll be here when you get back.’

But Olivia knew that trouble always had a way of finding her.

2

They’d been driving for a few hours, stopping off at the woodland area to let Briggs stretch his legs. On the drive, the dog had been fascinated with his new surroundings, putting his paws up on the windows as he gazed outside.

“You sure you’re okay with Briggs coming with us?” Dean asked, pointing back at the dog.

“He needs the break just as much as we do,” she said, reaching into the back and scratching the dog’s ears. “Besides, he probably would have driven my mum up the wall. Where we’re going, he’s going to have many more places to roam around.”

“So, do you want to tell me a bit more about where we’re headed?” she asked, her curiosity piqued. It was a nice change of pace trying to guess a holiday destination instead of whether a husband had killed his wife.

“It’s an old country mansion,” Dean explained, rummaging around on his phone without taking his eyes off the road and bringing up an image which he showed to Liv.

She took the phone, her eyes widening at the sight. It was a majestic house that towered over a beautiful well-kept garden. “That’s beautiful,” she exclaimed in awe before her paranoia came to the forefront. “Wait, you didn’t bankrupt yourself, did you?”

“Of course not,” he responded with a chuckle. “I like my bank account too much. It’s just something that’s rented out to people looking for a getaway. Just as well I could only do the week. Any longer than that and we’d have to keep working until we’re ninety.”

“And they are okay with us having a dog there?” Liv asked, knowing that Briggs was quite well-behaved, but some people would turn their nose up at pets, especially the upper class.

“They’re fine with it,” Dean insisted. “As long as he doesn’t cock his leg up anything or use the cushions as his own personal chew toy.”

“And how far is it from civilisation?” Liv asked, a little hesitant about going into a place in the middle of nowhere.

“There are shops within driving distance,” Dean chortled. “It’s not like we’re going to shut ourselves in and go mad with cabin fever.”

Liv tried to imagine the kind of things they’d get up to. She figured that Dean had arranged much of the trip with the hopes of the two just having some time to themselves. As long as he doesn’t expect me to uphill my job to play Downton Abbey for a few days.

Nearly to their destination, there was a gorgeous woodland area they drove up, and a pathway marked with gravel.

The luscious green looked beautiful, and Liv was tempted to whip out her camera and take a few pictures. She could imagine tripping over brambles trying to catch up with Briggs, who was looking at all the greenery like his canine dreams had just come true.

Unfortunately, Liv’s wild imagination couldn’t help but feel that the scenery would look a lot less beautiful in the nighttime.

The house came into view, and it certainly looked like a beautiful residence. Grand enough to feel miles away from the housing of Newquay and quaint enough that Liv felt like she was stepping into an Agatha Christie novel.

She looked slyly at Dean. “What are the rules about us making use of… all the rooms in the house?” She raised an eyebrow, knowing he’d cottoned onto her hidden meaning.

“Well,” he responded slyly, daring to take his eyes off the path and look at her. “As long as we don’t make too much of a mess…”

A fantasy blossomed inside her, only to come to a grinding halt at the sight of an unwanted sight on the driveway.

“What the fuck?”

3

It felt odd for Katie Gibson to be entering the police station. When she first walked through the doors, it had been as an undercover journalist posing as a police officer. Since she’d been caught out, rather than hold any resentment for the officers, the experience had given Katie the chance to have a good long look at herself, and she didn’t like what she saw.

This had led her to take on causes that she normally would not have bothered with, like helping a young woman embroiled in a sexual exploitation case.

She couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony that her original mission had been to root out incompetent or corrupt police officers, and now that she was officially out in the open, she was doing exactly that—at increasing risk to herself.

The door opened, and DS Archie Elmhurst stepped into the room. Since she’d brought forward pivotal evidence, he’d stopped looking like her like shit on his shoe, so technically, that was progress.

“How are you finding the safe house?” he asked, taking a seat opposite her.

“Well, it’s nice to be able to go to sleep without worrying about someone putting a pillow over my face,” she answered blithely, wishing that she were dealing with DI Austin rather than her partner. But she’d been told that for whatever reason Olivia would be unavailable for the next week, so she’d need to make inroads with everyone else.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m grateful for the support you’ve provided for the case,” Archie stated. “And we are aware of the danger you’ve put yourself in along the way.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” she responded, trying to play down her own anxieties.

“Yes, I would imagine that as a journalist, you’re used to people threatening to kill you,” the sergeant stated in a tone that left Katie wondering if it was meant as a fact or a judgment. “But if the allegations are true, then people are going to be crawling out of the woodworks to find you. Anyone whose wallets are about to get a lot lighter. We could keep you in the safe house, but there is always the risk of that address falling into the wrong hands, especially if we find out there are more corrupt police officers involved.”

“So, what’s the solution?” Katie asked, knowing she probably wouldn’t like whatever was on the cards.

“We should consider putting you into witness protection.”

Katie had been expecting something along those lines, but even so, she was taken aback by the course of action he was suggesting. “You’re not serious.”

“I am,” he responded. “As Georgia Madsen’s closest confidant and having had direct involvement with some of the participants in this case, we may need you to testify in court.”

Katie felt her stomach plummet. While it wasn't as if she were leaving any friends or family behind, the idea of leaving her life behind, everything she knew, troubled her a little.

“Is there any chance that if you guys catch these coppers that won’t be necessary?” she asked, daring to sound hopeful.

“Come on,” Archie noted dryly. “You’re an intelligent woman. You know enough to realize that being imprisoned has never stopped criminals from getting to witnesses. It could be that the only way we can protect you. We’ll have to have as similar conversation with Georgia as well.”

Katie slumped back in her seat. “I only just got my life back on track.”

Archie shuffled in his seat, leaving her wondering whether her past mistakes had been forgiven but not forgotten.

“Maybe you could take this as a chance to start afresh,” he suggested sympathetically.

“Going to be hard to do that if I am spending the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.”

4

Liv saw several cars parked out the front of the house, all lined up. “I thought you said the owners weren’t supposed to be home.”

“They aren’t,” Dean insisted.

He saw a group of people exiting the cars, all dressed in casual clothes, moving into the house at a slow pace, clearly not finding the same beauty in the location that Liv and Dean had.

They watched from their car as the people assembled into a small group gathered outside the front of the house where a man stood in front of them with a shaved head, a goatee, glasses, and a sweater, which Liv felt gave him an ironic hipster vibe.

He was saying something to the group, but neither Liv nor Dean was able to make out what he was saying.

Dean got out of the car and walked over to the leader, who looked a little put off at being disrupted and tried squaring up to Dean, to little avail.

Liv couldn’t hear the conversation between them, but she could see her beloved getting increasingly irate and the group leader growing increasingly smug.

Getting out of the car, she marched over to find the pair in mid-rant.

“I don’t know what the homeowners told you, but we were supposed to have the week to ourselves.”

“I’m sorry, do you just expect me to ask all my colleagues to pack up and go?” the group leader asked, stroking his goatee.

“Wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Dean snapped.

“What’s going on?” Liv asked, already feeling like she’d got the measure of the situation.

“Apparently, there’s been a double booking,” Dean explained, folding his arms. “And this one is refusing to move.”

“Do you know how long it has taken to organise a company retreat?” the group leader asked. “A long bloody time! And we’re still missing two people, at that. By my count, there’s fifteen of us compared to two of you. Now, i don’t know what you two have planned for the next few days, but I’m going to suggest that we just keep out of each other’s way. You do your thing, and we’ll do ours. It’s a big house, so I’m sure we’ll be able to avoid each other.”

He turned and rejoined his group going into the house.

“I take it we can’t just whip out our badges and make him shift?” Liv asked sarcastically.

“Don’t tempt me,” he responded, looking deflated that their romantic getaway had been hijacked. “So much for doing it in every room.”

“I’m sure we can still have a good time even with them here,” she said, though she was a bit disappointed that their alone time had been compromised. “And given how long it’s taken us to get here, I don’t want to head back to the grind of daily life just yet.”

Dean sighed. He wanted to go along with it, but he was still holding on to the beautiful, golden, gleaming romance he had in his head.

“We can still make it a good day,” she insisted, taking him by the arm and leading him into the house. “Maybe we can still nab a decent bedroom before anyone else beats us to it.”

“Let’s hope, because there’s no way I’m sleeping in a broom closet,” he muttered.

Suddenly, Briggs started barking madly at something out of sight, surprising Liv. The dog was normally quite level-headed. “Come on, Briggs, inside!” she called.

They walked into the house, telling each other they’d find time to themselves, that she wouldn’t need to devolve into detective mode…

…but she had no idea what the next week would bring.

If she’d glimpsed at the outside a little while longer, she would have seen the figure Briggs had been barking at.

5

They tried to enjoy the impeccable decor, the entry point to a better class of life, but it was hindered by the sound of people walking through the house, dumping bags in various rooms, and making the space their own.

“I’m going to take your suggestion that we go and bag one of the bedrooms before anyone else gets there,” Dean decided, taking Liv by the arm and heading forward with Liv following closely behind.

They came to a large bedroom that had been recently tidied, the scent of spring-cleaning hanging in the air. Liv collapsed onto the bed, exhaustion overwhelming her. “I’m dying for a shower,”

“Well, you might want to save that for later,” Dean suggested, leaning down over the bed and brushing the hair out of her face. His nostrils flared as he deeply inhaled the scent of her. He moved closer down and trailed kisses over her face and neck.

His hands trailed down her chest, his lips brushing against the fabric of her shirt. There was a wolfish look on his face, and Liv wondered if he was going to tear the buttons off her shirt with his bare teeth.

Instead, he settled for slowly brushing his hands against her shirt and gently undoing the buttons, dragging out the process torturously, driving Olivia mad with arousal.

The buttons were soon undone, exposing Liv’s perfect chest. She wanted him to pounce on her then and there, but Dean had done this charged dance with her several times before, and he knew exactly how to pace her and how to stimulate her. His hands trailed down her body, fingers twitching slightly with deep, intimate knowledge.

He finally arrived at her belt, and he started undoing it, knowing exactly how to satisfy her now that they were locked away from the rest of the world in their little corner of paradise…

…save for the sound of arguing next door.

The pair tried to block out the distraction and focus their attention on each other, but the raised voices grew in volume, and the two found themselves focusing more and more on the conversation going on next door.

“I don’t need some fucking charity, not from him. And I don’t care how much fucking money they’re offering me!” a voice shouted from the next room at a loud volume, cutting through the sensual atmosphere between the two lovers.

“Way to kill the romance,” Dean muttered bitterly, propping himself up on his elbows, unable to get into the mood with Olivia.

“It’s the type of thing that could set you up for life!” a female voice insisted wearily, trying to play the voice of reason but instead coming across as grating.

“It’s easy for you to say,” a man responded. “I built this business from the ground up, and I’ve spent the last five years sitting on the sidelines, begging for scraps. And now you want me to roll over and take what is basically chump change?”

“If you don’t open the door when opportunity knocks, you might not get another chance,” the woman insisted, a phrase she seemed to be fond of using given how easily it rolled off her tongue.

Liv and Dean listened in, finding themselves wrapped up in the argument, all thoughts of the previously loving atmosphere going out the window.

“You just don’t know what it’s like!” he exclaimed. “You sit there with your posturing and come out with all these stock phrases that you’ve probably nicked from some self-help book. I don’t even know what the fuck I’m doing with you.”

Suddenly, there was the sound of glass smashing and then a loud thud as something smashed into the wall.

Something big.

Big enough to be a body.

6

Liv and Dean recoiled from the sudden sound.

They eagerly waited for something to follow the thud—more talking, more noise, anything—but there was complete silence.

Finally, came the sound of footsteps, followed by the opening and closing of a door which abruptly slammed shut.

They listened in for anything other sound from inside their room, but there was nothing.

“Do you think we should go and check?” Dean asked, looking around the room for his discarded clothes.

“Don’t you think we should keep out of domestics?” Liv asked, knowing that if they had left everything behind in Newquay just to do everything they did in Newquay, they might as well have stayed behind.

“I know we’re not on duty,” Dean muttered, unsure of how thin the walls were. “But if it were you, wouldn’t you want somebody to check on you?”

Liv couldn’t find an acceptable answer to that. Even though it frustrated her no end that they were potentially giving up their time for what could be a misunderstanding, the fact that Dean would not let a potential injustice go unnoticed was one of the many things she loved about him.

He threw on some clothes and walked out of the room, into the corridor, and knocked on the door. “Hello?” he called, waiting patiently. He hoped that whoever was on the other side wasn’t going to be one of those, ‘I tripped and walked into a door’ types, or insistent that ‘he loves me really’.

But no one came to the door. Dean’s hand hovered over the handle, and he was tempted to head inside and check on the guest, but he figured that would only startle them.

“Just so you know,” he said slowly, trying to make himself heard without alerting anyone else around of possible trouble. “If you need to talk, my name is Dean Lawrence…” He was about to say that he was part of Newquay CID, but he was worried that this admission might make the occupant clam up even more so. “...and if you need someone to talk to, just let me know.”

He waited for a long moment, hoping for a response, but none came.

Reluctantly, he turned away and headed back to his room where Olivia was sat on the bed in a state of undress, undecided as to whether to get her clothes on or follow Dean. “So, what happened?”

“No word from the other side,” he said, looking a little disappointed. “I got the impression she wanted to be left alone.”

“Well, I’ve got no problem with any of that,” she said, buttoning up her shirt. “We need to think about what we’re going to do for dinner… and whether we’re going to be eating with a small audience.”

“Here’s hoping they can find something to occupy their time,” he suggested. “Let’s hope that whatever they get up to around here, it involves a nature walk. A very, very long nature walk. As for food, we have some decent steaks I picked up from the butchers.”

“That explains why Briggs was drooling all over the backseat,” Liv suggested, looking at the dog who’d jumped onto the end of the bed and was already making himself at home.

“I just need to get them from the car and maybe see if I can find out why the other group is here,” Dean suggested, fully dressed and moving over to the door.

“What are you going to do if you run into the bickering couple again?” Liv asked, not wanting the overheard argument to overshadow the entire weekend.

“Well, hopefully, we won’t run into them again,” Dean suggested, sounding overly optimistic.

“It’s us and them in the middle of nowhere. Of course, we’re going to run into them.”

7

Dean and Liv walked down the corridor, vowing to explore the house in greater length later on.

“You have much correspondence with the owners?” Liv asked.

“House has been in the family for years,” he noted. “I believe the guy even used the exact words ‘ancestral birthright’.” Liv sniggered at that. “I bullshit you not, those were his exact words. Most of the time, they’re barely in the house. They just rent it out to people went they fancy a bit of extra loose change.”

Liv had seen some of the fees one could charge for staying in a house like this and scoffed at the idea of it being ‘loose change’. “I’m beginning to wish I was born into money.”

“One can dream,” Dean mused as they came back into the main hallway. “You go and get Briggs to stretch his legs, and I’ll join you shortly.”

“Sure.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek and gripped the dog’s lead tightly. She knew it wasn’t necessary. Briggs never wandered too far from his owners, but she didn’t ever want to run the risk of Briggs walking too far off in unfamiliar territory.

There was a narrow footpath around the back of the house that led up to a set of hedges in various states of overgrowth and a small stream trickling alongside the footpath.

Liv walked along the pathway, Briggs looking up at her with pleading eyes, wanting to go off and explore. He was deliberately making his eyes inflate to sway her.

“Go on, then,” she finally decided, unhooking his leash and letting him trot ahead, occasionally stopping to sniff at the ground.

As she walked, Liv enjoyed the sensations around her—the distant sound of birdcalls, the wind blowing against the trees, and the gentle stream of the water. She wouldn’t actually mind living here.

She closed her eyes, enjoying the mental imagery and the possibility of a quieter, calmer life with Dean…

Suddenly, there was the sound of a shot, startling Olivia back to the present and leaving Briggs rushing to her aid. She felt something small and sharp brush against her face.

In those fleeting seconds, she wondered if the sound was some mental leftover from a previous case, trying to break through to the peace she was trying to find for herself there.

She opened her eyes… and froze.

There was a large tree a few feet away from her. Only since she’d closed her eyes, a small part of the tree had erupted. At the same time she noticed the damage, Olivia felt a stabbing pain on her forehead and reached up. She felt something damp and pulled her hand away. Blood.

Instinct coming roaring back to her, Olivia threw herself to the ground. She wanted to force Briggs to the ground as well, but the dog was just out of reach. He’d clearly sensed the attack and was roaming around looking for the shooter. Please God, don’t let my dog get hit.

She couldn’t see anyone walking up and down the footpath, which was just as well, otherwise they’d be walking towards her.

She wondered who’d fired the shot and why. Had it simply been an accident? Looking around the pathway and the embankment, she couldn’t think of anything worth shooting at.

There was another possibility… an impossible one that chilled Liv to the bone and shouldn’t have even been a consideration.

That the shooter had known exactly who she was, and the shot wasn’t a mistake.

It was a warning.

Panic riling up, she hastily beckoned for Briggs to come over, and the two sprinted back down the garden towards the safety of the house, blood dripping from the wound on Liv’s forehead.

8

Dean was exploring more of the house, taking care not to break anything that looked more expensive than a month’s salary.

As he rounded a corner, he fully collided with someone.

“Oh, soz!” the young woman said, scrambling to pick up her fallen item, which consisted of a rolled-up blue yoga mat.

Dean looked her up and down. She was in her mid-twenties, had dyed blue hair styled in a pixie cut, and was wearing a pair of blue dungarees over a white t-shirt.

“No worries,” Dean offered, scraping himself down. He tried to match her voice with the female participant he’d heard earlier that day.

She looked around the room to make sure they weren't overheard. “Listen, I just want to say sorry for the mix-up that happened with the bookings,” she offered sincerely.

“No worries. It can't be helped,” Dean responded with a shrug. “...unless you were the one who made the booking.”

“Oh, no, definitely not,” she chortled lightly. “I'm nowhere near management level. My name is Becky Edwards; I'm an occupational therapist.” She held out a card which Dean took out of politeness.

Sensing a potential way in, Dean asked slowly, “So, what is this group in aid of?”

“It’s meant as some kind of thought camp,” Becky replied chirpily. “Just giving everyone a bit of a breather from the daily grind.”

“And what does the daily grind consist of?” Dean asked, hoping he didn’t sound too nosy.

“I work for a graphics company,” Becky explained. “They provide graphics for things like independent video games, up and coming directors. So, really, it’s people who want to get into the game but don’t have the resources to keep up with the big leagues. So, we offer to step in and provide certain services to them at a decent price. You’ve heard of Build-It-Up, haven’t you?”

“Would I sound like I’ve been hiding under a rock if I said no?” Dean asked, having never been much of a video gamer.

“Well, we’re a really big brand,” Becky explained, pointing to the card she’d handed him.

Dean nodded slowly, thinking back to the group leader. That would explain the inflated sense of self-importance.

“So, what exactly are you doing with the group?” he asked, conscious of sounding offensive.

“It’s a lot of work committing to designing graphics all day,” Becky explained. “Sometimes, people need to unwind and get in touch with their calmer selves. They retreat in order to go forward. And sometimes, connecting with nature is the best way to go about it.”

“So, what exactly does this therapy consist of?” Dean asked, folding his arms. “It’s not standing in a crop circle, is it?”

“Of course not,” she replied, looking a little affronted. “We try to go about it peacefully. The problem with video game footage is that it can fill one with a lot of violent thoughts.”

Dean tried not to laugh at that, given his own line of work.

“So, you think bringing them into the countryside will help with stress?”

“Of course,” Becky replied with utmost certainty. “Out here, there are no anxieties, no distractions. There’s nothing out there that can hurt anyone or—”

Suddenly, the front doors burst open, and Olivia stumbled into the hallway, panting heavily. Briggs was at her side, looking up at his owner with concern.

“Liv?” Dean asked, completely forgetting about the woman standing next to him and rushing over to his fiancé, noticing the bleeding wound on her forehead. “What the fuck?”

9

Liv wasn’t sure how she’d made it all the way back to the house. The only possible explanation was the adrenaline.

She’d sprinted all the way back to the house, just focusing on getting back and putting as much distance between herself and the shooter.

When she finally made it to the relative safety of the house, she locked eyes with Dean and was tempted to just sink into his arms and fall unconscious. But she was made of stronger stuff than that. “Back… to… the room,” she gasped out, trying to keep herself upright.

Dean looked from his fiancé to the woman he’d been chatting with, all thoughts of polite conversation now gone.

* * *

By the time Dean made it to the bedroom, Liv had stripped off her clothes and had gone into the shower, letting the water wash over her, the blood mixing with the water. Why the fuck is it still bleeding?

Dean inspected the wound, rolling up his sleeves. “Let me have a look,” he asked, and she held her still for him as his fingers delicately pressed against the sides of the wound.

“Do you think I’m going to need stitches?” Liv asked, feeling for the wound.

“I should hope not,” he muttered, inspecting the cut left by the shrapnel. “God knows how long to the nearest hospital.”

“Glad to know you’ve got your priorities in order,” she joked, a much-needed lightness filling the room.

Once Liv was sure that the bleeding had subsided, she stepped out of the shower as Dean returned with a first aid kit. “You’re lucky,” he muttered, pulling out a large bandage. “If that’d been any deeper, you would have needed stitches.”

“First the double-booking, now the accidental shooting,” Liv muttered as she held still for him to apply the bandage. “I get the feeling we’d have been better off sticking in Newquay.”

Dean didn’t offer a direct response to that. “Do you have any idea who could have done it?”

Liv went silent, and he could tell her mind had already been whirring with possibilities.

“It could have been some gamekeeper out hunting for his dinner,” Dean suggested. “You get a lot of that in the country.”

“Then why choose to remain hidden?” Liv asked as she smoothed the bandage over her head. “Last time I checked, you didn’t need to be a sniper to catch a rabbit.”

“Probably got embarrassed and ran off because he didn’t want to get in trouble,” Dean suggested. “Figured we might report him to the police.”

“I could have just gone a step further and arrested him myself,” she suggested. “I still don’t get all the secrecy. When you organised the booking, was there any mention of a gamekeeper or local hunter?”

“Not really,” he replied before admitting with embarrassment, “It’s not really the kind of thing you ask when booking a holiday.” Leaning into playing devil’s advocate, he suggested, “I think if somebody wanted to shoot you, they would have shot you.”

But Liv was only half-listening, her mind turning to the people they were sharing the house with. “How much do you know about the other group?” she asked slowly.

Dean scoffed. “Liv, I think you might be reaching a little…”

“How? We’re the only other people in the area. Unless you have a better suggestion? I want to know a bit more about our other guests.”

Dean stepped back as Liv rose to her full height, setting into DI Austin mode. You’re not seriously suggesting rounding up the entire household and asking for alibis, are you?”

She shrugged. “Why not? It’s usually the best place to start.”

10

“There’s a thousand explanations for what could have happened to you,” the group leader spat out when Liv and Dean confronted him in the kitchen.

“I’d be happy with just one,” Dean retorted.

Since finding out the name of the company, they’d determined the name of the owner, Henry Franklin, and a look at the profile page, which the man himself had clearly written, showed that he was just as pompous online as he was in day-to-day life.

He looked to Liv, glancing at her bandage head. “Why would any of us shoot you?” he asked. “I barely know the two of you.”

Liv paused, realising she hadn’t thought that far ahead. There was a small part of her that wanted to say, ‘because the house was double-booked’, but she decided against it, clearly realising how ridiculous that would sound as a motive.

“I came here for a very important meeting, something that was supposed to be conducted in private between key people. That plan goes to the dogs if I’ve got you two there.”

Dean looked surprised. Based on what Becky had told him earlier that day, it was meant to be a fairly casual event. So, he was surprised by the sudden need for secrecy.

“So, why are you here?” Liv asked, pressing the matter.

“That’s… confidential,” he finally muttered, looking down at them and pacing up and down the kitchen.

“We can always ask some of your staff,” Liv suggested. “Maybe they will be a little more forthcoming.”

“They could,” Henry noted with a confident nod. “But then they’d find themselves in breach of contract.”

Henry’s attempts to shut down the line of inquiry only made Liv more curious.

“I’m pretty sure we could pry the information out of them, if need be,” she suggested coyly.

“Who do you think you are?” he asked, looking at them both incredulously. “The fucking police?”

“Well, it’s funny you should say that,” Liv smirked, wishing she hadn’t left her badge in the room.

* * *

“Well, that was very painful,” Dean said once they were back in their bedrooms. The sky had darkened, and the greenery was looking a lot more sinister in the fading light.

They’d spent the better part of two hours speaking to all of the guests of the house and working out where they were and what they were doing around the time Liv literally dodged a bullet.

Afterwards, they’d had a private dinner away from the other guests and had kept to themselves.

“It’s probably going to be awkward if we show our faces around them over the next few days,” Dean noted.

“Can’t help feeling a little bit curious about what all the fuss is about,” Liv noted.

“Probably best if we keep out of it,” he suggested.

“But we still don’t know who took a shot at me,” Liv noted. “Tomorrow, I’m going to go back to the tree and have a look at the casing…” She paused. Dean was too noble to actually voice his concerns, but she could sense the disappointment in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I know this isn’t what you had in mind when you planned the getaway.”

“Maybe not,” he reassured, maybe a little too quickly. He reached over to her on the bed and grasped her hands. “But at least we have each other.”

She smiled at that, grateful that he always had her back. But she also knew she had to give him a romantic time together.

Hopefully, the stray bullet was exactly that and they wouldn’t hear any more about it. She could hope, anyway…

11

Liv was feeling restless as she looked up at the ceiling. Dean was fast asleep next to her. Maybe it’s just being away from my own bed.

The wound on her head had stopped aching by now, but the headache was in full force. Gently throwing off the covers, she got up and decided to head to the kitchen, while also letting Briggs out for a stroll.

It was such a distance to the kitchen that she found herself wishing for the simpler routine of going from their bedroom to the kitchen in minutes flat.

As she was coming up to the kitchen, she heard the sound of hushed voices.

“Listen, I need to be here,” a woman was saying over the phone. “It’s not about hurting you or going against what you want.” There was a pause. “That’s unfair. Of course, I want to see him. How can you even say that?”

Liv crept into the kitchen and saw a woman her age with auburn hair in a dressing gown speaking into the phone. “Look, I’ll see him when I get home, all right?” she finally exclaimed, hanging up the phone. She sighed heavily, leaning on the kitchen counter as though for support. She turned her head, sensing the presence of another and nearly jumped out of her skin at the sight of Liv. “Shit…”

“Sorry,” Liv muttered apologetically, wondering if she should back out of the kitchen.

“No, it’s okay. It’s not you, it’s me,” she explained. “I’m a bundle of nerves.”

“You having trouble sleeping?” Liv asked out of genuine concern.

“Something like that,” the woman said. She held up her phone. “I spend so much time away from home that you’d think I’d get used to it. But… it never gets any easier. I get that it comes with the territory. I accepted when I took this job that it was the price I had to pay.”

Liv listened sympathetically. “Is that not difficult on your family?”

The woman looked out of the window into the blackness. “I’ve done well out of it. I got this job after coming back from maternity leave. And I’ve got to say, I was so grateful to get back into work. I love my daughter, but I felt like I was at my best in the office.”

Liv wondered if it was going to be one of those cases where the woman thought the grass was greener on the other side.

“Now I feel like I barely see her,” the woman insisted. “I came home from a trip to see her, I brought her a load of teddy bears, and yet, she still greeted me like I was a complete stranger and kept asking for her dad.”

Liv nodded sympathetically, thinking of her sister Mills, who’d been a constant presence in her children’s lives, and found herself wondering whether she would be able to juggle motherhood with her career.

“Do you think you might get time off?” Liv asked, busying herself with looking for the available food.

“If I could, believe me, I would,” the woman said. “But there’s a lot going on with the company and with all the changes that are coming, I feel that I need to be around for that. If I can’t do the job, then they’ll find someone who can.”

“Surely, they can give you some leave,” Liv suggested. “They’re not unreasonable.”

“You’d be surprised how hard they work you at that place,” the woman said with a little smile. “Look, it was great talking to you and thanks for listening, but I’ve really got to get back to bed.” She turned around and headed for the entrance.

“I hope you can work things out with your daughter,” Liv called after her.

The woman turned around, looking pensive. “Me too. Maybe when this is all done, I can book a holiday for us.”

And then she was gone.

There was something about the way she left that spooked Liv, her movements filled with a kind of finality…

…but Liv knew better than to get involved with a stranger and busied herself with getting a snack before heading back to bed, figuring she’d probably never run into the woman again anyway.

12

Detective Superintendent Steven Collins felt overwhelmed by the recent turn of events.

So many scandals of late had rocked the police service, he was amazed the public still had any faith in them. From having an undercover journalist infiltrating as a police officer, DS Nikki Harding leaving Newquay, and now the possibility of a clandestine network of corrupt police officers, Collins wondered if the universe was trying to tell him something.

His wife, whom he’d often been on shaky terms with of late, had suggested he take early retirement. It had been a random suggestion but one that’d sparked a lot of thought for Collins.

He’d been in the service for thirty-five years, and he’d seen a lot of good officers come and go. Every single time he sent DI Austin out on a case, he always suspected it would be for the last time.

And now, hearing about possible colleagues…

He remembered when he first transferred to CID, he remembered being invited by several other officers in the area for a local party, the chance for a barbecue, some drinks, and swapping stories with some of the more seasoned officers.

He remembered taking in the house they were visiting and thinking that it was far too fancy for someone on an inspector’s salary. He knew people who’d managed the balancing act of earning a little money on the side without being showy about it. They made it an art form.

He remembered an older officer sizing him up, telling him how Newquay would be good for his career. Give him all the right opportunities.

But Collins had explained, without getting confrontational, that he wasn't looking to mix with any questionable crowds. He was only interested in doing a good job.

And the words seemed to have sent ripples through the party. Even though people treated him with the same level of courtesy, he could feel the atmosphere change.

After that weekend, he wasn’t invited to any more get-togethers. He was on the outside looking in, watching all the other attendees get promoted ahead of him.

He wondered if any of them had any part to play in these scandals.

He thought about the leaflet burning a hole in his drawer, knowing that he’d need to address it at some point. All of a sudden, all that talk about not having enough time suddenly became frighteningly real.

He opened the drawer ever so slightly, seeing the words almost jump out at him, prompting him to shut the drawer again.

He knew he’d have to keep quiet about it. If anyone got wind of this, he knew people would be calling for his resignation and early retirement.

But he refused to go quietly. Especially when there was still so much work to be done.

There were a few enquiries that he needed to make, and he needed to make sure nobody else was aware.

He grabbed his coat and walked out of the office and into the night.

He didn’t know if he could consult with the other members of the team. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. They were some of the best people he’d ever worked with.

But he felt that depending on the outcome of that night, he didn’t want to risk dragging them down with him.

All those years ago, he’d been made subtle offers for advancement in exchange for his principles.

Now he had to convince certain people that he was willing to dive deep into those waters. It would be the performance of a lifetime… and his last if he couldn’t pull it off.

13

Liv turned over in the bed and watched Dean’s still-sleeping form. It was a rare pleasure she was afforded. Normally, she was used to seeing him wide awake long before her, fully caffeinated and already working his way through his to-do list.

But here, his body seemed to have finally given out, and he was determined to enjoy the holiday. She forgot about the rare pleasure of just relaxing and revelling in each other’s company without any sense of obligations to anyone else.

She leaned forward, and unable to resist temptation, she dropped a gentle kiss on his forehead, hoping that the touch would not be enough to wake him up.

She reeled back on the bed, enjoying the crisp sheets and the sense of paradise. Maybe, I can unwind.

Aside from staying out of the way of the other group, she didn’t have any other plans that day. She’d decided to chalk the incident with the stray shot down to a coincidence, feeling no good would come from chasing it down any further. So instead, she just wanted to enjoy the time together. Briggs was sat on the end of the bed, clearly awake but still resting.

Finally, Dean shifted in the bed, nudging closer to Liv and wrapping an arm around her, pulling her into him. Slowly, his eyes opened up, and as he gazed upon her, his mouth broke into a wide smile as though he were looking at her for the first time. “Morning, beautiful,” he growled, leaning in and giving her a lustful kiss on the lips.

“You know,” she suggested coyly, her fingers clasping around his hand. “We could just stay here all day, take advantage of the bed.”

“God, you know how to tempt me, woman, you know that?” he whispered. “I could do with a bit of exploring, actually.” Despite the close space between them, he was still able to pounce on her.

* * *

After a morning tryst, they’d shared a bath together, the tub so big that Dean had joked that he could do laps in it.

They planned to set out after breakfast for a morning hike and enjoy the scenery with Briggs.

They’d been told by Henry to leave them the living room for the morning, and a glimpse inside revealed a row of chairs brought together and a projector screen being brought up. Despite their natural curiosity, they decided not to look any further, feeling that they’d be better off without probing.

For the next few days, I want to make my world as small as possible, Liv thought to herself. Just me, Dean, and Briggs.

They were just about to exit through the front door with Briggs when Henry walked into the hallway. It was a few seconds before they realised that he was heading towards them.

“Anything we can help you with?” Liv asked wearily, conscious that they weren’t on the best of terms.

“Yes, actually, you can,” he said. “I wondered if you could keep on the lookout for someone. One of my employees has gone AWOL?”

“AWOL?” Dean repeated.

“Missing,” the man clarified. “She’s not in her room; she’s not come down for breakfast. Nobody has seen her this morning.”

“Maybe she’s headed out for a bit of exercise,” Liv suggested.

“You’re probably right,” he said, trying to reassure himself as much as them. “But if you could keep an eye out for her, I’d really appreciate it.”

“Sure, we can do that,” Liv replied, thinking they probably didn’t need to extend that much effort.

Henry brought up a picture of the missing woman and showed Liv.

She was unable to keep the shock from her face.

“What is it, Liv?” Dean asked.

“I was speaking to her last night.”

14

“You saw her last night?” Henry asked, his voice suddenly full of hope.

“Yes, I came down in the middle of the night, and we chatted for a while,” Liv explained. “She seemed nice.” That was a bit charitable. She’d barely seen enough of the woman to make a judgment on her character.

“And how did she come across to you?” Henry asked with a sense of urgency.

“She seemed all right, maybe a little homesick,” Liv muttered, trying to dissect a few minutes of conversation.

“Did she give any indication that she was going to do anything like this?” Henry queried, sounding more and more impatient.

“I’m sure she’s going to be okay,” Dean noted, feeling the need to step in and put a stop to the man’s intensity.

“Well, I need her back here within the hour,” Henry demanded.

So that’s it. He’s less concerned for her wellbeing and more what she can give him.

“Why do you need her back here so urgently?” Liv asked.

“I’ve got a big company meeting that I can’t afford for anyone to miss,” Henry insisted, angry. “And before ask, no, she can’t catch up and read any notes. I need her presenting alongside me. Otherwise, the whole thing is a wasted journey.”

“What’s her name?” Liv asked.

“Stacey Moore,” he explained. “She’s the Deputy Director of Build-It-Up. And normally, one of the most reliable people I’ve ever worked with.”

Liv’s eyes widened a little, thinking back to her conversation with Stacey and all the signs of struggling with work. Then again, having to deal with this knobhead on a daily basis, no wonder she’s feeling homesick.

“I’m sure you can push it back to later in the day,” she suggested. “It’s not exactly a life or death situation.”

“You’d be surprised,” Henry responded. “Look, if you see her, just let her know she needs to be back here ASAP, or better yet, drag her back, kicking and screaming if you have to. Either works for me.”

“We’ll look into it,” Liv said, turning away in disgust and heading out the door.

“I’ll bet he’s one of those slave drivers,” Dean suggested. “At that rate, it’s no wonder there was all that arguing next door with him breathing down their necks.”

They walked down the pathway, heading out towards some of the greenery, taking in the sights and committing them to memory. As she walked, she could feel the tension slowly easing out of her body. God, I didn’t realise how much I needed this.

“Can you ever see yourself living in a place like this?” Dean asked.

“The house, definitely not,” she mused. “But the area? Maybe.”

“I suppose you could say that you’re less likely to get major crime rates out here,” he suggested, throwing a stick for Briggs to take off after.

“You trying to sell me on the idea?” she asked.

“Well, it’s just food for thought,” he insisted. “I know you’ve got your family there…”

“Never mind that; we’ve got a whole life there,” Liv explained. “I know I complain about it enough times, but I’d need a damn good reason to leave it all behind.”

Up ahead, they could see someone walking along the field. Liv wondered if she’d seen them from the house. It had to be. There was no one else out there.

“I was thinking that later on, we could take a run into town, get some food for tonight,” she suggested.

“Yeah, shouldn’t be too many miles to the nearest town,” Dean replied. “I think I know the route.” He thought about the conversation they’d had with Henry just before leaving. “Do you think Stacey’s going to turn up?”

“I think he’s one of those bosses who blows a tantrum if somebody mixes up his coffee order,” Liv mused. “I’m sure someone will find her and the whole thing will be forgotten.”

Suddenly, a gunshot broke out across the air.

15

“What the hell was that?” Dean asked, looking around.

They whipped around, trying to find the source of the sound. A few seconds of tranquil silence passed, followed by a nearby scream. Startled, Briggs sprinted off in the direction of the noise.

“No, Briggs, for God’s sake,” Dean muttered, taking off after the dog, Liv not far behind. “Wonder what’s got everyone so worked up?”

As they ran after the dog, they could see several people starting to convene on the same area, coming to the edge of a tree where a small crowd had gathered.

Oh, come on, Liv groaned internally. Am I going to get any peace from all this?

Briggs was pushing his way through the crowd to get to the front. Dean managed to restrain the dog while Liv moved forward. “Let me through! I’m a police officer!” she shouted, wishing she hadn’t left her ID card behind.

When she finally got to the front, she stopped dead in her tracks.

She’d only met Stacey Moore once, but it was unmistakably her. She was lying on the ground, dressed in walking gear, an exit wound visible in the back of her head, leaving a trail of blood and brain matter behind it. Liv felt a sense of sorrow as she remembered Stacey talking about her daughter, how she hoped to spend more time with her and was going to take her on holiday. And now none of that is going to happen.

Perched at an awkward angle on the woman’s body was an antique hunting rifle, the trigger just out of reach of her hand.

Liv looked around at some of the group members, who would all know the woman personally. Two of them burst into tears. Many were stood there in shock.

Liv’s initial instincts were to jump into detective mode… but then she remembered she was far away from the likes of Sam and Archie and anyone else who might be able to assist them.

Dean clearly had the same idea, as he was busy trying to call the police. After a few seconds, he came back with, “No signal. Can’t get through to anyone.”

Worst fucking time to visit the countryside.

She knelt down next to the woman whose eyes were wide open. She tried to understand the emotion that was now forever frozen on her face. Fear? Despair? “Did anyone see what happened?” Liv asked, turning to the crowd.

There were a few mumbles along with a few shaking heads. “Shit.” Realising that she would have to step in and fulfil everyone’s role, she commanded, “Okay, I’m going to need everyone to step back. I’m a police officer, so please give us space.”

She was reluctant to touch anything that could be used as evidence. The first thing she wanted to secure was the gun. “Does anyone have any gloves on them?”

“It’s the middle of May,” one of them protested unhelpfully.

“Well, find something that we can use,” Liv instructed, losing her patience. “A woman has died, and we need to secure the scene.”

One woman called out, “I’ll go back and see what I can find.” She took off back to the house while Liv looked around for any signs, footprints, anything to indicate the presence of another person who was with Stacey at the time of her death. But given the way people had stampeded over to the body at the first sign of trouble, it was going to be difficult to work out.

“She could have killed herself,” one man suggested matter-of-factly. “Just look at the way the gun is positioned.”

Indeed, it looked as though Stacey had positioned the barrel underneath her chin before pulling the trigger.

But Liv knew better than to judge the first impression of a crime scene.

All thoughts of a peaceful holiday were blown away—literally—as she was now focusing on what happened to the woman lying before her while realising that if it wasn’t suicide, she and Dean were sharing a house with a potential murderer.

16

As Liv’s mind raced, she studied the reactions of the people around her, trying to see if any flickering emotions portrayed signs of guilt.

Dean came over, gripping his phone in frustration. “I’m really sorry, Liv, I can’t get through to anyone.”

“So, we’re basically on our own,” Liv acknowledged bitterly. She looked down at Stacey, thinking about her family. “We might need to get the body back to the house…”

“Liv, shouldn’t we leave this to forensics?” Dean asked.

“Do you see anyone tearing down the pathway?” Liv asked. “We can’t leave her out here.” She was concerned, but didn’t say it, about the possible wildlife, and didn’t want to leave the poor woman’s body to the mercy of the foxes and the badgers.

Dean reluctantly conceded the point, torn between restraining his dog and slipping into inspector mode. “So, what do you suggest we do?”

Liv’s mind was racing, trying to think of a possible solution. “I want everyone headed back to the house.” When they all hesitated—clearly still caught up in the spectacle—she snapped, “NOW!”

They instantly cleared out of the area, heading back up the footpath until only Liv, Dean, and Briggs remained. Briggs made several attempts at sniffing at the body, only to be held back by Dean. “So, what are your thoughts? Do you think she killed herself?”

“I’m having a hard time seeing it like that,” she replied. “I spoke to her last night, and she seemed a little morose, but there was nothing to indicate that she was going to take her own life.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Not trying to doubt you or anything, but sometimes, people do a damn good job of hiding what they are going to do before they actually do it.”

“Dean, she was talking about booking a holiday with her daughter,” Liv insisted. “Would she really talk about something in the near future if she were planning to kill herself? And even if she did commit suicide, why that particular method?”

“Because it was quick,” Dean suggested. “You heard the CEO say there was some big thing that she was supposed to be a part of. Maybe the pressure got to be too much for her.”

It was certainly a possibility, but Liv didn’t want to jump to conclusions without any evidence.

“Where would she even get the gun?” Liv asked, and as soon as she said the last two words, her mind started whirring. She thought back to the events of yesterday and her own incident.

“Wait here,” she told Briggs and sped off down the footpath to find the spot where she’d previously been shot at, feeling more and more like it couldn’t be an accident.

She started looking around the area with scrutinising eyes.

She looked at the tree that was missing fragments of bark and then looked at the bullet embedded in the tree. She had a look around the area to see if she could see a casing. She soon had to admit to herself that if the shooter had been far away, she’d be spending an eternity trying to find the casing. Still, the point remained.

She made her way back to the spot where Dean and Briggs were waiting with the body. “What did you find?” Dean asked.

“I’m just wondering whether the weapon that killed Stacey was the weapon that was used against me,” she suggested.

Dean nodded at this. “Can’t see there being many guns like that around the house.”

“But it does raise the possibility that Stacey’s death wasn’t a suicide. That she was in fact murdered. So, whoever was firing at me could have later killed Stacey.”

17

There’d been a lot of towing and froing in the next few hours. After getting Briggs back to their room and locking him inside to keep him out of the way, Olivia and Dean turned their attention to the rest of the guests. The pair had made a silent agreement that if they couldn’t get hold of the police soon, they’d have to bring the body inside. It wasn’t the best situation, but it was the only one they could think of.

“Okay, everyone,” Liv said once they were gathered in attendance. “As I’m sure you’re all aware, Stacey Moore was found dead an hour ago from a gunshot wound to the head.”

Henry was stood at the back of the room, looking like his whole world was crashing down on him. But Liv suspected that this was less because of the loss of a colleague and more for the consequences to his company.

“So, we are trying to paint a picture of exactly what happened out there today,” she illustrated. Suddenly, a man’s hand shot up. He looked like he should have retired a decade ago and probably felt like he should have given the permanent scowl on his face. “Yes?”

“Sorry, but isn’t it meant to be an open-and-shut case?” he asked, playing up the contrariness. “The woman clearly killed herself. What’s more is there to say?”

“We’re just trying to understand the facts as they stand,” Dean retorted, refusing to back down. “Now, you will all know Stacey better than anyone. In the last few weeks, was there anything to indicate that she might be feeling suicidal?”

The group looked amongst one another, and Liv was concerned that if one or more of them was the killer, then they would have had enough time to get their stories straight.

“She seemed a little withdrawn,” one man said. “But then again, she was used to being closed off. She was often at her most animated when she was going through a task.”

Liv looked over to Henry, who was struggling at the back of the room, and he grunted in acknowledgement.

“We need to create a timeline of Stacey’s movements,” Dean said. “So, when did anyone last see her?”

“I saw her leave the house at half-seven,” a man volunteered.

“Okay, so did anyone see her after that?” Dean queried.

The silence that followed gave it away.

Liv sighed, trying to think about how to play this. “I need to find out a bit more about the trip that you had been taking part in and the purpose for it.”

“That’s confidential information,” Henry insisted, walking to the front of the room and addressing the group directly. “If anyone here dares divulge any information outside the company, I swear to God, I will be filing charges against you all.” He looked to the detectives with an attempt at smugness. “And if you really are going to do your jobs, then you’ll have no choice but to follow through.”

Liv gritted her teeth, trying to measure her response.

“Whatever contract you have strongarmed them into signing,” she said calmly and clearly. “I think the need to cooperate with a police investigation supersedes any other obligations. As police officers, we are entitled to ask a few questions. And even without that, a woman has been found dead. One of your colleagues. Surely, you all want to find out what happened to her?”

The group looked torn between the detectives and their manager.

“Fine,” Henry said. “I will talk to you, but I want to do it in private…” He looked to the group. “Away from prying eyes.”

“Your cooperation will be much appreciated,” Dean noted.

As they walked into another room, Liv looked around at the group, getting the impression that some of them didn’t want their colleague’s death solved. In fact, she imagined a lot of them would be happier if the truth didn’t come to light.

18

With all this cloak and dagger going on, whatever secret this company is keeping had better be fucking worth it.

Henry sat in an antique armchair lined with red leather, leaving Liv wondering whether this was because of a childish need to have the best chair in the room or if he wanted to show off his sign of authority.

“Just to be clear, I don’t want this ending up in any blog written up by some knobhead in his boxers,” Henry insisted, unable to relax.

“Do we look like the types to go broadcasting everything to the world?” Liv asked. “We just want all the pieces before we can decide if they fit into any puzzle. And if somebody did want Stacey dead, why did they choose this getaway to do it?”

Henry sighed, realising that they were not going to let this go.

“Built-It-Up has been picking up steam for some time. We started off as a small-to-medium enterprise, and now we’re a major name in the visual graphics community… and we’ve taken on a few competitors. Most of them are small fry, nothing compared to us, but there are some people who see us as a threat—which is actually quite flattering if you think about it.”

Depends on how far someone wants to take the threat.

“Now, some companies have got smart. They figure that rather than try and compete with us, it’s easier to own us,” Henry continued with a sigh. “So, there’s been talk of a buyout.”

Liv nodded slowly, starting to understand the discord in the group. “So, this getaway was less about getting people some R and R and more about deciding where to go from here?”

“The decision was obvious,” Henry spat out. “If we gave up our IP rights at the beginning, before we had the chance to grow it, no one would have heard of us. Not only that, but the moment we sign that deal, we get a one-off payment and then I get to watch somebody else taking my baby into the future.”

“So, I’m assuming there’s been a bit of discord between the members?” Dean asked.

“They just want the massive paycheque,” Henry insisted. “They don’t care about the project we’re building up.”

“Well, surely as the CEO, you have staying power, don’t you?” Liv asked, but she could see how the question rankled the man.

“I only have thirty percent of the voting shares,” he explained. “It’s a huge majority, but one that can be overruled with enough votes.”

Liv nodded slowly, all the facts falling into place. “And I’m guessing Stacey Moore had voting shares too.” As Henry nodded his head, she asked, “What percentage?”

“Same as me, thirty.”

“And which way was she thinking of swinging?” she continued, already having a good idea based on the conversation they’d shared the previous night.

Henry went silent, his eyes drifting around the room, trying to land on anything but the detectives. “If need be, we can always ask members of the group and see what they come up with.”

“She was talking about going along with the buyout,” he finally said. “She said that she’d given it a lot of thought and had given a great deal to the company, but maybe this was the sign that she needed. She said she was going to use the money to take some time out for herself and spend time with her daughter. And if she got enough people on board… then that’d be the end of the company.” He looked like he regretted the words as soon as he finished saying them.

It sounds like we’ve got our motive for murder.

19

Camilla Austin—or Mills to her loved ones—was hovering a cuddly tiger over the playpen for her six-month-old daughter, Annie, making the appropriate noises, only for the infant to break down into tears.

Mills sighed, wondering who had the idea to use a predator as a cuddly animal.

Max had taken Ru out for a burger, so it was just her and little Annie. The baby’s sleeping pattern was still hit or miss, and she was feeling the strain.

The other day, she had plans to meet up with some friends for a coffee morning, but the baby had had an accident just before she left the house. By the time she was done cleaning it up, she was going to be fifteen minutes late, and it hardly seemed worth it.

There was a knock at the door. It was unlike to be Max. He wasn’t going to be back for a while, and he would have just opened the door.

She got up, walked to the door, and smiled in pleasant surprise.

She hadn’t spent much time with Andrew Shaw, but she got the impression that he was a decent, if cheeky, chap. And Liv clearly thought the world of him.

“I’m very surprised to see you around here,” she said warmly.

“Well, Liv sent me around just to see if you needed anything while she was away.”

Mills gave a rueful smile. “Even when she’s away, she’s always looking out for me.” She opened the door so that Andrew could step into the house.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” she asked, taking in the suit and trying to remember what Liv had told her about Andrew being transferred to CID.

“A coffee would be great,” Andrew said, just as the sound of Annie crying came from the living room.

“Really sorry about that,” Mills offered, the drinks forgotten.

“Nah, it’s all right,” he responded, not being put off in the slightest by the infant. “She’s adorable,” he cooed, kneeling down to the playpen. “Do you mind if I…”

“By all means,” Annie said, deciding to busy herself in the kitchen.

By the time she got back, the sound of crying had died down, and Annie was gurgling slightly in Andrew’s arms. “You know, if the policing doesn’t work out, you’d make a great nanny.”

The baby wriggled his arms and she tried to put them around Andrew’s body as though trying to get a cuddle.

“She’s wonderful,” Andrew said earnestly.

“You’d make a wonderful father,” Mills suggested.

The DC’s face clouded over, but he kept the smile on his face. “Yeah, it’s a nice thought, but I think I’d need to be in a relationship for that,” he mused. “Me and my girlfriend… we split up a while back.”

Mills’ face softened. “Really sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be,” he said, clearly putting on a brave face. “If I’m honest, I think it was coming for a long time, and I’d rather we just end it on good terms rather than continue pushing each other away.”

“Seems like the mature thing to do,” Mills suggested. She’d heard a lot about Andrew from Liv, and she always got the impression that he was one of the good ones. He appeared to be someone that could always be counted on to do the right thing and had apparently kept Liv steady several times in the past.

“You know, if you ever need any help getting back in the dating pool, I know a few girls who’d happily snap you up,” she offered.

“Appreciate that,” he said, keeping his attention on the baby.

“Actually, there’s something I did want to ask you.” It’d only just popped into her head, but it’d befuddled her for some time. “Why does everyone call you Duracell?”

Andrew’s face went chalk white, and he looked down at the baby. “Err…” he stammered, leaving Mills wondering if it was not meant for the baby’s ears. “Because I always keep a spare set of batteries on me?”

20

“You’ve got to realise how this is going to look to everyone,” Liv said, taking in all the revelations. “You are clearly drawn over the future of the company—looks like an even split—and then she dies.”

Henry’s eyes widened at the accusation. “Wait a minute, I know you have to be a little cutthroat in business, but I’m not that ruthless!”

They paused, not entirely convinced.

“If I really wanted her dead, why would I go to the trouble of booking a house for everyone and try and find the diplomatic route out of this?” he asked, and the detectives had to silently concede the point.

“Back in a minute,” Dean concluded as they got up and left the room, going into the corridor. “So, what are your thoughts?”

“I’m going to insist that you’re a lot more vigilant when it comes to the bookings,” Liv mused sarcastically before turning serious again. “But actually, I’m having a hard time seeing him as the killer.”

“He’s got means, motive, and opportunity,” Dean declared, ticking them off his hand. “He’s had access to a conspicuous weapon on the estate, he risks losing out on the company he’s been building up, and also, he could have got her on her own later on.”

“But if he wanted her dead, why not do it back in their original location, where it’s a lot easier for him to cover it all up?”

“It could be someone on the estate,” Dean suggested. “Unless it actually was suicide.” He paused, wanting to get something off his chest but clearly conscious of Liv’s reaction.

“If you’ve got something to say, I’d rather you ripped the plaster off,” Liv insisted.

“It’s possible that she could have killed herself.” He braced himself for the expected eyeroll.

“She had a daughter to go home to,” Liv said emphatically, remembering how Stacey referred to her daughter as though she was the only bright light in her world. “I may have only known her for a few minutes, but she didn’t seem despondent enough to leave that girl without a mother growing up.”

“People can surprise you,” he mused, drawing on years of police experience.

“Well, one way to find out is to head to her room and see if there’s anything that tells us a bit more about who Stacey Moore was.” She gestured a thumb back to the main room where all the guests were waiting. “I’d ask that lot, but I wouldn’t put it past them to be flexible with the truth.”

“I know I’m probably going to get it in the neck for suggesting it, but… do you not think it might be an idea to leave it to the local police?” She opened her mouth to protest his priorities. “I’m not talking about doing it just so we can enjoy our holiday. Even I have to admit that a dead body would kill any attempt at holiday romance. But we can’t do this ourselves. We need forensics, we need a team of officers… hell, we don’t even have an office. There is nothing here that we can use.”

“Point taken,” she responded, keeping her own disappointment at the loss of their time together quiet. “You want to give them another try?”

Dean took out the phone and dialled it again. There was a pause, and Dean gave a frown that Liv recognised all too well from coming up against a dial tone.

“Still nothing,” he said, taking the phone down.

As much as Liv might have wanted to play detective, she knew they both needed resources. “Well, I say that we need to have a few more enquiries around here and then we need to head into town and get someone back to the house.”

“And the body?” Liv asked, thinking about Stacey being left out in the elements, denied any kind of dignity.

“I say we get it back into the house,” he suggested. “Normally, I would be content to leave the body out there until forensics arrive. But we need to make sure the corpse is preserved for evidence.”

21

Clara kissed Diana goodbye at the entrance to the police station and disappeared inside, prepared to set herself up for the day.

Even though Diana was still making the journey into work again, she couldn’t help feeling like the PC was going through the motions, that she was still troubled by the threats that’d been made against her and Clara to the point that she’d even considered moving away from Newquay. At the time, Clara had dismissed it as paranoia. But more and more, as the corruption case dragged on, she found herself wondering whether getting themselves to safety might be the right move.

She wasn’t sure how she could occupy herself for the day as there were no major cases to work. She was used to Liv coming into her workplace and bombarding her with assignments. It didn’t matter how strenuous the task, she was always able to get the job done. But with Liv away, she was worried that she had little more to do than twiddle her thumbs.

“Clara!” Collins called out as he caught her just as she was about to enter the room.

“Everything all right, sir?” she asked, noticing that he looked out of breath and paler than usual. She considered asking him what he’d been doing to get him so out of breath.

“I was wondered if you could do me a favour?” he asked, taking out a sheet of paper and handing it to her. “I was wondering if you could go through these names for me.”

She scanned through the names that’d been haphazardly scribbled down. She recognised some of them. “Sir, is this…”

“Trust me, I hope it isn’t,” Collins said, opening the door to Clara’s workspace and ushering her inside, looking up and down the corridor to make sure no one else was in earshot.

Once they were sealed away from the rest of the world, Clara asked, “These officers…”

“I need you to look over their histories throughout the previous years, the kind of cases they worked, and if any of them had any dealings over in Newquay,” Collins instructed. He leaned in close, still conscious of being heard by anyone. “I trust I can count on your discretion.”

Clara’s eyes widened. “Sir, are you sure…”

“I would prefer to keep this between us,” he insisted. “I don’t want this information to risk falling into the wrong hands.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Clara replied, firing up the computer and starting to run through the names.

“You don’t mind if I have a look with you, do you?” Collins asked, taking a spare chair before the technician could answer.

“No problem at all,” Clara said, keeping her back to the screen, not noticing Collins practically falling into the chair.

She worked through the first name and found nothing that could be incriminating.

“Sir, I don’t want to sound all pessimistic, but if the top brass are in any way connected to this, we may not see much in the way of evidence. I mean, they would know how to beat the system better than any copper.”

“Believe me, I’m well aware of that,” Collins answered, breathing heavily, prompting Clara to turn around and look at him.

“Sir, are you all right?”

“I’ll be fine,” he answered with a dismissive handwave. “Just a little bit under the weather. Nothing you need to concern yourself with.” He paused, wiping sweat from his forehead. “You wouldn’t mind getting us some water would you?”

Clara initially wondered why he couldn’t get it himself, but she was beginning to think that if he stood up, he’d fall back down again.

Nodding slowly, she got up from her seat and left the room, wondering what was going on with the superintendent.

22

The pair decided to head to Stacey’s room. A few enquiries among the team revealed that Stacey had been given her own room, a privilege befitting a leading figure in the company.

But when they got there, they stopped in their tracks.

They could hear the sound of rummaging coming from inside the room.

Dean looked to Liv, the two so in sync that the same thought crossed both their minds. Is the killer back to recover any evidence?

Liv kept her hand on the door handle, the pair ready to pounce if necessary…

She threw the door open, and the pair hurled themselves into the room. “POLICE!”

The drawers had been pulled out and overturned. A suitcase had been emptied onto the bed, and rifling through it was a young man with spiky blonde hair and a shirt with rolled-up sleeves.

He took one look at the officers, all three frozen in suspense, and then he tried to bolt.

Dean slammed his full body weight into him, knocking him to the ground. He then proceeded to haul the young man to his feet and seated him on the bed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he snarled. “I’m innocent, you idiot!”

“Yes, because rummaging through the victim’s personal belongings makes you look like an angel,” Liv muttered sarcastically. “What’s your name?” When the young man didn’t offer anything, she added, “You know we can just ask your colleagues, right?”

“Robin,” he finally muttered, slumping onto the bed in defeat.

“So, what are you doing going through Ms Moore’s belongings?” Dean asked, surveying the scene.

“I was trying to find something,” he mumbled, unable to meet the detective’s eyes.

“Liv, go and find Henry, see if he knows anything,” Dean instructed and she left the room, leaving the two men alone. “I suggest you start talking.”

“I didn’t kill her if that’s what you’re thinking,” Robin exclaimed.

“So, what is your relationship with her?” Dean asked, wondering if he’d hit the nail on the head with specific words.

But the young man refused to volunteer any more information. Dean looked him up and down, trying to determine whether he could not only kill someone but have the smarts to make it look like a suicide.

“Listen,” Dean said, trying a more tactical approach. “If you didn’t have anything to do with Stacey’s death, especially if you know anything about who did, then you need to volunteer that information to us now. Because right now, we don’t have any other suspects.”

Robin looked at the inspector, clearly trying to size up whether to confide in the man.

Then Liv reappeared with Henry. He laid one eye on Robin, and his face twisted into a grimace. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“We found him going through Stacey’s belongings,” Liv explained.

But Henry’s grimace turned into surprise. “So, it’s not enough for you to stab me in the back, you have to do the same to Stacey?”

The specific phrasing caught Liv off guard. “How do you mean?”

“Robin’s our top programmer,” Henry explained. “He’s been with us from the beginning. He built up many of the graphics that we use today. He also holds nineteen percent worth of shares in the company.”

Liv’s eyes widened, feeling like the stakes were much higher.

“I recruited him straight out of college,” Henry explained, turning his attention to Robin. “I gave you a career. Hell, I even gave you a manhood, and yet you were still going to side with her in the buyout.”

Robin looked down guiltily, and with the look Henry was giving his former protege, they wondered if the CEO was going to throw himself at the younger man.

Dean looked down at Robin, stepping back, but still blocking his exit. “I think you’ve got some explaining to do.”

23

“Just so we’re absolutely clear,” Robin began. “I had no intention of screwing you over.” He was looking at Henry directly. “It wasn’t about being ungrateful or going against what you want.”

“What I don’t get is that you loved this job,” Henry stated, and his words sounded less like an employer who was struggling to control his employees, and more like a man who was betrayed by someone he saw as a close friend. “I made sure you were given opportunities and encouraged you to excel. Hell, I even gave you voting shares in the company. You know how many people I’ve extended that offer to? It worked out best for both of us, and you were willing to throw it all away. Why? What was she offering you that was so great that you’d practically torpedo your own career?”

Henry spoke with such intensity that Liv and Dean were tempted to leave him to do all the questioning.

“It wasn’t about what she could do for me. It was what she was threatening to take away,” Robin finally said. “She… she had something on me.”

“Like what?” Liv asked, already working out that whatever it was, it wasn’t going to be legal.

Robin sighed, appearing as if his whole life was at an end. He was clearly weighing up whether it was better for them to think of him as a murderer or… whatever he was supposed to have done.

“Back when I was in college… I was involved in a hit-and-run,” he explained, closing his eyes. “It was a stupid, drunken accident, and believe me, I regret it every day.” Catching their disapproving looks, he said, “Just to be clear, nobody died. The guy is still doing all right. So, I just kept on moving forward with my life. Nobody else found out.”

“But Stacey found out, didn’t she?” Liv asked, glad that she never brought into the idea of suicide.

“She said that she’d done a bit of digging into my past, looked at the incident and asked the right questions to the right people. She said that she had enough on me to ruin my life if I didn’t play ball with her.”

“So, she asked you to blow up the company in exchange for keeping quiet?” Henry asked, giving the indication that he’d rather Robin had chosen to fall on his own sword.

“What would you have had me do? Are you honestly telling me if you were in my position, you wouldn’t have done the same thing?” Henry looked away as Robin spoke.

“So, you were in here doing what exactly?” Dean asked. “Trying to get rid of evidence?”

“I was trying to find out where she kept it,” Robin explained. “I knew Stacey. She would have made sure it was there at all times. She liked to keep her bargaining chips close to her chest. And I wanted to find it in case people started looking at me as the suspect.”

“How perceptive of you,” Liv said dryly. He was definitely thinking very clearly for an innocent man.

“And what were you going to do once you found this evidence?” Henry asked.

“I was just going to avoid going through with the vote,” Robin said, hoping to appease his boss.

“So where were you between 7 am and 8 o’clock this morning?” Liv asked.

“You’re asking me where I was when Stacey died?” he asked, inhaling deeply. “I was here, catching up on some kip before the meeting.”

“So, there’s no one who can verify where you were during those hours?” Liv asked, very familiar with the ‘home alone’ alibi.

“Yes, that’s right,” Robin replied. “Look, I told you about something I’ve kept quiet about for nearly ten years. Something that could land me in a shitload of trouble. Why do you think I would do that?”

Dean retorted, “Because being arrested for a historical hit-and-run is a lot easier than being arrested for murder.”

24

“So, you were his employer, and you recruited him straight out of college. Do you think he could have done it?” Dean asked once they were walking back towards the kitchen.

“I recruited him myself,” Henry announced, still walking and talking even as he faced away from the detectives. “He was my protege. And the idea that he could have killed anyone… I just can’t see it.”

They were surprised at the show of loyalty from a man who’d proved himself to be cutthroat, but Liv suspected that loyalty was based on Robin’s technical expertise that the company profited from.

“Do you have any idea as to who might have killed Stacey?” Liv queried, determined to nail down a suspect.

“You honestly think I’m going to start pointing the finger at my own people?” Henry asked, halting in his tracks and getting in Liv’s face. “You think I’m stupid enough to hire someone who would commit murder?”

“Well, you hired someone who had previously committed a hit and run,” Dean exclaimed, standing next to him, furious at him invading Liv’s personal space. “And your intimidation tactics might work for your staff, but you try them with my partner, and we’re going to have serious problems.”

Liv tried not to indicate her heart was swooning at the protectiveness.

Henry tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t involve incurring Dean’s wrath, coming up short each time. “I need a fucking drink.”

He turned around and walked on ahead. This time, Liv and Dean made no effort to follow him.

The two stood there in silence, trying to think of how to piece the case together.

“So, where do we go from here?” Liv asked, suddenly feeling tired from the lack of escape from the criminal element.

“I’ve tried calling again, and no luck,” Dean said, holding up his phone so she could see the lack of bars. “So, I suggest that we head out to the town and contact the local police and get them to come back here. They can get a forensic team to look over Stacey Moore’s body. I’m pretty sure rigor mortis would have already started settling in.”

“So, we fire up the car, head into town, and get the local police to take over,” Liv suggested, nodding her head in approval of the plan. “And what about us?”

“We can get Briggs, go to a hotel, and try to have some semblance of normality over the next few days,” he said, suddenly tired from the whole debacle.

“You think they’ll have any better luck solving the case?” Liv asked.

“Well, I’d rather have an experienced team doing the job than two coppers on holiday,” he replied bluntly. “So, you up for a drive into town?”

“You don’t think anyone here is going to try and do a runner?” she asked as they walked out of the house towards the car.

“We’ve got the names of the attendees, and we can just pass those on to the police,” Dean reasoned, seemingly having an answer for everything.

They approached the car and buckled up, Liv took out her phone. “Maybe I can get a signal once we get on the road,” she suggested. “Save us making a full journey.”

Dean drove the car up the road, preparing to navigate his way off the gravel when he saw another car driving up ahead.

“What’s this?” Dean asked, stopping behind the car. “Looks like someone’s trying to get away.”

Liv squinted and tried to get a glimpse of the figure in the front seat. And then her eyes drifted beyond the car to see that there seemed to be something blocking the pathway. A log or something. What the f—

Then, it all happened so quickly.

Two people on either side of the cars approached, all wearing balaclavas. Liv had just enough time to see the guns before they unleashed a hail of bullets into both cars.

25

Dean instantly reached over and pulled Liv down and out of the line of fire. They could feel the bullets impacting against the metalwork, shattering the windows as shards of glass sprinkled over them.

Then, the gunfire was over as quickly as it began. “Stay down,” Dean whispered while daring himself to lean up ever so slightly to get a glimpse of what was happening outside.

The gunmen were still standing by the first car looking inside. Suddenly, the car door was pushed open and the driver stumbled out.

Dean was shocked to see it was Robin. He stumbled out of the car, his shirt all red, his hand clutching to plug a gushing wound on his neck. He only managed a few steps before one of them fired off three more shots into his chest, causing him to collapse to the ground in a heap.

Dean wanted to rush over and help him, but it was clear there was nothing more they could do. He stuck the car into reverse and backed down the path, glancing out the rear of the car to make sure that they weren’t going to crash into anything.

Once they’d put enough distance between them and whatever insanity had just happened up ahead, Liv and Dean looked out through the shattered window to see if the gunmen were pursuing them. Instead, the assailants were standing next to Robin’s prone body. Liv couldn’t make out their features, but she could tell they were watching her, daring her to make a move.

As soon as they were back in the large expansive driveway, the numbness threatened to overwhelm Liv. It was only then that she became aware of the ringing in her ears.

Her trembling fingers fumbled at the car door, and she spilled out onto the gravel, feeling like she was about to collapse.

Dean rushed out of the car and over to her side. “It’s all right,” he insisted, trying to fight off any shock he might be feeling himself. “I’m here. I’ve got you.” Ever so gently, he tried to help her to her feet.

Liv allowed herself to be held and found solace in his arms, trying to push back the shock. There was a flurry of footsteps, and some of the guests came running out of the house.

“Get inside now!” Dean commanded, looking back in the direction of the road.

He could make out the faint outlines of the gunmen still standing by the car, reduced to little black dots. He held his breath, trying to gauge whether they were starting to head towards the house.

But instead, they seemed to be moving.

Henry looked at Olivia. “Here, let me help her,” he offered, reaching down.

“I’ll get her,” Dean insisted, hauling Liv to her feet. “You just get everybody into the living room. And make sure that nobody comes out. You don’t let in anybody that isn’t me or her.”

Henry nodded and turned to his group. “Okay, everyone, I want you all inside, straight away.”

By the time they’d made it to the front door, the shock had worn off for Liv, and she felt more and more like her old self again.

“They actually killed him,” she muttered as they made their way into the kitchen and she sat down at the table, looking at her shaking hands. Dean handed her a glass of water, which she downed in one.

“We’ve got to try and get people out of here,” she exclaimed, haunted by the image of Robin’s bullet-ridden body. “If those gunmen start coming in here, we’re going to have a bloodbath on our hands.”

“Actually, Liv, I don’t think that’s the problem,” Dean noted, thinking back to the stance. “They had a perfect chance to kill us then and there. If they wanted to, they could have. And if they really wanted us all dead, they could be storming the place right now. I think they’re trying to keep us in the house.”

“But why?” Liv asked, but Dean was unable to answer.

26

Detective Sergeant Nikki Harding made her way through the streets of Derby, feeling completely at ease with her surroundings.

When she’d first moved to Derby, it was all about trying to find a way of dealing with the trauma of losing her husband and damn near losing her daughter. She figured that the time away would be exactly what she needed to work through the trauma.

There’d been a few teething problems in the first few months, and they’d certainly been eventful. And there were times when going to Derby had felt like the biggest mistake she’d ever made. But now she felt that Derby was the only way forward, and she had built up a good life for herself and her daughter. She felt a strong sense of loyalty towards her Derby team, as she called them. They’d supported her and helped her to grow.

And then the decision had come regarding her transfer.

She missed a lot of things about Newquay. She missed the beautiful beaches, the haunts that she and her friends frequented, the company that Superintendent Collins provided… and, of course, the banter that Nikki had enjoyed with her superior officer, Detective Olivia Austin. When the two women had first started working together, they couldn’t stand each other and were convinced that their partnership would end with one dead and the other in police custody.

But over time, the two women had grown to respect each other and had provided plenty of emotional support when necessary. When Nikki began working with her new DI, her first thought was that they were never going to match up to Liv.

She could have gone back to Newquay if she felt so inclined. She’d done plenty of healing and was confident that she could face the memories of her husband without breaking down. But Derby had offered new beginnings for her, and she felt that staying was too big an opportunity to pass up. And so, even though it had been with a heavy heart, she’d put in the request to make her transfer permanent. She’d assured the team she’d still be there if she needed them, but she felt that that part of her life was done and there was no point in trying to reach for something that wasn’t there anymore.

At the moment, she was enjoying some much-needed annual leave. Her daughter had been left with a babysitter, so she had a lot of free time to herself.

She was stopping by the Greggs to get a baguette when the phone rang. She’d told her team that there was a strict policy on calling her. Holiday time was ‘Nikki time’ as far as she was concerned.

Nikki was surprised to see Collins’ name on the caller ID. When she’d first moved to Newquay, their relationship had been frosty, and though they’d since patched up their differences, Nikki wondered if they would ever get back to the same level of comfort with each other.

“Steven?” she asked. Even though they were no longer seeing each other, she couldn’t stop herself from saying his name the same way; breathless with a hint of anticipation.

“Hi, Nikki, I’m really glad I caught you,” he declared over the phone. There was something different about his voice. It was as though something was missing.

“Is everything okay?” Nikki asked, full of concern.

“Are you busy with anything?” he asked, and she wondered if he’d memorised the times of the year when she was most likely to be off work.

“Just enjoying not having the weight of the world on my shoulders,” she said as she retrieved her lunch.

“Well, I need your help,” he declared in a deathly serious tone.

“What with?” she asked, thinking it might mean firing up the police database.

“How soon can you get over to Newquay?”

She was about to ask if that was a joke, but the urgency in his voice told her it was no laughing matter. “Steven, what’s going on?”

“Things are kicking off, and I’m in short supply of people I can trust. Please, Nikki.”

Nikki held the phone away from her ear, but she could feel the past beckoning to her. She did a quite calculation of how much time she could take off before she said, “Give me a day or two.”

27

Once Liv and Dean had sufficiently recovered from the shock of the attack on Robin, they made their way into the living room where all of the guests were sitting in attendance. All were clearly rattled by the gunfire. Unless they’ve mastered the art of being in two places at once, I think I can cross them off the list.

“Would someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?” Henry demanded irately. He looked back at his gathering of concerned employees. “We managed to get everyone in here except for Robin. Has anyone seen him?”

Dean gulped at the namedrop.

“We tried to leave to go and find help,” Dean explained calmly. “But we were attacked on the road out of the estate…” He paused, trying to find the right words. “Robin was already on his way out. But we were ambushed, and he was shot and killed.”

There was an audible silence in the room as people digested the revelation. “You’ve got to be joking,” one of them muttered.

One person burst into tears and started wailing.

Henry collapsed into a heap, emotionally drained. “Why… why was he out there?”

“Maybe he thought that we were going to accuse him of killing Stacey Moore,” Liv suggested, having fully recovered. “So, he decided to get out of here before we arrested him. And that’s when it happened.”

“So, does this exonerate him?” Henry asked, desperate for his protege to be innocent. Whatever he thought of the young man in his last moments, it was clear that a part of Henry had died along with Robin.

“Well, it’s looking likely that he was killed by the same person who killed Stacey,” Dean explained, sitting down in one of the chairs.

“Why don’t we just get up and leave?” one of the guests asked. “Get a car and take off? Go to the police. They can sort it.”

“We can’t,” Liv snapped, feeling triggered by the all-too-recent events. “They’ve blocked off the pathway. Even if we did get out there, we’ve still got the issue of them stalking around the land. Considering how quickly they were able to get to the main road. I wouldn’t put it past them to be patrolling the land to make sure nobody gets out.”

“But why would anybody do this?” an older woman screeched. “We’re only here to discuss a bloody buyout! Why do they need to take it this far?”

“That’s a very good point,” Liv agreed. “And that’s exactly what we intend to find out. Now, it looks like we are stuck here for the foreseeable future, so the first thing we need to do is keep calm.”

“Keep calm!?” Henry exclaimed. “There’s a bunch of psychos with guns out there! They’ve already killed two of my staff! For all we know, they could be about to storm in here and bump us all off! How the fuck are we supposed to keep calm?”

“The detectives are right,” Becky Edwards spoke up softly, trying to keep calm. “We need to be reasonable and call on our inner peace—”

“Oh, will you shut the fuck up!?” Henry demanded. “You’re not going to get us through this by getting us to stare into fucking crystals!”

Becky went quiet, looking a little stung by the comment.

“We do actually need to keep it together,” Liv stated. “We’re going to be stuck here for a while…” Then something clicked in her head. “Everyone, I want you to take out your phones and try calling 999.”

The group instantly obeyed, all scrambling for their phones, dialling different numbers. Liv scanned the faces, hopeful that one of those phones could make contact with the outside world.

“Nothing,” one said, and they all nodded in agreement. “Can’t get a signal.”

“Same for me,” Dean agreed.

“But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a signal,” Liv noted. “You should be able to get something up here, especially in a place like this. The only reason you couldn’t get a signal on any phones… would be is if someone was blocking it.”

28

“That sounds a little outlandish,” one of the members suggested.

“One person not getting a signal on their phone, we can put down to a crappy model. But an entire group, and that’s stretching credibility,” Liv noted. She turned to Dean. “When you made the booking, did the homeowners give you any indication that the Wi-Fi was out of commission?”

“Of course not,” Dean answered predictably. “No mention whatsoever. And I find it hard to imagine any holiday home would not offer some kind of connection.”

“So, the only possible explanation is that something is jamming the signal from inside the house,” Liv suggested. “It could be something like a jammer…”

“So, you have no idea what it could be?” someone asked, clearly the contrarian of the group. “That’s not going to get us very far, is it?”

“Well, I would have thought that for a tech company, you lot would have a better idea than us,” Dean snapped back, getting sick and tired of being questioned. “A bit of cooperation wouldn’t go amiss, considering me and my partner are probably your best chance of getting out of here. Now, if you feel that you are capable of getting out of this mess without me or Liv, just say so now, and we’ll leave you to it.”

It wasn’t technically in the manual to use a scare tactic to get through to people, but Dean was so worn down by the events of the past few days, as well as the indignance of some of the guests. And his tactic was clearly working because, predictably, they had no idea what to do themselves and the only thing that seemed to work was following the detectives’ leads.

“Well, in that case, I suggest we all work together,” Liv suggested. “Now, I need everyone to start thinking about suspects. I’m guessing it’s somebody who is targeting the company overall, considering that they’re willing to take the bulk of management hostage all at once. So, I’m giving everyone here the chance to be honest with us. And once we know the truth, we can decide where we can go from there.”

There was a notable pause among the guests, and they couldn’t tell whether that was because they couldn’t think of anyone who’d hate them that much or if it was because they didn’t want to risk saying anything incriminating.

“Well, I think we can rule out anyone in this room,” Henry suggested, trying to put a positive spin on it.

“Believe me, I wish I could feel that optimistic,” Liv noted, aware of how inflammatory her next few words could be. She took a moment to think again before changing her mind. She needed people on her side, being rational. If she voiced the next few words, she wouldn’t need to worry about the shooters coming in and killing them all. They’d take each other out instead. She could only hope that they didn’t come to that conclusion themselves. I need to keep them distracted.

“Right now, I think we need a plan of attack,” she announced. “We can’t contact anyone straight away. But we know that there is some kind of jammer preventing the signal. I’m going to suggest that you lot start looking through each room and leave nothing unturned. DI Lawrence and I are going to head out to recover Stacey’s body and see if we can keep it out of the way of the elements for when forensics arrive.”

“You serious?” Henry protested. “You seen how big this house is?”

“If you’ve got any better suggestions, then please share now,” Liv commanded, and when nobody said anything, she continued, “I suggest you get going. Take it room by room, and search until you’re sure nothing is found. We’ll be back within the hour.”

They both walked out of the room, taking a quick detour back to their own bedroom to make sure that Briggs wasn’t struggling with claustrophobia.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you didn’t take it any further with them,” Dean mused. “You realise they’ll put it together with or without you.”

“That’s what worries me,” Liv noted. “Assuming only a few people knew about the trip, then it’s possible that someone could have passed on the information to whoever’s organised this raid. So, while they may not be our killer, they could have as good as killed us.”

Dean nodded as he considered the challenge they faced.

29

It was coming into the evening, and Liv had to remember that the sun wouldn’t be setting for another hour or two.

She felt exposed moving around the country elements, half-expecting someone else to take a shot at her. I preferred it when I thought I was dealing with poachers who would shoot at anything. She found time slowing down and was listening out for any rustling or unusual sound to indicate that there was somebody else out there looking at them, taking aim at them. They only needed one shot at either her or Dean.

Despite all that they’d endured on the trip, Liv was mostly frustrated that for the first time in a long while, she’d felt like she could finally lower her barriers and enjoy life again, only to have the realisation hit her that rather than the peaceful, tranquil, and romantic getaway she’d been promised, she was essentially alone in the middle of the countryside with a group of backstabbers.

“Do you think they can hear us?” Liv asked in a hushed voice.

“I don’t know,” Dean responded, edging along the footpath. “I can’t see anyone.” He paused, wanting to find the right words. “I think we may actually be safe from them.”

Liv tried not to burst into laughter at the absurdity of the statement. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, no way of getting here, no signal. Everyone in that house is a potential murderer, and that’s assuming they don’t fall back into mob mentality. So how you think we might be safe, I don’t know. You’re going to have to help me out there.”

“Think back to when they shot at you,” Dean explained. “They’d have to be pretty good shots. If they wanted you gone, you wouldn’t be standing here. You know what’s even harder than shooting someone? Literally just missing them.”

“Well, it didn’t work; I’m still here,” she replied, still not getting it.

“And then there was the shooting on our way out,” Dean said. “When they saw Robin, they had no issue with killing him, and yet they didn’t kill us.”

“Are you forgetting the bullet holes in the car?” Liv asked.

“Come on, are you honestly telling me they couldn’t have fired at us as we were driving away?” Dean asked. “They were warning shots. Whoever is behind this, they are obviously after the people in the house, not us. Clearly, they didn’t anticipate anybody else being in the house at the time, so they’re focusing on the people in the group.”

“I wouldn’t go thinking we have a safety net just yet,” Liv commented. “Don’t forget that if we try anything, there’s nothing to stop them from turning on us.”

“I don’t know,” Dean mused. “But maybe we can use that to our advantage.”

They finally came to Stacey’s body, and thankfully, it was completely undisturbed. Even the rifle hadn’t been touched. “Clearly, they don’t feel the need to cover it up,” Liv noted, figuring that forensics probably wouldn’t find any fingerprints.

They unfolded the bed sheet and laid it on the ground. Then Liv took as many pictures on her phone as possible, hoping to capture several angles so that the forensics could do their own analysis. Finally, they carefully lifted the body onto the sheet and wrapped it up, the rifle and all, able to carry up the dead weight with minimal fuss.

As they moved down the footpath, Dean looked around. “There is one thing we could do. We could always make a run for it. We don't know how much range the block has. If we get far enough, maybe we can contact someone and call for help.”

“Believe me, I've had the same thing going through my head,” Liv replied. “But firstly, we don't know how far we have to go before we can call anyone. And I want to make sure that household doesn't descend into a riot. We leave them, God knows what we’ll come back to. And of course, I don’t know how many people they’ve brought into this scheme, so I don’t want to take the risk that they’ll see us coming and ambush us. Then they might not have any problem either burying us in the field or leaving us to the bears.”

“We’re in Lincolnshire, Liv,” Dean muttered as he struggled with the body.

“Okay, to the fucking squirrels, then!” Liv snapped, agitated. “Sorry, I don’t mean to get like this.”

“Listen,” Dean stopped and held her gaze. He’d have taken her in his arms if they weren’t preoccupied. “I promise you we’re going to get through this.”

30

Archie Elmhurst was so caught up in the blissful moment that he never wanted it to end.

He and Susan Wheeler had been dating for three months now, and it’d been the most wonderful period for him. Seeing the up-and-coming artist had made the sergeant hold out for things he didn’t even know he wanted.

They had gone out to the Lane Theatre to see a Led Zeppelin tribute act. Archie could not believe he’d once scoffed at the concept of ‘head over heels’... but he did remind himself that he needed that he needed to take things slowly.

He’d been thinking about the things they could do together. They’d started staying around each other’s houses, greeting each other in the morning, and discussing the upcoming daily grind over a coffee. It was a nice little routine that set him up for the rest of the day.

And whenever he was at work, unless he was dealing with a race against the clock, Archie would find himself counting down to the moment when she was back in his arms.

Still, he was trying not to rush into anything too quickly.

All Liv’s talk about going on holiday with Dean had made him think about the possibility of taking Susan away somewhere nice. Somewhere they could get to know each other better in a different slice of paradise. But he remembered that Susan might not feel so comfortable with being whisked off her feet so soon into the relationship, even if they were in a good place.

They’d headed back to his place after the theatre, and Susan made her way into the kitchen where she knew a bottle of white wine was lying in wait.

As he moved about his home, he found himself stepping on the latest batch of mail. Most of it was leaflets for restaurants, but there was a large A4-size envelope that got his attention.

It had his name and address scribbled on the front.

Curious, he tore open the envelope and looked inside.

There was a set of black and white photographs printed on glossy paper. Archie had to squint to make out the two figures. Then, he realised with dawning horror that he was looking at Susan and himself.

Not only that, but the photos seemed to have been taken while they were exiting the theatre. Archie remembered stopping off at a bar to get a drink with Susan. They’d been there for about forty-five minutes. So, whoever had shot the photographs had taken them, got them printed off, stuck them in an envelope, and snuck them through his door.

And they knew exactly where he lived.

This package couldn’t have arrived that long ago.

Archie threw the door open and burst into the street. He looked up and down, trying to see if there was anyone standing outside, watching the house, or possibly, someone running away.

He wondered if he should call out, see if anyone would come out of hiding, but he already knew it’d be a pointless exercise.

They would have already been long gone.

Archie looked up and down the street, trying to remember if there were any security cameras in the neighbourhood.

He went back inside where Susan had made herself comfortable with a glass of wine. “Is everything all right?” she asked with a gentle smile.

He realised he was still clutching the photographs and hurriedly stuffed them into a drawer. “Yeah, everything’s all right,” he said, hoping that he had a plausible poker face.

He joined her on the sofa and downed the glass in one.

“You were thirsty,” she remarked with surprise.

“Believe me, I need it.”

He couldn’t help feeling that Olivia had gone on holiday at the worst possible time and wondered how she’d feel about the mess she’d have to come back to.

31

They made their way back to the house with the body, and the guests that were standing around were looking at the sheet that they knew contained their former colleague. Now would be a good time for anybody’s guilty conscience to kick in, Liv thought as they moved up the hall and into to Stacey’s room, laying the body on the bed.

“We will have to hope that somebody comes along sooner or later, otherwise, it’s going to stink,” she acknowledged. But Dean was only half-listening, clearly lost in thought.

“I keep thinking about the blackmail attempt on Robin,” Dean explained. “I would have written that off as a desperate attempt to get out of the company to spend more time with her daughter, but the more I think about it, the more I feel that there’s more to the story. The way in which she handled it… very well-thought out.”

“You sound like you appreciate the effort,” Liv mused sardonically.

“I’m just saying, the only way you get that effective at blackmail is if you’ve had plenty of practice,” he noted. “Which makes me think that what happened with Robin wasn’t a hit and run but something that could have happened a dozen times, maybe more. For all we know, she could have dirt on everybody in that room.”

“Well, how do you plan on getting information out of them all?” Liv asked. “It’s not like they’re going to come up to us and say, ‘Oh, by the way, the bitch was blackmailing us.’ Not without casting suspicion on themselves.”

There was a knock at the door, and before Liv had time to say, ‘come in’, the door opened, and Henry stepped into the room. He had heavy bags under his eyes, and Liv remembered the hectic day he’d endured, seeing two colleagues die and accusations flying left right and centre.

“Listen, I thought you should know that we’re going to look at going to bed,” he said, no longer spoiling for a fight and looking completely drained from the events of the day. “We’ve had a good look for this signal blocker, and so far, nobody’s turned up anything worthwhile. We’re trying again tomorrow… assuming any of us make it through the night.”

Liv nodded solemnly.

“I don’t suppose you have any advice for protecting ourselves?” he asked, sounding a little put out, almost as though the fight had left him, and Liv wondered whether he would even have the mental energy to fight off the killers if they appeared.

“I don’t know what I can offer beyond a locked door,” Liv admitted honestly.

“I would also recommend that in future, people moving about in the house should always make sure they’re accompanied by others. Other than the bedrooms, no one should be left on their own.” Liv wanted to offer some better advice, but she was at a loss as to what to say that would help. We’re all basically sitting ducks.

“We’ll be staying up for a while,” Dean added, trying to be reassuring. “Just making sure that the house is secure, so hopefully you can all rest easy.”

“I don’t know how possible that’s going to be,” Henry noted, stealing a glance at Stacey Moore’s covered body. “Didn’t do her or Robin much good.”

And if people really wanted to break in here, I don’t think they’re going to let a locked door stop them, Liv noted to herself.

“Well, here’s hoping we’re all going to be here come the morning,” Henry muttered, thrusting his hands in his pockets. “I guess this is goodnight.” He turned and started to walk towards the door before turning around and adding, “I never wanted to hurt anyone, you know. I know people see me as a bit of a shit, but all I wanted was to build up a decent business. I never wanted any of this.”

“I know,” Liv said plainly, not sure if she believed him.

And then he left the room, closing the door behind him.

“He’s definitely hiding something,” Dean whispered. “Even if he isn’t behind all of this, he knows more than he’s letting on. We need to ask him more in the morning.”

“That’s assuming he’s still going to be here,” Liv noted, looking out the window at the darkened sky, and even though she couldn’t see anybody, she could sense the gunmen watching them, trying to anticipate their every move.

32

Nikki Harding smiled with contentment as she stepped off the train and breathed in the familiar Newquay air. It was like she’d never been away.

She’d explained to her team that she was going to be taking a short ‘nostalgia tour’ for old times’ sake, but she didn’t specify what aided it, per Collins’ instructions.

She had left her daughter with a sitter, promising the little girl that, ‘Mummy has to help out a few old friends.’ As she dragged her bag across the platform, she couldn’t help but feel excited to be seeing all her old friends again. She just wished it was under better circumstances. She was still confused by Collins’ call. Even though she’d insisted on knowing why she was potentially upending her life, Collins hadn’t wanted to take the risk of saying anything over the phone, saying it was better delivered in person.

When she stepped out of the station, her mouth twisted into a wide smile at the sight of DS Archie Elmhurst looking at her and waving gently. She rushed towards him and pulled him into a tight hug. “How are you doing, you posh sod?”

“Do I detect a hint of accent change?” he chided humorously.

“Careful,” she said, playfully swiping him with her hand. “You make it sound like I’ve gone native.” They both shared a laugh before the tone turned serious again. “Figured it must be bad for you to haul me back here.”

“Well, the gaffer is getting himself into a state trying to work out what is happening,” Archie said as he lifted her bag into the bag of the car.

“So, what exactly am I needed for?” Nikki asked during the journey, trying to use humour to lighten the mood. “Surely you’ve got DC Shaw playing the class clown?”

“Well, the case is a bit more delicate than you might think,” Archie noted. “Maybe it’d be better if you heard it from the gaffer’s own lips.”

* * *

They pulled into the station and exited the car. “Is it okay for people to know that I’m coming, or would it be better for me to be smuggled into the building under a blanket?”

“It’ll be fine, I assure you,” Archie assured her, not that it stopped him from looking from side to side to see if anyone was watching them for a little too long.

Once they were in the main CID office, Nikki felt like she’d stumbled into a secret meeting. DS Tim Harris and DC Andrew Shaw were sat at their desks, smiling at her return.

“You been keeping my seat warm, DC Shaw?” Nikki asked, beaming with pride at how far the young copper had come.

Clara and Diana entered the room, and Nikki wrapped the couple in a bear hug. “Good to see you both.” She looked to Diana, briefly stupefied by her presence. “So, what’s this, Diana? You seen the light and decided to cross over to CID?”

Diana bowed her head, unable to respond. “With the way things have been going, I thought it’d be better if we had Diana present for this, to give her piece of mind,” Clara answered for her, wrapping an arm around Diana who struggled to articulate.

Collins stepped out of his office. and the sight of him still managed to take Nikki’s breath away. They’d healed their rift, but there was still a distance between them.

“Nikki,” Collins said, trying to make a show of professionalism for the sake of the other officers present. “Thank you so much for coming over.”

“It’s not a problem,” she replied nonchalantly. “Just make sure you send me back to Derby in one piece.” But she could see how the mood was dampened and wondered what had happened to bring down the mood so much. “Shouldn’t we be waiting for Liv and Dean before we dive in?” She knew that Liv’s drive would see the current crisis through.

“Liv’s away on a holiday with Dean,” Collins explained. “Normally, I’d wait for her to come back, but the problem is too serious for us to postpone. We need to address it now. We’ve been investigating the possibility of a clandestine network of corrupt police officers, some of whom may be based in Newquay and have been targeting this team.”

“Shit,” Nikki said, finally sinking into her feet.

“And while I would love to bother DI Austin with this, I think she and DI Lawrence have earned a well-earned rest.”

33

Liv and Dean had barely slept through the night. After they made sure that everyone had gone to bed, they’d patrolled the house, trying to identify any possible entry points. Once they were convinced there was no way anyone could just walk into the house, they retired to their own bedroom where Briggs curled up between them, sensing the danger.

The next morning, it was as if there was a decline in social norms. The guests barely bothered to greet each other, and nobody prepared breakfast. Liv had done a silent head count of everyone remaining and was grateful to see that nobody was missing.

They resumed the search for the signal jammer. The search was much more meticulous under the detectives’ watch, with them stripping each room while taking care not to damage any personal belongings. When one of the guests started to protest, Becky answered back with, ‘It’s the only way to be sure.’ She was clearly one of the only people keeping the peace.

The search went on for several hours, and all the while there was a nervous air about, as they were all expecting someone to burst into the house and attack them all.

But Dean and Liv were wondering whether the suspended disbelief was the whole point. That being that the gunmen weren’t just about threatening to take their lives, but ramping up the psychological torture with the constant reminder that there was no escape from the house. What once looked like a dream holiday home felt more and more like a gilded cage.

By the time it got to 1 pm, Liv was doubtful they’d find anything. Whoever had installed the jammer would have had enough time to devise an appropriate hiding place before it all kicked off. And by lunchtime, the jammer was still out of sight.

The remaining guests were on edge, too worn down to hide any tension they were feeling. Liv felt like her own senses had been heightened by the tension, and her ears pricked up at the slightest sound. Dean couldn’t take his eyes off any of the guests. Through a combination of fatigue and trauma, they were becoming increasingly easy targets for the gunmen to pick off.

“Maybe we can find a way to signal someone,” one guest suggested. “Maybe light a fire and hope someone sees it.”

Another guest looked at him incredulously. “And what good is that going to do us, knobhead? Did you see how much forest we had to come through to get here? No one will see us but the fucking badgers!”

“Could we try and keep calm!” Liv snapped, despite knowing the task was easier said than done. “We need to work together.” Ironically, just as she said this, she felt Dean prodding at her to follow him. “We’ll be back in just a minute.”

“How do we know you can be trusted?” An irate guest asked. “How do we know you’re not going to try and wipe any of us out?”

“Because we didn’t even know you were going to be here until we pulled up outside,” Liv exclaimed. “And we’re coppers, not assassins.” Though given the case she was working back in Newquay, she didn’t feel like playing up the integrity of the police system.

“We are trying to keep everyone alive,” Dean added.

“Do you think your fancy words are going to make any difference when there’s a gun to our heads?” one guest asked, looking increasingly twitchy, like he’d taken a substance.

“I think our instructions will be the only thing between you and a gun to your heads,” Dean retorted, walking away with Liv. “I swear, that group is losing it. If we don’t get anywhere, we’ll have to make a run for it. It’s like being locked in a cage with wild animals. I’m almost scared to start throwing accusations around in case it backfires.” Liv was stunned to see Dean looking so troubled and uncertain. He’d always been able to come up with a plan to see himself through, always kept a cool head in the face of danger. It was unnerving to know he was just as susceptible to frayed nerves.

“Well, what did you want to drag me away for?” Liv asked, preferring to keep her attention on the group. “Unless it’s a secret passage leading out into some suburban area, I’m not interested.”

“Oh, I think you will be,” he replied, taking out an unfamiliar mobile. “It’s Stacey Moore’s mobile. I managed to get into it.”

34

Collins had just finished recounting the events of the last few months to DS Harding and was waiting for her to respond. “I think I preferred it when I thought the worst thing to deal with was serial killers. At least you can see those dodgy pricks a mile off.”

“We’ve managed to arrest a few low-level people,” Collins explained, “for crimes involving false imprisonment and sexual extortion. But in terms of people driving it, the money guys, the bigwigs…”

“You mean the guys having posh lunches and shagging on expenses?” Nikki asked, blunt as ever. “They won’t be found so easily.”

“Well, they’ve sent out threats to our families,” Archie noted, holding up a folder of photos. “This arrived at my house last night. There was nothing else with it. No note, nothing. But the warning is loud and clear. They’re saying that they know where I live and where to strike. I wouldn’t be surprised if they followed me into work that day.”

Nikki’s humorous banter fell, and she looked to Collins, turning deathly serious. “Have you just put a target on my daughter’s back?” Suddenly, she felt the need to get back to Derby to make sure Francesca was protected.

“I can promise you nothing like that will happen,” Collins assured her. He wobbled slightly where he stood, as though he’d been exerting too much energy, and sat down in a seat. “I’ve been doing a little bit of digging, and I have been drawing up some potential names. I’ve had Clara going through them to find out if any have interests in Newquay.”

“What kind of research?” Nikki asked dubiously.

“I was meeting with an old mate of mine from Anti-Corruption,” he explained, thinking back to that meeting. “He is well aware of a lot of the rotten apples, more specifically, the ones they can’t stick charges to. And he gave me a list of names. We just need to narrow it down, and then it’s a matter of collecting evidence.”

“And how have you been doing that?” Nikki queried.

“We have a young woman who previously escaped from one of the coppers. She’s been very forthcoming about the treatment she received and is more than happy to tell us everything we need to know.” He paused, and Nikki knew as she waited with bated breath that she wasn’t going to like it. “We’ve also been working with Katie Gibson.”

“What!?” Nikki roared at the top of her voice. She looked around the room, trying to see if this was a prank or for anyone to contradict the gaffer, but they just looked away. “I’m sorry, did IQs just drop sharply while I was away? After everything that woman did to ruin us… what she did to me…” During her stint as an undercover journalist, Katie had leaked confidential information regarding Nikki’s crooked husband, which had resulted in the abduction of her daughter. Though the girl had been safely recovered, everyone knew that Nikki would be out for blood if she ever laid eyes on the disgraced copper. “Bloody Judas.”

“And I suppose that makes you Jesus, does it?” Archie quipped impatiently. “Look, I’m not happy over some of the things she did. None of us are. But ever since she got caught out, she’s really been trying to turn her life around. She’s been helping a lot with this investigation. Hell, the only reason Olivia’s sister and niece are alive is because of her.”

“Is that supposed to impress me?” Nikki demanded. “My entire life was upended because of her.” Even though she had established a new life for herself in Derby, there was a part of her that felt that wouldn’t have been necessary if Katie hadn’t interfered.

“Nikki,” Andrew began, clearing his throat. “There are bigger things happening here than any of us. All of us are in the firing line, and we need each other if we’re going to pull through. The only reason we’ve made so much progress with this case is because she’s been helping us. Now, you don’t have to like her, but we all want the same thing—to find the people giving the police a bad name. We’ve all had to put our grudges on hold for the sake of getting through this. Surely, you can see that.”

Nikki sighed. “I think being in CID has widened your vocabulary, Duracell,” she commented admiringly. “Okay, I can play ball. For the sake of the team, if not her. But I need to have a sit-down with her. I need to get a few things off my chest before I can work with her.”

The group looked at each other like that was the worst idea out imaginable.

35

Liv and Dean retreated to their bedroom and looked over the footage on the phone. It showed a darkened corridor and a group of people speaking in hushed voices. The camera, clearly handheld, moved towards a young man who was sitting in a chair. And then Liv noticed that he wasn’t so much sitting in it as he was tied to it. Based on the look of exhaustion he gave the camera, the ropes were the only thing keeping him upright. He was wearing a red and white striped t-shirt that was soaked through.

“What is Rule 4A of the Build-It-Up company manual?” an unknown voice called out from behind the camera. The young man began to respond, and he managed to recite three paragraphs worth of content, which would have impressed Liv were it not for him having memorised it under duress. But then he must have slipped up because the voice behind the camera called out, ‘Wrong!’ Suddenly, a damp cloth was pulled over his face and water was poured onto it. He coughed and spluttered from behind the rag. When it was pulled away, he gasped and spluttered, “Stop! I can’t breathe… I can’t breathe….” It was hard to tell whether the dampness running down his face was water or his own tears.

“You know this is the initiation process,” one of them insisted. “Everyone has to go through it. No one is without exception. The only way to know if you’re right for the job.”

“Hazing,” Dean said with disgust. “They’re fucking hazing him.”

He tried repeating it again and got it wrong, and again they repeated the waterboarding technique… only this time he stopped spluttering.

“Come on, lad, you don’t need to pretend for us,” the voice exclaimed as the rag was pulled away, but the young man looked deathly still. “Shit, he’s not breathing!” Stop the camera!” There was a flurry of movement, and the video ended.

The pair sat in silence, trying to gather their thoughts on the situation. “Do you think this was something else she was hanging over somebody’s head to sway votes?”

“Not possible,” Dean replied. “Robin’s hit-and-run was linked to him specifically. No way he wanted that getting out. No, this is something else. This is clearly standard practice throughout the whole company. This feels less like blackmail material and more like a motive for murder. I think we need to bring this to the other guests.”

They got up and walked into the living room where Henry and the employees were waiting. No one was sitting still anymore, having resorted to pacing and fidgeting, clearly feeling that sitting still wasn’t an option. “Did you manage to find anything?” Henry asked, daring to look hopeful.

“You could say that,” Dean observed, speaking clearly so that everyone in the room could hear him. “We were having a look through Stacey Moore’s phone, and we found this.”

He held up the phone and the offending video. Henry’s eyes widened in shock. “What the fuck is that?” he demanded, and they tried to determine how much of his reaction was for their benefit.

“This looks like a hazing ritual,” Dean explained calmly, even though his fury was palpable. “And given that Stacey had a known reputation for digging up dirt on company employees, I can’t think of anyone else this’d be meant for.”

Henry looked closely at the image. “I know that lad,” he muttered. “That’s Charlie.”

A few faces behind him looked up in recognition.

“How do you know him?” Liv asked, surprised at how forthcoming he was being.

“He was a junior programmer that worked for us,” Henry explained, his throat suddenly going dry. “We were testing for new talent, and he came at the top of the list. He worked with us for a few weeks… and then… he killed himself.”

“So, he didn’t die from this torture?” Liv asked, wanting to drive home exactly what it was to anyone present still kidding themselves into thinking this was part and parcel of company culture.

“I didn’t even know that anything like this was going on,” Henry insisted, holding his hands up. “I know I can be a bit of a taskmaster, but I promise you I didn’t know anything about this.”

Liv looked out to members of the group, some of whom didn’t come out with the same protestations of innocence. “You lot knew about this, didn’t you?”

36

Katie had lost track of how many days she’d spent in the safe house; it was like they’d all blurred together. She was still waiting for an update on what would happen to her, then she heard the door open. “Thank God you’ve come,” she called out, fully expecting DS Elmhurst. “The biscuits here are shite…”

She paused. It wasn’t Archie Elmhurst. It was the one person she’d lived in fear of seeing again. The one person that would drive home all the guilt she’d tried to bury.

“Unfortunately, the only thing they had on the shelves was rat poison,” Nikki Harding mused as she stepped into the space. “Which is quite fitting given the circumstances.”

“What are you doing back in Newquay?” Katie asked, wondering if she should keep some distance between herself and the copper who was moving towards her.

“Well, considering how shit hasn’t so much hit the fan as drowning everyone in it, Collins needs someone on his team that he can trust unconditionally, which thankfully includes me…” Nikki answered, gesturing to herself before adding, “And supposedly you.”

Katie couldn’t help but wonder if this was some practical joke set up by the team, to put her in a room with the one woman who wanted to see her dead. “Why did they send you here? What am I supposed to do with you?”

“I actually asked for this meeting,” Nikki explained. “Apparently, you’ve been turning into something of the golden girl since I left, so Collins is inclined to give you a chance.” Her face darkened. “Me, I need a little convincing.” She sat down in one of the seats. “You upended my entire life when you made that report, and I want to know why.”

Katie opened her mouth, thinking of all the things she could say to save her own skin, such as that her boss had pressured her into it, but she knew that wouldn’t fly with Nikki.

“I did it because I thought that I was exposing police corruption in the service,” Katie admitted. “I thought you were part of the problem. And I’d like to be able to say that I didn’t know about your daughter, but it didn’t make any difference. I just saw what looked like a good story and went to print.” She bowed her head. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes over my career, things I can’t take back. But what I did to you and your family… what that led to. I know it doesn’t mean much, but I am sorry. I am so sorry that I almost cost you your daughter. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done, and I’ve spent the last few months trying to make it up, even though I probably never will.” She looked up at the sergeant, regret lining her face.

Nikki had a complete poker face, and Katie almost wished that Nikki would descent into one of her trademark barbs. “Got to say, this isn’t how I thought the conversation was going to go. I was half-expecting you to deny it happening or avoid any and all accountability. I didn’t think you’d actually tell me you were sorry.”

“But I am,” Katie responded. “And I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I want you to know that I’ve left that part of my life behind. I’m trying to live a better version of my life than the one I’ve been living, and I want to help this investigation however I can.”

“Even if it means upending your entire life?” Nikki asked stoically.

“You might call it karma,” Katie mused, feeling guilt overwhelming her.

“From what I understand, Olivia trusts you to do the right thing,” Nikki explained. “So, I am taking that as a sign that I need to. But I still have things I need to work through. My husband was not a good man, and I honestly think that regardless of how it played out, there would have been no happy ending for us. But the danger that my daughter faced… that didn’t need to happen.” She gulped and clasped her hands together, imagining Francesca sitting in front of her playing with a stuffed toy and trying to work out the best way to shatter her world. “She didn’t understand for a long time what happened to her. And no child should have to at that age. Whenever she asked me where her daddy was, it was a long time before I could tell her, and I had to give the watered-down version appropriate for a four-year old. I feel like I was taking some of my daughter’s innocence.”

Katie looked truly ashamed but said nothing, willing to face it.

“Maybe you have changed. Maybe everything my friends have been saying is true.” Nikki got to her feet and offered a hand. “But the only way I’m going to find out is if I get you through this in one piece. What do you say?”

37

The guests shuffled uncomfortably in their seats as they were faced with what Liv was convinced was the truth. “The fact that Stacey had this on her phone suggests she was planning to do something explosive with it, and I’m sure a lot of you know more than you’re letting on. I need you to tell me the truth. We can decide where we go from there.”

There was even more silence, and Liv wondered whether anyone was going to be brave enough to speak up. Finally, a man said, “It was never supposed to go that far.”

“What’s your name?” Liv asked, feeling that it’d be simpler if she just stuck name badges on all the guests. Gets easier to tell them apart when they’re killed off.

“Tom,” he answered, standing up tall, trying to take control of the room and the situation. “I’m the CFO. Charlie was my friend. I was supposed to be his mentor.”

“His mentor?” Dean exclaimed, trying not to laugh. “What the hell were you drilling into his head? Cause it looked like you were torturing the poor kid.”

“It’s a typical initiation that we do with all of the new employees,” Tom told them. “It’s not exactly illegal.” The blasé way he said it suggested there was no real problem.

“I don’t see any employee handbooks that recommend hazing,” Liv said coldly.

“We’ve all been through it at some point,” Tom responded, gesturing to all the people in the room, some of whom responded with nods. “It’s just what happens. It’s nothing personal. We didn’t deliberately set out to make the kid’s life a misery.”

“And you’re all fine with this?” Liv addressed the group, but they all looked away.

“I had no idea this was going on,” Henry insisted to the detectives before turning to Tom. “I never authorised any of this.”

“No, you didn’t,” Tom retorted, turning on him. “But you always wanted the best for the company, regardless of what we had to give for our troubles. You knew enough, but you just figured that as long as we were making the company money, you didn’t need to probe too deeply. And given what a hard-arse you are to deal with, some people would argue that this is as much about how much we can endure you as it is about getting to grips with the work.”

Henry opened his mouth to say something, but even he couldn’t deny that he was a pain to work with and looked ashamed of the culture he’d helped to build up.

“So, what happened to Charlie?” Liv asked, knowing the story wouldn’t end well.

“Well, he passed the initiation, but when he got into work, he struggled to keep up with the workload. He dealt with depression, had to take time off, and then…” Tom paused, unable to meet the detectives’ eyes. “He hung himself.”

Liv nodded slowly. “So, he killed himself because of the abuse all of you put him through.” She addressed the entire group now, not even bothering to filter her disgust. “Do none of you have any remorse for all the suffering that was caused to that young man? No thought for his family?” There was no response from them.

There’s a part of me that wants to just throw them to the wolves. Luckily for them, it’s a very small part. “Were there any more cases like this?”

“As in anyone else dying?” Tom asked, suddenly the fountain of knowledge. “Not that I know of. Charlie was the only one. Everyone else is still with the company.”

Jesus, he’s talking about that as though it’s a good result.

“Do you think that could be why all of this is happening?” a female guest asked.

“It’s a possible motive,” the inspector answered. “And they definitely feel justified.”

“We’re going to get out of this though, aren’t we?” Tom asked, trying to make sure that his confession hadn’t cost him his safety net. “You’re going to protect us, aren’t you?”

“I’m a police officer,” Liv responded neutrally. “I’m going to do my job.” She began to walk away before turning back and saying, “I tell you, if any of you survive this, you really need to work on your recruitment practises.”

She walked away, followed closely by Dean. “You realise that that may not be the actual motive. Yes, it proves that they’re shitty people, but that doesn’t mean this is the reason all of this is happening. We have no real motive.”

“No, but there is one way we can get one,” Liv suggested. “We can go straight for the gunmen and see if they’re willing to talk.”

38

Nikki walked back into the office to see it was mostly empty… save for Collins. “Where’s everybody else?” she asked with surprise.

“They’re all out going about their usual assignments,” Collins explained, not getting up from his seat. “I figured that for the time being, we need to act as though the world is going to keep on turning so as to avoid suspicion.” He looked up at Nikki, revealing the bags under his eyes, and Nikki wondered when he had last slept. He looked like he was running himself into the ground. “How did your talk with Katie go?”

“Well, you won’t have to pick her up off the floor, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Nikki explained. “We managed to clear the air so that I don’t feel any more murderous rage… I might give her the occasional dirty look, but no more than that.”

“I guess I should be relieved,” Collins mused, having spent a lot of time getting used to Nikki’s sense of humour. It was one of the largest factors that attracted him to her. He got up from his seat, though it looked like the effort was costing him. “Got to say, it’s really good to see you, Nikki…” He started towards her, only to double over, coughing profusely.

“Steven?” Nikki exclaimed, rushing over to him and holding him tightly. He coughed again, this time into his hand, and when he brought it away from his mouth, they were both shocked to see blood in his palm.

“Steven, what is going on?” she asked as she helped him into his desk, her face a picture of concern. “Are you… sick? And please, do not lie to me.”

Collins knew there was no lying to Nikki, who could see through him instantly. Finally, he nodded. “It’s lung cancer…” he explained nonchalantly, the shock of the diagnosis having since ebbed away into casualness. “I found out a few weeks ago when I kept on coughing. And then, I was out, and I collapsed. I knew something was up, so I made an appointment. And that’s when I got the diagnosis.”

“Jesus,” Nikki exclaimed, having no witty comment to hand. “Is it terminal?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “The doctors think they’ve caught quickly, but I’m not sure. You know how fast these things grow. Before you know it, you’re planning your own funeral.”

“Well, how far into chemotherapy, are you?” Nikki asked, pulling up a chair next to the desk. Collins didn’t respond. “Steven, you are on chemotherapy, aren’t you?”

“...I haven’t engaged with it yet,” he explained, bracing himself for the reaction.

“You’re kidding me!” Nikki exclaimed loudly, her voice ricocheting throughout the room. “Steven, are you fucking kidding me!?”

“I admit, the situation isn’t ideal,” he noted, playing down the seriousness.

“This is your life we’re talking about!” she shouted. “What has your wife said about this? She should be marching you down there herself.”

“She doesn’t know about it,” he admitted with a little embarrassed. “In fact, nobody else does, and I’d prefer it if it was kept that way.”

“Bollocks,” Nikki snapped, springing out of the chair. “I did not come back here to be your secret keeper. You tell me why you can’t get help!”

“Because this case requires too much,” Collins insisted, settling into the chair, coughing a little. “There are so many angles to play. So many people to investigate. And you’ve heard from people the threats they’ve received. DS Elmhurst got those photos posted to his home address. My officers need me for this. I’m going to be no good to them if I’m out of it and hooked up to an IV drip. I am where I need to be.”

“I get that you’re more focused on the team than bigging yourself up,” she explained. “It’s why I can stomach you instead of all of the other top brass. But do you really think the team are going to thank you for keeping them in the dark? You saw Diana. That girl is completely shaken up. How do you think she’s going to feel knowing that she is one of the reasons you’ve kept quiet?” She leaned down next to the chair, took his hand and kissed it gently, something she used to do when they were having a dalliance together. “You want me to stick around and help with this investigation, then I need you to seek help for this. Or I tell everyone and I’m out of here. Please, Steven. Do it for me if you can’t do it for yourself.”

Collins looked thoughtfully at his former lover, grateful the care was still there.

39

“So, this is it,” Dean snapped in response to Liv’s previous suggestion. “You’ve finally snapped from the isolation. You actually want to walk up to a gang of murderous psychopaths and ask them why they’re bumping each other off?”

“Look, it’s not exactly an idea I’m enthused about, but you yourself said they’re not focused on us, just on the other people in the house. And they don’t even know we’re coppers.” Though I don’t know how they’d react if they knew. “Dean, this is not a suicide mission. I fully plan on getting out of here, planning for our wedding, and going to have a proper holiday without all of this shit. Now, if you want to sit around and wait for them to come in here and kill everyone, then say so now. Well?”

She could tell that there were no other useful suggestions. “I will go with you,” Dean insisted, knowing that once Liv made her mind up, there was no changing it. “I can’t let you do this alone. I won’t.”

“Well, you’ll have to,” she retorted. “I need you here keeping an eye on things. Trust me, I’m a big girl. I know how to handle myself. I can get a knife from the kitchen if need be.”

“You know that bullets go faster than blades, right?” Dean asked. “If you’re going to do this, I am coming with you. Not to make you safe, but you are not leaving me here with that nest of vipers. I’ll blow my own brains out first.”

“Fair enough,” Liv smiled wryly, deciding she wasn’t that cruel.

* * *

They set out along the footpath, not telling anyone where they were going, just walking out the front and up the footpath. “You know if they try anything with us, I’m going to put it down to your lapse of judgment,” he insisted.

Liv smiled, fighting off the urge to hold his hand. It had always been the way for the last few years. Liv had always felt like she’d faced death itself countless times over, but it was always with Dean by her side, and that was enough to motivate her to get through the worst.

As they came up the footpath to the remains of the car, along with Robin’s bullet-riddled corpse still splayed out on the ground, they saw a group of gunmen standing together, their weapons trained on the two detectives. Liv and Dean instantly raised their hands into the air and shouted, “We’re unarmed! We just want to talk!”

A lone gunman, presumably the leader, approached them, rifle trained on them. Liv could see clearly that the model was not unlike the one found by Stacey’s body. That was probably used to fire at me. She tried to steel herself.

“You shouldn’t have come out here,” the group leader hissed at them. “You should go back to the house while you still have legs.”

“Why didn’t you kill me?” Liv asked, keeping her hands raised and her eyes on the gunman, fighting off the urge to look to Dean for reassurance. “You had a perfect shot when we came here a few days ago, and you didn’t take it. Why?”

“You were not the target,” the gunman insisted. “Everyone propping up that shitty company in that house deserves to die,” he insisted, letting his anger seep out. “Do you have any idea what they do to their employees? They torture them, put them through the wringer.”

Well, at least we now have our motive, Liv mused

“But why the need for all of this?” she asked. “If you know what they’ve done, why not just go to the police?” The response was partly to test the waters and partly so that Liv could distance herself from her role as much as possible in their eyes.

“Do you not think we tried that?” the gunman asked. “We did everything we could to get justice. We went to the police and launched social media campaigns. Ironically, the one person who had any damaging evidence was the one who was propping it up beforehand.”

Their words spooked Liv on several counts. Firstly, confirming that they knew exactly who had the footage and what they’d done with it, but also the extra emphasis on ‘we did everything we could to get justice.’ She was beginning to wonder whether there were other people who’d partaken in that ritual, people who didn’t approve of Built-It-Up’s company values… which meant Liv could be staring out at several disgruntled employees.

This is probably their fucked-up idea of a union.

40

“So, what’s the plan, then?” Liv asked. “How do I know you’re not going to kill us as soon as you’re done with the rest of us?”

“Whatever you may think, we’re not savages,” the lead gunman insisted, though Liv mused that Stacey and Robin would beg to differ. “We only want people who are directly connected to that company. You and your partner will be free to go, I promise you. No harm will come to either of you. But you try to interfere in what is happening, then it becomes a different story. So, for both your sakes, I suggest you head back to the house”

“Why can’t you let us go now?” Dean asked, speaking up for the first time. “It’s not like we’ve seen your faces, and it’s going to be a long way before we’re back to a city.”

“Because you will try and get help and stop what is happening.” The lead gunman lowered his weapon, his exasperation coming through on his masked face. “Why do you even care what happens to them anyway? We are doing people a service. They aren’t going to stop. You know what they’re doing, and I’ll bet they gave you the whole ‘toughening you up’ and ‘bringing you into the culture’ crap. They are toxic, and I’ve seen far too many people end up in the wrong headspace because of it.” He raised the weapon again. “Now go back inside. I won’t say it again.”

“Okay, we’re going,” Dean said suddenly, surprising Liv when he beckoned for her to head back to the house. “Just one more thing,” he said, pausing in his step. “If this is about taking out everyone in the company, why not do it straight away?”

“Because we want to ramp up the tension,” the lead gunman explained. “We want them to know how completely fucked they are, to know what it’s like to feel completely powerless, to the point that by the time we come down this path… they’ll be begging for a bullet to the head rather than carry on with the torture.”

So, this is essentially a drawn-out, sadistic form of karma.

“Okay, we’re heading back now,” Dean insisted, walking along with Liv.

“What the hell was all that about?” Liv asked in a hushed tone until there was a bit more distance between them and the gunmen. “Not that I mind you being impatient to avoid getting a bullet in the head.”

“I’ve been thinking about a few things,” Dean said as he started to move a little bit faster. “They have clearly had some help from someone inside the house. We know that much. But we haven’t known who… until now. He mentioned ‘not being in the right headspace.’ Now, I’m not up to speed on my hitman vocabulary, but I’m pretty sure most hired thugs don’t use that expression freely.”

“That doesn’t paint much of a picture,” Liv acknowledged, feeling like her partner was clutching at straws. “Anything more to go on?”

“Yes, actually,” Dean added quickly, bringing out Stacey Moore’s phone. “I had another look at the footage of Charlie, and I saw this.” He brought up a specific image on the camera and zoomed into it. It focused on Charlie’s hand tied to the side of the chair. As Dean zoomed closer, they noticed he was gripping something in his hand, something that he was determined not to let go of. Liv’s eyes widened with disbelief.

“Is that?” she asked, trying to get the words out. “Is that a crystal?”

“Yes,” Dean answered, sounding more disappointed than pleased with the discovery. “And who do we know in the company who makes use of them?”

“Becky Edwards,” Liv answered, thinking about how the quirky young woman had been one of the only people to make them feel welcome at the house. And even then, she’d got the impression that the passionate woman didn’t fit in with the rest of the cutthroat culture. Now she could see why.

“We’ve got to get back to the house,” Liv exclaimed, panic starting to set in. “We should never have left them on their own.”

They broke into a full-blown sprint, making their way back into the main part of the house, unsure whether to call out to the guests. They decided to try the living room, the last place they were all seen together, and slowly, they re-entered the space.

The sight they returned to was both shocking and unsurprising.

41

Becky Edwards was pointing a gun at Henry, who was backed into the corner of the room. All the other guests were sat on either side, no one daring to move.

“Becky,” Liv said slowly, stepping into the room. “What are you doing?”

“I want them to confess on camera,” Becky said, not taking her eyes off Henry, her sweet demeanour now gone, replaced by steely resolve.

“Is this about Charlie?” Liv asked, thinking about the crystals. “Who was he to you?”

“He was my brother,” she explained. “He was never like that before he went to the company. He was a happy guy. Really kind and sweet. And he was great with computers. He was looking for his first job. I thought it’d be great for him. I had no idea they were doing any of this shit to him…and when he got depressed, I tried to help him, I really did.” She struggled to hold back her tears. “I was the one that found him, you know, hanging from his bedroom ceiling. All because I didn’t check what a load of opportunistic pricks you lot were.”

“I promise you,” Henry said sincerely. “I didn’t have anything to do with what happened to Charlie. And this, whatever this is, isn’t going to bring him back.”

“Maybe not,” Becky replied with a shrug. “But I’ll definitely feel a lot better for it afterwards. I want you lot to confess on a livestream to everything you did, not just to him, but to everyone you put through your ‘rituals’.”

Tom moved forward, feeling brave. “Come on, love, you’re not going to do anything. It was just a bit of banter… He just didn’t know how to take—”

He never got to finish his sentence as she turned the gun and fired a bullet into his leg, causing Tom to fall to the floor screaming in pain. “Oh, I’m sorry, is that how you’re supposed to take it?” She looked back to Henry, took out a phone, and tossed it to him. Despite his nervousness, he managed to catch it. “You say it all out loud so the world can hear,” she instructed. “A full confession. You sacrifice your job, this cosy little company you’ve built up for yourselves, everything, and admit that your practices were directly responsible for my brother’s death. And then my Charlie can rest in peace.”

“Are you going to go through all the names?” Liv asked, stepping forward slightly. “I mean, from what I understand, your brother wasn’t the only one to suffer. The people outside, they have also suffered because of the company, haven’t they?”

“Once I found out what was going on from Stacey, I knew it wouldn’t take much to find other employees who’d been tarnished with the same dirty brush,” Becky admitted. “And they didn’t take much convincing to come out here and keep this lot preoccupied.”

“So, you had Stacey and Robin killed?” Henry asked disbelievingly, finding his voice again. “You crazy bitch!”

She cocked the gun and moved closer to him until the gun was only a foot away from his head. “I won’t kill you, but you will do that confession—with or without a bullet. Completely up to you.”

Liv tried to think of what to do. There was no way they could clear the distance between them and Becky in time to get the gun from her, but there was somebody who was willing to take that chance.

Briggs had trotted into the room, barking loudly at the sudden tension, causing Becky to turn her weapon away from Henry and at the dog. Briggs dived out of the way just as a bullet hit the wall behind him. “Everybody out!” Liv screamed, and they didn’t need to be told twice, fleeing from the room before Becky could regain her composure.

“Not my fucking dog,” Dean growled, and he charged towards Becky, all sense of self-preservation momentarily lost. He tackled her to the ground, and she struggled to pull something from inside her jacket pocket. But it wasn’t a gun; it was a walkie-talkie.

“They’re heading for the woods!” she screamed like a rabid animal, frothing at the mouth. “GO INTO THE WOODS AND KILL THEM! KILL THEM ALL!”

Dean kicked the radio away and got her onto her back, holding her arms together.

Liv looked at the radio and then at Henry, who had lost the ability to speak.

There was no one else left in the living room save for herself, Dean, Henry, Becky, and Briggs, with everyone else running as fast as they could to avoid a death sentence.

EPILOGUE

“It’s a good thing you two were here when this kicked off,” Detective Inspector Rhona Clark of the Lincolnshire Police Service commented as she surveyed the two detectives trying not to give into the pull of exhaustion, huddled together on the sofa and refusing to separate. Liv held Dean’s hand tightly as if to say, back off, I need him with me.

Clearly, one of the escaped guests had managed to cover so much distance that they’d been able to leave the range of the signal jammer behind and call the police, who’d soon descended on the house to assess the situation.

“Believe me, I don’t feel so lucky,” Liv said, looking over to Dean who was fussing Briggs after his beloved pet’s near-death experience, the dog’s tongue hanging out of his mouth, clearly having forgotten the traumatic incident. Lucky boy.

“We’ve been looking through Ms Moore’s phone,” DI Webb commented. “And we’ve seen several cases of workplace abuse, all catalogued on the phone. It’s staggering, really.” She looked over to Henry, who was talking to one of her colleagues. It was clear from his hunched expression that he knew his company and career were over. The only question was how much legal damage he’d incur. “We’ve also been speaking with Ms Edwards, who has made a full confession in regards to both the false imprisonment of everyone present, yourselves included, and conspiracy to murder.”

Despite everything Becky had done, and the emotional trauma she’d put everyone else through, Liv couldn’t help feeling a pang of sympathy for the young woman. She’d been trying to avenge her brother first and foremost. Liv knew she’d probably go quite far herself for Alex. And now her life is over because of it.

“So, what’s going to happen to the company?” Liv asked uncertainly.

“Well, it won’t be long before these videos find their way to social media,” Rhona explained with resignation. “We’ll put out all the stops, but if people want a story badly enough, they won’t let anything stop them. We’re…” Her face clouded over.

“Go on,” Liv asked. Once she would have wanted no information regarding the case, especially as they were meant to be on holiday. But having spent so much time in the company of those people, she was eager to know what fate had befallen them.

“Most of the group members who disappeared are still missing,” the inspector noted darkly. “I imagine it’s because they want to avoid the scandals that will come with this content, but we are still trying to find all the disgruntled ex-employees that Ms Edwards recruited. “And we’ve since found two bodies pumped full of bullets. It looks like they got lost in one of the nearby woods and were ambushed.”

Liv almost collapsed against Dean, deeply feeling their loss and anguished that she couldn’t save all of them. She could imagine them running through the woods for days on end, some barefoot from what she remembered, trapped by merciless hunters who had no problem with launching their own kind of retribution.

“We will find them,” Rhona promised her. “We just hope that there won’t be too many bodies piling up before we do. We’ve asked Becky Edwards for the identities of the gunmen, and so far, nothing, even though we’ve told her it’d be in her best interest.”

That didn’t surprise Liv. Her hatred for the company and need for retribution overrode any kind of retribution. “Is there anything more that we can do?” Liv asked tentatively.

“No, I think you’re done,” Rhona assured them. “I want to thank you for everything you’ve done here over the last few days. I know it’s not what you both came out here to do, but I’m confident that a lot more lives would’ve been lost if you two hadn’t been here.”

“Well, if it’s all the same to you,” Liv said, getting to her feet, “we’ll just look at packing our bags and being on our way.”

* * *

They checked into a hotel that, while quite small compared to the lavish country house they’d been staying in, gave them an air of calm, even though they had to haggle to be allowed to have Briggs in the room.

They’d both had an extended shower and spoiled themselves with room service before curling up on the bed together in the softest bathrobes imaginable.

“It feels like we’re magnets for trouble,” Liv noted, curling into Dean. “Wherever we go. There’s always someone looking to take the piss.”

“True,” Dean acknowledged. “But we got through it together just like we always do.” He kissed Liv on the forehead. “We don’t have to head back straight away. I’m sure we’ll both due a few more days of leave.”

“Well, I spoke to Archie over the phone today,” she said, having used her phone many times since getting out of the jamming range. I’m never taking a Wi-Fi signal for granted ever again. “Apparently, the gaffer has brought Nikki Harding in for a short spell.”

Dean smiled. “She’s a good woman. And being honest with you, I would not want to be any of the coppers stupid enough to go up against her.”

Liv nodded, but deep down, she knew that for Collins to bring Nikki away from the life she’d built for herself, they must be getting desperate in the corruption case. So, even as she relished Dean’s embrace, soaking in every second she was spending with him, she still couldn’t help but wonder what she was going to go back to in a few day’s time.

* * *

“Got to say, it’s good to be back,” Nikki exclaimed as she settled into Andrew’s spare room.

“You can stay as long as you need to,” Andrew offered.

“Much appreciated, though I’m pretty sure that once upon a time, that phrase would have been ‘for as long as we tolerate you.’”

“Who says it still isn’t?” Andrew joked. “Tell you what, you’ve definitely managed to put a spring in the gaffer’s step.”

Nikki smiled politely at the comment. She’d promised to keep Collins’ secret providing he got the treatment he needed. She’d made her requests. All she could do was hope he would follow through. Even though she’d been brought back because of how everything else was going to shit, she was glad for the chance to reconnect with her Newquay roots. At the very least, it’d given her some closure regarding Katie Gibson. Even at her best, she couldn’t get the woman out of her mind. And though she wasn’t at the forgiveness stage just yet, she was willing to work with her for the time being.

Suddenly, their catch-up was interrupted by Andrew’s phone buzzing, and his face lit up.

“Let me guess, some fortunate lady is on the lookout for some Duracell batteries?” Nikki asked coyly.

“Liv’s sister has been helping me get back on the dating scene.”

“Nice to know it’s not all doom and gloom.”

* * *

The assignment was a simple and brutal one.

They didn’t have a specific target in mind, just someone close to Newquay CID. The team were getting too close for comfort, and the recent threats had done little to ward them off. They needed to take more drastic measures.

Their eyes narrowed as they focused on the person coming through the car park and knew they had their target.

They tried to keep themselves hidden around the cars, attempting to avoid being seen until the last minute. Make sure the target had no way of fighting back.

They stepped closer and closer, and just as the target started to turn around…

…they struck hard at the back of the neck.

The target fell to the floor, dazed and confused. They tried twisting around to get a good look at their assailant, only to be met with a kick to the face.

They then stamped on the target’s leg, causing a scream of pain to emit. Yet, they still tried to crawl away.

He leaned down, grabbing the back of the coat, when they whipped around and tried to punch the assailant. But the blow was uncoordinated, and they caught the assailant in the neck. He returned with a sharp right hook to the jaw, knocking the target flat on his back.

The assailant held up an object he’d brought from his car… a golf club.

He brought the end down hard on the target’s chest, raining down heavy blows over and over, and by that point, the target wasn’t responding, able to do little more than accept the blows.

Finally, they stopped moving and by all appearances stopped breathing.

The assailant looked around. He could see a few people piling out of the pub, and conscious of being seen, he ran away, satisfied that the job had been done.

It wasn’t enough to intimidate them. His employer had said that to throw them off target, they’d need to be unbalanced by shock. And they knew this would create ripples throughout the team as everyone would struggle to pick up the pieces of that night.

Nothing would be the same for Newquay CID ever again.

THE END

TO BE CONTINUED…

Find out more in Book Forty-Eight here: Avenge Our Own

Looking for Book Forty-Eight? Don’t worry, it’s here!

Avenge Our Own - DI Austin Book Forty-Eight

Want to follow Olivia’s ex-colleague, Detective Sergeant Leah West?

Why don’t you get into my other crime thriller series?

Sins Evoked - DS Leah West Book One

Missed Book One? Don’t worry, it’s here!

Find the Girl - DI Austin Book One

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I’ve always had a passion for writing stories and loved being able to create a world and have my characters live inside it. Being able to do this has been a dream come true and I’m so grateful that you could join me on this journey .

I live in the United Kingdom with my Husband and four young children who keep me busy and who I wouldn’t ever be without.

I hope you enjoy reading my books and please feel free to join me on social media where I love to interact with my readers!

mrsrobertswrites@hotmail.com

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