have given my previous theory any serious consideration; they still appeared to think every word I said to them was a lie, an attempt to mislead them and stop them looking at me as prime suspect. Maybe if Eva came with me though … she was a respected crime reporter, surely they’d listen to her?
BEEP.
I jumped at the sound of my mobile phone text alert. Wiping my floury hands on my jumper, I leaned across to the worktop and picked the phone up, tapping the screen to open the message. I read it, and a chill ran through me. What? WHAT?
It was from a withheld number, and the message was short and to the point.
I know what you’ve done. Time to confess. Or else.
Chapter 28
On Saturday morning Devon was in the process of dialling Gemma O’Connor’s number to ask her to attend the police station yet again for further questioning following the visit from Quinn O’Connor when, across the room, somebody called his name and told him the woman had just walked into reception downstairs and had asked to speak to him.
Weird, he thought, as he headed down to meet her. She just keeps on turning up, doesn’t she? Is she here to tell us where her husband is, or where she’s buried the body?
He snorted. Chance would be a fine thing. He needed to confront her about the domestic abuse allegations made by her husband’s cousin, and Helena would be joining him shortly to carry out that interview, but he’d see what Gemma wanted first, he decided. Despite the increasing quantities of circumstantial evidence, he still couldn’t quite make his mind up about her. Helena was out for her blood, more and more convinced that she was responsible for Danny’s disappearance at the very least, and very possibly for all four murders too, and while he could definitely see why she thought that, despite the lack of any logical motive, he was still clinging on to the fence he’d been half-sitting on, reluctant to entirely give up on other possibilities just yet. The evidence against her was becoming increasingly compelling though, he thought, no doubt about that, and if she really was the perpetrator of domestic violence on top of everything else …
Gemma was waiting in reception, bundled up in a black wool coat, her face pale and tired looking. Unexpectedly, she wasn’t alone, accompanied by a woman with long red hair and arresting green-brown eyes who she introduced as: ‘My friend and former colleague, Eva Hawton. Eva’s the crime reporter for The Independent I mentioned to you before. Is it OK if she comes in with me?’
Devon had shrugged and nodded, seeing no reason to refuse the request and, if he was being honest with himself, feeling for the first time in months a small flip of the stomach – that undeniable sign that he was physically attracted to someone – when he looked at Eva Hawton. She’d looked back with a cool gaze and then given him the smallest of smiles, and his insides had somersaulted.
Wow. She’s gorgeous, he thought, as he led the two women into the interview room. Was this a good sign? Did it mean he was finally starting to get over Jasmine? He certainly hadn’t even looked at another woman with the slightest stirring of interest since his relationship had ended, so he hoped it was, and he began to wonder how he could discreetly find out if she was single. Then his heart sank a little. After such a long dry spell, trust him to suddenly find his interest sparked by a woman who was best friends with a possible serial killer.
When they were settled at the table, the two women sitting side by side opposite him, Gemma reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her mobile phone. She tapped at the screen, and Devon noticed that her hands were shaking.
‘It’s this … I need to show you this,’ she said. ‘It arrived yesterday, from an anonymous number.’
She held the phone out, and he took it and read the message.
I know what you’ve done. Time to confess. Or else.
Interesting, he thought instantly.
‘OK. And it’s from a withheld number. So who do you think sent this?’ he said.
‘Well that’s just the thing, I have no idea. But it’s threatening, isn’t it? That bit – “or else”? It sounds like someone is planning to hurt me, doesn’t it? And I’m scared, DS Clarke. I’m suddenly really scared. I haven’t done anything, nothing at