Their Silent Graves (Detective Gina Harte #7) - Carla Kovach Page 0,57

out of the door. ‘It’s chilly out here.’ She glanced at the gate. ‘Where’s Marcus?’

‘Just hold dessert. I’ll see if he’s okay, he wasn’t feeling too well.’ Isaac raised his eyebrows and headed out of the back gate.

‘Okay. Shall I get my shoes?’ Joanna bit her bottom lip.

‘No, we’ve got this. He’s just had a bit too much to drink.’ Isaac kissed her and called out Marcus’s name as he hurried along the path.

Cherie ran to the shed and grabbed her emergency bag, the special one she kept hidden under years of clutter and clutched it in her shaking hands. ‘Tell Christian we’ll be back in a minute.’ She closed the back gate as she left, hearing Isaac calling out for Marcus in the distance. She’d head the other way.

Cherie pushed past two teens. One was holding a glowing pumpkin and the other made her jump as he set off a banger. ‘You know you kids shouldn’t be out after what happened.’

‘Whatever,’ the lanky lad said.

‘Have you seen a man come past? A bit drunk-looking, cardigan, bleached blond hair, about so tall.’ She held her hand up, marking an estimate of Marcus’s height.

He pointed. ‘That way.’

Cherie took a deep breath. That way would eventually lead to Penny and Marcus’s home by foot. It was the quickest route. He’d just gone home.

‘Watch out for the creepy person in the black coat who was lurking around. We couldn’t see his face but he was well creepy.’ The shorter lad burst into laughter before throwing another banger in her direction.

They laughed at her flinching in response and a shiver ran through her. An image of a huge dark hood covering the tops of her own eyes came back to her. She peered into her emergency bag and clasped it shut before the lads could see what was in it. ‘Did you see what they looked like?’

‘Nah. They were just hanging around watching the gardens. He nearly shit himself when he saw the creep.’

The other boy slapped his friend. ‘No I didn’t. You’re a prick, you are.’

‘Did so! Don’t suppose you’ve got any money. Trick or treat?’

Cherie ignored the cheeky pair and headed further away from the house. She had no idea who she could trust any more. She gripped her bag like everything depended on it. It had everything she needed in it, just as she’d planned if a situation like this arose. She had something she desperately needed to do and it didn’t involve anyone at the dinner party.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

‘That’s Nicola Swinton and Eveline Peterson interviewed. I feel as though we have a more rounded picture of our victim.’ She let that thought dwell a little longer than she should have. Was she a victim, given that she was the chosen subject and recipient of the sinister letters? She bit her bottom lip, almost drawing blood. ‘Any further questions on what I’ve just told you?’ Gina waited as O’Connor, Wyre, Jacob and PC Smith finished writing their notes.

‘Have we managed to identify our Justin Bieber lookalike?’ Briggs entered with a drink in his hand.

Gina nodded. ‘Yes, he’s in interview room one. The good news is, he turned eighteen yesterday. His name is Logan Jones. I want to speak to him when I’ve finished here.’

Briggs took a seat around the table. ‘What did you pull him in for again?’

‘I witnessed him vandalising someone’s car. Not exactly crime of the century but it got him in here so I can talk to him. He was one of the kids we saw picking on the boy at Cleevesford High Street, this past Monday. More than anything, I’m hoping he can help with our murder case but he can wait a short while. Any luck with the local drug addiction services? Did anyone recognise our victim’s name?’

Wyre smiled. ‘Yes, Alexander Swinton has a counsellor called Maurice Dullard. His details are on the system and he’s more than happy to speak to us. He said he was deeply saddened by the news but there is one other thing: he saw our victim a couple of weeks ago. Mr Swinton wanted to refer himself back onto the programme which is why he’d got back in touch with Mr Dullard.’

‘I’ll head over to speak to him first thing. Great work on finding that out. Right, how are we getting on with identifying where our coffin may have come from?’

Wyre flicked over a few sheets of paper and pulled out a folder. ‘So far, I’ve managed to collate a lot

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