Trust Me - Sheryl Browne Page 0,100

in. He was wearing a biker jacket and motorbike helmet in some, his hair, dark and long, like Ben’s, escaping from beneath it. Looking like a poser astride his bike in others. But it was the girl straddling the bike in another photo that really caught her attention.

She squinted at it, her heart almost stopping inside her. It wasn’t. Was it? It couldn’t be. Her heartbeat a sluggish thud in her chest, she picked up another photo, of the same girl. Wearing jeans and a strappy vest, she was sitting cross-legged against a graffiti-covered brick wall, sticking her tongue out, cheeky, confident. Confused, Millie picked up another photo. The girl looked nervous in this one. She was standing, her shoulders slightly slumped, her hands tucked behind her back. She was the same, but not. Wearing the same strappy top, but not. It was a different colour.

Hands shaking, Millie compared the two photos side by side. The girl was wearing a locket, a distinctive gold-embossed locket. They both were. Her mum still had hers, a tiny photograph of a blonde-haired girl in it. She’d told Millie her twin sister had been buried in hers.

Her mouth dry, she pushed the photographs into her jacket pocket and delved further into the box, extracting an envelope; a white self-seal envelope, the sort she’d heard had been stuffed through people’s doors. With trembling fingers, she extracted the letter from inside it.

Does your husband know about your son? she read. You belong to me, Emily. You can run. You can hide. I will find you. YOU’RE MINE.

Her head snapped up as she heard the door creak open.

‘Find anything interesting?’ Louis said behind her.

Forty-One

Jake

‘Natasha Jameson?’ Jake shook his head, his heart still pumping with shock. ‘But who …?’ He brought his gaze cautiously back to DS Regan’s. ‘How?’

‘We’re treating it as a hit-and-run,’ she said, ‘for the moment.’

Jake noted her dubious expression. ‘I take it you’re not convinced that it was.’

‘We’re keeping an open mind. It was dark. She was wearing black, not easy to see on a secluded country lane. From the location, we’re surmising she may have climbed out of a car. It may have been an unfortunate accident, the driver running scared, thinking he or she had hit an animal, possibly, but …’

‘You think she may have argued with someone.’ Jake read between the lines.

Regan shrugged non-committally. ‘It’s possible.’

‘Michael?’ Jake eyed her warily.

‘It seems her husband has an alibi, which can be corroborated,’ Regan answered. ‘We’ll know more when Natasha regains consciousness, which we’re hoping she soon will. We’ve been doing some digging around meanwhile, and it appears the general consensus is that she might have been cheating on him.’

Jake’s eyes slid to Emily. She looked deathly pale, clearly as shocked as he was. Before Regan had told them who the young woman was, it would have been Millie she’d seen lying in that lane. Jake had felt the fear emanating from her in palpable waves. This wouldn’t help her state of mind.

‘So rumour would have it,’ he said, his gaze gliding after Ben, who, also visibly shocked, was heading for the kitchen.

‘They split up for a while after her husband received one of the letters that have been circulating,’ Regan pressed, ‘which suggests that there might be some truth in it.’

Jake could sense Emily watching him steadily and prayed this wasn’t going to cause more friction between them. ‘I really couldn’t say,’ he said. ‘They got back together. I hoped, for her sake, she’d made the right decision.’

‘I gather from your frown that you don’t approve?’ Regan commented.

Jake hadn’t realised he was frowning. ‘It’s not my place to approve or disapprove,’ he said, with a short smile. ‘I have to remain impartial. Michael Jameson is one of my patients too.’

DS Regan arched an eyebrow curiously.

‘I can’t say more,’ Jake said, holding her gaze. ‘Not unless I’m obliged to. I’m sure you understand.’

Regan conceded the point with a small nod. ‘We’ll be making further enquiries locally, obviously, trying to trace anyone she might have been involved with. A man driven by jealousy can just as easily be a lover as a husband, after all.’

‘Assuming it was a man,’ Jake suggested. ‘Also assuming it wasn’t an accident.’

‘Assuming both of those things.’ Regan smiled enigmatically. ‘I’m sorry, but I do have to ask … Rumour being what it is, I’m sure there’s no truth in it, but one or two people have speculated about whether you might have been involved with her.’

Jake glanced down and then