The Last Time She Died: A totally unputdownable crime thriller with a mind-blowing twist (Blake and Byron Thrillers Book 1) by Zoe Sharp

Author:Zoe Sharp [Sharp, Zoe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2021-10-20T00:00:00+00:00

Forty-Two

Flint was not, as his sister feared, soaking wet and in danger of hypothermia. Most of the time he’d been missing from the house, he’d been at the old stables through the wood, working his way through the bottle of whisky he’d taken with him.

Gideon Fitzroy had a taste for the good stuff and he didn’t buy anything less than ten-year-old single malts. The old man himself would probably be rolling in his grave, Flint considered, if he could see his good whisky being swigged from a dusty plastic cup he’d found in the back of the old Land Rover.

‘Well, t’hell with’im an’all,’ Flint mumbled.

Every time he swallowed, he added another layer of cushioning over the anxiety threatening to crush him. He knew he shouldn’t have gone back to the casino in Manchester. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been there before – lost heavily there before – and owed them more than he could afford. And he was well aware of the penalties if it happened again.

He’d only got out of that mess unscathed by the skin of his teeth. And now he was back in the hole again. Just as deep, if not deeper. He was prepared to admit he’d been careless, in the weeks since Gideon’s death, safe in the knowledge that his erstwhile boss was no longer in a position to disapprove of his habits, and with the man’s money dangling in front of him.

Dangling out of reach, as it turned out.

If Flint cursed anything, it was the fact that none of them had made any moves to have Blake officially declared dead before now. Indeed, why hadn’t Gideon done it himself?

He had ten years, for God’s sake. It’s not like he didn’t know…

And when Virginia had finally set the ball rolling, the first thing they were obliged to do was put a notification of intent in the newspaper covering the area of the would-be deceased’s last-known address. None of them had suspected for a moment that anyone would come forwards in response to the discreet announcement.

Or that she’d be convincing enough to get this far…

She’d even consented without a qualm to the DNA test demanded by the solicitor, which made Flint nervous. That should have been the clincher – the thing that made her run for the hills.

He couldn’t quite figure it out.

After all, Blake was dead.

Definitely, definitively, dead.

He’d helped to bury the damned body himself.

So how the hell was she back at Claremont, sleeping in her old bedroom, and causing such mayhem?

He poured another slug of whisky, disappointed to find he was down to the dregs. He let go of the bottle, watched it drop and was mildly surprised when it rolled away across the brick floor without smashing.

‘Hah, can’t never catcha break – break, geddit?’ And he giggled at his own joke, stumbling as he turned away.

As he did so, he caught a flash of movement beyond the open doorway.

Not just movement, but something red.

A figure in a red jacket, with a hood – moving fast.

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