Eyes of Glass: The most chilling domestic suspense novel you will read this year. by Gemma Metcalfe & Joe Cawley

Author:Gemma Metcalfe & Joe Cawley [Metcalfe, Gemma & Cawley , Joe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: SpellBound Books
Published: 2023-09-27T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-One

Lyra

After defrosting in a steaming-hot bath, I change into a pair of ripped jeans, throw on a Nirvana hoodie and head over to the main house for dinner.

Bill is sat on the porch in a wicker chair, reading Reagan’s America. No surprises there. Spotting me, he places the book face down on his lap and stares as I take the half-dozen steps up to the house. I make a face at him, a greeting of sorts, though I’m certain he must detect that I can’t abide him.

I’m surprised when he gestures to the adjacent chair. ‘If you have a moment.’

I sit down, expecting him to start talking but he just stares at me like some creepy oil painting. I crack my knuckles out of awkwardness, which thankfully encourages him to speak.

‘You’ll get arthritis you know.’

I shrug. ‘Is there something you wanted to speak to me about?’

He takes a deep breath, his brows meeting as he frowns, though his forehead remains smooth. ‘Lyra, did Marie ever mention our previous housekeeper to you?’

I swallow hard. Shit. Has he spoken to Gloria? ‘No. I don’t think so.’

He studies me, gauging whether I’m telling the truth.

‘Why do you ask?’

‘Nothing. It’s not important.’

I wait for him to elaborate but he doesn’t. I want to push him on the issue, but I doubt he’d give me anything of substance, so I don't bother. ‘Where’s Chloe?’ I ask, wondering if she’s calmed down after her outburst at the beach. Did she really orchestrate the whole thing to gain insight into her mother’s final moments? Surely nobody could be that sick.

‘In her room,’ answers Bill. ‘Would you go upstairs and tell her dinner will be ready at eight-thirty? Tell her I’m making her favourite.’

My eyebrows nearly ping off my face. ‘You’re cooking?’

‘Well, Marie is sick and I’m not totally inept, you know.’ He smiles, which in itself is an oddity. ‘I cooked for Dee plenty when she was… you know...’ He looks away. ‘She loved my spaghetti and meatballs.’

I’d almost feel sorry for him if he wasn’t a complete arsehole.

‘So, what is Chloe’s favourite dish?’ I ask, attempting small talk. ‘What delicacy are we in store for tonight, Chef Warren?’ Chef Warren, seriously?

‘Lobster.’

‘Nice. Not easy to cook though, I imagine.’

Bill smirks in a way that barely shows his teeth. ‘I can show you if you like? Do you want to hear how they scream when you drop them in to boil?’

I shift in my seat as he holds my gaze a lot longer than feels comfortable.

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