Contents
Are you a thriller seeker?
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Another Place
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Also by Malcolm Hollingdrake
Hobeck Books – the home of great stories
Chapter 1
The smooth, brindle coat beneath her neck was reassuring and the rise of Tico’s chest comforting. The tranquil setting of the Freshfield sand dunes, protected from the wind that seemed to blow constantly off the Irish Sea, brought quiet to a busy world. Even here she could not subdue the gnawing doubt that had attacked her since making the decision to move. Promotion, just how important was it? It was the question that rolled through her mind like a constant, encroaching tide.
April Decent had always been committed and determined to rise swiftly through the ranks. She was focused on developing her police career even if it meant not settling in any place for very long. Moving counties was, she had thought, of little consequence until now. Her two degrees, bolstered by the police policy supporting positive discrimination in order to see more female officers rise to supervisory ranks, contrived to see her in this position of flux.
She knew that she could have remained in Bradford with Clarkson, her boss, and the team for a number of years, not only being challenged but also contributing significantly. She also realised that DCI Clarkson and DI David Taylor were a formidable team, and one that would remain so for many years to come, after all, Clarkson was a wonderful leader allowing his officers to work both independently and as a unit. Taylor’s recent promotion had backed her into a professional cul-de-sac. Even though she had been in the force for a number of years, she had never before felt more secure and needed. Whether that was because she filled a niche left by a trusted female officer or that she offered certain skills, she would never know. What she did realise was that for the first time in a long while, moving on was going to be more difficult than she could ever have imagined.
After speaking with a number of high-ranking officers, she had found out that Clarkson had been the instigator. He had encouraged her to complete the application. She had comfortably achieved the Constable to Inspector fast track promotional process and she knew that she might have to play the role of a DI for at least two years. Her career had taken her from Leeds to Bradford and now here to Merseyside.
She focused now on the white cloud that contrasted with the deep blue of the sky, a formation that would not have looked out of place on a child’s painting. It blocked the sun allowing April to gaze directly at it, to investigate its curved peaks and valleys. Razor-sharp rays burst from different areas along the cumulus edge to become bright, accurate triangles that search-lit the sea below. The soft sand felt warm to the touch as she scooped up a handful and let it fall through her fingers, like time passing.
Tico’s back leg twitched and April lifted her head and stared reassuringly at the dozing greyhound. She recalled the first time they had met. He was a rescue dog, his racing days had been declared over and it could very well have been the end for him. Little did she know then that they would become so close. She chuckled to herself as she remembered her then police partner, David Taylor, refer to him as a cross between a dog and a donkey. She gently tugged his ear and he yawned in response.
‘You’re just a soft lump, Tico Decent!’ She paused, the anxiety returning. ‘Have I done the right thing, Tico? Have I gone from the excitement of Team Clarkson to some place where I might be way out of my depth?’
The dog turned, looked at her, licked her hand, yawned a second time and returned his head back down on the sun-warmed sand. He always seemed so understanding. A sudden flash of coloured light penetrated her peripheral vision as a kite came into view, its tail, a collection of bow-tie ribbons, streaming and dancing in the fresh onshore breeze. Its aerial jig accompanied by laughter, a child’s cries of excitement and wonder. Lifting her head for a clearer view she realised she could mope no longer. Standing, she stretched, her eyes focused on the kite’s aerial ballet before collecting Tico’s ball and throwing it hard against the wind. Having the appearance of a Star Wars AT-AT Walker; Tico reluctantly climbed onto his stilt-like legs, stiff and temporarily unsure, before he shook off the sand that had adhered to his coat. Lunging himself into the fresh air from the high dune, he headed after the ball and onto the extent of the beach below with newfound elegant grace that only greyhounds seem to demonstrate.
The small cottage April had rented since arriving in Merseyside sat away from the main conurbations. It was an oasis of peace and calm for her. She had viewed apartments in Southport and Liverpool, but none were suitable for Tico and neither did they offer the seclusion she needed. A chance meeting led to her finding this rental property
