by Carol Wyer
The Sleepover
An absolutely gripping crime thriller
Carol Wyer
Books by Carol Wyer
The DI Natalie Ward series:
The Birthday
Last Lullaby
The Dare
The Sleepover
The DI Robyn Carter series:
Little Girl Lost
Secrets of the Dead
The Missing Girls
The Silent Children
The Chosen Ones
Other titles:
Life Swap
Take a Chance on Me
Mini Skirts and Laughter Lines
Surfing in Stilettos
Just Add Spice
Grumpy Old Menopause
How Not to Murder Your Grumpy
Grumpies On Board
Love Hurts
Available in Audio
The DI Natalie Ward series:
The Birthday (Available in the UK and the US)
Last Lullaby (Available in the UK and the US)
The Dare (Available in the UK and the US)
The DI Robyn Carter series:
Little Girl Lost (Available in the UK and the US)
Secrets of the Dead (Available in the UK and the US)
The Missing Girls (Available in the UK and the US)
The Silent Children (Available in the UK and the US)
The Chosen Ones (Available in the UK and the US)
Contents
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
Chapter 37
Epilogue
Hear More from Carol
Books by Carol Wyer
A Letter from Carol
The Birthday
Last Lullaby
The Dare
Little Girl Lost
Secrets of the Dead
The Missing Girls
The Silent Children
The Chosen Ones
Life Swap
Take a Chance on Me
Acknowledgements
One
Saturday, 30 June – Late Afternoon
Cathy Curtis fished the teabag from her mug and tossed it into the sink, where it splattered onto the already brown-stained chrome. She’d clear it away later; for now she wanted nothing more than half an hour’s peace and quiet.
Charlie was in the bedroom he shared with his brother, Seth, no doubt glued to some video game, controller hot and sticky in his hands. Roxy was still sulking in hers. She’d been there most of the day. Cathy felt a pang of guilt. She’d not meant to be so hard on the girl but it was important she got her message across. Roxy was stubborn and single-minded, but on this occasion, Cathy had been forced to step in and dissuade her.
She poured the milk into the mug, ensuring the tea was good and milky, and took it with her into the sitting room, where she dropped onto the settee with a sigh. She kicked off her slippers and swung her legs up so she was almost lying down. Moments like this were rare. She was inevitably running around after one of her children or her partner Paul, who at times was more of a kid than the boys. She smiled at the thought. Paul was fine just as he was. He brought out the best in her.
The tea was sweet and perfect. Seth and Paul weren’t due back until much later so she’d probably watch some telly or catch up on a box set while they were out. Charlie wouldn’t come out of his room until it was time to eat, so once Roxy went out, she’d have the evening to herself. She cupped the mug and let her thoughts drift again. Roxy was growing up. They all were. Soon, they’d all have left the nest, like Oliver before them. A sensation like the twanging of a guitar string resonated in her chest. Soon it would be just her and Paul and there’d be endless afternoons like this, but she’d miss them – for all their noise and arguments, she’d miss them all.
Roxy appeared at the door in skinny jeans, a T-shirt and a green baseball cap that complemented her creamy skin and drew attention to her large hazel eyes.
‘Hey.’
Cathy looked up and gave her daughter a warm smile. Roxy would always be her little girl, no matter how old she got.
‘Sorry about the row earlier,’ said Roxy.
‘Me too. You okay about it?’
The girl nodded. ‘Yeah. You were right.’
Cathy put her mug on the floor and stood up, padding across the worn carpet to her daughter. ‘I know you didn’t want to be told what to do…’
The girl stopped her with a shake of the head. ‘No, you were bang on. I was being pig-headed. I don’t even think he likes me that much.’
Cathy wanted to contradict her and say of course he’d be interested in her. Who wouldn’t like her feisty, gorgeous daughter who had guts and determination and knew her own mind? But she didn’t want to encourage that particular relationship. Instead she brushed away a strand of dark hair that had stuck to Roxy’s cheek. ‘You all ready for Ellie’s?’ she asked, spotting the plastic bag propped by the door.
‘Yeah. You still cool about me going?’
‘Sure, why wouldn’t I be?’ Cathy knew the reason why, but she wasn’t going to argue again. They’d quarrelled enough for one day.
Roxy gave a shrug and the corners of her mouth lifted slightly. Cathy loved it when Roxy smiled. Her face transformed and her real beauty shone through.
‘Thanks.’
‘Got any plans for tonight?’ Cathy asked lightly.
‘Sit around in our pyjamas eating crisps and chocolate and watching Netflix,’ said Roxy with another grin.
‘Sounds like my ideal night.’
‘You want to join us?’ Roxy asked jokingly.
Cathy laughed. ‘I’ll pass. Maybe next time.’
‘You’re on. Okay, I’m off. See you, Mum.’
‘Have fun. Say hi to Ellie for me. Not seen her for a while.’ Cathy dropped a kiss on her daughter’s forehead, and when Roxy didn’t pull away she felt much better. Their spat had been forgotten.
Roxy looked up at her mother with clear eyes. ‘Bye, Mum. Catch you tomorrow.’ She lifted the plastic bag and Cathy accompanied her to the front door, where she stood and watched as her daughter left for a sleepover with her best friend, who only lived in the flats behind their own. The yard gate opened with a high-pitched squeal, and Roxy bounced through, hand raised in a farewell gesture. Cathy caught a final, ‘See you,’ as the girl disappeared from sight, and she went back inside, glad they’d patched things up between them.
She sat back down on the settee and lifted the remote control, ready to enjoy some time on her own. It was a thought she would live to regret.
Two
Sunday, 1 July – Early Morning
Urgent cries rang out as more glittering flames crackled along a distorted window frame and threatened to escape the building. An intense cascade spurted from the water cannon and quenched the inferno but Jamie Bull, the watch manager, the man in charge of the crew
, knew it was hopeless. The fire had taken a firm hold and ravaged the interior of the house, destroying everything in its path long before the firefighters had arrived at the stylish Victorian residence on the leafy street – one of the smartest in Armston-on-Trent. Neighbours had rung the fire brigade, panicked by the flashes and explosions and fearful for their own safety and properties. Several were currently huddled at a distance, behind the cordon, eyes wide as they observed the emergency services battle the blaze and attempt to bring it under control.
Jamie had seen enough infernos like this one to be sure there’d be nothing left of what had once been the owners’ personal sanctuary. It shook him to the core every time he picked his way through the debris and smouldering charcoal remains of a building to be reminded of what the house had been like. The small signs of normal life: a pushchair, a child’s toothbrush, a picture frame, plates and cups set up on a table – all the things taken for granted as part and parcel of everyday existence, melted into blackened tokens.
Worse still was when they found lifeless bodies. Jamie had been relieved to learn the property they’d been dousing for the last hour was owned and occupied by two brothers, Gavin and Kirk Lang, neither of whom had been at home when the inferno started. Gavin, a thirty-something-year-old with pale grey eyes and designer stubble, had arrived soon after the crew and now stood alone, some distance from the small crowd, with his mobile pressed to his ear, lips moving, as the twenty-five-strong crew continued to tackle the fire.
Jamie speculated about what could have caused such devastation. He knew the stats: in the UK, around 16,000 fires a year were due to faulty appliances. Maybe Gavin was checking with his brother to see if anything had been accidentally left plugged in. Jamie glanced at the man in dark trousers and a stylish black jacket with the collar pulled up against his neck; he seemed remarkably composed. For a brief moment their eyes locked and Jamie could see none of the usual signs of anguish he’d come across before in such cases. Gavin had already refused any assistance from the Fire and Emergency Support Service who’d arrived to offer practical and emotional support. He’d made alternative arrangements for the night and was now waiting to hear the firefighters’ verdict as to what might have caused the destruction of his home. In Jamie’s opinion the man was a little too calm, too aloof. His home and its contents had been annihilated and yet he exhibited no reaction to the huge loss – zilch. His thoughts were interrupted by one of the two crew managers, Floyd Haverstock.
‘It’s out, gaffer. We’re sure this time. We’ve checked the outside too. Okay to send in the teams?’ Floyd was referring to the officers in breathing apparatus.
Jamie nodded a response and watched as several men headed down the path.
With everything now under control, the last of the curious neighbours were trailing back into the comfort and security of their own homes. Jamie noticed nobody invited Gavin to join them or offered him any comforting words. He didn’t seem bothered by it. Jamie walked across to him.
‘Will they be long?’ Gavin asked, nodding in the direction of the firefighters who’d entered the house.
‘It depends on how bad it is. There will probably be structural damage so they might have to navigate around it.’
‘Reckon they’ll be able to identify how it started then?’ The voice was rough and at odds with the man’s appearance.
‘Yes. I can’t tell you how long it’ll take though.’ Sometimes it could take days to sift through the debris and locate the cause.
‘Can you work out if it was deliberate?’ Gavin appeared to want immediate answers.
‘The dog-handling team ought to be able to.’ West Midland Fire Investigations had arrived accompanied by Kai, a Belgian Shepherd, and his handler. ‘You’ll need to contact your suppliers as soon as possible – gas, water, electricity,’ he said helpfully.
Gavin nodded. ‘Already in hand,’ he replied.
Jamie nodded and moved away again. They’d needed three engines to douse the blaze and the firefighters were now clearing away equipment. The house had been soaked. Jamie didn’t need to go inside to imagine the chaos or inhale the stench – a mixture of smoke, soot and whatever had been burnt that entered deep into the olfactory system and never really went away. Even at home some nights, when he was watching television, Jamie could shut his eyes and smell it. Depending on the amount of damage, the owners would either have to gut the place and start again or get some heavy-duty cleaning equipment in. His money would be on starting all over again. He hoped the brothers were well insured. However, some things were simply irreplaceable.
Hearing his name being shouted, he looked up to see one of the longest-serving firefighters, Dan Higson, by the front door. He hastened across to him, half-expecting to hear that they’d discovered the appliance responsible for the damage, but as he drew up to the man and studied his solemn expression, a familiar gnawing began in his stomach. Dan shook his head gravely.
‘We’ve found a body,’ he said. ‘It’s unrecognisable.’
Three
Sunday, 1 July – Early Morning
DI Natalie Ward lifted her mobile phone and checked the display for the third time since she’d come to bed. It was half past four and, as usual, she was unable to sleep. She’d fallen asleep almost instantly when she’d gone to bed but been woken by loud music coming from a vehicle outside just after eleven thirty and she’d been awake ever since.
She ought to have slept like a log. It had been some time since she and her husband, David, had spent an afternoon alone together, but yesterday they’d both made a determined effort. The children, Josh, who’d be seventeen at the end of the month, and fourteen-year-old Leigh, had gone to Manchester with David’s father, Eric, and his girlfriend, Pam, giving her and David the opportunity to be alone and clear the air – air that was so stale it had almost suffocated her over the last few months.
It had been one of their better days. Since April, when Leigh had run away from home, it had been a rocky road and they still had a long way to go. Natalie didn’t hold David responsible for the incident but she was still struggling to accept that he had lied to her. David had claimed to be cured of a gambling addiction, but in the face of having no work, he’d returned to his bad ways; worse still, he had been more than economical with the truth.
She could have dealt with it all if only he’d been upfront about it, but the secrecy and deceit had been almost too much for her to handle. He’d lied to her even though he knew it would be the one thing she wouldn’t be able to forgive or tolerate.
Long ago, her sister Frances had lied to her. Brief snatches of the past rushed at her, threatening to drag her back there: the theft of her dying grandmother’s ring, the lies, the false accusations and her parents’ disappointment in Natalie when, in truth, she was blameless, and then the accident that took them before they could find out what had really happened and forgive her. She fought the memories until they receded back into the vaults of her mind where normally they remained locked away.
What trust there had been between David and her had been destroyed, and although Natalie had been putting on a brave face for the sake of her children, she couldn’t reconcile herself with what David had done.
The trip to the reservoir had been David’s call and a good one. They’d walked beside the huge expanse of water and watched two swans take off in noisy succession, wings beating rapidly against the water, causing vast ripples that grew in number until they splashed over the shoreline…
‘They’re like small, white aeroplanes,’ David comments as the duo depart.
Natalie agrees. The birds make an impressive sight as they rise majestically into the cobalt sky.
David faces her, eyebrows lowered as always when he has something serious to say. ‘It’s been good today. We needed this time together. We’ve not talked, Natalie. Ever since Leigh ran away, it’s like we’ve become strangers who share a living space. You’re rarely at home, and when you are, you’re nearly always doing something with th
e kids or you go to bed early or are too tired to talk. Neither of us talks about it. It’s the bloody elephant in the room.’
‘There’s nothing more to say.’
‘I admit I screwed up but I’m making amends.’
‘I know.’
‘This is driving me mad. I feel like you’re there but you aren’t. You’re there in person but unapproachable. We’ve lost that connection that made us who we were.’
‘You know who is to blame for that.’ The hurt on his face prevents her from laying into him.
He speaks softly. ‘How many more times do I have to say I’m sorry? I can’t explain how much I regret what happened and I am truly sorry.’
‘I know you are. I understand why you went to the bookies and weren’t at home when Leigh went missing. I’ve seen how unhappy you’ve been since you lost your job and the freelance translation work dried up. I understand it’s hard for you and that an addiction is hard to get over. I get it, David. I really do.’
