It was Fiona, the woman she had talked to at the Secret Garden elite sex party the night before.
Oh God! What have I done? I feel terrible.
‘What happened?’ Ruth groaned as she sat up in bed and realised that she was starting to feel sick.
Fiona, still completely naked, strode across the room to a table and lifted up a jug full of red liquid.
‘Bloody Mary?’ she asked, as she poured herself a glass.
Ruth squinted and tried to focus. ‘What?’
‘You should have one. You’ll feel much better, darling,’ Fiona chortled as she drank. ‘I have no intention of going anywhere today without some more alcohol in my system.’
‘How did I get here?’ Ruth asked. She hadn’t had this kind of morning anxiety since her clubbing days in London in the 90s.
‘You insisted that you were coming back with me. Don’t you remember?’ Fiona chuckled.
‘No. Sorry. Where am I?’ Ruth groaned.
Fiona gestured to the vast, exquisite hotel room. ‘We’re in the Dorchester, darling. Can’t you tell?’
Oh God. She’s really quite annoying in the cold, sober light of day.
‘Why did I want to come back here?’ Ruth questioned.
As Fiona strode across the room again, she gave Ruth a cheeky smile. ‘Why do you think?’
I had sex in a drunken blackout? Ruth thought, full of self-loathing. What is wrong with me?
‘So, we err ...’ she mumbled, now scanning the floor for her clothes.
‘Shagged? Not really. Played around a bit and then you passed out.’ Fiona started to get dressed into jeans and a jumper. ‘You seemed far more interested in talking about Jamie.’
Jamie? Is she talking about Jamie Parsons?
Not only was Jamie Parsons the man who ran the Secret Garden sex parties, he was also the man that Ruth was convinced had something to do with the disappearance of her partner Sarah in 2013. That’s why she had travelled to London in the first place.
‘Jamie Parsons?’ Ruth asked.
‘Jamie. Yes, Jamie Parsons,’ Fiona said, pulling a jumper over her head.
‘You know Jamie Parsons?’
‘Oh dear, Ruth. You really were hammered last night. I told you about five times that Jamie is my brother,’ she said, with a withering smile.
Ruth had no idea how to play this. She had been so drunk that she had no recollection of anything they had talked about.
For God’s sake Ruth, you really are a bloody idiot!
‘Right, yes, of course,’ Ruth said, not wanting to admit she had no memory of it.
‘I told you that I’m meeting him for lunch today in Kensington. You’re more than welcome to join us.’
I’m not in a fit state to do anything.
‘Thank you, but I’d better be heading home.’ Ruth started to get dressed. ‘Can I have your number?’
Fiona smiled and scribbled it on a napkin from the table. ‘Of course. Here it is.’
Ruth wiggled on her shoes, then walked over and took the napkin. ‘Thanks.’
‘I live in Bucks, but I’m in town a lot. And you live in North Wales, if you can remember that?’ Fiona giggled.
‘Yes, just about. And thanks for looking after me.’
‘My pleasure. I’m pretty sure that we’ll be meeting again, Ruth,’ Fiona said knowingly.
With her phone in her hand, Ruth had a thought.
‘Did I show you any photos on my phone last night?’
Fiona had gone over to grab her small suitcase. ‘No. I don’t think so.’
Ruth opened up a picture of Sarah and showed it to her. ‘Do you recognise her?’
Fiona squinted for a moment. ‘No.’
‘Are you sure? Can you look again?’ Ruth said with an urgency that she could see had puzzled Fiona.
Fiona raised an eyebrow and looked again for a few seconds. ‘Okay ... actually, yes. I haven’t seen her in years. Used to come to the parties. In fact, I think she had a thing with my brother. Sarah. That was it. Sarah.’
Oh my God.
Ruth’s stomach lurched. Fiona corroborated what she had suspected about Sarah attending the Secret Garden parties on a regular basis.
‘Did you know her back then?’ Ruth asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
‘Yes, a bit.’ Fiona glanced at her watch. ‘Fuck, I’m running late.’
‘When was the last time you saw her?’
‘I don’t know. A few years ago, darling. Does it matter?’ She kissed Ruth full on the lips. ‘Call me. I mean it.’
‘Please. It does matter. How long?’
‘Bloody hell, Ruth. Three or four years ago at a guess. Maybe less,’ she said with a huff.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. Look, I’ve got to go,’ Fiona snapped.
Ruth watched as she headed for the door and swept out of the room.
But Sarah went missing seven years ago.
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Publication date February 2021
The Menai Bridge Killings
A Ruth Hunter Crime Thriller #Book 8
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AUTHOR’S NOTE
Although this book is very much a work of fiction, it is located in Snowdonia, a spectacular area of North Wales. It is steeped in history and folklore that spans over two thousand years. It is worth mentioning that Llancastell is a fictional town on the eastern edges of Snowdonia. I have made liberal use of artistic licence, names and places have been changed to enhance the pace and substance of the story.
The Solace Farm Killings: A Snowdonia Murder Mystery (A DI Ruth Hunter Crime Thriller Book 7) Page 24
