“So… what if they used Callum and Daisy’s names as search terms? Plus you left your first name and somehow that’s led them to find your Facebook page, maybe to that picture you posted last weekend? Or it could be any recent post that mentions their names.”
“But that doesn’t tell them where weare. I’d never post anything about our location, our address.”
She’s frowning hard now, two vertical lines between her eyebrows that normally mean she’s about to shift from defense to attack. Maybe it’s the low, angry throb at the back of my head, the bite of the new stitches, the lack of sleep, the vending-machine food at the hospital, but I keep going anyway.
“I know, I know. Just trying to figure things out.” I stare at the ceiling, trying to drag my thoughts into some kind of order. “What if… they’d found your Facebook profile and really dug into it, checked every post you liked? Cross-referenced with any internal shots of the house you’ve posted on your feed? Then done some on-the-ground work to identify this specific address.”
My wife is shaking her head.
“The camera in the birdbox, the cameras in the house, they werealreadyhere when we moved in. Somebody already knew something about this house.”
I rub my temples, at the throbbing headache that has been a constant jagged hum since last night.
“Of course,” I say. “Sorry. You’re right. Feels like my head is full of cement today.”
“You need paracetamol and rest, Adam.” She puts her hands on my shoulders, her expression softening again. “You need tosleep. You had a lucky escape last night and you need to recover. Why don’t you go up now? I’ll sort the kids out.”
I nod, my eyes sagging with fatigue.
“Just got something else I need to do.”
“Don’t be long.”
She kisses me on the cheek and goes back into the lounge.
I unlock my phone and open the online shopping page I’d found before, checking that next-day delivery was still available. Double-checking all the details I could remember to make sure they tallied with the watch I’d found upstairs.
Rolex Explorer
Genuine replica wristwatch
A perfect copy of the real thing for only £99—bespoke engraving available too!
I study the image one last time and click “Buy Now.”
51
MONDAY
Jess brings me tea and toast in bed in the morning, insisting I take it easy. She leaves it as late as she can before driving Leah to school, telling me she’ll try to finish early today. Even though we both concede that the kids will probably be safer at school than at our house. The pain from my head injury has receded to a low background hum, kept at bay by the painkillers. The bruising has started to bloom blue and black beneath the skin of my chest and back, the wrist sprain settled to a dull ache that flares every now and then when I take the sling off.
I drop Callum and Daisy at St. Jude’s Primary, watching them until they’re safely inside their classrooms, then head back to my car and drive straight into town. On the way, I dial Maxine’s number, but it goes straight to voicemail. She hasn’t responded to any of my messages since Saturday.
My phone buzzes as I’m parking up in the multi-story on Fletcher Gate.Finally. I snatch it up, expecting to see a reply from Maxine. But it’s not from her—it’s from the unknown number, the first time they’ve been in contact in a few days.
A needle of ice slides down my back as I read the message.
Next time we bring petrol and matches. Or you can return our property to us. Your choice.
I swallow hard, pushing back a sudden image of the house in flames with my family trapped inside. I resist the urge to respond in anger, or fear: that currency is no longer any good here.
I’m sorting it. Need a little time.
I lock the car and head for the stairs. The car park is busy, and I’ve ended up on the lower half of level six, where almost every bay is already taken. Above me and to the right, cars are crawling slowly along the higher tier of this level, engine noise growling off the low concrete. Doors slamming, cars beeping as they’re locked, drivers hurrying away. A figure catches my eye further down the row. Because I’m below him I can only see his upper body, but I can tell that he’s tall and heavy, graying hair and beard, and a dark gray coat…
There is a cold shock of déjà vu as I realize I’ve seen him before.
The General Cemetery on Saturday, just before I met Maxine.
