Page 51 of Death Kiss

My interest rises, and I hate that even in bed with a beautiful woman, the reporter side of me can’t fully disengage. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Sam was so sweet to me. Spoiled me. But there always felt like part of him was switched off, kind of inaccessible. Not just the physical stuff, but almost like if I got too close, it made him freeze.’

Seeing the way he’d looked at Pete in that picture, I can imagine why that might be. Survivors cope in different ways, and one of those is to freeze up when intimacy presents itself in future. It’s not proof of anything, but it’s another potential clue.

I stroke her hair and breathe gently, hoping my silence will keep her talking. It’s a bit shitty to use that tactic against her, but it’s one that works more often than not.

‘Plus, he was so weirdly obsessed with my brother. He never even met him.’ Her words unlock a spot deep in my brain, and a thousand questions pour out. I don’t voice them all, because I don’t want her to get protective again.

‘Obsessed, how?’ I ask, hoping it sounds non-committal.

‘He asked me a lot of questions about him. What he’s like. Where he lives. What he’s into.’

‘And they’d never met? That is weird.’

‘I kind of wondered if Sam was into guys. He just wasn’t like a lot of men I’ve dated. At first it felt like a good thing, but in hindsight…’ she trails off, her fingers grazing over my nipple in a terribly distracting way.

So Sam was weirdly obsessed with a man he’d supposedly never met, and connected to the other guys on my board. Was Liam connected to them too? If so, he could be in danger.

‘He didn’t ask about him that last week, though. Good thing too as Liam and Kat disappeared into some sort of freak sex cocoon for a few days. I didn’t even know they were dating then. By the time I saw them after Sam was gone, they’d been at it so hard they looked almost malnourished. Kat thankfully kept the details to a minimum, because ew.’ Ellie scrunches up her nose before laughing.

I’ve had plenty of sex in my life, but never have I shagged so hard I forgot to eat.

Not to mention an unreliable alibi. Kat didn’t like Sam. Sam was obsessed with Liam. Liam dated Kat. Sounds like a spaghetti bowl’s worth of coincidences.

But there’s nothing concrete there either.

I need to find a connection between Liam and Sam.

A kernel of guilt bites when Ellie wriggles up and kisses me. Those perfect, sweet lips of hers are so insistent already.

The case can wait.

And with Ellie, maybe I’ll prove that you can shag so desperately that hunger fades. If any woman can make me feel that, it’s this one.

Abandoning my work for a bit, I pull her on top of me and set about making her forget all about Sam. And Kat. And everything but the pursuit of pleasure.

TWENTY-THREE

KAT

Darkness blankets the cabin as I approach. It’s rural enough that I don’t fear neighbours catching me. There’s not a soul for miles. The perfect place for a wanker to have as an abuse cabin.

Hugh Everly is a judge. A fucking judge. As well as his own crimes, how many others has he helped to either cover up or be lenient on? We’ve all seen the headlines with people getting off insanely lightly for a horrific crime. Are guys like Hugh responsible for that?

Grime collects on my gloved fingertips as I search around the door for a key. I’m hoping he’s left one hidden somewhere. If this place is used like I expect it to be, there’s probably a way to let his pals in without his presence.

As far as I can tell, Hugh comes up here most weekends. Hopefully this weekend. I’ll be here, and I intend to kill this fucker. Whatever sympathy or guilt I had about killing is gone. It could be the rage from Liam’s betrayal talking, but it feels much deeper. A burning need for these men to pay with hot blood and terrified screams.

My fingers graze metal under an ugly little gnome—as far as I can tell in the dark—and I grin. Not so smart, Mr Judge.

I viewed the place in the light earlier and couldn’t see any cameras or sensors. It would be a bit wild to have cameras, unless you want to blackmail your friends, I guess. And seeing as the moral depth of these guys isn’t even puddle-deep, I had to check.

The door gives easily, swinging inward to show the most unassuming country cottage. A sage-green range cooker sits in the middle, flanked by pine everything. Table, chairs, cabinets, window frames. Just a sea of orangish wood.

Looks right out of a nineties Country Life. On a much smaller scale, mind you.

Picture perfect.