LITMIR.BIZ

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dignified. Besides, the tall trees lining the driveway cut a lot of the moonlight and the driveway was incredibly dark. Katie didn’t want to admit it, but she felt a bit shaky after seeing Mr Cole. A distraction was kind of welcome.

      ‘So, you’re a con man. I don’t think I’ve met a real-life one of those before.’

      ‘That’s a bit harsh. I gamble a bit, sometimes I win, sometimes I lose.’

      ‘But you hustled Oliver Cole?’

      ‘You wouldn’t be up in arms if you’d met him. I know it’s not classy to speak ill of the dead, but the guy was a dick.’

      ‘You said you hardly knew him.’

      Max looked sideways at her. ‘I’m a pretty good judge of character.’

      The driveway curved down to the main road. Katie thought that she’d feel fine once she was out of the damn trees. The dark tunnel made her feel claustrophobic.

      ‘So,’ Max said after a moment. ‘What do you think happened? I heard someone say heart attack.’

      The unwanted image of Mr Cole’s frozen face came back and Katie swallowed. He’d looked frightened. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. Nothing peaceful.

      Katie blinked away the image and said, ‘So, why are you travelling around? Don’t people usually go around, like, Venice and Paris and stuff? Not Wiltshire.’

      He laughed. ‘Not that kind of travelling. More of a road trip.’

      They’d reached the end of the driveway and were on the steep hill into town. The lights of Pendleford shone in the dark like a constellation. The river was a velvet black ribbon. Soon they were on a street with lamps and Katie felt herself relax. ‘A road trip on your own. Don’t you have any friends?’

      ‘Plenty.’ Max gave her a twisted smile, but didn’t say anything else.

      They’d reached the brightly lit streets of Pendleford. All was well and Katie felt silly for her moment of weakness. So, she’d seen a dead body and fainted. It was unsettling and more than a little embarrassing but no reason to go to pieces.

      ‘Well.’ Katie stuck out her hand. ‘It was nice to meet you.’

      ‘I’ll walk you home,’ Max said.

      ‘It’s not far,’ Katie said. ‘I’ll be fine. The Cosy Inn is down that way.’ She pointed in the opposite direction to her flat.

      ‘Are you sure? It doesn’t feel right to leave you on your own.’

      ‘Trust me, I’m perfectly safe in Pendleford.’ Everyone in town knew that she was Gwen Harper’s niece and half of them were terrified that she’d give them the evil eye. If she bumped into an idiot with a death wish or a clueless visitor, then she was covered with a home-made protection spell. Of course, she was bloody awful at spells, so she’d also armed herself with a practical option. Max was still hesitating, clearly torn over his misplaced ideas of chivalry. Katie pulled out her can of defence spray. ‘I have this. See?’

      Max took a step back and put his hands in the air. ‘Is that legal? I thought—’

      ‘It’s not the good stuff,’ Katie said. It was sticky spray, which had made her American friend, Alison, laugh for ten minutes after she’d explained that it shot goo, rather than pepper spray, but it said ‘Mace’ on the side in big letters. Plus UV-coloured goo had to be better than nothing. Especially if you aimed for the eyes.

      Max looked into the spray nozzle and took another step back. ‘I’m not going to win the “trustworthy” argument, am I?’

      ‘Not tonight,’ Katie said. She stuck out her hand again and he shook it. Katie tried not to notice how nice his hand was. Long fingers, knotty knuckles and the perfect size. It dwarfed her hand without seeming like a gorilla’s paw. ‘Nice to meet you, Max. Have a nice life.’

      He tilted his head back, appraising her. ‘You’re kind of cold, you know that?’

      The warm feelings she had been beginning to entertain fled. Why were the good-looking ones always such wankers? Katie sighed. ‘Why do men think women are being cold if they don’t fall at their feet?’

      ‘Okay, okay.’ Max turned away. ‘I’m going.’

      Katie watched him walk down the street. She told herself that she was making sure he was walking away, not going to follow her, but there was a part of her that just wanted to look at him one last time.

      Inside her flat, Katie kicked off her shoes and stripped off her tights with relief. She’d been planning to get into the shower, but the headache was pulsing behind her eyes now. She took a couple of paracetamol and stumbled to the bedroom. When she lay down, the room seemed to be spinning, which reminded her uncomfortably of the one and only time she’d got drunk. It wasn’t a good memory, but at least it pushed away the events of the evening. Katie closed her eyes and felt the adrenaline still running through her body, making her limbs tingle and her mind jump from one image to another. It was going to be a long night.

Chapter 3

      Katie kept on seeing Oliver Cole’s rigid face so, when she was finally dreaming and she found herself back in the upstairs corridor of The Grange, her hand reaching out to push open the door to The Yellow Room, she wasn’t particularly surprised. I can’t be entirely asleep. I’m dreaming, but I know I’m dreaming. Weird.

      She moved into the room, knowing that she was going to see the body lying on the floor, half on the thick wool rug and half on the polished boards. But she didn’t. He wasn’t there. She turned, very slowly it felt, and looked around at the room. Everything looked normal. There was a suitcase open on the bed and she moved towards it. Men’s stuff. Smart-looking trousers and neatly folded shirts. There was a book on the bedside table and a glasses case, a smudged water glass and a crumpled tissue. The toilet flushed and Katie looked towards the en-suite, suddenly feeling alarmed. Instinctively she wanted to hide; she felt guilty for being in this man’s room. Even though it wasn’t her fault. Even though it was a dream.

      She stepped to the wall, next to the en-suite door so that when it opened it swung close to her face. Oliver Cole, alive and well, walked towards the bed. He was a bulky man and taller than she remembered. Of course, she’d only really seen him lying down. He started to undo his shirt and Katie panicked. She didn’t want to watch this man get undressed. She willed the dream to change, but it didn’t, so she stepped out from behind the door, heading for the exit as fast as her dream-slow legs could carry her.

      Oliver turned in surprise, his expression transforming into horror as he caught sight of her. Then his hands were going to his throat, he was gasping, his eyes bulging and filling with blood as the vessels burst. She knew that expression; she remembered seeing it. He was terrified. His mouth was open as if he was screaming but Katie couldn’t hear anything. Her own throat was hurting as if in sympathy and, suddenly, she was awake. In her flat. In her bed. Her hands clenched into fists and her breathing ragged as if she’d been running.

      The sun was streaming through her curtains and it was already well past nine.

      *

      After several cups of coffee, Katie dragged herself up the hill to work. The Grange was Pendleford’s nicest hotel. It was set on the outskirts, high above the town as if looking down on it. As it was a seventeenth-century manor house, it probably was. It looked just the same as always in the bright sunlight; there was no sign that anything untoward had happened the night before. Katie went around the back of the hotel and found Anna propping open the kitchen door with a catering-sized tub of cooking oil.

      ‘Oh, my God, I heard about last night.’ Anna hugged Katie quickly. ‘Are you okay?’

      ‘Fine. I’m fine,’ Katie said.

      ‘Everyone’s talking about it,’ Anna said. ‘Although watch out for

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