She probably shouldn’t have anything to drink today, not after last night, but a Sunday roast really wasn’t complete without a glass of red wine, in her opinion. Toots was still running ahead so she quickened her pace. Already breathless from walking up the hill on slightly uneven ground, she called out, ‘Toots! Here, girl!’
Obediently, Toots returned to Marissa’s side and was rewarded with pats and whispered endearments. But Toots’s body was tense, her muscles longing to run and expend some of that seemingly inexhaustible energy. After Marissa’s clap, Toots took off again, bounding up the grassy slope.
There was a man off to their right walking a Jack Russell, but apart from them, it was just her and Toots on the hill now, surrounded by grass, trees and a big, open blue sky.
Partway up the hill, Marissa paused and turned to look down at the city of Lincoln. The cathedral dominated the landscape, and the sun’s rays caught it in a way that made the stonework appear to glow.
She took a deep breath and then turned back, continuing her walk up the hill towards the memorial spire and the International Bomber Command Centre.
Though she walked Toots on the common every weekend, she hadn’t yet visited the centre. She kept meaning to go – it was one of those things on her to-do list that she never seemed to get around to. It must have been open for nearly a year now. She decided to take a look next weekend, when hopefully she wouldn’t feel quite so queasy.
A sharp wind blew from the east, and she shivered.
Tugging her lightweight jacket tighter around her body, she quickened her pace after Toots. Telling herself she didn’t really need to get right to the top of the hill today, she picked a spot near a cluster of trees where she’d turn around and make her way back down. That would be quite enough exercise for a Sunday. She was looking forward to relaxing with a glass of wine and her oven-ready roast.
‘Toots!’ she called out, noticing the dog was roaming a little too far, but the wind whipped away her words and Toots kept galloping determinedly towards a group of trees.
Marissa sighed. Had Toots heard and purposely ignored her? Usually well-behaved, the dog had a stubborn streak at times, and perhaps having sensed Marissa was planning a shorter version of their usual walk, was determined that wasn’t going to happen. Sometimes she was convinced Toots thought she was the boss in their relationship.
Muttering under her breath, Marissa followed the dog and looked up just in time to see her black tail disappear into the trees.
She frowned. That certainly wasn’t on their usual route. They didn’t go into the woods. Well, they weren’t woods really, just a few trees, but as a woman walking a dog on her own, Marissa tended to keep to open areas, those popular with other dog walkers. It was a sad state of affairs that she had to worry about such things, but in this day and age it paid to be careful.
Feeling slightly irritated with Toots, she entered the copse. Now that she was out of the sunshine, the chill of the afternoon crept over her. A shiver ran down her spine.
‘Toots!’ she shouted in a tone that meant she was not messing about.
Despite having a mischievous side, Toots was on the whole obedient and usually returned when Marissa called her, but this time there was no sign of the dog happily trotting towards her.
She turned, nervously scanning the trees. She was alone. There was no sign of Toots.
Tentatively, she took a few more steps into the woods. ‘Toots! If you don’t come here, there will be no doggy treats for you this afternoon,’ she grumbled, as she walked into the dappled sunlight shining between the leaves of a huge beech tree.
She called for the dog again, and this time heard a bark in response. She turned to face the direction of the bark, and in the dim woodland light, among a cluster of fading bluebells, she could just about make out the familiar sight of Toots wagging her tail.
‘There you are!’ Marissa said with exasperation. ‘Come here now, otherwise I’ll put you back on the lead.’ She waggled it in warning, but Toots ignored her, focusing on a spot of ground, scratching it with her front paws.
Melissa felt her stomach drop. Oh no. Not again. Toots had probably discovered some poor dead or injured animal. Last time it had been a dead baby squirrel, and the time before that, an injured crow.
She stomped through the wooded area, ordering Toots to leave whatever it was alone. She stopped abruptly when she got a better look at what was lying on the ground in front of the dog.
It wasn’t an animal.
Melissa clamped a hand to her mouth and used her other hand to pat down her jacket, trying to locate her mobile phone.
There was a man lying on the ground in front of Toots. He must have collapsed here, maybe he’d had a heart attack . . . She’d taken a first-aid course, years ago, but her knowledge was hazy now. Was she supposed to put him in the recovery position? No, she had to check his airway was clear first . . .
Marissa had pulled out her phone and pressed 999 on the touchscreen before she realised that the man was beyond help. She stopped a couple of feet away from Toots, looking down in horror at the man’s twisted body. Blood, cracked and dried now, coated his forehead and had soaked into the earth, making it look black. His skin had a deathly grey tinge.
She didn’t need a medical degree to know he most certainly hadn’t died of a heart attack.
She grabbed Toots by her collar, dragging the dog away. Whoever this poor man was, he’d been viciously killed. With a shaking hand, she lifted the mobile to her ear and waited for the call to connect, unable to tear her eyes away from the terrible sight. When a female voice answered, Marissa calmly reported what she’d found.
Only when she’d finished talking did she feel the weight of vomit in her throat. Dropping her phone, she fell to her knees and retched.
CHAPTER TWO
Karen Hart wafted away an annoying fly as she stepped out of the conservatory into her garden. Today was going well. It was the first time since her husband and daughter had died that she’d hosted a barbecue. In the past she’d found it too hard, a harsh reminder of the two people who were missing from her life. But this afternoon had been a happy occasion, and she was pleased with how she’d coped. Not that they were banished from her mind. No, she could picture them clearly. Josh wearing his ridiculous chef’s apron, insisting on making a special spice blend for his homemade burgers. Tilly eating a sausage in a bun, up and down like a yo-yo, unable to sit still for a second. Memories were everywhere.
Her brother-in-law, Mike, had offered to grill the meat, and Karen had gratefully accepted. She’d made a couple of salads, some spicy rice and garlic bread, and they’d all eaten until they were fit to burst.
Everyone was trying to make the afternoon as easy as possible for her.
Her niece, Mallory, shrieked with pleasure as she chased her grandad down the garden, squirting him with a water pistol. It was impossible not to notice the similarities between Tilly and Mallory. The curve of Mallory’s cheek, the stubborn way she set her jaw when she didn’t get her own way, the sun-kissed hair. She was so like Tilly that in unguarded moments it stole Karen’s breath away.
She blamed the bright sunlight for the tears that threatened to spill.
‘Silly old fool,’ Karen’s mother muttered, leaning back in the garden chair and loosening her floral chiffon scarf. ‘He’ll do himself an injury running around like that.’ But she smiled fondly as she spoke.