Lucy had said there was somebody inside him who wanted her dead.
He couldn’t see it in his eyes. He turned his head towards the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the intruder while he wasn’t looking directly at himself.
Nothing.
He went downstairs.
‘Thanks,’ he told Reynolds.
‘Will you be OK?’
Never, thought Jonas, and said that he would.
Jonas remembered how to say goodbye and held out his hand. Reynolds shook it, looking suddenly tearful. He leaned forward and pulled Jonas into a clumsy embrace, slapping his back awkwardly.
‘We’ll get him, Jonas,’ he said vehemently. ‘Don’t you worry. We’ll get him.’
No, thought Jonas. You won’t.
Acknowledgements
Many thanks to Gill Bauer and Simon Cryer for being my first and best readers.
Also to Sarah Adams, Marysue Rucci and Stephanie Glencross for their invaluable editorial input, and my agent, Jane Gregory, for her support and boundless enthusiasm.
If you would like to know more about the strange world explored by
www.belindabauer.co.uk
Belinda Bauer grew up in England and South Africa. She has worked as a journalist and screenwriter and her script
