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  Gina Wilson is on the edge…

  Her dad has died in mysterious circumstances, and she is the only one convinced that something isn’t right. As she struggles to find the truth, Gina is plunged into a world far removed from the one she has known – a world of lies, crime and betrayal. A world she can’t run from…

  A dark and dangerous thriller with a harrowing secret at its heart, from the author of the award-winning The Truth About Celia Frost.

  For David, Stan, Archie and Sadie. The loves of my life.

  CHAPTER 1: THE LIFT

  CHAPTER 2: LIMBO

  CHAPTER 3: THE VERDICT

  CHAPTER 4: THE CONDOLENCES

  CHAPTER 5: THE ALLOTMENT

  CHAPTER 6: ENQUIRIES

  CHAPTER 7: THE DEPARTURE

  CHAPTER 8: THE COLD CALLER

  CHAPTER 9: THE APPOINTMENT

  CHAPTER 10: DECLAN

  CHAPTER 11: THE WANDERER RETURNS

  CHAPTER 12: THE RUNNER

  CHAPTER 13: THE DESTINATION

  CHAPTER 14: BEARING GIFTS

  CHAPTER 15: THE JOB SEEKER

  CHAPTER 16: THE MEETING

  CHAPTER 17: EATEN ALIVE

  CHAPTER 18: THE PASSENGERS

  CHAPTER 19: THE ATTENTIVE FRIEND

  CHAPTER 20: THE BUSINESS ASSOCIATE

  CHAPTER 21: THE JACKET

  CHAPTER 22: SOMETHING GOING DOWN

  CHAPTER 23: THE DATE

  CHAPTER 24: UNCLE STEVIE

  CHAPTER 25: QUALITY CONTROL

  CHAPTER 26: THE LOCK-IN

  CHAPTER 27: THE NIGHT WATCH

  CHAPTER 28: THE SURPRISE

  CHAPTER 29: THE DAY TRIP

  CHAPTER 30: TOUGH LOVE

  CHAPTER 31: KYLIE’S DATE

  CHAPTER 32: ALL AT SEA

  CHAPTER 33: SOMETHING IN THE AIR

  CHAPTER 34: THE CURIOUS HAPPENING

  CHAPTER 35: THE DESECRATION

  CHAPTER 36: CUSTOMER SERVICES

  CHAPTER 37: THE GUESSING GAME

  CHAPTER 38: CALL THE POLICE

  CHAPTER 39: HOLD BACK

  CHAPTER 40: THE UNEXPECTED GUEST

  CHAPTER 41: MISCARRIAGE OF JUSTICE

  CHAPTER 42: A TANGLED WEB

  CHAPTER 43: THE PURSUED

  CHAPTER 44: MAD LAD

  CHAPTER 45: TAKEN FOR A RIDE

  CHAPTER 46: THE DEAL

  CHAPTER 47: THE BRIDGE

  CHAPTER 48: FOR DAD

  CHAPTER 49: THE PERSISTENT CALLERS

  CHAPTER 50: SENTENCED

  CHAPTER 51: OVER A BARREL

  CHAPTER 52: FATHER’S DAY

  SNEAK PREVIEW OF THE TRUTH ABOUT CELIA FROST BY PAULA RAWSTHORNE

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Gina waved goodbye to her friends as she dashed from the shelter of the sports centre into the torrential rain. Nearing her dad’s car, she could see that he was engrossed in a conversation on his mobile.

  She reached the door of the Fiesta and lifted the handle, but it didn’t open. She tried the back door but all the snips were down, denying her access.

  Gina rapped on the window. “Dad! Let me in, will you? I’m getting soaked out here!”

  Without even looking at her, Martin Wilson raised a hand, signalling to Gina to wait. As he continued his call, Gina peered in at him, outraged. She watched the muscles in her father’s face tense; his expression was stony and then suddenly agitated as his lips formed rapid words that she couldn’t hear, his eyes flashed once towards her and then he was back in his conversation.

  Gina banged on the window, glaring at him. She squirmed as the rain began to trickle down the back of her tracksuit top; her trainers were soaking up the puddles like a sponge. Her thick black hair was plastered to her cheeks by the lashing rain. She watched her dad switch off his phone and look across at her, apologetically. He snapped the door open.

  “Thanks a lot!” Gina said sarcastically as she plonked herself down in the passenger seat. “Who were you on the phone to? Couldn’t you have just let me in? I nearly drowned out there.”

  “Sorry, love. It was business; I needed to concentrate.”

  “Well,” Gina said, “it doesn’t seem fair, you being all dry and warm, and me soaking.” She started to shake herself like a dog coming out of a lake, her long curls spraying her dad with water.

  Gina waited for his mock outrage, but instead her dad just gave a weak smile, put the headlights on and started up the engine.

  “You’re a right laugh tonight,” Gina said disappointedly. “Are you okay?”

  “It’s nothing. I’m just tired.”

  “Well, aren’t you going to ask me how I got on at training?”

  He shook his head, as if trying to clear it of some obstruction. “Yeah, of course. How did you get on?”

  “Well, I’m glad you asked because I’ve only gone and smashed my personal best!” Gina grinned with pride and looked at him expectantly.

  “Good,” her dad replied, without taking his glazed eyes off the illuminated road.

  “Good?” she said indignantly. “It’s a bit better than good. You should have been there to see me. You would have loved it. I ran the fifteen hundred in four minutes fifty. That’s seven seconds off my PB. Coach said he’s going to let me run for the county. He said, if I put in the work, I could easily make it into the under-sixteen squad.”

  When there was no answer, she shoved his arm. “Are you even listening to me?”

  “That’s great, Gina. Really great.” Her dad’s voice was monotone.

  “Yeah, but we’ll have to up our training, Dad,” she continued excitedly. “What do you reckon? Can you come out with me three times a week? I know things are busy at the warehouse and it’s getting dark about four, but maybe if you ask Uncle Tom, he’ll let you off early? He owes you loads of time – all those extra hours he has you doing.”

  “Umm,” her dad replied.

  “I thought you’d be chuffed,” Gina said. She felt deflated, but then her eye was caught by the large, rectangular box on the back seat of the car. She twisted round to investigate.

  “Wow!” Gina said, impressed. “Is this for Danny’s birthday? He’s been going on about wanting a tropical fish tank for ever. At least he’ll shut up now. Hey, Dad, the box is open, did you know? Have you checked everything’s in it?”

  There was no reply but Gina carried on regardless.

  “Well, I hope Danny doesn’t get bored of it after a few weeks. You know what he was like with the goldfish. He never fed it, then he’d panic and put a ton of fish flakes in. Ugh, remember that poor fish floating on the top of the bowl? It looked like someone had used a bike pump on it.”

  She stared at her dad’s blank face.

  “Why aren’t you listening?” she shouted in frustration. “You know Danny will probably kill any fish you put in there!”

  “Yeah,” he said, staring straight ahead. Gina wasn’t convinced that he was even focusing on the road. He seemed to be on autopilot, though it did cross her mind that right now her dad might agree to anything.

  “By the way, Dad,” Gina chirped sweetly, “you don’t mind if I go into town on Saturday with Becky and a few mates? We were thinking of going ice skating and then for a pizza. Is that all right? Maybe you could drop me off, and pick me up later? And maybe I could have a couple of weeks’ pocket money early – or better still, you could just give me the money. Go on, Dad, please?” She gave him a dazzling, toothy smile, but he still seemed a world away from her.

  Gina narrowed her eyes in concern. She leaned across and felt his forehead with the palm of her hand. “Well, you don’t feel too hot or anything, but you must be coming down with something. This is like sitting in a car with a zombie.”

  She fe
ll silent, her eyes focused on her dad, willing him to smile or speak, but the only sound was of the squeaking windscreen wipers and the hot air blasting around the car, fighting back the steam that was misting up the windows.

  Her dad indicated right at a sign for a no-through road.

  “Why are we going down here?”

  He didn’t answer.

  None of the street lamps, dotted along the cracked pavements, were working. They bumped slowly along the cobbles, past rows of derelict, boarded-up houses. Beyond, unseen in the darkness, was an old bridge over the railway line and a little way after that the street petered out.

  “Planet Earth, calling Dad.” She was trying to sound playful but tension riddled her voice. “You’ve gone the wrong way.”

  He pulled over onto the pavement, turning off the headlights but keeping the engine running.

  “What’s up? Is there something wrong with the car?” Gina asked.

  “No,” he said, looking into the blackness. “I just need to answer a call of nature.”

  “What! You’re going out in this, to have a wee? Can’t you just hold on till we get home?”

  “No…I can’t. You stay in the car, put the radio on, don’t go anywhere.”

  “Put the radio on? How long are you going to be?”

  But he didn’t answer. Instead he suddenly turned to her and clasped her hands between his callused palms.

  “I love you, Gina, you know that, don’t you?” he said earnestly, his eyes locked on hers.

  As she searched her father’s pensive face, she saw herself reflected in him more sharply than ever. She was looking at the same dark, feline eyes, the same thick, black eyebrows. Her skin was caramel, whereas his was a deep brown, but she’d inherited his bow-shaped mouth, his wide cheekbones and strong jawline. All the features that left people divided over whether Gina Wilson was unusually attractive or just the wrong side of handsome for a girl.

  Gina let out a nervous laugh. “Oh my God, Dad! What is wrong with you tonight? You’re freaking me out!”

  He gave Gina a weak smile. “I’m sorry. How about we go for a run tomorrow?”

  “Okay then,” she beamed. Wriggling her hands free, she noticed his palms were encrusted with dirt. She tutted. “Your hands are filthy and your overalls are even worse! Honestly, Dad, what are you like? Get going, will you? I want to get home.”

  He picked up his phone, put it in the pocket of his work overalls and opened the door to the driving rain.

  Gina watched as he was quickly consumed by the darkness. She pressed various buttons on the radio, hoping that music would shake off her unease. She found a song she liked and, slouching down in the seat, put her feet up on the dashboard and proceeded to untie her trainers and peel off her soggy socks. She wriggled her damp, puckered toes, letting the hot air dry them. Her hands beat out the rhythm of the song on her legs as the windscreen wipers swished back and forth like a frenetic metronome.

  She groaned, remembering that she had a science project due in the next day. She always waited until the last minute to get her homework done. Usually she’d panic and end up throwing herself on her dad’s mercy. He’d always give her a hand to look answers up and find all the worksheets she’d lost, but there was no way she could ask her dad to bail her out tonight, not when he was acting so weird. And there was no point asking her mum. Mum’s thoughts on the matter were very clear.

  “You’re too soft on her, Martin,” Clare would lecture. “Gina’s fifteen, not five. It’s her own fault if she leaves everything until the last minute. Just let her get into trouble. It’s the only way she’ll learn.”

  Another song started on the radio.

  “What’s he doing? He’s been ages.”

  Gina contemplated going to find him but now that she’d just got dry, she didn’t fancy venturing outside in the dark and the wet. Instead she leaned over to the steering wheel and pressed down on the horn, emitting two long blasts of protest. “Come on, Dad!” she pleaded.

  She slumped back in her seat, and heard her phone beep from inside her tracksuit pocket.

  That’ll be Mum wondering where we are.

  But it was Dad that flashed up on the screen. She clicked on the text and her stomach muscles clenched as she stared at the message.

  Forgive me. Dad

  She hit the button to silence the radio. “Dad?”

  Her eyes scanned the blackness outside as panic rose in her. She strained her ears but all she could hear was the squeak of the windscreen wipers and the rain pummelling the car. But then, seconds later, came the ear-piercing sound of train wheels, sparking and squealing along a track in a desperate attempt to stop.

  Gina sat on the sofa in the living room, her freezing body wrapped up in a duvet. She stared blankly at the uniformed officer sitting opposite her. He’d introduced himself as Constable Jason Rogers from the British Transport Police. Danny was hunched up in her dad’s armchair, pressing a cushion to his mouth to stifle his sobs. Her mum walked into the room carrying a tea tray. The cups and sugar bowl rattled as her shaking hands placed it down on the table.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Wilson,” the constable said, taking a mug.

  Gina’s mum sat next to her on the sofa. “This won’t take long, Gina.” Her voice trembled. “Constable Rogers just wants to ask you some questions.”

  Gina listened, unblinking, as the constable explained that he was helping to investigate her father’s death and that he needed to take a statement from her about what had happened earlier that evening.

  Gina recounted the details without a flicker of emotion, as if she was a journalist reporting the news. The constable scribbled furiously in his notepad. When she stopped talking, he thanked her and said that he’d leave them to rest but that he’d keep them informed.

  “It will take a few weeks, but there’ll be an inquest. There has to be in cases like this,” he said.

  “Good, good,” Gina muttered, as if talking to herself.

  Her mum stood up unsteadily and showed him to the front door. Gina could hear the constable in the hallway, saying, “Your daughter is obviously still in shock. People involved in traumatic events often seem detached and matter of fact. This must be a terrible time for you all. I’m so sorry.”

  Danny slopped over to Gina, and snuggled under the duvet with her. He looked at her with mournful eyes as they sat in silence. Mum returned to the living room. She gave a pained smile on seeing them together. “Do you think you can manage something to eat, Gina?” she asked.

  “No,” Gina said, exhausted. “I just want to go to bed. Promise that you’ll tell me if anything happens.”

  “Of course I will, but you heard what Constable Rogers said – it’s going to take a while. It’s best not to think about it yet,” her mum replied, biting her lip.

  Gina spent the next few weeks drifting around the house like a ghost; she didn’t want to go out, and was losing all sense of time, spending hour upon hour on her bed, falling in and out of sleep. Even when she was awake, she felt like she was sleepwalking – nothing seemed real. She had vague images of her mum flitting in and out of her room, trying to coax her to eat something. She knew that she should have been ravenously hungry but she had no appetite. The aching emptiness inside her couldn’t be filled by food.

  For long periods she wouldn’t utter a single word but then, suddenly, her silence would be shattered by bouts of uncontrollable crying. The outpourings came upon her without warning, like a wall of water breaking through a dam. Her whole body would start to tremble and choking sobs would mount up in her throat, until they erupted in a howl that sounded like it came from a wounded animal. Each time it happened her mum would run to her, throwing her arms around her, rocking her and kissing her head until the crying ebbed away and Gina fell asleep, exhausted.

  Every knock on the front door made Gina tense. She listened to the sound of visitors, recognized the hushed voices of friends, teachers, neighbours and relatives, but she just wanted all of them to go
away. One day, however, Mum came into her room to say that a friend had called. Mum told her it would do her good to chat and, before Gina could object, Becky was ushered into the bedroom.

  Gina sensed Becky’s awkwardness as her friend perched on the end of her bed. She could see in Becky’s widened eyes that she was taken aback by her appearance.

  “I’m so sorry about your dad. He was such a lovely man,” Becky said, looking down at the duvet.

  “Thanks,” Gina whispered.

  “Your mum thought you might want to talk about it. Do you?”

  Gina shook her head.

  “Well, when you do, I’m here for you. You know that, don’t you?”

  Gina managed a weak smile. There was silence between them as Becky chewed her lip, thinking what to say next. “Want to know what’s been going on at school?” she said at last.

  “Okay,” Gina answered politely. But as Becky began recounting all the latest gossip, Gina slumped back on the pillow, her eyes glazing over, as her friend’s words became a drone in her ears. Becky had stopped talking long before Gina realized.

  “I’d better go. You’re tired,” Becky said quietly.

  “I’m sorry, Becky.”

  “It’s okay. I understand. I just wanted to see you. When are you coming back to school?”

  “I don’t know. We’re waiting for the inquest and the funeral. I can’t do anything until I find out what happened to Dad.”

  “Do you mean why he did it?” Becky said gravely.

  “What are you talking about?” Gina looked baffled.

  “You know, why he…killed himself.”

  “My dad didn’t kill himself,” Gina said firmly.

  Becky blushed. “Oh…okay, well, er, I’d better go. I’ll see you soon.” She squeezed Gina’s hand and hurried out of the room.

  At first her mum would gently suggest that Gina might feel better if she went out and got some fresh air. Gina hadn’t been for a run in weeks. Normally there was no stopping her. So the more she refused to go out, the more worried her mum became. Then, one afternoon, Gina felt a determined tap on her shoulder. As her eyes flickered open she saw her mum standing next to her bed in the darkened room. Gina licked her dry lips and croaked, “Is it about the inquest?”