Kirsty Lindsay is a very busy woman. Since he located her outside the daily police briefing, he has followed her all over town, and laid out what would usually be a week’s living money on entrance fees and related expenses. He has followed her into the amusement park, ridden the train on the pier...
Barely time for her sheets to get cold. Thin and nervous-looking, creamy skin – Scottish blood, perhaps? Or Irish? – thick fair curls pulled to the back of her head with a rubber band and a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She doesn’t look as if she belongs here. But then, he...
The girls’ voices shrill, defensive, Sean’s fruity tenor booming across the still air. The building machinery, which threw her from her sleep half an hour ago, has come to a standstill and every word of their row rings across the neighbourhood. ‘Fuck you, Daddy!’ shouts In...