DI Kelly Porter is back. But will this new case push her beyond her limits?
On a peaceful summer’s morning in the Lake District, a woman’s body is discovered outside a church. She’s been murdered and a brutal, symbolic act performed on her corpse. DI Kelly Porter is in charge of the team investigating the crime, and is determined to bring the killer to justice. But as more deaths occur it is clear this is the work of a disturbed, dangerous and determined individual. Can Kelly put the puzzle pieces together before the danger comes closer to home?
Don’t miss this gripping crime thriller featuring an unforgettable detective. Perfect for fans of Angela Marsons, Patricia Gibney and Robert Bryndza.
She’d a missed call from her sister, Nikki, which she ignored, and two from the estate agent.
Shit! She’d missed another viewing. She called him to grovel and promised to rearrange.
She drove back to Eden House in a brooding mood and thought about the case. Her new Audi drove well, and she felt less conspicuous than she had in her convertible BMW. It was more practical but also had a lot more space to clutter. Her phone rang again and she answered it, hands free. It was the hospital: her mother was being discharged tonight.
That was good news at least. Wendy Porter had spent three days being tested for irregular heart rhythms, and now she’d stabilised. It would give Kelly some breathing space while she threw herself into this new investigation. Nikki would no doubt accuse her of putting her work first, but she’d gone beyond trying to defend herself. Dad had come under the same heavy fire for his commitment to the force. She was damned either way.
Kelly’s thoughts turned back to Ted Wallis. Perhaps he’d find something on their victim’s body to link her with where she’d taken her last breath, because Kelly was convinced that it hadn’t been Watermillock. It was impossible to remove every trace of contact. Locard’s Exchange Principal rang true every time; that the perp always brought something to a crime scene and always left with something too, but the difficult bit was finding someone to match the evidence to. If they had no crime scene, then they had no suspects.
So she’d just have to find some.
The lack of a classic crime scene would make the investigation harder. She knew that hunches were dangerous but she couldn’t help feeling that, wherever it was, it would be used again. When she thought of the time and consideration taken to punish and extinguish the life of the woman found at Watermillock, Kelly came back to the same conclusion: the killer had enjoyed it. They’d have to concentrate on the dump site instead.
Kelly sat back in her car seat and thought about what she would tell her team. She imagined a man kneeling in the dirt, in the half light, arranging the body of a middle-aged woman with expensive jewellery. The man was strong and deliberate, he was also a huge risk taker, and possessor of an arrogance only reserved for the insane.
But there she stopped herself, and had to remember the one thing she’d never been able to understand about psychology: that psychopaths aren’t crazy.
They know exactly what they’re doing.
Rachel Lynch grew up in Cumbria and the lakes and fells are never far away from her. London pulled her away to teach History and marry an Army Officer, whom she followed around the globe for thirteen years. A change of career after children led to personal training and sports therapy, but writing was always the overwhelming force driving the future. The human capacity for compassion as well as its descent into the brutal and murky world of crime are fundamental to her work.