Another day, another hangover.
Gardner reached over from the sofa and switched on her mobile phone.
It had a buzzing, beeping fit.
Five voicemail messages.
My sociopathic brother?
With her stomach doing somersaults, she listened.
They weren’t from her brother.
The first three messages were from Riddick. All sent throughout the night.
Anders stabbed… Riddick and Cherish assaulted… baby born, premature, but alive.
The fourth and fifth messages were hours old. They were from Chief Constable Marsh. ‘Where’re you? There’s been another murder.’ Shit… She listened to the details of where the crime was. ‘See you ASAP, Emma.’
The next message was less than complimentary. ‘Where the hell are you, Emma? It’s been over an hour. Paul isn’t even picking up his goddamn phone either!’
Gardner looked at the empty bottle of wine on the table and then ran to the toilet to be sick.