Holy Island Trilogy 03 - The Final Countdown Read Free

was a known grazer of junk food. Kristina and the rest of the team often ribbed him about his diet which Cox, being Cox, he took good-naturedly.
     Her gut feeling, though, said the opposite. Cox was also the most unimaginative and down to earth person she’d ever met. To come up with something like this would mean he’d had a serious personality transplant. Sitting up, she sighed and chewed on her thumbnail.
    Recently widowed, Kristina had only just came back to Berwick on Tweed. The moment she saw Mike, after a three year absence, she knew that the flame, despite her marriage, was still burning as strong as it ever had.
    Stupid that I left in the first place!
    And if I’m honest, he’s the real reason I came back here.
    Even if I truly didn’t plan it.
    Well, not consciously.
    But, where the hell?
    She picked up her mobile and tried his number again. After a minute, and no answer, frustrated she threw the phone down on the settee and glared at it as if it was to blame for everything wrong in the world, as well as the missing Mike Yorke.
    ‘Where the hell are you, Mike?’ she muttered again. ‘Stubbornest man I every flaming well met. You always bloody well were!’
    A moment later she sat upright. ‘Shit, nearly forgot to phone Rafferty.' She picked up the phone and dialled Rafferty’s number. After a few rings, it went to voicemail. ‘Hmm.' Kristina looked at the phone and shrugged. ‘I’ll try again later.’
    She sighed. Forgot to tell Cox to look into Rafferty as well, and about the missing email that could or could not be lost. Too tired, she thought, as she massaged her temples.
    ‘Time for bed.’
    Only a few minutes had gone by since she’d closed the door on Cox, and as she spoke out loud she heard a quick, sharp bang. With a puzzled frown, and her mind notching up a gear, she went to the window. Her back against the wall, she carefully opened the curtain from the side and peeked out.
    She frowned. What the--?
    Cox’s car was still parked outside the house. The night was damp and slightly foggy, with a mist from the north sea which had closed in earlier in the day, but with the aid of the street lamp outside her door she could just about see him through the misted-up car window.
    Hmm, she thought, what’s he still hanging about for? There’ll be hell to pay when he gets home, and that’s a fact. Cox’s wife is the one who wears the pants in his house alright.
    Suddenly she froze. Was that a sound close to her front door, or was she just imagining it?
    No, definitely not, I’m hearing things. She half-convinced herself.  But again, a moment later she thought she heard something. The flesh on the back of her neck began to tingle, and a slight flush of fear ran down her spine.
    Why hasn’t Cox moved?
    What the hell is going on?
    The sound, which was hard to identify, but which she imagined was a bit like someone furtively trying the door handle without much success, happened again.
    OK, the door handle is stiff and quirky, but did I lock the door?
    ‘Shit!’ she muttered, thinking back to when she closed the door after Cox and realizing that no, she hadn’t locked the door behind him. She quickly looked around for a weapon, something, anything she could use to defend herself with.
    If there really is someone creeping about.
    If I’m not just imagining it.
    There’s nobody there.
    Of course not.
    But why hasn’t Cox moved?
    Bet he just fell asleep, it’s this whole fucking business, got me spooked to high heaven.
    And then she heard the sound again.
    Her breath caught in her throat.

CHAPTER TWO
    Mr Brodzinski walked to the crossing at the end of the road where,  after a white van went speeding past, he crossed over and made his way towards a small café. Bright green neon lights in the window advertised the café’s name, Marco’s. It was a few doors down on the opposite side of the road to Kristina’s house.
    He ordered coffee and a piece of chocolate cake, then went and sat in one of