Dark Water (Detective Erika Foster, #3)

by Robert Bryndza

– driving from the houses at the edge of the village, over the empty patch of gravel where the walkers parked their cars, and onto the vast common. With the headlights off, the car bumped and lurched across the rough ground, joining a footpath, which was soon shrouded on either side by dense woodland. The darkness was thick and clammy, and the only light came over the tops of the trees.

away. The moon briefly broke through the clouds as the two figures emerged from the car, and they took something large from the back and carried it towards the rowing boat by the water. The first climbed in, and as the second passed the long package into the boat there was something about the way it bent and flopped that made him realise with horror that it was a body. The soft splashes of the oars carried across the water. He put a hand to his mouth.

the ceiling. He stood on the sofa and reached up, quickly fitting the small listening device in the plastic housing of the smoke detector. It was voice-activated, with a battery life of several days. He stepped down off the sofa and moved through to the hallway. The landline sat on the table, its red charging light glowing in the dark. As he reached out to take the handset from its cradle, the floorboards creaked, and he froze. He moved quickly through a doorway opposite the bannister; an empty room filled with junk. She creaked past him, heavy-footed, to the kitchen. The light came on; he heard the tap running and the crackle of a foil sheet of pills. The light flicked off,

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