Submerged. Jordan Gray

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      “I need to see Detective Chief Inspector Paddington.”

      The assistant pushed her glasses up with an index finger. “He’s busy, Mrs. Graham.”

      “It’s critical that I speak to someone. You see, I found—”

      “The D.C.I. will get to you when he has a moment, flower. Or you can return when—”

      Molly couldn’t stand it anymore. “Can I use a phone? Please?”

      The assistant gestured to a desk overflowing with papers and used foam cups. “You can use that one.”

      Molly was quick to punch in the numbers. “Michael. No, I’m not using my mobile. It fell off the side of the cliff where I was hiking. I’d pulled it out to call you and the D.C.I., but I dropped it.”

      “Molly, are you all right? You sound upset,” Michael said.

      “I’m fine, really. It’s just… I’m at the police station…to report a dead body.”

      Cast of Characters

      Michael and Molly Graham—The young couple have come to Blackpool for a simpler life… Only, things in the small town are anything but simple.

      D.C.I. Paddington—The stolid inspector has a laid-back approach to investigation—so laid-back that it’s fuelled rumors he’s only in Blackpool to bide his time until retirement.

      The Crowes—The members of the Crowe family are reputed to have more secrets than they have money. And they keep both very well.

      Dennis Carteret and Percy Lethbridge—The two men are members of the planning board for Blackpool’s harbor renovation—but they hadn’t planned on a conspiracy.

      Rosamund Carteret—Dennis’s only child, and his world. The teenager lost her mother when she was very young, and Dennis would do anything to shield her from further suffering.

      Francis Weymouth—He says his only ambition is to protect the environment, though he seems awfully cozy with the media. And very antagonistic toward Molly.

      Rohan Wallace—The Jamaican émigré came to Blackpool to work, but lately he and Michael have become obsessed with the legend of Charles Crowe’s stolen gypsy gold. Is his interest purely recreational?

      Greed, jealousy, betrayal, trickery, murder—secrets are the heart of Blackpool.

      Submerged

      Jordan Gray

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      CONTENTS

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      CHAPTER NINE

      CHAPTER TEN

      CHAPTER ELEVEN

      CHAPTER TWELVE

      CHAPTER THIRTEEN

      CHAPTER FOURTEEN

      CHAPTER FIFTEEN

      CHAPTER SIXTEEN

      CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

      CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

      CHAPTER NINETEEN

      CHAPTER TWENTY

      CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

      CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

      CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

      CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

      CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

      CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

      CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

      CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

      CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

      CHAPTER THIRTY

      CHAPTER ONE

      MOLLY GRAHAM CAME TO a shaky stop in front of an old Victorian on Walnut Grove, steeling herself to go inside Blackpool’s police station. Except for the modest sign near the walk, a passerby wouldn’t have thought it anything other than a stately old house with a primrose garden in need of serious weeding. The white paint was peeling in places around the cornices on the second floor.

      In contrast, the inside was completely modern, though nothing she would call “state of the art.” There was a drop ceiling in the main room, and fluorescent lights hung from it. The air was filled with the scent of lavender and Lysol, and an underlying acrid pong of cigarette smoke. Not that anyone could smoke in the building, but she knew that a scattering of officers and assistants did so elsewhere, and the odor clung to their clothes.

      The assistant at the front desk—the only person Molly spotted this afternoon—was a petite woman who would have been forced into retirement years ago, had she been with a larger city’s police department. She looked at Molly through wire-rimmed trifocals, tucked a few wisps of iron-gray hair behind one ear and waited for Molly to speak.

      Molly drew a calming breath. “I need to see Detective Chief Inspector Paddington.”

      The woman pushed her glasses up with an index finger. “He’s busy, Mrs. Graham.”

      Although Molly didn’t know the woman, she wasn’t surprised the assistant recognized her; Molly had her picture in the newspaper enough times, especially recently. She wished it had more to do with the grants that she had helped to secure for the town, but to Molly and her husband, Michael’s, dismay, their notoriety seemed to stem from a series of local murders and mysteries that they had solved—which brought Molly back to why she was here.

      “This is very important.”

      “I’m sure it is.”

      “Please, can you tell him—”

      “Is it a life-and-death emergency?”

      “Yes.” A pause. “Well, not exactly, but—”

      “Then take a seat, flower, and he’ll get to you when he has time.”

      Trying

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