The Missing Wife. Sam Carrington
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‘Yes! And I felt such a fool. Kept having to say I couldn’t remember. I really wish I hadn’t drunk so much.’
Tiff screwed her eyes up, giving Louisa what appeared to be a silent apology for her part in that. ‘They might want a list of people who were there. We’d best go through your friends list, the one I used to invite everyone. If I’m honest though, I have no clue which of them were there, and which ones weren’t. Obviously I knew some of our mutual friends, but not the other randoms.’
‘Do you think it’ll come to that? To the police asking for names?’
‘If Melissa doesn’t show, and the police can’t find any evidence of her using her phone, her bank accounts or anything, then yes, they’ll scale up the investigation.’
‘How come you know so much?’
‘I went through it once. A long time ago now, but it still sticks in my mind.’
‘Oh? You never told me that. Who went missing?’
‘My friend – someone I’d met through my charity work when I was in my early twenties, so a long time before I met you. It was so sad – they never did find her.’
‘How awful. I’m sorry, Tiff. God, I do hope Melissa is found quickly. And safe and well.’
Darkness.
Blood.
A body – crumpled and still, lying on the ground.
A figure looming above it.
The image popped into her head, the words You can help me, like I once helped you echoing in her ears.
Louisa wished these images would stop. They had been coming more frequently since her party.
Since Oliver.
She hoped he would hurry up and return her text message.
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