No Going Back Read Online Free PDF

but there were definite echoes of his mother’s smaller, sharper features about him too. Luckily, he’d shown no signs, so far, of having inherited Amanda’s nasty temper, Daniel thought, replacing the photo.
    The dog was asleep, lying flat on the rug close to Daniel’s chair, blissfully untroubled by the doubts that were disturbing his master. As far as he was concerned, he’d done his job, received his due praise and was content.
    Feeling the cold air on the back of his neck, Daniel pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt, recalling a handful of times when he’d worn it that way as a disguise, on duty on the streets of Bristol.
    Young enough, when he’d joined the police, to get away with mingling with gangs of teenagers, he’d quickly got a name for himself as one who could keep his cool in sticky situations, a reputation that had made his subsequent career interesting and varied.
    Memories of his previous life brought depression pushing like a dark cloud at the edges of his mind. He didn’t dislike his job with TFS. With no references or work skills that were relevant outside the force, he’d expected to have to take manual work of some kind and indeed, after watching everything he’d lived and worked for swirling down the pan, he’d been grateful to find anything that would get him away, and the further the better.
    In Devon, no one knew him; no one had heard the rumours or asked awkward questions. Tavistock Farm Supplies was a small company; Bowden asked few questions about his police career; and everyone else seemed to accept without curiosity his vague claim of having been a civil servant.
    Fred Bowden had proved to be a very fair boss, content to leave his drivers to their own devices, as long as they got the job done, and Daniel had met some friendly and decent people at the farms and stables he delivered to. It wasn’t all bad.
    Google finished its search and the monitor flickered and triumphantly produced a list of results for the given keywords, ‘Dartmoor’ and ‘Search and Rescue’.
    Daniel scanned the list, his eyes narrowing. There were no less than four subgroups in the area, all part of Dartmoor Search and Rescue. Considering Reynolds’s location at Stack Bridge, it seemed to Daniel highly unlikely that either of the two nearest groups would have been called out to a search near Bovey Tracey, as he had claimed. According to the website, it was usual for two groups to attend an emergency, with two remaining on standby in case they were needed, but Bovey was on the other side of the moor and it seemed logical that the Ashburton and Okehampton branches would have dealt with any such call, leaving Plymouth and Tavistock free to attend to the call to find Reynolds’s missing daughters.
    It was interesting that Reynolds had used the local pronunciation of the name Bovey. In Daniel’s experience, that was fairly unusual for a visitor, but then maybe he’d visited the moor before.
    Taking a twisted forkful of the cooling pasta, Daniel tapped in the name of the caravan park where Reynolds had claimed to be staying. Once again the computer began the peculiar ticking noise that meant it was cogitating and once again Daniel could do nothing but tap his fingers and wait. He supposed it would be less stressful to visit a library with Internet access after work the next day, but patience had never been one of his strengths when he was engaged on any kind of investigation. Unlike Taz, he was unable to rest content in the knowledge of a job well done and the more he went back over what had happened, the more he found to disturb him.
    Reynolds’s insistence that Daniel should stay well back with the dog when the girls were found was not in itself suspicious – many people felt a little threatened by a dog of Taz’s size – but the forceful manner in which he had made his wishes known had bordered on threatening. At the time,