Under a Silent Moon: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

house-to-house?”
    “Jane Phelps is organizing that; she’s still out there with Les. I spoke to her before we came in, and it’s all village gossip so far, no dramas. She said she’d ring in when they’re done. Patrols did most of it this morning before we got there, anyway. She’s going round again to make sure.”
    “Thanks. Well, that’s about it for now. Any questions?”
    Murmurs, everyone itching to get on with it.
    “Right. Next briefing tomorrow morning, eight sharp. I’m talking to the press at nine, so let’s see if we can stay ahead of them. Okay. Let’s go.”
    A moment of quiet, and then the shuffling of chairs, rustling of papers, laughter, voices. A few handshakes, people who’d been off working other areas and found themselves back on the team together.
    Lou let out a long, slow breath, dealt with the few people who came up to her afterward with comments, suggestions, or ideas that they hadn’t felt brave enough to pipe up with in the briefing.
    Then there was only one person left, someone she didn’t know, leaning casually against the back wall, arms crossed, giving her his complete and undivided attention. He had dark hair, broad shoulders, and—most disconcerting of all—a black eye.
    “Can I help you?” she asked, wondering with a snap of fear if someone had been in the briefing who shouldn’t have been.
    “I’m Jason Mercer.”
    She’d forgotten the name but there was no mistaking that accent. Shit! Had she been really rude to him on the phone earlier? A warm flush spreading across her cheeks, she decided there was only one way to play this: pretend it never happened.
    “Hi. Did you have any luck finding me an analyst?” she asked, shaking his hand. His was warm, his grip firm. He looked her in the eye, held her gaze. The dark bruise, a smudge across the bridge of his nose, made the green of his eyes more striking.
    “Yes and no—I’m afraid you’ve got me .”
    “Well, thank you. I’m glad you’re here. Did you get everything you needed from the briefing?”
    “I think so. Presumably you want a network, timeline, that sort of thing?”
    “Yes, please.”
    “What about the phones?”
    “Jane Phelps is going to be the exhibits officer. When she’s back later I’ll get a list of them for you. She’s already put the applications in for the records of all of the phones we have. We didn’t find Polly’s phone at the cottage, unfortunately, but we’ve got the number from the Maitlands.”
    She led him out of the briefing room, stopping at Barry Holloway’s desk to introduce them. But they had worked together on a case before and shook hands briefly.
    “We’ve got you a desk sorted out and the workstations all loaded and ready to go,” Barry said.
    “Can you brief me tomorrow morning?” Lou asked. “Before the press conference?”
    Jason looked her straight in the eye once again. “Sure. I’ll see what I can do.”
    Turning away, walking back to her poky little office, Lou wondered why her heart was pounding and her skin felt as if it were on fire.
    16:10
    When Flora got back, Miranda Gregson and Petrie were nowhere to be found. She began mucking out the stables, managing to hold herself together as long as she didn’t think about Polly doing this and now never doing it again. She kept her eyes on the wet straw and horseshit, shoveling it into the wheelbarrow and then over to the heap.
    “Flora!”
    Flora groaned. He was back. Connor-bloody-Petrie.
    “Where have you been?” she said, not looking up until his green Wellingtons appeared in her line of vision, directly in her way.
    He was standing with his hands in his pockets, looking casual and jolly as if he owned the stables and felt the need to supervise his own personal shit shoveler. “I was giving that nice police lady a tour of the farm,” he said. “None of you lot bothered to do that, did you?”
    “Where is she now?”
    “Back in the kitchen.”
    “You’re in the way,” she said.
    He