Nikki Benedict wakes to the knock of the police one morning
to be told she has inherited the house and assets of a complete stranger. Mrs
Courtney apparently died in a tragic accident, without any immediate family.
But Nikki soon learns there are doubts about the nature of her
benefactor’s death and makes a shocking discovery that rocks the
foundations of her own life. She becomes caught in a tangled web of
intrigue which suggests Mrs Courtney was murdered and a local builder
The more Nikki uncovers, the greater the danger she faces, as Mrs Courtney’s killer closes in to shut her R up.
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'A passing car fanned search lights across her. As it did, something caught
her eye. Something familiar but also foreign. There was a faint sound
that was audible above the distant buzz of the refrigerator in the
It was a noise that caused her pulse to quicken.
Then there was a rasping cough and the flare of a
match; the glow of a cigarette tip and the
mingling odour of sulphur and tobacco blended with
A ghostly whisper alighted from the lips that sucked at a
roughly-made cigarette. “You should listen...” the voice said.
Nikki jumped up and backed away towards the hall trying to grope for a switch on the wall. But the wall stretched blankly in all directions and none of her desperate slapping of its surface found the plastic switch she sought as stale sweat and tobacco invaded her nostrils and someone shuffled across the carpet.
He coughed, his throat straining as if he were about to be sick. Smoke plumed up above his shadowy form as he stayed back from the light, only faintly visible.
She could just make out that he had long hair and wore a shabby coat with
a hood. The ends of his baggy trousers were heaped over a pair of
“Don’t want food,” he said, hoarse and breathless.
Silence. The cough stopped and he sucked again on the
cigarette. Then again. Then again. Each time a slow exhalation pumped
smoke across at her.
“You got to understand things.”
Again there was a long pause as he puffed on his cigarette.
“You got all this...” His smouldering cigarette waved left and right.
“You owe her.”
“She paid with her life. You’re rich