They were just in time. Through the tiny gaps in the leaves, Jess could see the bottom half of a man dressed in dark clothing. A barrel of a shotgun was visible just in front of him as he walked round the front of the house, moving slowly, barely ten yards away from them. Jess held her breath, putting a hand over Casey’s mouth and holding her absolutely still. If they made even the faintest sound they’d be discovered – and then they’d be dead.

But it seemed the man hadn’t heard them. He kept moving round the house before disappearing from view. A few seconds later, Jess heard voices coming from round the other side of the house, but she couldn’t hear what they were saying.

A few seconds later, they heard a male voice with an English accent call out loudly: ‘If you’re in there, come out. We only want to talk to you. If you stay where you are, then we’re going to let the dogs on you, and you’re going to get hurt. Understand? You will get hurt.’

‘The dogs have picked up the scent of the meat,’ whispered Amanda, invisible amidst the laurel a few feet away. ‘We need to move while we’ve got a head start.’

Jess still didn’t see how they could outrun the dogs, because as soon as the men realized they weren’t inside the house, which would only be a matter of a couple of minutes, they’d be after them again. But she also knew there was no point staying put so, releasing her grip on Casey, she rolled over, retrieved the knife, and crawled through the dirt, forcing aside the laurel roots, whispering for her sister to stay right behind her.

Coming out the other side, Jess turned and pulled Casey through, and Casey cried out as her stomach scraped against a low-lying branch.

‘Sshh,’ hissed Amanda, putting a finger to her lips, her eyes flashing with fear and anger, and then she turned and began running through the trees.

Casey’s face crumpled up as she fought back tears and Jess lifted her to her feet and held her close. ‘Quiet baby,’ she whispered in her ear. ‘Be brave for me. This won’t last much longer, I promise.’ Grabbing her hand, Jess took off after Amanda, who didn’t look as though she planned on waiting around. Jess went as fast as she could with an exhausted ten-year-old in tow, but knew it almost certainly wasn’t fast enough.

They were back in the woods again now but, close by, Jess could see a single-track road that led down to the cottage.

And then she saw something else.

Headlights, appearing through the trees on the horizon.

And they were coming this way.

Thirty

Today 19.35

TONY HANSEN HAD had enough of his wife. He and Jackie had been married for twelve years now, and he reckoned that for most of the last ten of them she’d been driving him insane. It was the constant nagging. She nagged him about literally anything: his haircut; his job; his clothes; the way he left the toilet seat up when he peed in the middle of the night. At first he’d tried to react to her complaints by modifying his behaviour (when she’d told him she hated his flowery shirts, he’d stopped wearing them), but all that happened was that she’d start on about something else, and slowly it dawned on him that his wife was never going to be happy unless she was picking holes in him about something.

The fact was, he’d have divorced her years ago, but then she’d got pregnant with Jody (Christ, he’d hated that name, especially for a boy, but Jackie had been adamant and he knew better than to argue), and now there was no way he could leave her. He was trapped in a loveless marriage, and there was no way out of it. He’d tried to make things better by buying the holiday cottage up here in the country. They both liked walking, and wanted to encourage Jody, who was now six, to enjoy the great outdoors. In fact, when he was up here amidst the forests and hills, Tony was at his happiest. Even Jackie’s nagging seemed to slip effortlessly off him like the morning mist over the nearby river.

But right now she was driving him mad. She’d wanted him to drive up here via the A9, but he’d chosen the A93 instead, because the A9 had major roadworks between Dunkeld and Pitlochry. Unfortunately, it had taken him longer than he’d thought, and Jackie had been giving him trouble about it ever since. This was their first time away from Jody in over a year. They’d left him with Jackie’s mother while they spent four days up here celebrating (and he used the term loosely) their anniversary. They’d originally wanted to head for the Canaries for a bit of sun, but it seemed too far for such a short space of time and, anyway, money was scarce now that Tony had had to take a ten per cent pay cut at work – another thing she’d nagged him about, as if he had a choice in it.

The car had thankfully descended into a truce-like silence as he drove down the hill towards the cottage on the final leg of their three-hour journey. They’d picked up a curry at the only takeaway in Tayleigh and Tony had some beers in a cold box in the boot. He was finally thinking about properly relaxing. They’d get the heating on, watch a bit of telly. God forbid, maybe even have sex . . .

‘Look, Tony. The lights are on in the cottage.’

Disturbed from his reverie, Tony looked up and saw the sloping roof of the cottage through the trees. Jackie was right. The bedroom light was definitely on, and there could be no innocent reason for it either. They never left the lights on when they left, and they no longer had a cleaner, or even a neighbour who looked after the place.

‘Can you see, Tony? Can you see?’

‘Aye, course I can see.’

‘I think we should call the police.’ Jackie fumbled in her pocket for her mobile.

‘Let’s take a look first,’ he said, slowing down as he got nearer the cottage. He could see now that the lights on the ground floor were on as well.

‘But what if it’s burglars and they’re still there? Come on. You need to call the police.’ She tried to hand him the phone but he didn’t take it.

‘And tell them what? That the lights are on in our cottage and they shouldn’t be? We need to see what’s happened first.’

‘I don’t like this,’ Jackie announced warily as he drove into the driveway and stopped, switching off the engine.

‘Ah shit, we’ve been burgled,’ he said, seeing the broken kitchen window. ‘God knows what they were after. There’s nothing there.’

‘I knew we should have got a bloody alarm. What did I tell you? The place is too bloody isolated.’

But Tony was looking up at the bedroom window. ‘Christ Almighty. There’s someone moving up there. They’re still here.’

‘Let’s go,’ said Jackie fearfully as he fumbled for his keys, suddenly wishing he hadn’t turned off the engine. ‘Come on, come on.’ She shook his arm as if this would speed him up, her eyes wide with panic.

Behind her, a shadow moved outside the passenger door and the next second there was a deafening bang, very close.

Tony shut his eyes instinctively, and when he opened them a split second later, his face had been sprayed with a warm liquid, and Jackie was tottering in her seat, with a large chunk of the side of her head missing. One eye was gone, and the other was open and staring sightlessly into the distance. Blood and pieces of brain covered the whole of the car’s interior, and Tony knew that that was what was covering his face too.

Jackie fell sideways and slumped in her seat. Dead. Gone. Finished. Outside, the man who’d fired the fatal shot was standing beside the bonnet aiming his rifle at Tony. Tony couldn’t see his face, and didn’t want to.

Dropping the keys, he yanked open the driver’s door and jumped out, moving surprisingly fast for a man who was a good three stone overweight. But he was never going to make it. He heard the second shot ring out, felt a huge pressure on his back, as if someone had dropped a rock on it, and fell forward onto the driveway, hitting it face first.