Read Online Bite Deep by Rebekah Turner - Free Book Online Page B

shambling large shed near the cottage as he attempted to ready their caravan for their travels.
    â€˜You know, I don’t recall when you left,’ Bowden said. ‘You were, what, about eight years old?’
    â€˜Thirteen,’ Lydia said softly. ‘I was thirteen.’
    â€˜Right.’ Bowden trailed off, becoming aware the conversation had veered into territory best left alone. They drove in silence for the rest of the way and Lydia was fine with that. She didn’t quite have her footing yet. Even though Camden seemed the same, she was still essentially a stranger. Everything felt slightly off and she couldn’t quite relax, aware she didn’t fit in. She told herself that things would change once the Solbergs left. The house had decades of strangers traipsing through its doors and she knew logically it would take a while for her to settle and make it a home.
    Bowden pulled off the road, turning onto a winding dirt driveway pinpointed by a letterbox made from a milk crate nailed to a wooden stump. The path stretched up through acres of apple trees, heavy with fruit, until an old timber house came into view, looking like it had been put together by someone who didn’t care much about the finer points of carpentry. An elderly man sat on a bench on the front porch, shotgun lying across his knees. Lydia glanced at Bowden, wondering if it was usual to be greeted by a person with a weapon. She hoped not; her nerves didn’t need the workout. Bowden just gave a weary sigh and braked near the house.
    â€˜Don’t mind the gun, Sam’s harmless,’ he told Lydia, killing the engine and getting out. ‘Probably just filled with rock salt anyway.’
    Lydia followed him, trying to keep her hands away from the gun at her hip, an automatic response when faced with an armed stranger. She tried to be calm and appreciate the beautiful morning sky, a clear stretch of sapphire overhead. But somehow she couldn’t shake the feeling she was going to throw up.
    â€˜Frank.’ The old man nodded at Bowden in greeting, ignoring her.
    â€˜Hey, Sam.’ Bowden stopped at the bottom of the porch, resting a foot on the bottom step.
    Up close, Lydia saw Sam Tanner was a scrawny man, with snowy fairy-floss hair and oversized ears. He smoked a brown cigarette that smelled like burning tar, fingers nicotine-stained down to the knuckles.
    â€˜What’s going on, Sam?’ Bowden asked.
    â€˜Just like I told you on the phone. I would have called yesterday, but I was feeling a little off.’ The old man picked some tobacco leaf off his lip, then stood, shotgun in his left hand. He eyed Lydia doubtfully. ‘You sure you want to see this, love?’
    â€˜Sorry, Sam, don’t know where my manners got to.’ Bowden threw a hand Lydia’s way. ‘This is Constable Gault, Jade Gault’s little girl. She’s come back after working on the police force back on the mainland.’
    Sam fixed Lydia with a shrewd look. ‘Dominic still kicking around, eh?’
    â€˜He’s still around,’ Lydia said. ‘He and Greta are looking to retire. Travel the country in a caravan.’
    â€˜He’ll go mad within a week, guaranteed,’ Sam predicted with a sage look. ‘Especially with that wife of his. Got a tongue on her that can draw blood.’ Sam inhaled deeply on his cigarette, then dropped it on the porch and stubbed it out with a mud-encrusted boot. ‘There’s a bit of blood out there, Frank. Maybe leave the girl in the car.’
    Lydia forced a stiff, reassuring smile across her face. ‘I worked homicide before I came here, Mr Tanner. I’ve seen worse, I can assure you.’
    â€˜Yeah?’ The corner of the old man’s eyes crinkled, like he thought it was kind of funny. Lydia’s face flushed hot, remembering how lightning-fast gossip spread through towns. No doubt he’d heard about her throwing up out the back of