Page 7 of Criminally Yours

“You can both fuck off,” Strike grunted, hating that they amused him with their banter. “I’ll let you know when I’m on the road and heading to yours. It should take less than five hours to get to Devon. I’ll drive through the night.”

“Try resting somewhere first. It’s not healthy to drive all night,” Liss said softly.

“I used to be on manoeuvres where I’d have to stay alert and not move for hours when I was in the army?—"

“I still worry about you,” she cut in.

“You don’t need to. I’ll catch you later.”

“Okay, buddy,” Bear replied. “Stay safe, yeah?”

Strike hung up without replying. He popped a couple of boxes in the car and slammed the boot closed.

The sound echoed around the neighbourhood.

Ten years ago, he’d run away from his home and joined the army. He’d never be the happy, goofy kid he was then.

He trudged back into the house and readied himself to say goodbye to the past.

CHAPTER 3

Millie

Ashallow breath escaped Millie’s mouth as she glanced in her rearview mirror for the umpteenth time during her agonising drive to her parents’ house.

It took fifteen minutes to pack as much as she could and escape her apartment. The only delay was throwing up the contents of her stomach and struggling to lock her front door because she couldn’t stop shaking.

Her mobile rang through the car’s console. She didn’t recognise the number. What if it was her mum saying there was a problem with the cruise?

She debated her options as the ringing ended.

Her heart palpitations tested her resilience, but she focused on breathing exercises.

Her phone rang again. She answered it, gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white.

“Hello?”

“Forget everything you saw, you nosey little bitch.” His rasp made her stomach threaten to unload the water she’d sipped on her drive. It must be Hugo.

Her voice wavered as she held her hand to her throat as she remembered his slicing motion. “I don’t know what?—"

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” he snarled. “Where are you?”

“Leave me alone.” Millie’s chest hurt as she sucked in sharp breaths.

“Maybe your mum will appreciate a visitor after I watch her weeping at your funeral, Millie Haven.”

Her blood turned to ice as she hit the end button, missing a couple of times as her fingers shook.

She pulled onto the street and parked a short walk from her parents’ house. Her lips trembled as she squinted, her vision fuzzy with panic. She scanned the tree-lined street, waiting for movement or anything unusual.

Her parents’ driveway was empty. Hugo would be outside her apartment, not here.

She checked her phone again, scrolling to the paparazzi images she’d studied on the train.

Her stomach baulked as she stared at the picture that had made her gasp so loudly that people had gawked at her.

Hugo, his dad, the Deputy Prime Minister, and his mum, a woman labelled as a Commissioner for the Metropolitan Police, stood in front of Westminster Cathedral for a carol service.