Lost Souls by Jenny O'Brien (android e book reader txt) 📕

Praise for the Detective Gaby Darin series

‘Mind blowing’

‘Keeps you on the edge of your seat’

‘A great crime procedural series!’

‘An amazing thriller from beginning to end’

‘Couldn’t ask for a better read’

‘This series just keeps getting better. I was hooked from the first page’

‘A five-star read, no question’

About the Author

Born in Dublin, JENNY O’BRIEN moved to Wales and then Guernsey, where she tries to find time to both read and write in between working as a nurse and ferrying around three teenagers.

In her spare time she can be found frowning at her wonky cakes and even wonkier breads. You’ll be pleased to note she won’t be entering Bake Off. She’s also an all-year-round sea swimmer.

Also by Jenny O’Brien

The Detective Gaby Darin series

Silent Cry

Darkest Night

Fallen Angel

Lost Souls

JENNY O’BRIEN

HQ

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

HarperCollinsPublishers

1st Floor, Watermarque Building, Ringsend Road

Dublin 4, Ireland

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2021

Copyright © Jenny O’Brien 2021

Jenny O’Brien asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

E-book Edition © 2021 ISBN: 9780008457044

Version: 2021-04-14

Table of Contents

Cover

Praise for the Detective Gaby Darin series

About the Author

Also by Jenny O’Brien

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1: Elodie

Chapter 2: Gaby

Chapter 3: Ronan

Chapter 4: Gaby

Chapter 5: Ronan

Chapter 6: Janice

Chapter 7: Gaby

Chapter 8: Owen

Chapter 9: Gaby

Chapter 10: Owen

Chapter 11: Gaby

Chapter 12: Barbara

Chapter 13: Gaby

Chapter 14: Ronan

Chapter 15: Gaby

Chapter 16: Owen

Chapter 17: Gaby

Chapter 18: Owen

Chapter 19: Ronan

Chapter 20: Gaby

Chapter 21: Ronan

Chapter 22: Gaby

Chapter 23: Marie

Chapter 24: Ronan

Chapter 25: Gaby

Chapter 26: Gaby

Chapter 27: Gaby

Chapter 28: Ronan

Chapter 29: Gaby

Chapter 30: Gaby

Chapter 31: Gaby

Chapter 32: Jax

Chapter 33: Ronan

Chapter 34: Owen

Chapter 35: Gaby

Chapter 36: Owen

Chapter 37: Gaby

Chapter 38: Gaby

Chapter 39: Marie

Chapter 40: Ronan

Chapter 41: Marie

Chapter 42: Ronan

Chapter 43: Gaby

Chapter 44: Janice

Chapter 45: Gaby

Chapter 46: Ronan

Chapter 47: Gaby

Chapter 48: Ronan

Chapter 49: Gaby

Chapter 50: Ronan

Chapter 51: Gaby

Chapter 52: Gaby

Chapter 53: Owen

Chapter 54: Gaby

Chapter 55: Gaby

Chapter 56: Gaby

Epilogue: Ronan

Extract

Acknowledgements

Dear Reader …

Keep Reading …

About the Publisher

To Joël, Remi and Freya. You inspire me each and every day.

Be happy, be brave but, most important of all, be kind.

Chapter 1

Elodie

Friday 31 July, 1 p.m. Colwyn Bay

Elodie Fry was bored. It was only two weeks since school had broken up for summer but she had nothing to do and nobody to do it with.

The house was quiet, the only sound to be heard the distant hum of the hoover as her mum vacuumed the stairs. She could of course help but when she’d offered she’d had her head snapped off for her trouble, which was such a rare event that she’d retreated to the lounge in a huff with her library book. That was an hour ago. Her book was long since finished, her water bottle empty and there was nothing on the television that grabbed her attention.

She scrabbled to her feet, her skinny legs almost too long for her body. Her fair hair was still pulled back into the netted bun she had to wear to her ballet lessons, a look that was at war with her pink hoodie and scruffy jeans. She left the lounge and wandered into the kitchen, humming a little tune she’d made up in her head. Her mum’s bag was slung around the back of the chair, her half-full mug of cold tea abandoned on the pine table. She could always start on her lunch but she wasn’t in the mood for a sandwich. Her normally placid demeanour was disturbed by the bitter taste of annoyance at the way her mother had spoken to her.

While she didn’t have a dad, she did have an amazing mum who worked all the hours to ensure that they had enough money to eke out over the month. There was never much left over for treats and a new school uniform was one of the corners that her mother had to cut in favour of second-hand. But she always managed to scrape enough money together for a pair of proper leather school shoes and a decent pair of trainers, even if they weren’t as designer as Elodie would like. No, Elodie had a lot to be thankful for. Her lack of a dad was a niggle but there were far worse things than a snappy mum and no dad.

There was nothing in the kitchen that she wanted so, instead of dawdling, she twisted the key to the back door and headed out into the fenced garden, the warm burst of sun on her face causing her to break out into her signature cheeky smile. The garden wasn’t big: barely a few metres of grass bordered by a small patio and with a large shed taking up the whole of one corner.

After a few walkovers and handstands she was bored again. Her gaze lingered on the shed. What she needed was a ball, something she could bang against the side of the house until her mother had finished whatever she was doing upstairs.

The shed opened easily under her touch, the bolt sliding back with a slight squeak. She held her breath and her fingers gripped the edge of the door. Her mother had told her on more than one occasion that she had no business going into places that didn’t concern her, which meant that the shed was