Paparazzi by Jo Fenton (best free e reader .txt) 📕

“And others wouldn’t believe their little darlings could possibly be involved. It’s worth a shot though. Wendy, do you think that’s reasonable?”

“I’ll ask if a letter home to all the parents could be part of the remedy for this. As you say, Becky, many of them won’t believe it of their kids, but others might decide to take more of an interest in their teenagers’ online activities.”

With a plan of action agreed, Wendy reviews my daughter’s new security processes, and approves them. By the time she leaves, it’s almost eight. My phone pings as I watch her get into her car. Finn has sent me a WhatsApp.

“Just left work. Picking up grub. See you at Joanna’s in twenty minutes.”

I check on Cheryl before I leave. She’s in her bedroom playing games on her iPad.

“Are you okay? You’ve had quite a day.” I drop a kiss on her forehead.

“I’m fine thanks, Mum. Are you off out again?” She lifts her eyes briefly from the game. “You look nice.”

“Thanks.” I hope she doesn’t see me blush in the dim light in her room. “Yes, back to Joanna’s to meet with a police officer in charge of a case that we’ve got involved in.”

“Is it to do with Troy Cassidy? I heard it on the radio this afternoon.”

“I’m afraid so, yes.”

“Good luck. I hope you find the killer. Can you imagine if it was just some jealous girl wanting him for herself?”

“That’s certainly a line of enquiry, Chezz. Thanks.”

“I can’t imagine being that obsessive with anyone, but you see it on films and in books all the time.”

“You might be right. Anyway, I have to go. I’ll see you in the morning if I’m back too late tonight.”

I pop my head into the study on the way out. “Matt, you need to rest. Let Roger sort it out for now. You can do some more tomorrow.”

“I’ll finish shortly. I just need to check out a couple of routes that might have been used.” He turns and looks at me. “Take it easy yourself, Becks. You’re looking tired.”

Outside in the car, I check my appearance in the mirror. Maybe I’m a little flushed, but I think that’s more of a sign of who I’m meeting, rather than of tiredness. Perhaps the silk blouse is a bit of overkill for a meeting with Joanna and ‘a police officer’, but my pulse is saying otherwise.

I start the engine. The lights come on automatically, and I catch a movement in the bushes. Did I lock up properly? Is my family safe? I tap a quick message into my phone, asking Cheryl and Matt to both check that they’ve locked all the doors and windows, and mention a possible prowler outside. I let them think I’m talking about burglars, but my thumping heart is now a result of remembering Troy’s wife. Would the murderer be after my family too?

By the time I get to Joanna’s, a few moments later, I’m a quivering jelly, and it’s not because of Finn. I have a good look round, surveying the area before I get out of the car. I don’t think there’s anyone here, but if someone was on foot, they wouldn’t have been able to keep up with me. Unless they’re part of a gang. I’ve been responsible for the breakup and imprisonment of a lot of gangs in my career. There are far too many people who could have a vendetta against me.

For now, though, I’m reassured that there’s no one lurking in the street. All the same, I make a very quick dash from car to house. Joanna opens the door.

“Bloody hell, Becky, are you okay? Come in. Finn’s not here yet.”

“I think… there was someone… outside my house.” I take a few deep breaths as I stumble into her lounge and collapse on the sofa. Joanna goes into the kitchen and emerges with a glass of water. She sits on the sofa next to me and puts her hand on my shoulder.

“Have a swig of this, hen, and get your breath back.” She looks as if she’s going to say something else, but then the doorbell rings. “That’ll be Finn.” She stands up, but I grab her wrist.

“Can you check it’s him before you open the door?”

“Of course. I got one of those door cameras installed after Mr Taylor turned up unannounced. It doubles as CCTV as well, so if we get any unwanted visitors, we can follow up afterwards.”

The doorbell rings again, and Joanna checks her phone. She shows me the live feed. Finn is standing at the door, looking impatient and holding a pizza box. I nod, and she goes to the door.

“Come in. Do you want me to plate that up for you, or will you eat out of the box?”

“The box is fine, thanks. Becky, how are you doing?” He grins at me, but sits on an armchair. I try not to feel disappointed at the lack of physical contact. This is a business meeting after all.

Joanna does the hostess bit, making sure we’re all provided with drinks, and that she and I have a good supply of chocolate biscuits. But once we’re all sitting down, the room goes quiet: that awkward silence where everyone is hoping another person will start the conversation.

Finn’s the first to break it. “So how are you planning to help with this investigation? Becky knows only too well that murder is a police matter.”

I glance at Joanna and she nods.

“We know that, Finn, but we’re already working on a case that links into this in a strange way.” I explain about Penny. “So we’ve got some lines of enquiry. Penny asked us to find out about Troy’s fans, in case one of them is her stalker.”

“It seems a bit unlikely.” Finn finishes chewing the mouthful of pizza he took a moment ago. “Sorry. Yeah, why would the stalker of a female photographer want to kill a popstar’s wife?”

“We don’t know yet, but we