A Body in the Lakes by Graham Smith (great books of all time .TXT) 📕

had to bat down the airbag from the centre of the steering wheel. The next thing she saw was Stanton looming over the windscreen. He had something in his hand and was swinging it downwards. A determined, desperate look on his face.

Something was off about the scene. It took a moment, but Beth realised the car was on its side. Down and to her left, O’Dowd was moaning.

The already broken windscreen caved under Stanton’s onslaught.

Beth fumbled into her pocket for something she could use to defend herself against Stanton.

Trussed by the seatbelt and hanging sideways, it was a struggle for her to even get her hands into her pockets let alone mount any kind of defence. The lower part of her right arm was a ball of agony and she presumed she’d either broken or sprained it during the crash.

She moved her feet to assess the condition of her legs. While they protested the movement, the pains she felt were minor compared to her right arm.

As her left hand felt for the pepper spray Beth realised she’d not yet replaced the one she’d emptied into Cooper’s face.

Stanton’s fingers grasped the edge of the now-shattered windscreen and hauled it from its rubber mounting. ‘Quick.’ He thrust a hand inside. ‘I can smell petrol, you have to get out.’

As soon as he mentioned the petrol, it was all Beth could smell.

The urge to thrash her way free was overwhelming, but Beth knew that she’d fall on top of O’Dowd as soon as she released the seatbelt.

She reached a hand downwards and craned her neck over so she could guide her hand.

O’Dowd’s seatbelt sprang free with an audible snap.

The DI gave a series of grumbled curses as Stanton helped her climb through the windscreen.

As soon as O’Dowd was clear, Beth got herself ready for the impact when she released her own seatbelt.

With her right hand out of action and her left needed to unclip the seatbelt, there was no way she could prevent herself falling across the car and slamming into the door. Sure she could brace her legs to try and slow her descent, but that would only have limited effect.

There was one last thing to do before she reached for the seatbelt clasp. Using her left hand to give her right arm extra support, she tucked her right arm below the seatbelt so it wouldn’t snag when she fell.

By the time her fingers found the clasp, she was bathed in sweat from the effort, the agony in her arm and the fear that the car would explode into a fireball at any moment.

Beth pressed the catch and tucked her head into her shoulder as she felt gravity pull her downwards.

There was a thump to her head and her vision blurred, but she didn’t pass out this time.

Stanton was back at the windscreen. ‘Come on. Quick.’ His hands reached through the opening and grasped her right arm.

Beth screamed. She hadn’t experienced pain like that since the bottle was plunged into her cheek.

‘Sorry. Quick, give me your other arm.’

With Stanton’s help, Beth managed to clamber free. Her legs were unsteady as he led her over to where he’d left O’Dowd.

The DI was sitting in an untidy heap with blood pouring from a cut on her head. ‘What happened?’

‘We crashed.’ Beth let Stanton lower her to the ground then looked up at him. ‘Why did you come back for us?’

Stanton’s head shook as sadness overcame his face. ‘Too many people have died because of me. I couldn’t let there be any more deaths.’

Beth levered her way to her feet. Reached for her handcuffs. ‘You know I’m going to have to arrest you, don’t you?’ When Stanton didn’t answer, she pressed on. ‘Howard Stanton, I’m arresting—’

‘No, you’re not.’

Stanton trotted away from Beth, his course leading him back towards the little VW.

Beth lurched after him, but her myriad injuries meant she couldn’t begin to match his pace.

Rather that skirt the VW, as she’d expected him to, he climbed inside and sat on the window of the passenger door.

‘Stay back.’ He lifted his right hand while fishing in his shirt pocket with his left.

Beth kept going until she saw what was in his left hand.

‘No. Howard, listen to me. Don’t do it. There’s always another way.’

The faint wail of an approaching siren sounded in the distance.

Stanton’s head shook as he retrieved a cigarette from the packet and put it to his lips.

‘I’m going to see Karen, Detective.’ A wistful look filled his face. ‘Please, walk away now. I’m going to light this cigarette at the count of three and I don’t want you hurt.’

‘No! Don’t do it. Yes, you’ll go to jail for what you’ve done, but that’s got to be better than dying.’ Despite her words and the horror of what Stanton was about to do, Beth started walking backwards away from her car.

Stanton lifted the lighter so it was in front of his face. ‘One.’

Beth could do nothing but watch, powerless to help. A part of her was saying that having saved her, there was little chance that Stanton would blow himself up when she would get caught by the blast. However, his whole demeanour had changed once he’d got her and O’Dowd free. He’d morphed from being a desperate rescuer into a fatalist.

‘Two.’ Stanton’s thumb rested on the lighter’s wheel.

The approaching sirens were getting louder.

A smile appeared on Stanton’s face. ‘Just you wait there, Karen. I’m coming to join you. Three.’

The lighter sparked and a fireball engulfed Beth’s little VW.

Beth felt a whoosh of warm air and heard Stanton’s agonised screams as he burned.

Blue lights strobed across the leaves of the trees as Beth sank down and put her good arm around her DI.

The gesture wasn’t to give comfort. It was to receive it.

Eighty-Two

Beth lay down her fork then took a sip of her fresh orange juice. Today had been a trying one and if she had a glass of wine she’d only want to drink the whole bottle. Across the table, Ethan