Free Blood on the Sand by Pauline Rowson Page B

Somerfield couldn't go in the shower with her,' Cantelli said defensively.
       'Why not? She's a bloody woman too,' Horton snapped. Shit! This was the last thing he'd expected.
       'She's not gone back to the burnt-out house,' Cantelli said, the rain pouring off his face, his dark eyes anxious. 'I suppose she could have returned to where she found her brother's body.'
       Horton cursed. 'Check the hospital staff for any sightings of her,
    Barney. I'll head for the Duver.' 'Andy,' Gaye called out after him. 'Remember what I said.' He would, but it wouldn't make any difference.

SIX

    H e reached the car park at the Duver in record time, and miraculously without getting a speeding ticket, or killing himself. There wasn't a car in sight. The rain was sheeting down. The biting wind cut into his flesh and shook the gorse with the fury of an outraged god. From beyond the beach huts came the thunderous pounding of waves crashing on to the shore. Not a day to be at sea, he thought, hurrying to the place where he'd discovered Thea leaning over her brother's body, without any real hope of finding her there. She wasn't. Only the flapping blue and white police tape greeted him.
       So where was she? Had she voluntarily left the hospital or had she been abducted? Christ, he didn't even want to consider the latter, but he had to. Her abductor could be the arsonist and his intruder and the person who had been watching him and Thea here yesterday.
       His eyes searched through the slicing rain for a hideout where this person could have watched the sorrowful scene being played out. There were plenty of places to hide: the numerous bushes, the caravan park to the north on the hill and the large houses on the gentle hill slopes to the west, which rose to the village of St Helens. Anyone with a pair of binoculars could have seen them.
       Frustrated and concerned, he returned to the boat and punched in Cantelli's number.
       'There's no sign of her,' Cantelli greeted him mournfully. 'We've put out an all-ports alert but we're keeping it from the media in case it puts her life in danger.'
       'I'll skin Somerfield alive,' snarled Horton.
       'It's not her fault, Andy,' Cantelli said gently, then added, 'But if it makes you feel any better Uckfield's already done that.'
       Horton took a breath and mentally got a grip on his emotions. For someone whose personal motto was 'control at all times and never show what you're feeling', he was failing miserably.
       Cantelli continued, 'There is one bit of news though; a nurse on A & E says she saw Thea climb into a car. She's definite about that because she was on duty when Thea Carlsson was brought in so she recognized her.'
       'What car? Description of the driver?' asked Horton eagerly.
       'She didn't get the registration or make, she was in a hurry and she didn't think much of it, but it was a dark-coloured saloon, a newish model. No description of the driver. Doesn't help us much, but the nurse says that Thea went willingly. No one was forcing her inside.'
       Horton wasn't sure he liked the sound of that, especially the bit about a dark-coloured saloon. But if it wasn't Arina Sutton's killer, was it a friend? Had she lied about not knowing anyone? Had she telephoned this person from the hospital and asked him to collect her? Did that mean she could be involved in the murder of her brother after all? No. He didn't want to believe it.
       Cantelli said, 'Uckfield's on his way to see you, Andy. Says he'll meet you at the nature reserve opposite Port St Helens. Do you know where he means?'
       Horton did. Uckfield could have picked a drier location, but there was logic in his choice. No one would be on the footpath that skirted Brading Marshes in this weather. And it was screened from the road by trees, shrubs and the lagoons.
       Locking the boat, Horton hurried across the harbour causeway to find Uckfield's silver BMW already parked in the small yard