Free Behind Closed Doors: The gripping debut thriller everyone is raving about by B A Paris Page A

wondering where he had gone. My eyes fell on the clock on the bedside table and I saw that it was nine o’clock. I tried to imagine why Jack hadn’t answered his phone, why he hadn’t been able to take my call and wondered if one of the other partners had come to thehotel to talk to him. When another ten minutes had gone by, I dialled his number again. This time it went straight through to his voicemail.
    ‘Jack, please phone me back,’ I said sharply, knowing he must have turned his mobile off after my last call. ‘I need to know where you are.’
    I heaved my suitcase onto the bed, opened it and took out the beige trousers and shirt I planned to wear for travelling the following day. Pulling them on over my camisole and knickers, I dressed quickly, put the key card into my pocket and left the room, taking my telephone with me. Too agitated to wait for the lift, I took the stairs down to the lobby and headed for the reception desk.
    ‘Mrs Angel, isn’t it?’ The young man behind the desk smiled at me. ‘How can I help you?’
    ‘Actually, I’m looking for my husband. Have you seen him anywhere?’
    ‘Yes, he came down about an hour ago, not long after you checked in.’
    ‘Do you know where he went? Did he go to the bar, by any chance?’
    He shook his head. ‘He went out through the front doors. I presumed he was going to fetch something from the car.’
    ‘Did you see him come back in?’
    ‘Now that you mention it, no, I didn’t. But I was busy checking in another client at one point, so it could bethat I didn’t see him.’ He eyed the phone in my hand. ‘Have you tried phoning him?’
    ‘Yes, but his mobile’s switched off. He’s probably in the bar, drowning his sorrows that he’s now a married man.’ I smiled, trying to make light of it. ‘I’ll go and have a look.’
    I made my way to the bar but there was no sign of Jack. I checked the various lounges, the fitness room and the swimming pool. On the way to check the two restaurants, I left another message on his voicemail, my voice breaking with anxiety.
    ‘No luck?’ The receptionist gave me a sympathetic look as I arrived back in the lobby on my own.
    I shook my head. ‘I’m afraid I can’t find him anywhere.’
    ‘Have you looked if your car is still in the car park? At least you’d know whether or not he’d left the hotel.’
    I went out through the front doors and followed the path round to the car park at the back of the hotel. The car wasn’t where Jack had left it nor was it anywhere else. Not wanting to go back through the lobby and face the receptionist again, I went in through the back door and ran up the stairs to the bedroom, praying that I would find Jack already there, that he would have arrived back while I’d been out looking for him. When I found the bedroom empty, I burst into tears of frustration. I told myself that the fact the car was missing went someway to explaining why he hadn’t answered his phone, because he never answered his phone while he was driving. But if he’d had to go back to the office on urgent business,why hadn’t he knocked on the bathroom door and told me? And if he hadn’t wanted to disturb me in my bath, why hadn’t he at least left me a note?
    Increasingly worried, I dialled his number and left a tearful message saying that if I didn’t hear from him within the next ten minutes I was going to phone the police. I knew that the police would be my last port of call, that before phoning them I would phone Adam, but I hoped that in mentioning the police Jack would realise just how worried I was.
    They were the longest ten minutes of my life. Then, just as I was about to call Adam, my phone beeped, telling me I’d received a text message. Letting out a shaky sigh of relief, I opened it and when I saw that it was from Jack, tears of relief fell from my eyes, making it impossible to read what he had written. But it didn’t matter because I knew what it would say, I knew it would say that