Free Dangerous Promises by Roberta Kray Page A

stuck to her story.
    Eventually, she’d been released, but this had only been a reprieve rather than an ending to the affair. Back in Haverlea, she’d had to go through it all again, this time under the cool, judgemental eyes of Inspector Gerald Frayne. He had not believed her; she had seen it in his gaze and in the tight, straight set of his mouth. Over and over he had tried to catch her out, phrasing the same questions in different ways.
    ‘Why did Mona Farrell call herself Anne?’
    ‘When we bumped into each other on the train, she told me that she didn’t like the name, that everyone called her Anne now.’
    ‘Really?’ Frayne said. ‘Only her family claim that no one ever referred to her that way.’
    ‘It’s what she told me.’ Sadie had given a light shrug. ‘I hadn’t seen her for years so…’
    ‘You didn’t think it was odd?’
    ‘Not everyone likes the name they’ve been given.’
    It had gradually become clear to Sadie that the inspector had nothing on her. Oh, plenty of suspicions, that was for sure, but nothing he could prove. There were witnesses to her being at the fairground, but no one had seen her with Mona Farrell or Peter Royston. In the end, unable to charge her with anything, Inspector Frayne had let her go.
    Although Sadie had finally managed to walk free, she had not escaped unscathed. Sometimes there was damage that could never be undone. The twisted mind of Mona Farrell had left a legacy and nothing could ever be the same again.
    She remembered the look in Joel’s eyes, the horror and the pity when he’d seen her again for the first time. But over the next few days, as the initial shock subsided, his concern had been replaced by confusion and an endless barrage of questions: What had she been doing in London? Why hadn’t she told him about Mona Farrell and ‘Anne’? Why hadn’t she called to let him know that she’d been attacked?
    ‘I was only away for a few days. None of this makes any sense, Sadie.’
    And he was right. It didn’t. It was a tissue of lies, but she had no choice. She couldn’t tell him the truth. To do that would have meant asking him to keep secrets, to scheme and deceive, to go against everything that made him who he was.
    Joel had known that she was hiding something and the knowledge was a barrier between them, a wall that grew higher by the day. Her silence only made things worse. By refusing to talk, to explain, she fed his suspicions, creating a distrust that ate away at their relationship. As Christmas approached it had become clear to both of them that something had been broken – and could never be fixed.
    Sadie finished her packing and took a final look round. Was there anything she’d missed? Her gaze skimmed the room, alighting on the framed photo on the dresser: her and Joel standing in the back garden with their arms round each other. She crossed the room and picked it up, a pain pulling at her heart as she ran her thumb across the glass, a final touch of his face before she left for ever.
    Before the tears could start, Sadie put the picture down again. She fastened the suitcase, took it down the stairs and left it by the front door. Then she went back up to the flat, stood by the window and waited for the taxi to arrive.
     
    Only a fraction of Gerald Frayne’s attention was on the Nine O’Clock News – unemployment down, a new Honda factory to be built in Sunderland; most of it was focused on the file balanced on his lap. He glanced up at the TV, sighed and returned his attention to the thick sheaf of papers.
    Nina looked over at him. ‘You’ll wear that file out. How many times have you been through it this week? I thought the case was closed.’
    ‘There’s something we’ve missed. I’m sure of it.’ Frustrated, he flicked back a few pages. ‘It doesn’t add up. I mean why would Mona Farrell kill Eddie Wise? There’s no rhyme or reason to it.’
    ‘But you said they found her fingerprints in his flat. And wasn’t there