The Bad Things: A gripping crime thriller full of twists and turns
A darkly compelling psychological thriller, full of twists and turns, perfect for fans of SISTER SISTER by Sue Fortin and INTO THE WATER by Paula Hawkins.We all have our secrets, some are just darker than others.Alex Devlin’s life changed forever fifteen years ago when her sister Sasha's two small children were snatched in broad daylight. Little Harry’s body was found a few days later, but Millie’s remains were never discovered.Now Jackie Wood, jailed as an accessory to the twins’ murder, has been released, her conviction quashed by the Appeal Court. Convinced Jackie can reveal where Millie is buried, Alex goes to meet her.But the unexpected information Wood reveals shocks Alex to the core and threatens to uncover the dark secret she has managed to keep under wraps for the past fifteen years. Because in the end, can we ever really know what is in the hearts of those closest to us?
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This is a work of fiction. Any references to real people, living or dead, real events, businesses, organizations and localities are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. All names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the authorâs imagination or are used fictitiously, and their resemblance, if any, to real-life counterparts is entirely coincidental.
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First published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2015
Copyright © Mary-Jane Riley 2015
Mary-Jane Riley asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
Cover layout design by Micaela Alcaino © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2017
Cover photograph © Shutterstock.com
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Ebook Edition © AUGUST 2015 ISBN: 9780008153779
Version 2017-12-08
For Kim, Edward, Peter and Esme
The stench was overpowering. Katie squatted on her haunches and pulled at the zip. The material tore; the metal teeth nicked her finger. Thoughts flashed through her mind: should she wait? Could this be evidence? She lifted the lid. The sightless, decaying eyes of a child stared up at her. The little boy, for it must have been a boy, was dressed in blue Thomas the Tank Engine pyjamas. His legs had been folded beneath his body so that he fitted neatly into the space. It rather looked, thought Katie, as if heâd been packed up, ready for death.
The day Alex Devlinâs life imploded for the second time was one of those bleak February days in Suffolk when the light never got above murky and spring seemed months away. Outside, whey-faced men and women were hunched inside their coats, trying to get their business done and move on. Shopping, working, maybe just passing the time in a warm coffee shop on the High Street. The streets of Sole Bay could be unforgiving.
Standing in the kitchen of her little terraced house with her third cup of coffee of the day, Alex rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the tension in them. She turned on the radio, hoping some background noise would help her relax.
âAnd now the news with Susan Rae.â
She hoped the couple of hoursâ work sheâd put in polishing her news feature about an undercover policeman whoâd infiltrated the murky world of Eastern European organized crime had been worth the early start. Sheâd been awake since four â Christ, always four; that time of night when everything seems to be at its worst â doing her usual bout of worrying about her sixteen-year-old and how she could make ends meet. Two hours of tossing and turning had been enough, and that was when sheâd decided to get up and get on with some work.
âFive people have died in a multiple-vehicle accident on the M25. It happened during the rush hour in thick fogâ¦â
Now she wanted a few minutes to herself before Gus blew in moaning and groaning.
Too late.
âSo?â He glared at her, mouth a sulky pout and arms crossed, his slightly aggressive âwhateverâ stance perfected.
It was as if the night, the dark, the four a.m. worrying hadnât happened; her son was carrying on the argument that had begun the evening before. Alex hoped heâd forgotten about it. Some hope.
She rubbed her temples, fighting against the headache that was slowly but inevitably building, pulsing behind one eye. âChoose your battlesâ had been her mantra for the past two years, since her adorable boy with his blonde curls and loving cuddles had turned into a sullen teenager â all grunts and hormones.
âThe Ukrainian opposition in Kiev say they have pulled out of the City Hall they have been occupying for theâ¦â
âSo no you canât go skiing with the school. Iâm sorry. Nothingâs changed overnight.â Alex said it as gently as she could. She would have loved him to go; of course she would if she had the money. Cash was tight, work not exactly coming in thick and fast. But it wasnât just the money. She had real difficulty letting her son go and allowing him to spread his wings. He knew it and resented her for it.
