By Sally Spencer
It really is some of the most brutal murders leader Inspector Woodend has ever encountered . . . Pamela Rainsford, chanced on on a lonely canal course in the midst of a gloomy evening, has not just been raped and strangled, yet her face has been hacked to items. firstly it kind of feels a random killing, yet because the case progresses, Woodend starts off to suspect that the loss of life of the mild-mannered, first rate secretary could have been end result of the her personal mystery existence. And one other mystery lifestyles is having its results, too because of his now-ended affair with Sergeant Monika Paniatowski, Inspector Bob Rutter's marriage is falling aside. because the research proceeds, Woodend reveals himself commencing to comprehend the advanced internet of lies and deceits which Pamela Rainsford has spun round herself, yet not anything he discovers might ever arrange him for a moment demise this one a lot toward domestic!
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Extra info for Dying in the Dark (Chief Inspector Woodend, Book 13)
Holding on for her life, before it slipped away entirely, in falls and headaches and the horrifying sense of sliding away into insanity. All the bad things simply . . stopped. Her taut muscles loosened, her eyes closed, her nose was buried in a sweater that smelled of fabric softener and man, with a faint tang of smoke. She was being held tightly, engulfed in strong arms and warmth and her mind simply blanked. She was so used to the background buzz of anxiety and fear in her head, a constant hiss of static tinged with darkness, that she simply blissed out at its absence.
Interested. ” It had been so long since she‟d felt anything like this, since she‟d been part of that whole manwoman thing. Her only contact with men over the past nine months had been with doctors and physical therapists, then lawyers as she settled her father‟s estate. She‟d nearly forgotten that she was a woman. Daniel Weston made her feel female once again. She felt a connection to him and even though it was probably a sign of her craziness, because the connection was in her dreams, right at this moment she didn‟t feel cold and alone and listless, which had been her default emotional setting for more time than she cared to think about.
He touched his baseball cap with his index finger in a salute, then took off with a squeal of t ires, leaving her completely alone on the deserted street. The trip had been such a nightmare. She‟d regretted it the moment she‟d left the house in the pouring rain. The taxi had got caught in a jam due to the sudden downpour, tipping her out at departures barely in time to make it to the gate. Two huge Airbuses were boarding and the gates were crowded with far more passengers than the relatively small Tampa airport was equipped to handle.