Description

Sunny afternoons are the worst for a recovering alcoholic. But I’m doing OK and I’m proud of myself. Then the gate rattles. It’s the police and judging from their expressions, they’re not here with good news.

As I face the officers, I try to dismiss what they’re telling me. My husband, Rob, can’t possibly be dead – I only saw him this morning.

I don’t tell them that we rowed. Besides, it’s not even relevant.

It breaks my heart that our last words were angry ones, and now, I’ve not only got to identify his body, but I’ve also got to break the news to our son. I’ve never felt so alone in my life and don’t know if I can resist the urge to find comfort in a bottle of brandy. Especially when the police reveal that Rob’s death wasn’t an accident – that he’s been the victim of a hit and run.

And it seems I’m the prime suspect.

I’ve already lost my husband, now it seems I could also lose everything else. Every piece of my life is slipping away as the evidence mounts against the person with the most apparent motive – me.

And I have no alibi.

But others wished Rob harm, those whose motives are only coming to light now he’s gone. He’s taken so many secrets and lies to his grave that I barely know which one of them to begin with.

And it’s too late to confront him.