Page 100 of The Guilty Girl

‘Just a minute, what are you doing?’ Liz said as Lottie knelt down.

Undaunted, she tugged at the nail. The board lifted easily, revealing a cavity between the floor and the ceiling of the room below.

‘I don’t understand,’ Liz said, her voice quivering.

Lottie reached in.

Lying in its underfloor grave was a clear plastic bag. Inside it were at least half a dozen vials containing a bluish liquid. If she wasn’t mistaken, this was GHB, commonly known as the date rape drug.

She held up the bag, questioning Liz with her eyes.

‘I had no idea,’ the woman whispered, shaking her head incredulously.

Lottie believed her.

* * *

Sharon couldn’t bear to watch her mother crying any longer. After she let the detective out the front door, she was surprised that the other guard remained standing in their kitchen.

‘Why aren’t you leaving too?’

‘My name is Martina.’

‘I know that.’

‘I’m here for you and your mother.’

‘We don’t need you.’

‘I want to keep you both safe and keep the reporters away.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘When word gets out about Jake, they will try to talk to your mother.’

‘What word? Jake didn’t do anything wrong. That stuff hidden in his room, it’s not his.’

‘Don’t worry. Everything will be sorted out.’

Sharon turned away. With Jake gone, who would mind her when Mam was at work? No one, that was who. The pretty guard wouldn’t be around forever.

Gulping down a sob, she twisted the bottom of her pyjama top into a knot. What if the bad man who’d killed her big brother came for her next? Was he a toxic man? Poisonous and dangerous? Yes, he was.

‘Hey, sweetie, don’t cry.’

The pretty guard was holding out a tissue.

Sharon took it and blew her nose. ‘It’s not fair, so it’s not.’

‘You loved your brother very much, didn’t you?’

‘Yeah, and I loved my daddy and he’s gone too. I hope my mam doesn’t die …’

She felt an arm slip around her shoulders.

‘I won’t let anything happen to her. Want to help me make breakfast?’

‘Not hungry. I’ve to get dressed because I want to call round to my friend Charlene.’