It was late. Vince slumped on the timber floor of the cottage’s porch, a half empty bottle of scotch in one hand and an empty glass in the other. He stared into the dark. Little stirred in the cold but in the distance, the mournful howl of a lonely dog periodically echoed.
In the couple of hours he’d sat here there’d been a handful of cars go by and each time, he’d jumped. Except there was no more bad news to be had. Melanie was safe and recovering. Her physical injures would heal. And in hospital she’d come to no harm. He’d wanted to stay all night but was ushered out by nurses who rightly told him Melanie would need him in the morning as the drugs wore off.
He’d identified Susie and David’s bodies after leaving the police station. Then spoken to the funeral home.
And he’d kept his hea
