By Thursday afternoon, heading southwest on the M5, Emily had decided to ignore Harriet’s standoffish routine. The elder Curtis, in the front passenger seat to Emily’s left, hadn’t exchanged one word with Pru and Silas who, along with the picnic basket of snacks, occupied the back seat. Babs’s phone message about the stonewalling at the hearing wasn’t at the forefront of her mind either.
As she passed Wellington, moving closer to the switch-off to the A38 and echoes of Dartmoor, Emily mulled over the “two birds” Doc was going to kill with one stone, which Will had divulged during Emily’s quick call to him that morning. In his trademark style, Will hemmed and hawed and asked her to let it ride, and remember to stay clear of the slightest sign of trouble. To placate him, Emily had replied s
