Elin feels a tug on her heart. “Yes. I’ve seen the CCTV. I know you don’t want to ask, but as far as I’m aware, the guests took it in stride after Farrah shared the news. Life goes on. They’re more focused on their holiday.”
His features soften, relief writ large across his face. “It feels shitty even caring when something like this has happened—”
She nods. “I know. Her family is here, in total shock.”
“I bet.” He rubs a hand over his forehead. “What about Farrah? Have you talked?”
“It’s actually her I’ve been dealing with. The general manager is off for a couple of days. Farrah’s holding down the fort.”
“How is she?”
“All right, given the circumstances.” She tips the screen again, away from the sun, and as she does, her eyes hook on a flash of color in the distance. A figure in a blue T-shirt and cap moving quickly past the rock.
“Good.” Will nudges his glasses up his nose with his finger. “So when are you back?”
“That’s the thing, I’m going to stay out here with Steed, tonight at least. A few loose ends I want to tie up.”
His expression is unreadable. “You’re comfortable doing that? After we talked about you taking it slow. Was this Anna’s request?”
“No, but she wouldn’t have sent me in the first place if she didn’t think I was ready.” Elin looks past the screen to where she’d seen the figure. The person is still moving, heading in the direction of the woodland beyond. As if they’ve sensed Elin watching, they briefly glance in her direction. The figure turns back before she can make out any facial features, but she feels a catch at the very edge of her mind.
“I get it, but I’m worried . . .” He looks away from the screen. A heavy sigh. “Something’s come up, on Twitter. You know I follow Torhun Police?”
She nods.
“Well . . .” His gaze pulls back to meet hers. “Someone’s put out a tweet with a photo, and they’ve tagged Torhun Police. I’m pretty sure the photo is of you.”
“What kind of photo?” Her voice wavers.
He can’t quite meet her gaze. “It’s probably best if you take a look yourself. I’ll ping it over. I reckon they’ve scraped it offline.”
She opens the message, pulse quickening.
It’s her at a training exercise in Exeter a few years ago. She was standing next to a senior officer, although here he’s been cut out of the shot. That in itself already makes the image disconcerting, but it’s nothing compared to what has been done to her face.
Someone’s gone to the trouble of digitally scratching away her eyes.
Two precisely etched-out hollows.
Her flesh crawls. The effect . . . it’s horrifying. It makes her look soulless . . . a blank.
Her hands are clammy around the phone, the blood pounding in her ears.
Jabbing at the screen, she closes the image.
“So . . .” Will trails off. “Pretty odd, isn’t it?”
“Weird, but I’ve had something like it before, do you remember?” She desperately tries to project a nonchalance that she doesn’t feel. “During the Hayler case?” She’d had several messages then, threatening in tone, from different accounts.
In the throes of the investigation, she hadn’t given it more than a passing thought—she’d guessed it might be Hayler’s acquaintances or family, maybe even someone random. An oddball using the fact her name was in the press.
“But none of those had a photograph in the tweet, did they?” Will persists.
“Well, no . . .” She hesitates, aware this could escalate. “I’ll tell Anna, and look—” The words are out before she can stop them. This is her default: to try to stop an emotionally difficult conversation in its tracks. “If you’re worried, why don’t you come out for the weekend? Farrah has a spare villa. A cancellation.”
The tension in his face dissolves. Will breaks into the smile she loves most—an instant, face-cracking smile, as if the sun has suddenly pulled out from behind a cloud.
“I’d love to.” This is his kind of thing, a random weekend away. “Do you want me to bring anything?”
“Just some summer stuff. Not much, it’s only a few days max.”
He nods. “Right, it’s nearly three now. I can get a water taxi over at, say, sixish?”
“Sounds good.” Stepping out from beneath the overhang, Elin looks to the rock. She can only see the back of the figure as it’s swallowed up in the dark mass of woodland.