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Since Liam had alerted
her to Chloe’s disappearance, her sleep had been disturbed by dreams about Amber
and Bella-Kaye. Now with Kay Long’s confession it was likely to be worse.
    She had bought her converted warehouse when she qualified as a psychiatrist two years
earlier, getting a good price because the renovation had been abandoned before completion.
Showering in a concrete square was a long way off what the previous owner must have
envisaged but Natalie liked it as it was. From the outside it looked like the other
two and three level factories that surrounded her, a motley assortment of red and
painted brickwork adorned with graffiti, set back from bluestone gutters.
    The distinguishing feature was a corrugated-iron clad walkway on the first level
that spanned the narrow lane and connected her with the fire stairwell in the building
opposite. The real estate agent had described the anomaly as a Bridge of Sighs, and
it was the one thing she had changed. The enclosed bridge was now lined with bookshelves,
and at the end, instead of a flimsy connecting door, there was an electronically
controlled sliding panel, unrecognisable on either side as an entrance or exit. No
one apart from the other building’s owner and the security company that installed
it knew it was there, and even if they did, they couldn’t get in.
    Finding the doorbell required dedication. You had to know that a wrought-iron version
of Munch’s Scream was hiding it, and be prepared to lift it up in all its agony.
Visitors were a rarity.
    It was Tom, who lived locally, a six pack of Coronas in hand. Stocky and broad shouldered,
he had shaved the beard a few years earlier. He was the drummer in her band but still
looked more balding ex-biker than Charlie Watts. She kissed him chastely on the cheek.
    Tom rubbed Bob’s head on the way to the fridge. The bird bit him. ‘Ouch.’ He sucked
his finger. ‘Ever thought of getting a normal pet? You know, a cat or dog that likes
to cuddle up?’
    Natalie didn’t bother answering. Bob suited her fine.
    ‘Anything to eat?’ He helped himself to a beer and tossed one to Natalie.
    ‘Nup.’ She joined him on the sofa. ‘I’ll call for pizza.’ She added, ‘And then I’m
sending you home.’
    There was a moment of disappointment, but Tom recovered quickly. ‘Was someone just
here?’ he asked.
    ‘No. Why?’
    ‘Guy looked like he was checking the place out.’
    ‘Maybe going to make me an offer.’ Tom didn’t generally make a nuisance of himself
but he could be annoyingly territorial.
    ‘Check your locks.’

Chapter 6
    Friday night she arrived half an hour early at the Halfpenny to have a burger with
the band. She’d been singing with The Styx since her early twenties and they had
a semi-residency there. The songs—both the ones she and Shaun wrote, and the favourites
they covered—were on the sexually explicit side. It wasn’t a persona she wanted her
patients to see. The wig she wore on stage, short blonde and spiked, and the heavy
makeup were only partly stagecraft.
    It was 9.30; the kitchen was technically closed, but Vince had a soft spot for Natalie
and would whip up burgers himself if he had to. There were a few upcoming gigs to
discuss, including some country ones.
    Shaun, the keyboard player, juggled his beer, burger and pen. The blue band of his
straw hat matched the blue of his glasses and the flowers of his shirt. ‘So how about
Welbury? They need a fill-in Friday after next.’
    Welbury. Travis and Tiphanie territory. Natalie felt as if fate was pushing; she
pushed back. ‘It’s a dump.’
    ‘I’m not driving,’ said Tom. ‘Someone coined my car last time we were up there.’
    Shaun looked to Gil.
    ‘I guess I can do one night away.’ Gil, the plumber-cum-bass player, sounded less
reluctant than he should have been to leave his pregnant wife.
    ‘They pay okay,’ said Shaun. ‘Beats doing another wedding.’
    Two all. Shaun’s pen hovered. ‘Welbury crowd too tough for