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turned into a kiss. Jake allowed himself a smile. Over the past few months there hadn’t been enough laughter in their house – or kissing, or anything else. Leigh’s fingertips lightly brushed over his ribs, sending a pleasant shudder through his torso. Jake decided to push his luck. He playfully cupped her butt, prompting more giggles. And another kiss to his chest, this one just below his nipple.
    ‘You’re very hot,’ she muttered.
    ‘Not as hot as you are, honey,’ he growled in his best Bogart accent.
    ‘You’re so cheesy,’ she said. She lightly blew on the small trace of saliva she had left on his skin. She knew that drove him crazy. Maybe he wasn’t pushing his luck at all.
    He ran a finger down the path of her spine. His touch was light over her thin cotton nightie.
    ‘That feels good,’ she whispered.
    Encouraged, he stroked her buttocks with his other hand, moving in big, slow circles, his fingers gliding over the cotton. Leigh drew in a sharp breath as she moved closer to him. Her body felt soft and warm. As his left hand continued to circle, his right reached the hem of the nightdress. Gently he pulled it up, but itwouldn’t budge. Leigh’s weight was pinning it firmly against the bed. He tugged a bit harder and was rewarded with the sound of tearing fabric.
    ‘Jesus, Jake, have you torn my best—’
    ‘Fuck it, it’s ruined now,’ he said, and he ripped up the front of the nightie.
    Leigh laughed. ‘You animal!’
    Grinning, Jake turned Leigh on to her back and moved on top of her. His left hand pushed aside the torn nightie and slid down her body.
    Suddenly, he heard a noise in the corridor. Jake reacted instinctively, sitting up and reaching for his gun. But a half-second later he realized it was his daughter, Faith. He took his gun from the bedside table and shoved it safely under the bed.
    Faith stood in the open doorway, looking down the landing, not saying a word.
    ‘Honey?’ Leigh called out.
    Faith didn’t say anything for a moment, then in a soft voice she said, ‘Mom?’
    ‘Are you all right, honey?’
    But Faith just stood there, looking ahead with a fixed gaze.
    ‘I think she’s sleepwalking,’ said Jake, pulling up his boxers and reaching for his dressing gown. She hadn’t sleepwalked in years. The move and the strain of a new baby and a live-in grandma were obviously taking their toll.
    He went over and took her gently by the shoulders.
    ‘Faith, baby,’ he whispered, ‘you need to wake up now.’
    Slowly the fixed look left her eyes. ‘Hi, Dad.’ She blinked slowly. ‘Can I sleep with you guys tonight?’
    ‘Sure, honey,’ Leigh said. They wouldn’t get to finish what they had started but suddenly Jake was too tired to care. He led Faith to the bed. She got in and curled up against her mother, her eyes closing instantly. Jake sat on the edge of the bed, wanting to make sure she was OK before heading downstairs to sleep on the couch.
    ‘It was a bad dream,’ she said to no one in particular. Her voice sounded dreamy, far away. ‘I was running, but I don’t know from what. And then I wasn’t running any more. I was hitting someone in the face.’
    There was a long pause, and Jake thought it was all over. But then she carried on, her voice thick with sleep: ‘It hurt him, and I felt bad about that. But I kept hitting him anyway. And I was holding Jakey, and I was worried about dropping him.’ She sounded shaken. ‘That’s all I remember.’
    Jake leaned forward and stroked her hair. ‘You shouldn’t worry about dropping the baby, little one. I dropped you on your head lots of times, and you turned out fine.’
    Faith smiled, then snuggled into her mother and was lost to the world.
    Jake took himself downstairs. And a few minutes later he was asleep, and smiling too.



10
Tuesday, 8 a.m.
    The sun had barely risen when Jake drove up to the station. He could see a group of people gathered around the entrance. Some he recognized as reporters but some