Lying Dead Read Online Free Page A

the road.
        ‘Yes, that’s me just back to open up the house.’ Her Glasgow accent suggested that it had been only recently refined. ‘Here, it’s great to see you! Like last summer, all over again.’ Her smile was an invitation.
        ‘Yes, well,’ Niall said flatly, then added, ‘Adrian coming too?’ He spoke without enthusiasm. Adrian McConnell was a sardonic, smart-ass accountant he’d fallen out with over the extension to the marina years ago and the man never lost the opportunity to put the boot in. Truth to tell, his own ill-advised response to Kim’s overtures last year probably had more to do with private revenge than anything else, and it didn’t compensate for her personality which, once the novelty was over, affected him like nails scraping on a blackboard.
        ‘Not till tomorrow, with Kelly and Jason for the half-term week.’ She pushed back her hair and gave him a sidelong glance. ‘I’m all by my wee self tonight.’ Then she added, with an unenthusiastic glance towards the car, ‘Well, apart from him, unfortunately.’ She gestured towards the child confined in the car, whose protests were starting to sound tearful. ‘He’s such a crabby little sod.’
        ‘Yes. Look, Kim, I’m sorry – I’ve got to get on. It’s the trials tomorrow, and this bloody dog doesn’t seem to know its business.’
        Kim gave a throaty gurgle. ‘Oh, Niall, you never learn, do you! Glutton for punishment!’ she giggled. ‘But don’t you worry, pet, I’ll be there, cheering you on. I never miss it – I always think the trials are the proper start to a Drumbreck summer. Come here and I’ll give you a big hug, just for luck.’
        Niall, with resistance in every line of his body, submitted. Kim embraced him, then patted his cheek.
        ‘Well, I suppose I’ll need to get on with heaving all this stuff up into the cottage. It’s so hot, though – really sticky!’ She looked at him hopefully, then, as no offer of help was forthcoming, said, ‘You know what? The marina should be hiring out porters. There’s a real business opportunity.’
        Niall had turned away already. Sulkily, Kim went back to the car, where the child had started wailing.
        ‘Oh, you just shut up, Gary!’ she snarled. ‘You’re not going anywhere till I get all this dragged upstairs, so you may as well get used to it.’
     
    Scowling, Niall Murdoch turned away. Stupid bitch! He’d have to get free of her somehow. Not that he suffered from pangs of conscience: given his home life he reckoned he was entitled to do whatever he liked. His wife wouldn’t care, and his daughter treated him like something she’d found on the sole of her shoe.
        But Kim McConnell, unfortunately, wasn’t the sort graciously to accept a hint that time had moved on; she had a big fat mouth and a spiteful nature. He didn’t appreciate her comment about the sheepdog trials either, even if he knew people laughed behind his back.
        Jenna had seen to that. ‘Face it,’ she told him, with the sort of brutality you shouldn’t have to take from your wife, ‘you’ll never train dogs like your father did. You haven’t the personality for it. And even if you did win, you wouldn’t be proving anything because he’s been dead these past six years – remember?’
        Niall had actually believed that once the old man wasn’t there, putting a hex on him with his critical eye and mocking his failures, he’d have the confidence to win. It mattered; somehow his father, rot his black soul, had instilled this into Niall’s consciousness as a measure of the man.
        It was hardly asking for the moon. All Niall wanted to do was take the crown, just once, in the piddling little kingdom of the local sheepdog trials which his father had for a decade made his own. Then he could retire gracefully, but despite his best efforts at training a number of dogs, years of humiliation had followed, particularly unpleasant