The couple that offers the highest amount will see their daughter again. The losing couple will not. Make no mistake. One child will die.

When nine-year-old best friends Charlie and Amy disappear, two families are plunged into a living nightmare. A text message confirms the unthinkable; that the girls are the victims of a terrifying kidnapping.

And when a second text message pits the two families against each other for the life of their children, the clock starts ticking for D.I. Kim Stone and the squad.

Seemingly outwitted at every turn, as they uncover a trail of bodies, Stone realises that these ruthless killers might be the most deadly she has ever faced. And that their chances of bringing the girls home alive, are getting smaller by the hour…

Untangling a dark web of secrets from the families’ past might hold the key to solving this case. But can Kim stay alive long enough to do so? Or will someone’s child pay the ultimate price?

* * *

Chapter One

Black Country – March 2015

Kim Stone felt the rage burning within her. From the ignition point in her brain it travelled like electricity to the soles of her feet, then surged around again.

If her colleague, Bryant, was beside her now he would be urging her to calm down. To think before she acted. To consider her career, her livelihood.

So it was a good job she was on her own.

Pure Gym was situated on Level Street in Brierley Hill and ran between the Merry Hill shopping centre and the Waterfront office and bar complex.

It was Sunday lunchtime and the car park was full. She drove around once, spotting the car she sought before parking the Ninja right outside the front door. She didn’t plan on being there long.

She stepped into the foyer and approached the front desk. A pretty, toned woman smiled brightly and held out her hand. Kim guessed she was looking for some kind of membership card. Kim had a card of her own to show. Her warrant card.

‘I’m not a member but I do need a quick word with one of your patrons.’

The woman looked around as though needing to seek advice.

‘Police business,’ Kim stated. Kind of, she added to herself.

The woman nodded.

Kim looked at the directions board and knew exactly where she was heading. She took a left and found herself behind three rows of machines on which people were stepping, walking and jogging.

She looked along the rear views of people expending energy on going nowhere.

The one she was looking for was stepping up and down in the far corner. The long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail was the clue. The fact that her phone was in front of her on the display screen was the clincher.

Having found her target, Kim became oblivious to the sounds of people’s limbs lifting and striding or the curious glances she received as the only fully dressed person in the room.

All she cared about was one woman’s involvement in the death of a nineteen-year-old boy called Dewain.

Kim straddled the front of the machine. The shock on the face of Tracy Frost almost pierced her rage. But not quite.

‘A word?’ she asked, although it wasn’t really a question.

For a second the woman almost lost her footing and that would have been just too bad.

‘How the hell did you …?’ Tracy looked around. ‘Don’t tell me you used your badge to get in?’

‘A word, in private,’ Kim repeated.

Tracy continued to step.

‘Look, I’m happy to do it here,’ Kim said, raising her voice. ‘I’ll never see these people again.’

Kim could feel at least half the eyes in the room upon them already.

Tracy stepped backwards in a dismount, then reached for her phone.

Kim was surprised at the height of the woman and guessed her to be five two at best. Kim had never seen her without six-inch heels, whatever the weather.

Kim barged through the door to the ladies’ toilets and pushed Tracy against the wall. Her head missed the hand dryer by an inch.

‘What the fuck did you think you were doing?’ Kim screamed.

A cubicle door opened and a teenager scarpered out of the room. They were now alone.

‘You can’t touch me like—’

Kim stepped back so that only a sliver of space existed between them. ‘How the hell could you break that story, you stupid bitch? He’s dead, now. Dewain Wright is dead because of you.’

Tracy Frost, local reporter and all-round pond scum, blinked twice as Kim’s words found her brain. ‘But … my … story …’

‘Your story got him killed, you stupid cow.’

Tracy began to shake her head. Kim nodded. ‘Oh yes.’

Dewain Wright had been a teenager from the Hollytree estate. He’d been in a gang called the Hollytree Hoods for about three years and wanted to get out. The gang had got wind of it and stabbed him, leaving him for dead. They thought they’d killed him but a passer-by had performed CPR. That was when Kim had been called in to investigate attempted murder.

Her first instruction had been to conceal the fact that he was still alive from everyone except his family. She had known that if word got back to Hollytree the gang would find a way to finish him off.

She had spent that night in the chair beside his bed, praying he would defy the prognosis and breathe on his own. She had held his hand, offering him her own energy to find the strength to come back. The courage he’d shown in trying to change his life and battle the fates had touched her. She had wanted an opportunity to know the brave young man who had decided that gang life was not for him.

Kim leaned in close and speared Tracy with her eyes. There was no escape. ‘I begged you not to break the story but you just couldn’t help yourself, could you? It was all about being first, wasn’t it? Are you so bloody desperate to get noticed by the nationals you’d throw away a kid’s life?’ Kim screamed in her face. ‘Well, for your sake I hope they do notice you – because there’s no place for you here any more. I intend to make sure of it.’

‘It wasn’t because of—’

‘Of course it was because of you,’ Kim raged. ‘I don’t know how you found out he was still alive but he’s dead now. And this time it’s real.’

Confusion contorted her features. The stupid woman wanted to speak but couldn’t find any words. Kim wouldn’t have listened anyway.

‘You know he was trying to get out, don’t you? Dewain was a decent kid just trying not to die.’

‘It couldn’t have been because of me,’ Tracy said, as the colour began to return to her face.

‘Yes, Tracy, it was,’ Kim said emphatically. ‘The blood of Dewain Wright is on your grubby little hooves.’

‘I was only doing my job. The world had a right to know.’

Kim stepped in closer.

‘I swear to God, Tracy, I will not rest until the closest you come to a newspaper is driving the delivery—’

Her words were cut off by the ringing of her mobile phone.

Tracy took the opportunity to step out of Kim’s reach.

‘Stone,’ she answered.

‘I need you at the station. Now.’

Detective Chief Inspector Woodward wasn’t the warmest of bosses but he normally took the time to offer some kind of curt greeting.

Kim’s mind worked quickly. He was calling her on Sunday lunchtime after insisting that she take the day off. And he was already pissed off at something.

‘I’m on my way, Stacey. Get me a dry white wine,’ she said, hanging up the phone. If her boss was confused because she’d just called him Stacey, she’d explain it to him later.

No way was she going to reveal an urgent call from her boss while standing within spitting distance of the most despicable reporter she’d ever met.

It could be one of two things. Either she was in a shitload of trouble or there was something big kicking off. Neither scenario would benefit from this lowlife hearing the conversation.

She turned back to Tracy Frost. ‘Just don’t think this is over. I will find a way to make you pay for what you did. I promise,’ Kim said, opening the bathroom door.

‘I’ll have your job for this,’ Tracy shouted after her.

‘Crack on,’ Kim tossed over her shoulder. A nineteen-year-old had died last night, for nothing. These weren’t the best days she’d ever had.

And she had a feeling that this one was about to get worse.