I Let You Go by Clare Mackintosh

chief had asked him to take the lead on an investigation into alleged money-laundering. Two nightclubs in the city centre were being used as a front for a variety of illicit activities, and there was a wealth of intelligence to wade through. With both nightclub owners prominent figures in the business community, Ray knew the chief was testing him, and he intended to rise to the challenge.
    He spent the rest of the afternoon going through Team Three’s cases. The DS, Kelly Proctor, was off on maternity leave, and Ray had asked the most experienced DC on that team to act up. Sean was doing a good job, but Ray wanted to make sure nothing slipped through the net while Kelly was away.
    It wouldn’t be long before Kate could be put forward for some acting duties, he thought. She was so bright, she could teach some of his more experienced detectives a thing or two, and she’d enjoy the challenge. He remembered the flash of defiance as she told him what she’d been doing on the hit-and-run: there was no denying she was dedicated.
    He wondered what was driving her. Was it simply that she didn’t want to be beaten by a case, or could she really see a positive result from it? Had he been too quick to agree with the chief that they should close the file? He thought for a moment, drumming his fingers on his desk. He was technically off duty now, and he had promised Mags he wouldn’t be late, but he could spare half an hour and still be home at a decent time. Before he could change his mind, he opened the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out Jacob’s case file.
    It was well over an hour later before he noticed the time.

10
     
    ‘Ah, I thought it was you!’ Bethan catches up with me on the path to Penfach, out of breath and her coat flapping behind her. ‘I’m popping to the Post Office. It’s a good thing I bumped into you – I’ve got a bit of news.’
    ‘What is it?’ I wait for Bethan to get her breath back.
    ‘We had the sales rep in yesterday from one of the greetings cards companies,’ she says. ‘I showed him your photographs and he thinks they’d make great postcards.’
    ‘Really?’
    Bethan laughs. ‘Yes, really. He’d like you to get some samples printed up and he’ll pick them up when he’s next round our way.’
    I can’t stop the grin forming on my face. ‘That’s amazing news, thank you.’
    ‘And I’ll definitely stock them in the shop for you. In fact, if you can knock up a website and get a few photos online, I’ll send out the details to our mailing list. There are bound to be people who want a beautiful picture of somewhere they’ve been on holiday.’
    ‘I will,’ I tell her. I don’t have the faintest idea how to set up a website.
    ‘You could write messages as well as names, couldn’t you? “Good luck”, “Congratulations” – that sort of thing.’
    ‘Yes, I could.’ I imagine a whole series of my cards slotted into a display rack, recognisable from the sloping ‘J’ I would use as a logo. No name, just an initial. They could have been taken by anyone. I have to do something to start bringing in some money. My outgoings are low – I eat next to nothing – but it won’t be long before my savings run out, and I don’t have any other source of income. Besides, I miss working. The voice in my head laughs at me, and I force myself to block it out. Why shouldn’t I set up another business? Why shouldn’t people buy my photographs, like they used to buy my sculptures?
    ‘I’ll do it,’ I say.
    ‘Well then, that’s sorted,’ Bethan says, pleased. ‘Now, where are you off to today?’
    We have arrived in Penfach without my realising. ‘I thought I might explore the coast a bit more,’ I say. ‘Take some photos of different beaches.’
    ‘You won’t find a prettier one than Penfach,’ Bethan says. She checks her watch. ‘But there’s a bus leaves in ten minutes for Port Ellis – that’s as good a place as any to start.’
    When the bus arrives I climb