Dying Bad (2012)
“Pants on fire then?’ Harries was driving like an octogenarian, on slow juice. Sarah had asked him to take the wheel of her Audi. The offer didn’t come along that often, he’d grabbed it with both hands. Boy racer wasn’t living up to his billing. Visualising the work piling up back at the nick, she almost wished he’d step on the gas. ‘You on the same page as me, boss?’ Mouth twisted, she averted her glance from the speedo, reached in a coat pocket for a tissue. ‘More like Lily’s pages plural but ...I get the drift. And, yes, it sure looks that way.’ Lily’s cross-checking of the dates had resulted in four big yeses confirming she and Brody had been getting it together. But whatever Leroy Brody had been up to late on January 11 and 13 it hadn’t been with Lily Maitland. Adrian Mole had nothing on Lily. Lily Maitland aged eighteen and three-quarters seemed compelled to record every detail of her not so hectic highlife. She’d let Sarah read some of the entries and according to the gushing pronunciations, she’d spent both nights at home drinking plonk, scarfing pizza and watching chick-flick DVDs.MoreLess
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