Page 108 of The House Swap

The front door was closed and Martin was inside with whoever had screamed. That much she knew. And although she couldn’t prove it, her gut told her that he hadn’t stopped here to do a regular maintenance check.

She looked down at the box of cameras in her hands. Was he spying on the people who owned this place too?

Repulsion coiled hot in her gut, anger rising fast, as a fresh surge of adrenaline cut clean through the fear and sharpened her focus.

He wasn’t going to get away with this.

Realising that she needed to get inside the villa, Poppy edged towards the side of the building, moving slowly and staying low, her steps careful, aware that every crunch of gravel sounded too loud.

She reached the side wall safely, her heart hammering so hard she was certain it would give her away.

Martin was inside, but she had no idea where. She couldn’t just barge through the front door. First, she needed to find out exactly where he was.

The box of cameras was cumbersome and she set it down on the ground, nudging it with her foot so it was hidden beneath a bush.

She would come back for it afterwards.

If you get out of the villa.

Ignoring the nasty thought, she edged along the side wall, discreetly peering in a window as she passed, where the shutter was up. It looked in on an open-plan living area and she could see sofas and a large glass dining table, but there was no sign of Martin.

She continued round to the rear of the property, stepping onto a wide terrace. It was empty of patio furniture and there was a large swimming pool that was completely covered by a sheet of blue tarpaulin.

There were no ground-floor windows on this section, just wide patio doors, and Poppy hesitantly peered around the edge of the glass.

It was the same living space she had seen before.

She was about to cross to the other side of the doors when a flash of movement drew her attention. Martin.

Quickly, she stepped back, her heart hammering.

He hadn’t seen her. She was certain he hadn’t. Still, she waited, tension rippling through her, trying to pluck up courage to check if he was still there. Every instinct screamed at her that this was a bad idea, reminding her that she was dealing with a situation she didn’t quite understand.

When she heard the click of a lock, realising he was opening the patio doors, her eyes widened in horror.

This time she wasn’t slow or careful, her feet almost tripping over one another as she scrambled back round to the side of the house. As she heard him step outside, clearing his throat, she pressed herself up against the wall, wishing she could disappear.

He wasn’t looking for her, though. Instead, his focus was an outhouse building beyond the pool. She watched him pull out a ring of keys and unlock the door, before disappearing inside. Moments later, she heard the sound of something dragging along the floor. When he reappeared, she saw he was wheeling a small suitcase.

Poppy’s heart lurched into her throat, her eyes widening in horror.

It was Keira’s cabin bag. The magnolia bloom design unmistakable.

What the hell was Martin doing with it?

She thought about the scream that had come from inside the villa.

Keira had gone home. She’d been messaging Poppy.

Her brain tried to connect dots, nothing seeming to make sense, even as one terrifying conclusion made itself clear.

Had Martin taken her?

Was her friend trapped somewhere inside this house?

Leaving the cabin bag outside on the patio, Martin disappeared back inside the outbuilding.

Poppy stared at the dark doorway for barely a second, her feet acting before she had even clearly thought things through, as she crossed the terrace again, slipping through the patio doors into the villa.