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Someone is looking for Tasha. But does she want to be found?


Eight months ago Tasha Joseph ran away, and her stepmother, Emma, has been searching for her ever since. She is desperate to give Tasha the home and security she deserves.


The problem is, Emma isn’t the only one looking for Tasha. The police are keen to find her too. She could be a vital witness in a criminal trial, and DCI Tom Douglas has a team constantly on the lookout for her. But Tasha remains hidden, and nobody appears to have seen her.


Suddenly, the stakes are raised. Somebody is offering money – a lot of money – for information about Tasha’s whereabouts.


Tom and Emma know they have never been closer to finding the young girl. But they also recognise that she has never been closer to danger. Can they find her first?


She can run – but for how long can she hide?

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Bright sunshine flooded through the tall windows, touching each surface with its dazzling light. Every corner of the room was bathed in a soft yellow glow, and its elegant proportions were displayed to their best advantage. It was a disaster. The one thing she hadn’t allowed for was a sunny day.


Maximum impact—that’s what she was striving for. The clothes, the hair, the jewellery; her attention to detail had been impeccable, and any false note would influence his perception of her credibility. But instead of completing the illusion by creating subtle lighting and atmospheric shadows, the room was more akin to a floodlit stage. It was the end of October in London. It was supposed to be raining...

Excerpt from Nowhere Child

There’s something funny about the atmosphere down here tonight. Everybody seems jumpy – or is it just me? Tension seems to be bouncing off the walls. I’m looking at the floor as I walk, making sure I don’t tread in anything nasty, but out of the corner of my eye I notice that nobody is looking at me because they’re all looking away, down the tunnel towards our pitch.


I lift my eyes from the floor and stop dead. Quietly I move to the side of the tunnel, deep into the shadows.

Andy is up ahead, and the man from the other night is with him. I know it’s him – it’s the way he stands; the slight bow in his legs with his feet spread apart. He’s got a knife – against Andy’s throat. 

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