The Family Man: An edge-of-your-seat read that you won’t be able to put down. T.J. Lebbon
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‘Oh, hang on, Mum hasn’t …’ She trailed off and Dom was left with a quiet phone, more rustling in the background, distant voices.
‘Emma? Daisy?’ His voice was raised, almost shouting, and the car’s interior suddenly felt claustrophobic. When he drew in the humid air was it was devoid of oxygen. Throwing the door open, he almost fell out onto the road. The tarmac was hot and sticky. The air was so still that even the birds seemed too lethargic to sing. The landscape held its breath, and through the phone jammed against his ear he heard only the background sounds.
‘Emma!’ he shouted again, and then she was there.
‘Some guy in a Jeep. I think he’s been following me.’
Dom closed his eyes. The Loony Tunes had been in a van and a BMW, not a Jeep. The crashed BMW had been found, but not the van. And they were proper criminals, armed and dangerous, so of course they wouldn’t use their own vehicles to do the robbery.
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