. . . calmly shot Clive in the head. The Dwarf lay dead. His blood soaking into the snow, making it raspberry ripple slush. The man tapped the body with his toe and turned and walked away. It had to be done. Clive had no idea how many people the truth would hurt.
It was Violet who found Clive. And by the side of his frozen body was a key. A key she recognised from the past. A key to a security box that she and Randy had buried almost 16 years ago in the copse behind The Neptune Bar and Tea Rooms.
But surely . . .