Nina Harrington is an award-winning romance author known for her novels featuring strong female characters. She has sold over one million copies of her books. This document provides biographical information about Harrington and excerpts from the first chapter of her novel "Deadly Secrets", which follows the protagonist Anna Pefanis on a raid to shut down a counterfeit clothing operation in Thailand. The raid is a success, resulting in the seizure of evidence and arrests.

2. DEADLY SECRETS
NINA HARRINGTON
NINAHARRINGTONDIGITAL
http://www.ninaharrington.com.

3. PRAISE FOR THE NOVELS OF AWARD WINNING
ROMANCE AUTHOR NINAHARRINGTON
Sales of one million copies and counting…
Pinkheartsocietyreviews.blogspot.com on Always the Bridesmaid
“I look forward to reading this author‟s next release…and her next… and her next. It truly is
a stunning debut, with characters that will remain in your thoughts long after you have
closed the book.”
Romantic Times Book Reviewson Hired: Sassy Assistant
“Rich with emotion and pairing two truly special characters, this beautiful story is simply
unforgettable”
Romantic Times Book Reviewson Tipping the Waitress with Diamonds
“A well constructed plot and a scrumptious, larger than life hero combined with generous
amounts of humour and pathos make for an excellent read.”
CataRomance Reviews on The First Crush is the Deepest
“The First Crush is the Deepest is an absolutely irresistible page-turner sure to tug at your
heartstrings and tickle your funny bones! In her latest zesty-paced page-turner, Nina
Harrington skilfully juggles humour, pathos, emotional intensity and heart-warming drama
in a fabulous romantic read that will have you cheering on her smart and sassy heroine and
swooning over her intelligent and laidback hero.”

4. COPYRIGHT
Deadly Secret
Published by NinaHarringtonDigital
Copyright: 2014 by Nina Harrington
Cover Image by: TheKillionGroupInc.com
ISBN: 978-0-9571289-2-7
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not
be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard
work of the author.
To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author
at http://www.ninaharrington.com.
Recipe for Disaster Cover Art Copyright 2014 by Harlequin Enterprises Limited
Permission to reproduce Recipe for Disaster text granted by Harlequin Books
S.A.All rights reserved.
All the characters in this ebook are fiction and figments of the author’s
imagination and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same
name or names.
Please note that the spelling and grammar in this book are UK English.
Thank you for choosing Version 1.0 of this ebook.

5. CHAPTER ONE
June. Pattaya. Thailand
Anna Pefanis could feel the beads of sweat running down between her shoulder
blades but there was not one thing she could do about it.
The humidity of a Thai morning just before daybreak was compounded by the
crush of bodies of the Special Forces team who were packed tightly into the inflatable
bouncy castle laughingly called a military hovercraft.
A tropical storm was forecast to blow in during the day so this could be their last
chance – their only chance, to raid the pirates before the shipment left base.
Her head banged against the struts in rhythm with the choppy sea of a busy
shipping lane. The harness pushing her back into the seat had not been designed for
her custom made Kevlar armour and her shoulders were already aching with the
weight.
She hated dawn raids almost as much as she hated trusting the police to get the
job done. And who could blame her after what happened in Russia? But this time she
had no choice. The Thai police had made it clear that this was their mission and she
was going to be tolerated as a guest consultant, but that was all.
Two choices. Put up with the discomfort, or stay back in the office.
No contest. This was where she belonged.
Anna had spent most of her adult life in or around the roughest surf in the world,
enjoying a passion for open water that few people alive could truly appreciate. She
had even made a good living out of it for a few years.
One person against the ocean. That‟s how she liked it. A place where she was in
control and she knew exactly what she was doing.
It was hard to hand over that control to a pilot she had met only a few minutes
before boarding. To leave her fate to the skill of a stranger in a military uniform, his
face almost concealed under an armoured helmet with night vision goggles. His
name was on a need to know basis. And as far as the Thai police were concerned, she
didn‟t need to know.

6. A heavy wave from the chop of a tugboat caught her side of the hovercraft and
bounced it three feet into the air before it crashed back down. Her stomach followed.
So much for the smooth ride! She felt like a cork on open water.
According to the mission commander, the hovercraft was the only sure way to
reach the thin isthmus of land stretching out into the eastern edge of the Gulf of
Thailand. No more than a sand bank held together with local trees, with a narrow
strip of tarmac to the mainland, any early morning traffic would immediately alert
the targets.
They must be close now.
Her gaze scanned the faces of the men around her in the strange green haze that
infra-red night goggles created. Their voices had dropped to a low intense whisper.
Every sound a warning to the counterfeiters who were going to wake to a different
kind of alarm call.
Each member of the two eight men teams had been hand-picked and woken with
ten minutes‟ notice before the raid. Anna had seen enough corruption in South East
Asia to know how tempting it would be for poorly paid security forces to tip off the
targets. These officers would seize tens of thousands of dollars‟ worth of counterfeit
sports clothing during the next few hours.
It would only take one call from an inside man and this raid would be a very
expensive waste of time.
They could also be running and in her case walking lop sided, into a trap.
Of course Bernie had tried to persuade her over dinner the previous evening that
there was still time to send in a local specialist to take her place on the raid. Strange
that he still made the effort after all of these years they had been working together.
He knew that she was way past trusting anyone else to get the job done. After all, this
was what her clients were paying for – the personal attention of the head of the
company on site and looking after their interests.
Her responsibility.Her job.
Anna closed her eyes. Thinking about dinner was a bad idea.
Right on cue, Bernie‟s voice sounded so quietly in her headset that nobody else
could hear what was being said.
„Still there and in one piece?Excellent. So I said to her. Sharon. Darling. There is
absolutely no point wearing lilac lingerie under a Kevlar jacket. None. Trust me on
this. The boys are going to be too busy focusing on the job!‟

7. There was a slight chuckle and snort before her business partner continued with
the gossip. Anna never ceased to be amazed that Bernie Abner still sounded like the
fashion buyer she had first met all of those years ago, even down the earpiece of a
military helmet.
„Besides, under-wired bras do not work with ceramic plates, no matter what Tom
says. I mean, you will get chafing in places that a girl does not want to have chafing.
And after all that, guess what I saw in her suitcase at the security check yesterday? I
was standing right next to her! Well she will get zero sympathy from me. Anyway,
that‟s her personal problem. Having a nice trip? It all looks cosy from here.‟
Anna stifled a grin, as she leaned back against the reinforced polycarbonate
windows, and tried to ignore the vibration and pain, as each bounce stretched her
body harness against the armour under her jacket.
Sharon Chen was the intellectual property chief for the largest sportswear
manufacturer in Taiwan. And Sharon had definitely been wearing a bulletproof vest
when she boarded the second hovercraft almost an hour ago. Not that anyone could
blame her.
Anna had chosen to wear her own body armour rather than the heavy plated
jackets used by the Economic Crime Division of the Thai police force, which were
running this mission. They needed sniper protection, Anna didn‟t. Or at least that
was the official line. She had decided to bring her own custom made armour – just in
case.
„Roger that.‟ Anna whispered softly through clenched teeth. „We are in the zone.
Five minutes to target. How‟s the visual?‟
„Still optimal and recording. That beach seems to be coming up fast. Be safe.‟
„Thanks Bernie. See you soon. Out.‟
It had been Anna‟s idea to use two tiny micro night and day vision cameras clipped
to her helmet to record the sweep team operation from the ground. Her international
clients liked to know that their money was being well spent, and this was the proof.
The special ops commander had agreed on condition that they shared the live feed,
and it had taken Bernie only a few minutes to load the software onto their desktops.
The same video stream would be transmitted to Anna‟s company network in London
for archiving and for use in any prosecutions.
Sudden movement drew her attention to the hand signals from the team leader at
the helm. The whispers stopped.

8. This was it.
Through the Plexiglas screen she watched the beach race towards her at a
terrifying rate in the faint light of a cloudy dawn, her heart rate speeding up to match
the shuddering vibrations that rattled every one of her bones as the pilot throttled
the engine back.
Five seconds later the hovercraft drifted in a controlled slide out of the water and
onto the narrow strip of sand.
Instantly the heavily armed men lifted themselves out of their seats as one, whilst
the hovercraft skirt deflated. Only seconds before the craft gave a final whine and
sank down to the shore, the portside door slid open, and the team leapt down from
the side platform and landed with muffled crunches onto the loose sand. The other
hovercraft came to rest ten metres to the left so that the first elite squad were taking
point covering the exposed second team as they disembarked.
Anna crouched down behind a low wall with the officer she was shadowing,
shuffling forward only when she saw the hand signal from the team leader to her left.
The two teams fanned out and ran across the narrow tarmac road separating the
beach from a cluster of Thai houses, guns raised and ready for action.
The flimsy houses did not stand a chance against the heavy battering bolt and
Anna could already hear the sound of crashing doors, glass being smashed, and a
woman screaming in anger.
A moment later she was showered with glass fragments as a short, heavily built
figure jumped through the window and out into the garden.
He was getting away! No! They had to stop him or all of this would be for nothing!
Anna barely had time to roll swiftly onto her side before two slim, lithe and
obviously fitter Thai officers brought the heavy Caucasian man down with an
impressive joint rugby tackle.
She swallowed bile, as her twisted knee took the weight of her roll but she had to
see what was happening! Pain rocketed up the side of her leg but she fought it down,
the same as she always did.
Anna had a clear view of the target for a few seconds as the officers hauled him to
his feet, and recognised him instantly. He was the Ukrainian national whom the
police suspected of having connections to the Russian Mafia, and a key player in this
local network for counterfeit goods. She had already seen his Interpol warrants for

9. clothing, pharmaceutical and automotive rip-offs. In fact anything that could be
traded with high margins and at low risk.
Luckily for him the troops did not understand exactly what the thug was calling
their mothers, as they snatched his hands behind his back, or he would be sporting a
lot more bruises before he reached the police station.
The team leader came around the corner of the low house, and gave a nod to his
two officers, before reaching down and offering his hand to help Anna.
Pride made her hesitate for a moment before she clasped her fingers around his
wrist just long enough to stand.
„Ma‟am. You need to see this.‟
A minute later, Anna was inside the squalid wood and tile shack. Sharon Chen was
already standing, stunned and bemused, as the officer pulled the clothing to one side,
to reveal a hidden room in complete contrast to the rest of the squalid house.
This home office was fully equipped with high-tech devices, including a top of the
range computer, with a wireless network, satellite internet access and a mini-photo
studio with a professional quality lighting rig and two digital cameras.
Computer printout and invoices covered the low desk with loose sheets of paper
spilling onto the floor. Two walls of the room were covered with metal shelving,
packed ceiling high with at least 500 wrapped football jerseys from Premiership
clubs in Britain. She already knew that each jersey had been produced for about three
dollars and would be sold for at least sixty.
It was exactly what they had been looking for.
Her gaze scanned the shelves until she found what she was looking for and she
activated her voice control.
„Bernie – are you getting this? There are invoices here for shipments worth
hundreds of thousands over the last few months.‟
„Are you kidding? We‟ve opened the champagne, but the lawyers and accountants
have their heads in their hands. If this is anything like representative, they estimate
that 70% of the jerseys coming out of Thailand must be fake. That‟s serious money.
Remind me to thank you sometime for negotiating that percentage revenue bonus
into the contract. Can you pan around for a few seconds and hold the shot on a few of
the packets on each shelf? Then the invoices?Brilliant. The police can handle the rest.
We are finished here young lady. My car is ready and loaded outside. Give me a
minute to call your ride and I‟ll see you at the airport. Good work.‟

10. Anna gingerly retraced her steps back into the garden and slumped against a
palm, just in time to see the handcuffed Ukrainian and two Thai men being
manhandled onto the nearest hovercraft. The sweep had been too quick for any of
their thugs to come looking to rescue them, and this time there had been no need to
use the assault rifles.
Stress eased out of her shoulders as the adrenaline rush subsided, leaving her
feeling wrung out and read to drop. 36 hours without sleep. 4 hours on stand by and
the whole thing was over in ten minutes. Text book. She should be pleased but
instead she simply felt as though the air had been pulled out of her lungs and she was
ready to collapse.
Her heart was still thumping, her leg was on fire with pain but Sharon Chen was
already nodding and giving her the thumbs up as she chattered away on her cell
phone. The official observer from the Thai government walked over to watch as the
hovercraft headed back out into open water. His smart designer suit was as flawless
as his English accent.
„Congratulations Dr Pefanis. The team leader tells me it was a clean operation,
with only minor injuries to his officers. Your intelligence information proved
invaluable.‟
Anna turned briefly to shake the hand of the older man, taking time to steady her
voice before replying with a short bow. „I am grateful for your assistance, sir. I‟m sure
my clients will increase their investment program in the Pattaya area in recognition
of your swift and effective action against the counterfeiters.‟
„Of course. I am only sorry that you are not staying longer with us, ma‟am. Perhaps
I could persuade you to take a tour of the islands? The Bangkok business parks? I
would be happy to act as your personal guide.‟
„That‟s very kind, but I have an urgent appointment in Athens and my flight is
waiting for me at the airport.‟
Any further conversation was drowned out by the sound of fast approaching rotor
blades as a small civilian helicopter sped across the water towards them, hovering
only seconds later on a wider stretch of the tarmac road fifty metres from where
Anna was standing. Curious local bystanders and stray animals ran back into their
houses as the blades sent dirt and leaves whipping up in all directions.
„Ah. I think my ride to the airport has just arrived. Miss Chen will close out the
documentation. Thank you again for your help. Good morning sir.‟

11. Five minutes later she was strapped in and airborne, the houses and coastline
growing smaller and more distant as she left the shore behind.
The government official was naïve on two counts. What they had achieved today
was just a drop in the ocean in a business worth at least 300 billion dollars
worldwide to counterfeiters.
She had seen it on the faces of so many officials who thought that this trade in
fakes was trivial, and meant nothing to the international sports brand companies
who were being ripped off. After all, the trade did provide jobs for local people – for a
while, and the international companies still made their millions. But it was always
personal.
She knew what it was like to spend months of your life working on designs for
your own clothing company, only to see fakes of those same designs on sale only days
after you proudly revealed them at the trade fairs. Counterfeiting had almost ruined
her own water-sports company, NicKites, forcing her to return to London from
Hawaii. It had also very nearly cost her life.
Secondly. She did not spend her precious personal time with security officers.
Ever.
Besides. This was her last day at work for six whole days. She was now.
Officially.On holiday. The corners of her mouth turned up into a faint smile. The
timing had been right to the wire but she had done it. She had crammed in some
breathing space with the one person who she called family. Bring it on.

12. CHAPTER TWO
The Rigatos house
Argostoli
Kefalonia
Dear Miss Moragos
This is so difficult for me. I hardly know where to start.
Gerry was… Well, Gerry was unique.
I suppose I don’t need to tell you that since you knew him so well.
You were his family. He loved you all so much.
Back in Athens he used to talk about Kefalonia all of the time.
Andreas used to tease him about it.
Gerry had always planned to come back here once he had his law degree. Get a
job in a law office like his uncle. Start his own firm.
He had such great plans. Grand plans.
I suppose that’s why I’m writing this all down.
While I still remember him.
Do you know what the weird thing is? I still expect him to just walk through the
door with that big goofy smile on his face. ‘What did I tell you? Isn’t this the best?’
And he would be right. It is beautiful. I just wish he were here to show me around
his favourite places. The village where he grew up with his sister.His
school.Church.The white beach where he kissed his first girlfriend.
It’s breaking my heart just thinking about it.
Andreas won’t talk about him. Won’t talk to me about anything.
He wants rid of me now.
He sees me and it takes him back there.
I’m the link, you see. The link back to what happened on his boat that day.
When it all went so very wrong.

13. CHAPTER THREE
June; Ionian Island of Kefalonia, Greece
Police Captain Peter Artino leaned back in his chair and raked the fingers of his
left hand through his short curly dark hair, as he mumbled the occasional grunt into
the telephone.
Would there ever come a time when every woman on his late wife‟s side of the
family did not think it was their solemn duty to give him advice on everything from
child care to where he could find a reliable plumber?
On a daily basis?
He was beginning to wonder.
„Yes, I know it has been six months now. But I thought it would be best to get
Katina settled into her new school before we started work on the house. Moving to
the island has been a big change and she doesn‟t handle upheaval very well.‟
I am not that good at handling it myself.
A soft knock at the office door, followed by a gruff, „Cap‟.
Peter set upright in his chair and gave a short cough. „I need to go, Aunt Alice, they
need me for a meeting, but thank you for calling. Of course I will let you know when
we need to choose some curtains. Goodbye Aunt, take care. Yes. Bye.‟
Costas Sarris slid open the door and snorted as Peter stretched out in his chair
with an enormous sigh and laced his fingers tight behind his head.
„Your neck‟s red. One of the many lady friends who keep calling you up?‟
„I was just getting yet another reminder from my relatives in law that a child needs
a permanent home, and not some hotel to live in. And preferably before she goes
back to school in the autumn.‟
Costas winced and nodded his head twice. „They‟ve got a point. You‟ve got the shell
of a lovely house. Great location. All it needs is a little bit of work and the family will
be off your back. Here is an idea. You know my fourth cousin on my mother‟s side?
He is the best bricklayer on the island. And why not? He had plenty of time in prison
to learn the trade and for you – for you I can get a great price. What do you say?‟
„I thought your cousin was a painter and decorator.‟

14. Costas shrugged. „That my second cousin on my dad‟s side. You remember, the
one who had that little misunderstanding about his taxes. Why don‟t I give him a call
and tell him to come over this afternoon? It won‟t cost you a euro to get a quote and
the judge was very pleased with the paint job he did in his new bathroom.‟
„This afternoon? I don‟t think so. The architect is too worried about making the
place watertight first. Wiring.Plumbing. A few things like that need to happen before
I can even think about decorating Costas. I never believed all of those tales about
things taking forever on the islands until I came here.‟
„Relax Cap. Things are always slow during the winter. Besides, I thought your Aunt
Zoe loved having you there? I mean, you pay rent right? Better than some axe
murderer just wandering in off the street. And she cooks.‟
„Axe murderer. Remind me to tell her that. And, if you ask her nicely in between
stuffing her food down your neck most nights of the week, she might remind you that
she worked as a chef in Paris for almost 17 years.‟
Costas Sarris raised both hands palm out in surrender, before replying.
„Okay, okay. It‟s not my fault you have women falling over themselves to give you
advice. In fact, falling over to give you anything. I had no idea a seven year old was
such a babe magnet. Speaking of which, my lovely fiancé Alexis asked me to remind
you about her birthday party on Wednesday night. All four future bridesmaids will be
there, and yes, they‟re all single and gorgeous. Wear the uniform. The girls love the
uniform. You can thank me later.‟
„No, Costas, I don‟t think so. I‟ll turn up for an hour to toast your good fortune, but
that‟s it. There are enough women in my life trying to fix me up with dates, without
you two starting as well. How is it that all of Rachel‟s relatives have a friend with a
lovely daughter who‟s just dying to meet me?‟
„Luck, Cap. Just plain luck. You should try going out with a few. Get used to the
dating scene again.‟
The dating scene? The very idea made him feel sick. His lovely Rachel had only
been gone two years.
Peter cleared his throat and tapped his pen sharply on the desk a couple of times.
„Was there anything specific you wanted to talk to me about, Sergeant Sarris?‟
Costas sniffed and blinked a couple of times before smiling and passing his boss
the folder he had carried in with him.

15. „Sure Cap. The Piraeus office just e-mailed a reminder that the Rigatos family
entourage will be arriving on the island tomorrow. They‟re what pass for our local
royalty around here. Used to be a nice family,‟ he shrugged then pointed at the folder.
„Four of the personal bodyguards are authorised to carry handguns and assault rifles.
So please could we not shoot them as terrorists? Take a look at the photos on these
permits. What do you think?‟
Peter stared at the sheets of fax paper for a few seconds as Costas sat down on the
corner of his desk.
„They look like terrorists. Ugly terrorists.‟
„You know, that‟s just what I said. Makes you wonder though. If these are the good
guys, how ugly can the bad guys be?‟
Peter looked up. „Good point. Does this mean we have to go and check the
bodyguards out when they get off the boat? What‟s the usual routine?‟
Peter Artino had been working in the one police station on Kefalonia for a grand
total of 22 weeks. Costas Sarris had been coming to this station with his father,
Sergeant Sarris senior, most days before and after school since the age of four, and
had no problem about giving the new guy the inside story.
„We usually just ignore them. Sophia Rigatos died at the family house in Argostoli
a year ago this week, so the whole Rigatos clan will be here for the first anniversary of
the funeral. The TV crews and paparazzi will follow them out from the mainland.
Now they are the real problem. Human interest story for the colour magazines, you
know the sort of thing.‟
„Are we talking about pest control?‟
„We had some trouble a few years ago, but that‟s about it. The Rigatos boys will
make sure that nobody gets close to their private house or chapel, but they might
want back up on sightseers climbing the cemetery walls. The traffic team are already
lined up for the funeral service. Most of this town will be there next Saturday.‟
„Sophia Rigatos was born in this area wasn‟t she?‟
„In the same house she died in. Spent her first eighteen years right here in
Argostoli. This is a small town, on a small island, Cap. She was a pretty girl who went
to university in Athens, then married a student. It‟s not her fault he turned out to be
the heir to the Rigatos shipping empire. She was a sweet lady who chose to come
back to the island to retire among her old friends. A lot of local people will be there to
mourn her.‟

16. „Right. Take me through the details. I might only be in charge of this station for a
few weeks but I might as well do the job properly.‟
***
Anna caught herself mid-scream.
She sat up bolt upright against the padded leather aircraft seat, pushing hard
against the arm rests with both hands until her brain caught up with where she was
and what was happening around her.
She was in a plane. A large, wide bodied passenger aircraft. Not a car. There was
no snow or ice. No sounds of screams or wrenched torn bodies. She was safe and
warm and alive.
Heart thumping, she slipped off her cashmere wrap and pushed her feet out of her
low heel shoes so that she could feel the rough fibres of the nylon carpet under her
toes. Reassuring.Solid.Real.
Her right hand dropped down to try and massage the searing pain of the cramp in
her leg. She should stand and walk up and down the aisle to release the tension on
the muscles. Try and get some heat into the seized muscle. Do what her
physiotherapist told her for once.
But the second she tried to stand her right leg collapsed under her.
Anna reached for the cloth napkin from her dinner tray and pressed it against her
forehead and the back of her neck to try and blot the beads of sweat which had
already soaked the armpits of her silk blouse.
She glanced quickly from side to side, suddenly grateful for the low lighting of the
first class cabin on the night flight to Athens.
The other two passengers in the seat across the aisle were either pretending to be
asleep or had decided to politely ignore her. The seats in front of her were empty and
a quick glance over her shoulder confirmed that the stout Greek businessman who
had drunk over a bottle of wine with his meal was still snoring.
Anna exhaled slowly and tried to calm her breathing. She reached out for the glass
of water in the cup holder of the next seat but her hand was shaking too violently to
pick it up.
It had been the same old dream.
A memory played out so many times it had become like a scene from a favourite
movie. A video played over and over until the words and images are embedded in the
subconscious until the reality is lost, and the dream takes its place.

17. She closed her eyes for a second and she was back in the passenger seat of the
black limo driving through the Christmas card perfect snow covered Russian
landscape on the way to their new client‟s ski resort. Susan was in the back seat and
laughing loudly with the Russian snowboarding champion as they planned some
super show off snowboarding moves which were bound to impress the customers.
The photo shoots had already been set up and the car behind them in their convoy
was packed full of photographers and journalists who were being well paid by
NicKites to showcase the new snowboarding clothing range.
The car radio had been playing classic songs from the sixties. The snow had
started to fall in thick white flakes and the pine trees were glistening with frost on
either side of the road.
Susan leant forwards and starting chatting to Anna about her next marketing trip
to Hawaii. First class for one or business class for two if Anna could get away from
the business for six days in a row. Yeah. Why not? Snowboarding was Susan‟s
passion and her joy but she was happy to spend time with her best friend on a surf
board.
In the dream memory, Anna knows that something is about to happen, and even
though the next few minutes had played themselves over and over again in the last
three years, the version of Anna trapped inside her dream still cannot avoid the
inevitable. She is powerless to do anything to change it. She becomes a passive
observer as a dark shape emerges from the forest and the driver flings the steering
wheel from side to side to avoid hitting the massive stag.
And then the soundtrack changes.
Metal being crushed. Bags and equipment flying around from side to side, the
horizon spinning around, over and under the car before it smashes hard against
something which flings it back to rest on its left side. The passenger side where she
had been sitting.
She was leaning, half suspended from her seat belt, her lower body trapped below
the hips where the splintered tree trunk had pushed her under the dashboard.
Silence then cold.Biting cold. There was snow blowing into her eyes but she could see
Susan lying on the ground moaning, clutching at her arm. Someone calling her
name.Screaming.
Anna forced open her eyes. She knew what would happen next.
Come on, she knew the routine. Deep breaths right down to the abdomen.

18. Okay. Time to wake up and live. Isn‟t that what you‟re supposed to do?
Focus on the positive. Focus. Where was she? Focus. On the flight to Athens. Yes.
Good. That was good. She was on her way to see her godmother on Kefalonia.
Marianna Moragos. That was better. Marianna would make it all right. She always
made it all right.

19. CHAPTER FOUR
The Harbour at Argostoli, Kefalonia
Ten years. Ten long years.
Perhaps there was a greetings card you could buy to send someone whose best
friend was murdered ten years ago. Commiserating on their loss.
Not likely.
No. It was up to the family to keep his memory alive and keep on fighting,
fighting, fighting for justice. The journalist kept calling her but he was useless. So
full of empty promises. At least Marianna Moragos was trying to keep the pressure
on the courts. But it would not come to anything. The family were too powerful. Too
rich. It would take years.
And she was so tired of waiting.
She took another sip from her sweet iced coffee. The stifling afternoon heat
wafted in from the street as another sweating scarlet-faced tourist walked into the
air-conditioned bar. For a second the bloated body of the massive woman who
followed him blocked her view of the harbour and the luxury motor yacht that
occupied most of the mooring next to the coastguard building.
The Sophia II was stunningly beautiful. She had to acknowledge that. Twenty
metres of supreme marine engineering fitted out to meet the classical tastes of a
dead woman she had once cared about. Now just another child’s toy. It was shame
about the yacht. Still. He wouldn’t be needing it anymore.
He would probably receive the telephone call about two.
She knew how it would happen, what it would sound like. Those hesitant words
spoken in a shaking voice by the one of the swaggering fools who had just passed
her going back to the station, with their overstuffed bellies and smug smiles. Selfcomplacent.Ignorant. So sure they had everything under control.
Yes, she would like to be standing next to him when he hears those few simple
words. When his world turned over. When he felt that first taste of the bitter pain
that she knew would cut him every second of every minute of every long hour for
the rest of his short life. But that wouldn’t be the clever thing to do. Oh no. She

20. wouldn’t make that mistake. He might recognise her. She would have to leave that
torture to work all by itself.
But one thing she was sure of. This time he would get the message. She was going
to make sure of that.

21. CHAPTER FIVE
„Renee. How are things in London on this fine Sunday afternoon? A
downpour?Really?‟
Anna smiled at the low sigh from her hardworking PA as the palm trees swayed
gently above the brightly coloured flower beds in the hot June Kefalonia sunshine.
„Sorry to rub it in, but the weather looks gorgeous and I can‟t wait to get out of
baggage reclaim and find out what it feels like in person. Are you okay to run through
that list I sent before I sign off? Great.‟
Anna rolled her shoulders back to try and relieve some of the tension in her neck.
It was only a quick drive from the airport to Marianna‟s new villa where a hot shower
and a lovely meal would be waiting for her. Perhaps her body would be able to give in
to the exhaustion when she was settled at the villa.
If her luggage ever arrived.
Anna blinked to clear her head and scanned down her notes on her tablet
computer. „I need you to follow up on the two new clients I mailed you about from
Bangkok. Ask Stuart to run the profiles and get back to me only if there are any major
issues. Second. I reviewed the four CVs from the recruitment agency on the way out.
Bernie has my comments on the candidates, and will getting back to you tomorrow
with the shortlist. Can you slot the interviews in during the week in Dubai? Third.
You know there is no way I can get to the Moscow meeting on the second. The
Barcelona update takes priority. Igor is handling Russian projects.‟
Anna dodged a young couple as they struggled to drag the last huge suitcase from
the baggage carousel. „Okay, tell Igor Ivanovitch that if he cannot handle the
negotiations I‟ll find someone else, and he walks. I did not employ a top graduate so I
have someone to hold my hand. I do not do Russia. Get Igor on it, today. I‟ll be
working on my diary this week so watch out for updates. I‟ll leave you to it. See you
next week Renee. Seven days. Absolutely.You too.‟
Bloody Russia.Never again.
She was just about to fire off an email when her flight number came up on the
display above the baggage reclaim.

22. Finally! Anna dropped her shoulders and focused on deep breathing. It was time
to take her mind off the business. She was more than ready to be cosseted and spoilt
by her godmother in her lovely home on a beautiful island.
Anna smiled at the twin girls in their so typical British clothes who were standing
opposite her, impatient to get out into the sunshine. She remembered so clearly what
that used to feel like. The flight from London had seemed never ending. But the
second she stepped out of that aircraft and breathed the air straight from the sea only
metres away – it was magical.
Kefalonia was where she had discovered her passion for water sports. This was
where she had met and fallen in love with Nic Pavlou and started a life with him as
professional kite surfers which had taken her all over the world.
Oh yes, this island had a lot to answer for one way or another.
Even Bernie had given her strict instructions that the next photo he wanted to see
was a sun lounger next to a pool with her in one of NicKites new swimwear holding a
cocktail glass with a paper parasol propping up fruit slices. Fruit!
Bernie was right about most things. That was why she loved him.
She peered over a few people‟s heads to the one and only luggage carousel and the
handful of suitcases which were being added every five minutes by the two man
baggage handling team on the other side of the wall.
Poor Marianna. She must have been waiting for at least half an hour and her cell
phone was permanently engaged. The first smile of the day creased Anna‟s mouth.
Marianna knew everyone on the island one way or another. That woman would never
be short of company or sweet iced coffee, no matter where she went on Kefalonia.
Ah! At last! She stepped forwards and grabbed the handles of her two suitcases
and dragged them out into the waiting area with more energy than she had thought
possible. It is time to get this holiday started.
Her gaze scanned the waiting cluster of holiday representatives and taxi firms.
Marianna had told her by e-mail yesterday that she should be on the lookout for a
gorgeous woman in the black Givenchy business suit which was the twin to one she
was wearing.
Anna strolled more slowly across the tiled floor, looking from side to side.
No black Givenchy. No Marianna.
Inhaling slowly, she walked back across the black and white marble floor tiles, to
the blue metal seating area and lowered herself onto the hard mesh bench.

23. Probably just popped into the ladies room or chatting to someone.
Fifteen minutes later Anna dragged her cases over to the information desk for the
second time.
„And you‟re sure there are no messages for me? Please try again. It could be under
Miss Anna Pefanis or Doctor Anna Pefanis. Or Moragos, Marianna Moragos.‟
„I‟m sorry madam; I haven‟t received any messages in the last three hours. There‟s
nothing here at all.‟
„Thank you for looking.‟
No messages. No answer at her house, or Marianna‟s own cell phone. And when
Anna telephoned the pharmacy, a recorded message reminded her in Greek that the
Moragos pharmacy closed at 1pm on Sundays but would be open bright and early
Monday morning.
Anna stepped back and gazed out onto the sunlit road and car-park on the other
side of the plate glass of the arrivals hall as another brightly coloured tourist coach
pulled up.
Think positive. At least the airport had some air conditioning, and was probably as
good a place as anywhere else to wait. It had the buzz of people. Energy.Movement.
The sense of driven activity and directed purpose she had sought out for the last
twelve months. There were no quiet places here, where she would be forced to face
the turmoil of guilt that still roiled inside her about what happened to Susan.
She could wait here. Central location. Good comms. It was not so bad.
The automatic doors slid open and a strong waft of cigarette smoke from the
Greek taxi drivers waiting on the road, only a few metres away hit her face.
Car trouble. Marianna had forgotten to charge her mobile phone.
That had to be it.
The woman who had always been there for her, the woman who had never let her
down, that woman would be giving somebody serious grief about missing the pickup.
Her godmother. Marianna Moragos.
She swallowed down anxiety and checked her phone again for a signal.
After way too many years in the security business, Anna recognised that feeling in
the pit of her stomach she just did not want to think about. It was coming up to seven
in the evening and she should heard something by now.
Time to take the initiative.
Something was wrong here. Badly wrong.

24. ***
Thirty minutes later Anna Pefanis peered through the windscreen of her hire car,
and decided that she would give the satellite navigation system five more minutes
before closing it down. Or throwing it out of the window.
Then, by her own calculations, and the road map of the island that came with the
car, she would be officially lost.
Years ago she had known the main roads that wound through the village of Spartia
down to the beach but it was way too easy to get lost in these unfamiliar narrow
single track lanes.
The program might be new but these minor roads did not even show up on the
map Anna had pre-loaded into her tablet computer in the calm of the first class
lounge at Bangkok airport. It probably had excellent street maps of Athens. And was
as much use as a chocolate teapot, on remote lanes on the Ionian Islands which she
used to know well. Not any longer.
No problem. She could speak enough Greek to ask directions if she had to, and the
village couldn‟t be more than a mile or two in any direction. And in dire emergency,
she could always head back to Argostoli and pay some lucky taxi driver to help her
find the right lane from the centre of Spartia.
Because one way or another she had to get to Marianna‟s villa.
Anna sucked in a calming breath.
She had to stay calm. This was supposed to be her chance to have some fun with
Marianna. She had been promising since Christmas that she would make the time to
visit for the first time since her car accident.
And now she had done it. She was actually in Kefalonia. Where her father had
been born. Where her godmother Marianna had been born, raised and spent most of
her life.
Anna grinned and lowered the window to breathe in the perfumed air, rich with
the scent of pine and flowers. Eucalyptus.Wood smoke. It was hard to believe she was
only a few miles from the busy town of Argostoli, with its international airport and
see-them-everywhere air conditioned shops and cafes.
The Honda wound its way around the tiny narrow streets and corkscrew bends of
the old stone built village houses. Marianna had told her how most of these houses
had been rebuilt, after the terrible earthquake of 1953 that had destroyed much of the
island.

25. It looked like a picture postcard tourist attraction or movie set. The tiny white
church with its bell tower, bright red and pink oleander in the front gardens, the
eucalyptus, olives and grapevines. Bluest of cobalt blue skies fading to duck egg. It
was just stunning.
In the dusk of the setting sun Anna caught glimpses of a band of blue sea on the
horizon, between three villas on the left, just past the old olive press.
That had to be it! Marianna‟s new villa was the last house.
As she pulled to a halt outside a wide ironwork gate set in a low white stone wall in
front of poplars and pine trees, she looked across and gave a wide mouthed grin.
This was the address. Anna had waited a long time to come to this village, to this
house. It was hard to believe she was really there.
She stepped out of the car, her twisted knee in front of her and let it take the
weight.
She could have hired an automatic car, but where was the challenge in that?
Anna took a breath, and lifted her shoulders to her ears, squeezing tight, before
letting them fall back, taking the tension with them.
For the first time in a long while, she actually felt a moment of happiness.
Marianna and Bernie had both been right. She did need this holiday. This was her
first real break in twelve hard months since the trauma of what happened in Russia.
Anna swung open the wrought iron gate and took a few steps up the curving stone
steps up to the house. She paused to take in the lovely one story stone villa, stretched
out in front of her. A wide cream coloured stone patio circled the entire front section
of the entrance with its covered porch, and she could just see a separate driveway and
garage area on the right. What looked like a covered glass conservatory and terrace
extended out to the left, bathed in the low sunlight. That must lead to the pool area.
It was much bigger and far more luxurious than she had expected. No wonder
Marianna had told her it would be a surprise.
The twittering of bird song and cicadas drifted down from the pine trees and she
inhaled a light perfume from the lavender and red roses that grew in abundance in
the very English looking flower beds as she strolled up the wide steps towards the
quiet house.
Anna could not help but smile, suddenly excited, as she turned the corner to the
concealed main entrance porch, and the heavy front door of golden coloured wood.

26. Only the door was already open, blocked by the woman‟s body sprawled across the
pale marble. A woman wearing a black suit identical to her own.
It was Marianna, and she was lying face down in a pool of dark thick blood.