Sam Carrington - Saving Sophie - A compulsively twisty psychological thriller that will keep you gripped to the very last page

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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2016

Copyright © Sam Carrington 2016

Sam Carrington asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008191818

Ebook Edition © August 2016 ISBN: 9780008191863

Version: 2018-03-01

In memory of my dad, Norman, and my mum, Mary.

Missed every day.

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One: Karen

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five: Sophie

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven: Karen

Chapter Eight: Sophie

Chapter Nine: Karen

Chapter Ten: Sophie

Chapter Eleven: DI Wade

Chapter Twelve: Sophie

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen: DI Wade

Chapter Fifteen: Karen

Chapter Sixteen: DI Wade

Chapter Seventeen: Karen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen: Karen

Chapter Twenty: Sophie

Chapter Twenty-One: DI Wade

Chapter Twenty-Two: Karen

Chapter Twenty-Three: Sophie

Chapter Twenty-Four: DI Wade

Chapter Twenty-Five: Karen

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Sophie

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Karen

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two: Sophie

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four: DI Wade

Chapter Thirty-Five: Karen

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Sophie

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Karen

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty: Sophie

Chapter Forty-One: DI Wade

Chapter Forty-Two: Sophie

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four: Karen

Chapter Forty-Five: Sophie

Chapter Forty-Six: Karen

Chapter Forty-Seven: Sophie

Chapter Forty-Eight: DI Wade

Chapter Forty-Nine: Karen

Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty-One

Chapter Fifty-Two: Sophie

Chapter Fifty-Three: Karen

Chapter Fifty-Four: Sophie

Chapter Fifty-Five: DI Wade

Chapter Fifty-Six: Karen

Chapter Fifty-Seven: Sophie

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Chapter Fifty-Nine: Karen

Chapter Sixty: DI Wade

Chapter Sixty-One: Karen

Chapter Sixty-Two

Chapter Sixty-Three

Chapter Sixty-Four: Sophie

Chapter Sixty-Five: Karen

Chapter Sixty-Six

Chapter Sixty-Seven: DI Wade

Chapter Sixty-Eight: Karen

Chapter Sixty-Nine: DI Wade

Chapter Seventy: Sophie

Chapter Seventy-One

Chapter Seventy-Two: Karen

Chapter Seventy-Three

Chapter Seventy-Four: Sophie

Chapter Seventy-Five: DI Wade

Chapter Seventy-Six: Karen

Chapter Seventy-Seven

Chapter Seventy-Eight: DI Wade

Chapter Seventy-Nine: Sophie

Chapter Eighty

Chapter Eighty-One: Karen

Chapter Eighty-Two: Sophie

Chapter Eighty-Three: DI Wade

Chapter Eighty-Four: Karen

Chapter Eighty-Five

Chapter Eighty-Six: Sophie

Chapter Eighty-Seven: Karen

Chapter Eighty-Eight: Sophie

Chapter Eighty-Nine: Karen

Chapter Ninety: DI Wade

Chapter Ninety-One: Karen

Chapter Ninety-Two

Chapter Ninety-Three: DI Wade

Chapter Ninety-Four: Karen

Chapter Ninety-Five: Sophie

Chapter Ninety-Six: DI Wade

Chapter Ninety-Seven: Karen

Chapter Ninety-Eight: DI Wade

Epilogue

Read On

Acknowledgements

Keep Reading …

Author Q&A

About the Author

About the Publisher

‘Shh … Don’t speak.’ He releases the strap of the rubber ball gag with his left hand. His right grips a chunk of long, curly hair. Pulling it, twisting it, so she can’t move her head. So tight, she can’t move away from him. So tight, strands of black hair extensions break and tear from her real hair, tiny popping noises oddly loud in her ear.

The gag makes a soft thud on the concrete floor, an innocent sound, incongruent with the function it has just served.

‘Stay quiet now. Still. It’ll be over soon.’

He pushes his head up against her temple, hard. The slick tackiness of his sweat covers her forehead as he presses against her, rubbing his head from side to side. The putrid odour invades her nostrils. She tries not to breathe. Fear takes over; a whimper escapes from her dry mouth.

‘No. No noise. I told you .’ His voice is raspy, menacing.

Her eyes are wide and swollen, wet with fresh tears – her face stained with old ones. She opens her mouth, just a little, daring to utter the words screaming inside her head: Please don’t kill me. He notices the slight movement of her lips and immediately presses his fingers against them, suppressing the words before they can be formed. Only her breath manages to leak through the gaps of his soft fingers; a stifled exhalation.

Her last.

The dog’s barking alerted her to the late-night visitors before the doorbell sounded.

Muffled voices drifted in as Mike opened the front door. Then another voice boomed out. Karen jumped up from the sofa, grabbed the dog and ran out into the hallway. She wasn’t expecting the sight that greeted her.

Wedged between two police officers was a bedraggled mess of a girl.

Sophie.

‘What’s happened?’ She rushed forward, dropping Bailey to the floor. The barking turned to growling; she ignored it, her attention fully on her daughter. Tears had left tracks down her over-made-up face, her lipstick had bled and feathered, spreading red beyond her mouth.

‘She’s not in any trouble, we had a duty of care to bring her home.’ Talking continued, but now in full panic mode, Karen switched off. What on earth has happened to her?

Sophie suddenly looked younger than her seventeen years; her little girl, barely able to stand, leaning against the porch wall as she attempted to move her mouth and produce coherent words. She failed.

Karen heard snippets of what the officers were saying as she fussed over Sophie – ‘… found wandering on her own along the main road in town …’ She dabbed at Sophie’s damp face with the cuff of her sleeve, ‘… all dressed in black … not safe …’ She took Sophie by the arms and looked into her black, wide-pupilled eyes. How much has she drunk?