This really did sneak up on me. Surrounded by bank holidays and writing books for a possible Christmas release, release day came and went. (Those books did include the direct sequel to this. And I’m plotting a new Zander/Isabel book.)
Receptionist Kate Dahlbeck accepts the final slot on reality TV show Jack’s House, and takes a leave of absence from her job, to live in front of cameras, wired up to a microphone twenty-four hours a day. Despite the silly activities they have to do, it’s all fun and games…that is until a contestant dies.
Tired of desk duty while he recovers from injuries sustained in the line of duty, DS Zander Ellery is chomping at the bit to investigate the suspicious death—from the inside. His partner DC Isabel York agrees to watch his back…from the safety of the director’s gallery in the studio. Zander packs the one bag he’s allowed, and enters the house. It doesn’t take him long to work out the sinister link between housemates.
Time is short. Can Zander catch the killer before they strike again?
Tagline: Who killed the rat that lives in the House that Jack built?
DCI Britton lifted one eyebrow. “And you picked that up from one episode. Are you sure you don’t watch it?”
“I’m a cop. I’m paid to notice things. And I only saw ten minutes of it, before the channel was changed. That was plenty.”
The door opened and DS Philips strode in. “This better be important, sir. I have to charge or release someone by ten and I’m in the middle of re-interviewing him.”
“This won’t take long, Dane. Take a seat.”
DS Philips dropped into the chair next to Zander. “What’s going on?”
“Everyone’s favourite TV show apparently,” Zander rolled his eyes. “Jack’s House. It’s waaayyy more important than any proper work we have this morning.”
“I know it well. The wife’s addicted to it.”
“Then maybe she’d like to come in and discuss it with the DCI. I have a mountain of paperwork to do.” Zander stood. “So, if you don’t mind…”
“Actually, sergeant, I do.” DCI Britton tapped his fingers on the desk. “Sit down. What did you make of Silas, Zander?”
Zander slumped into the chair again and sucked in a deep breath, still miffed he was sitting here discussing a programme he’d seen briefly, once. “Bit of a bully to be honest. Rough, rude, not the sort of person you’d want to meet in a dark alley at night. Why?”
Zander straightened. Now he was interested. “Dead how exactly?”