CHAPTER ELEVEN
Remi tried to ignore Daniel’s eating habits while studying the diary. Her partner had checked them into a hotel in an old building well past its prime, with dirty carpet and suspicious-smelling bathrooms. The appeal, at least for Daniel, was that it was situated above a pub, where hotel residents got a discount. Daniel was tucking into fish and chips and a pint of ale. Remi had ducked out to the nearest supermarket and grabbed some fruit and crackers. She’d eat in her room.
“This diary shows why Melissa has such a bad attitude,” Remi said, having to raise her voice over the loud conversation of the crowd of English drinkers.
“What have you found?” Daniel asked around a mouthful of cod that had probably been frozen for the past decade and put through a microwave in the pub
