She wades through the crowd following the perimeter around a massive bonfire, her bare feet caked with sand. She wavers with every step she takes, leading those present to look at her as if she's just drunk like everyone else. Everything is a blur to her eyes, a white tunnel of vision, faces barely coming into focus as she passes. Soon she is out of the light, far away from prying eyes. Just walk, she tells herself.

For all she can do, she reaches a makeshift campsite beneath an overhang in the cliffs. Clamoring to a little bench made from driftwood, feeling around in the darkness with her hands, she finds it's suitable and rests there. A moment, she tells herself between gasps for air, I'll only stay a moment. She slowly catches her breath, lungs on fire from running through bonfire smoke. The tunnel vision begins to darken, and she feels herself slip in and out of consciousness.

The first time she comes out of it, a sensation of sand filling the back of her dress dominates her senses.

The second time, she's cold, as if the wind is picking up. There's pressure on top of her, but she can't focus long enough to really see what's happening or open her eyes.

The final time, all she can see is a satisfied smile just before she hears a whispered, "Goodbye."


"There's no way in hell I'm letting you take this case, Alec." She knew using his first name would irritate him, and it worked. Alec's face slowly chameleons into the shade of beet innards. There's no point to argue anything when Ellie was in one of these moods, it'd be better to walk away.

Or not.

Miller!"

"Wanker!"

Alec rolled his eyes and dropped swiftly into the black armchair in the client waiting room, leaned back and, taking a long drink from the quickly cooling cup of black tea nestled between his fingertips, contemplated all the ways he could convince his business partner and best friend, Ellie Miller, to let him focus on this case alone for a little longer. Gears turn within his mind. I could always give her chocolate. Or chips? Make her take a few days off and send her on holiday?

Thoughts of Ellie in a bathing suit last summer when they took all the kids swimming drifted into his thoughts. Stop it! Can't let himself get distracted right now, he was on a mission.

Like opening the pages of Sherlock Holmes, Hardy reviewed the case file he committed to memory so long ago.


13 months ago, a young woman, aged seventeen, had been found by an off-duty detective and his daughter in a small cave near a popular makeshift campsite on the beach in Broadchurch, Dorset, the morning after a bonfire celebrating the end of school for many of the town's teenage inhabitants. Unconscious, bleeding from the face and head, her clothes in a shredded ball next to her, it was a surprise she was still alive as it was obvious she had been left for dead.

The detective removed his daughter safely away from the crime scene and called in. On-duty officers arrived, took statements, secured the scene.

Standard protocol.

Three months in, the victim was healed physically but still in a coma the doctors couldn't explain. No DNA could be found on her, or at the crime scene, traces of rohypnol were found in her system and witnesses only saw the girl stumbling through the crowd as if she were drunk. She'd been bound by the wrists and blindfolded

Nobody thought twice about it.

The detective who was responsible for saving her life dove into solving this crime, but the physical toll the stress took on his body combined with the strain between himself and his daughter, friends, and colleagues forced him to take an offer of early retirement.

That detective was Alec Hardy.


"You've got to be kiddin' me! I know I'll crack this one! I just need more time." Alec's monstrous growl, ringing through the small office space like a church bell, provided Ellie a smirk and a flashback to the time when she'd run from that raging bull of a man. When no snide retort was given, he mumbled, annoyed with the stupid but sort of adorable, look on Ellie's face, "An' less of you bustin' my balls."

"Oi! I heard that."

Of course Ellie took that moment to walk in from the break room, setting a mug and freshly warmed kettle upon the small table in front of him. Alec tensed, knowing he was going to get nothing out of her but a good bollocking.

"You've had a year to work on this one," Ellie's mum-voice became a line in the sand, "And we need to move on to other cases."

His grumbling drew a pointed glare.

"Look," Ellie reasoned, "I agreed to help you start this firm under one condition. You agreed to it. Now there's a pile of cases as high as my waist and I know you need the money." She artfully poured hot water into the two green mugs while digging through the endless stacks around the desks, unceremoniously dropping three directly in front of Alec without spilling a drop of water. "There, have a look at those."

The first file contained a missing person's report, Josie Mitchell, 25, suspected runaway from Winchester. After a few minutes with his nose buried in the file, Alec handed it over to Ellie, waving it in her face. "

Her boyfriend. Most likely kidnapping, but I'd like to talk to him first."

Ellie snatched the blue folder out of his hand and scowled as she glanced over the page Hardy had held it open to. "God, you're right."

Hardy's mouth slightly curved at the admission. Ellie dialed CID, relaying the pertinent information. Alec took the next few minutes to scan through the second file, sipping from his mug. He nearly leaped from his seat, dropping the mug and dumping it's contents across the wooden floor. He laid the file in front of Ellie and handed her a page. "This is too easy. The son is stealing his mother's government checks. For God's sake, Ellie, look at the number on that account. Are you daft?"

Ellie rolled her eyes. "Okay, genius, what's that one?"

Alec scanned the file quickly. He glanced at her over the top of the folder, refusing to hold back any drop of smugness as he answered, "It's the lease, Miller."

"Oh," Ellie snatched the file and bopped him on the head with it, "Nevermind."

She stood to replace the file to it's correct location inside the cabinet, and stretched, gazing at the clock on the wall. "Blimey, it's nearly lunch. I need to pick up Fred. Hungry? I'm buying."

Alec's laptop alarmed, announcing a new email. He stood to sit at his desk, turning the telly in the small waiting area to the local news station as he went. "Not chips."

Ellie grabbed her keys, "Obviously."

As Ellie stepped out of the office, Alec sat and opened the new email waiting on the screen. No subject, anonymous user, it's probably junk, Alec thought to himself. But when it finally loaded, what Alec saw made his blood run ice cold.