Kissing the Demons by Kate Ellis

to speak to Jason again as he was apparently the last of the group to see her – Joe almost mentally added the word ‘alive’ but it was far too early to fear the worst.
    He caught Emily’s eye. It was time to ask their next question – the original reason for their visit. Emily gave him a small nod. She was leaving it to him.
    â€˜I know this is a long shot,’ he began. ‘But have you heard of a young woman called Jasmine who lived at this address about twelve years ago?’
    As expected, Jason gave a dismissive grunt. ‘You’re joking, aren’t you. We would have been about eight.’
    â€˜I realize that but I imagine you can put me in touch with your landlord.’
    â€˜He won’t be able to help you,’ said Caro. ‘He only bought this place three years ago. And twelve years ago he would have been at uni.’
    â€˜Where?’
    Matt looked up. ‘Here in Eborby. He stayed and went into property development.’
    â€˜Then we’ll need his contact details,’ Emily said.
    Caro wrote something on a sheet of paper and handed it to Emily who stood up.
    â€˜If Pet turns up, inform us right away.’ she said, making for the door.
    Joe followed her, looking around, thankful for once that his own student days were over.
    The visit to Petulia Ferribie’s student house had taken Joe’s mind temporarily off the strange letter from ‘K’ he’d received in the post the previous day but now, as he followed Emily up the crazy-paved garden path of the house next door to number thirteen, it pushed its way to the forefront of his thoughts. There was only one certain way to discover the identity of ‘K’ and that was to keep the appointment. He was tempted to share his problem with Emily but he decided against it. This was something he’d have to deal with himself.
    He stood a little behind Emily as she rapped firmly on the door of number fifteen Torland Place. In contrast to its neighbour, here the paintwork was fresh and the windows, with their Roman blinds, sparkled clean in the weak spring sunlight.
    The door swung opened to reveal a woman in her late twenties. She had a wide mouth, shoulder length blonde hair and her jeans and loose floral top showed off her slim figure to best advantage.
    But her attractive face was marred by the angry scowl she aimed in Emily’s direction. ‘We’re not interested,’ she said, preparing to shut the door in the DCI’s face.
    But Emily held up her warrant card and introduced herself and the scowl turned into a worried frown.
    â€˜What is it? What’s happened? Is it Rory?’ The words came out in a rush.
    He saw Emily’s expression soften. Finding two police officers on the doorstep was enough to make any law-abiding person fear the worst, especially if a loved one is away from home.
    â€˜It’s nothing to worry about Mrs . . .’
    â€˜Quillan. Jackie Quillan.’
    â€˜We’d just like to ask you some questions about the house next door. How long have you lived here?’
    â€˜Two years.’
    Joe saw the look of disappointment on Emily’s face.
    â€˜Do you know where we can find the previous owner?’
    Jackie Quillan nodded. It looked as if they were in luck. ‘We bought the house from my husband’s uncle. He couldn’t manage any more so he went into sheltered accommodation. We were coming back up to Eborby to live so it seemed like the ideal arrangement.’
    â€˜Where can we find him?’ Joe asked, notebook at the ready.
    Jackie recited an address in the suburb of Pickby, not far from Emily’s own home. ‘What’s all this about? Why do you want to see him?’
    â€˜It concerns something that happened twelve years ago. We’re trying to trace a young woman who lived in the house next door. Number thirteen.’
    â€˜There are new students in there every year so you’re going to