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Just Keep Breathing

A DI Benjamin Kidd Thriller

GS Rhodes

Dark Ship Crime

Copyright © 2021 GS Rhodes

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Published Worldwide by Dark Ship Crime

Cover design by Meg Jolly

Also by GS Rhodes

The DI Benjamin Kidd Thrillers

When You're Smiling

Just Keep Breathing

Your Best Shot (Coming Soon)

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

CHAPTER FORTY

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

DI BENJAMIN KIDD WILL RETURN IN

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

CHAPTER ONE

Sarah Harper’s voice was hoarse from all the yelling, all the screaming. That’s all her life seemed to have been for the past couple of days, a series of arguments with people that she thought were supposed to be on her side. All because of some stupid bloody pictures.

Well. A lot of stupid bloody pictures, come to think of it.

They’d all bought it though. They’d seen them fighting, seen them yelling at one another and crowded around like she’d expected them to. Some were filming it on their phones, others were taking pictures, they were all talking about her.

It was the only way to deal with it.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She took it out and couldn’t help but smile at the message, before pocketing her phone and carrying on her walk.

She was avoiding going home. She knew that once she got there, her mum would be all over her wanting to know if she was okay, maybe even wanting to get some shots in for her own Instagram account. There were days when Sarah wondered if her life was a fashion accessory to her mother’s “brand.”

She shuddered.

The fact that her mother had a brand.

She walked through Kingston town with her hands in her pockets, her jacket, the one Dexter let her borrow at the start of their relationship, wrapped tightly around her, her legs exposed to the elements in her school uniform, not knowing where exactly to turn. If only all those people who’d enjoyed watching her downfall at school could see her now, it would certainly give them something to laugh about. To laugh at.

Sarah Harper with the perfect life.

Sarah Harper with the perfect boyfriend.

Sarah Harper with the perfect grades.

Perfect everything.

They had no idea. Not really.

She caught her reflection in the front of the Bentall Centre, her blonde hair being blown about by the wind, her cheeks a little flushed from the cold. To an outside eye, her perfect life was in tatters around her and she had no one else to turn to. And that was true to an extent. There were maybe two people she could call at a time like this. But she knew she shouldn’t.

Sarah took out her phone and took shelter beneath the awning outside the front of the shopping centre. The stark white lights from inside leaked out and made her squint a little.

She rounded her shoulders, not wanting to be seen. It was so unlike her. She started scrolling through her friends, former friends, not finding a single name she could click on, a single person she could message. They’d all turned on her, every last one and—

“Sarah?”

The voice pulled her focus to a face that she recognised, maybe from a past life. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard that voice.

“Hi,” she said.

“What are you doing out here? You must be freezing.”

She swallowed. “I am,” she said. “Just got nowhere left to go, do I?’

A raise of an eyebrow. The shake of a head. “We both know that’s not true.”

And they walked. They walked blissfully unaware, into the beginning of a nightmare.

CHAPTER TWO

For the past hour or so, DI Benjamin Kidd had not been a detective for the London Metropolitan Police, he hadn’t been in charge of a team of four people tasked with bringing criminals to justice. The only things he’d been in charge of for the past hour were his niece and nephew. He was the storyteller, the climbing frame, the punching bag, you name it, he was it and he didn’t mind at all.

“Alright, alright, it’s bedtime!”

This elicited a groan from Tilly, the eldest, and just a series of babbles from Tim who didn’t really know what was going on. But for Tilly, it was the voice of doom. Ben’s sister, Liz, trudged into the living room, a tea towel slung over her shoulder. She looked at Kidd who was holding Tim, his six-month-old nephew, and three-year-old Tilly was hanging off his arm. “Thanks for watching them.”

“Thanks for cooking dinner,” Kidd replied with a smirk. They were one of the shining points of his life. He loved coming around to see them and spending time with Liz. The kids loved him and he loved them. The best part being, when the night was over, he got to go home to a quiet house and not be disturbed by them at all hours of the night.

Between them, they put Tim and Tilly to bed, returning downstairs to find the house smelling so wonderful, Kidd’s stomach growled involuntarily.

“Oh, sorry about that,” he said. “Been a long day.”

“You’re not skipping meals are you?” Liz asked as she walked back to the kitchen.

“No, Mum, I’m not skipping meals,” Kidd said. “Just been a busy time at work and when it’s busy, I don’t get the chance to breathe, let alone eat.”

“Big case?” she asked.

“Not yet,” he replied. There had been

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