Strangers on a Bridge: A gripping debut psychological thriller!. Louise Mangos

Strangers on a Bridge: A gripping debut psychological thriller! - Louise Mangos


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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

      

       Chapter Fifty

      

       Chapter Fifty-One

      

       Chapter Fifty-Two

      

       Chapter Fifty-Three

      

       Chapter Fifty-Four

      

       Chapter Fifty-Five

      

       Chapter Fifty-Six

      

       Chapter Fifty-Seven

      

       Chapter Fifty-Eight

      

       Chapter Fifty-Nine

      

       Chapter Sixty

      

       Chapter Sixty-One

      

       Chapter Sixty-Two

      

       Chapter Sixty-Three

      

       Chapter Sixty-Four

      

       Chapter Sixty-Five

      

       Chapter Sixty-Six

      

       Chapter Sixty-Seven

      

       Chapter Sixty-Eight

      

       Chapter Sixty-Nine

      

       Chapter Seventy

      

       A Letter From The Author

      

       Acknowledgements

       Keep Reading …

      

       About the Author

      

       About the Publisher

       Chapter One

      APRIL

      I wouldn’t normally exercise on the weekend, but several days of continuous spring rain had hampered my attempts to run by the Aegerisee near our home during the week. The lake had brimmed over onto my regular running paths, turbid waters frothy with alpine meltwater. The sun came out that morning, accompanied by a cloudless blue sky I wanted to dive into. Simon knew I was chomping at the bit. He let me go, encouraging me to run for everyone’s peace of mind. He would go cycling later with a group of friends when I returned home for domestic duties.

      I chose a woodland track from the lowlands near the town of Baar, and planned to run up through the Lorze Gorge beside the river, continuing along the valley to home. A local bus dropped me at the turnoff to the narrow limestone canyon, and I broke into a loping jog along the gravel lane, which dwindled to a packed earthen trail. Sunlight winked through trees fluorescent with new leaf shoots, and the forest canopy at this time of day shaded much of the track. The swollen river gushed at my side. Branches still dripped from days of dampness as the sun dried out the woodlands. I lengthened my stride and breathed in the metallic aroma of sprouting wild garlic.


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