Barbara L.

When a landslip on Pembrokeshire’s stunning coastal path reveals the harrowing remains of two bodies, ex-DCI Evan Warlow’s quiet retirement is shattered.

Detective Norman is out of retirement and back on the beat in a rainy Welsh seaside town. Llangwelli might be short on sunshine, but it's certainly not short on murders . . . Norman is a bit old-fashioned, but he's also willing to learn from his band of misfit recruits. He's asked to mentor a team of misfits in a sleepy Welsh seaside town. But training has barely begun when a woman's body washes up on the beach at Llangwelli.

It’s late evening when the Regional Control Centre receives a mysterious 999 call. No one speaks, but the call location is somewhere along a narrow, hardly used tree-lined stretch of road that leads nowhere. With no uniformed officers free to investigate, they pass the call on to DC Judy Lane at Llangwelli station. Lane informs DS Norman Norman who, concerned it may be a trap, agrees to meet her at the scene. But when Norman arrives, he finds a dead motorcyclist sitting against a tree, and the young detective unconscious nearby.

When a girl’s body is found strangled, raped, and horrifically mutilated by a boat’s propeller, deep in the heart of the Norfolk Broads, newly arrived Detective Inspector John Tanner is asked to assist with the investigation. At first, all the evidence points to a man who had a multi-million-pound reason to kill her. But when an alibi is produced from an unexpected source, and another body appears at the base of a slipway, Tanner finds himself turning to local girl Detective Constable Jenny Evans for help.

DCI Harry Grimm has a sneaking suspicion the bleak Yorkshire Dales are growing on him. Though shadows from his big-city past still loom, he’s finding his place among the quirky townsfolk and their eccentric eating habits. But his gruesome crime scene expertise takes center stage when a successful visiting author is found dead. Investigating the cantankerous writer’s entourage, Grimm lines up too many suspects with motives for murder. But with the evidence not adding up and the press piling on relentless pressure, the determined policeman could end up facing his own final chapter.

North Yorkshire, England. Detective Chief Inspector Harry Grimm is reluctantly easing into life in the dales. As he gradually acclimatizes to the slower pace of the countryside while he awaits a return to the city, he’s called out to inspect a farmer’s crushed body. And despite the doctor on site declaring it a tragic mishap, the seasoned police officer rolls up his sleeves when evidence points to foul play. With a mysterious clue the only connection and the not-so-quiet village in self-imposed lockdown, the city-bred cop hunts for a link lethal enough to lead to murder.

Criminologist Martin Knight lives a gilded life and is a thorn in the side of the police. But then his wife, Liz, goes missing. There is no good explanation and no sign of Martin.... To make things worse, Liz is the ex-girlfriend of DCI Craig Gillard who is drawn into the investigation. Is it just a missing person or something worse? And what relevance do the events around the shocking Girl F case, so taken up by Knight, have to do with the present? The truth is darker than you could ever have imagined.

D.I. Duncan McAdam is dispatched home to the Misty Isle. A body has been found buried in a remote location on the Waternish peninsula. Well-preserved in the peat, Isla Matheson—missing for the better part of two decades—is revealed to a shocked island community. A teenage runaway is dead...and no one is talking.

When legendary crime novelist William MacRae is found dead in suspicious circumstances at his Glasgow home, Police Scotland's premier investigator DCI John Lomond is put on the case. After discovering a list of seven bestselling authors–all old friends of MacRae's–Lomond and his team head north to the Ullapool Book Festival, where the seven are gathering to remember their fallen friend. But a vicious storm is closing in. And not everyone, it seems, has fond memories of MacRae. Or each other.

It all started harmlessly enough. An egged window, a deflated car tire, and a few garden gnomes knocked over. But then, the silent calls began–late nights and early mornings to landlines and mobiles, and numbers that no one should have access to.