Watched — Joanne Clancy

Darkness turned to light as the full moon lost its potency. The cold light of dawn crept over the horizon as the three-second flash from the lighthouse dimmed. The valley was still and quiet in the frosty morning air. It was shortly after half past nine when Anna Roche jumped into her. She drove carefully past the neighbouring house, wary of the black ice on the road, around the sharp bend, and down the steep, bumpy laneway. Something caught her eye as she neared the bottom of the lane. A piece of red material fluttered in the wind, stuck on the low barbed wired fence at the edge of the field. Then she saw the body, huddled at the base of the fence. She slammed her foot on the brake. Her heart was pounding as she opened the driver's door and got out. There was blood, a lot of blood, pooled around the body. She screamed and ran as fast as she could for help. The bloody, lifeless body was that of Alexandra Kingston, an artist of international acclaim. Alexandra was a regular visitor to Hook Head, the sleepy fishing village in County Wexford, Ireland. She loved the wild remoteness of the place, where she went to escape her hectic lifestyle, and spend some much-coveted time alone. She told her fiance she would be leaving Hook Head the following day, December 31, just in time to welcome in the New Year with him in London, but she would never make it home...