‘They’re all in your class?’
‘Yeah, I don’t know where they live though, sorry. You don’t think me or Ryan are in danger do you? Maybe we need to be in a safe house? What if they’re targeting us all?’ Janelle was serious now, the impact of losing two friends hitting her as her mind flashed back to the bad dreams she’d had the night before. Whoever it was may well be gunning for her and Ryan next. She felt chills bring out goose-bumps all over her, and instinctively, she wrapped her arms round herself again.
‘I don’t think that’ll be necessary at the minute. You just need to be on your guard, be aware of your surroundings and ring us on three nines if anything weird happens, OK?’
Janelle nodded, but she didn’t feel safe. She wanted to be in a safe house now. Somewhere no one knew where she was. Her and Ryan. Maybe if she spoke to him later, his parents would be able to push the issue. His dad was a doctor, and his mum worked for the courts in some capacity.
She’d never really understood what fear felt like – it had started clawing at her when she’d found out about Glen being killed, then last night the tendrils had threatened to choke her in her sleep, waking her every hour with a nightmare. Dreams so bad her skin had practically blistered from the imagined flames. And beneath the fear, now she felt shame too. This was serious. She wanted to find who’d killed her friends, and she’d just deliberately given the police false information. Why had she done it?
‘Right, I think we have what we need for now. I’ll need you to pop down to the station later today for a voluntary interview. It’ll be much the same but the questions will be more in depth. Think about your whereabouts and interactions with your friends over the last few weeks, anything that seemed out of place. And if you have any evidence of these other girls bullying you and your friends, if you could bring that too, that would be great. Can we say about 3pm this arvo?’
‘Um, you really need to speak to me again? I thought we’d covered everything you needed to know. I just want to go back to bed,’ letting herself show the emotion she felt when she thought about Glen, she looked up with tears in her eyes.
‘We still need to speak to you, I’m sorry. I know this is difficult, but it will give us information we need to pursue whoever did this to Glen and Kelly-Ann. Ryan will be coming down, too, so it’s not just you.’
‘Do I need legal representation?’
‘Not unless you think you need it. It’s just a voluntary interview, Janelle, you don’t have to answer anything that makes you feel uncomfortable and you will be free to leave at any point.’
Janelle nodded, ‘OK, 3pm’
‘Good, good, we’ll see you down the station then.’
Janelle stood and walked the two men to the door. She really didn’t want to go to the station. But she didn’t want to be home alone either. What if someone came after her?
She shivered, swallowing hard, trying to dispel the nausea she felt.
4th October, 0820 hours – Geneva Road, Darlington
She woke slowly, stretching and yawning. Her bed was soft, the bedding tickled her exposed skin. It had been the first night she’d slept in her bed in about six months. She hadn’t heard her mother whispering frantically to her dad in the middle of the night, begging him to kick her out of the house altogether, hadn’t heard her dad reply that he would not just dump his only daughter, hadn’t heard him reassure her mother that she wouldn’t carry through on any threats, and that in a few days it would all be back to normal.
She’d slept more soundly than she had in a long time, her active mind slowing and allowing her to drift so deep that she didn’t even dream. She didn’t want to get up.
Hearing movement downstairs though, she pushed the bedding off and stood, tying her long hair back in a messy ponytail.
She felt good. Not only had she been doing what she loved lately, but also things were looking up on the home front. She knew all she had to do now was maintain the control she’d obtained last night by standing up to her parents. If they didn’t comply, she’d carry her threats out. The house would go up like a tinder box – her dad was a believer in traditional furniture – lots of heavy wood, thick curtains, and dense carpets, all of which had been down for years. All old-school stuff too, none of that newfangled flame retardant material. It wouldn’t take any effort at all to incinerate the whole place. With her parents inside if they weren’t careful.
Fixing a smile in place, she made her way down to the kitchen.
‘I’d like eggs for breakfast,’ she addressed her mother before sitting at the table as though it was something she did every morning. She saw the surreptitious glance her mother threw her father, and stared pointedly at him, waiting for him to nod at her mother. Which he duly did.
She liked this – the feeling of power. It was heady, like a drug, and already she wanted more.
‘Fried not scrambled, two slices of buttered toast. And a cup of coffee.’
Her dad pursed his lips together – it must be killing him not saying something.
Her mother carefully put the china plate in front of her daughter, and stepped backwards. She could almost see her mother shaking. It was good they believed she would carry through on her threats. She’d quickly graduated from obedient daughter, to someone like Janelle, someone who got what she wanted.
Anger stabbed at her as she thought about Janelle, comparing herself to the bitch she’d fought with forever. She’d bet Janelle did exactly what her parents wanted, no arguments. Or parent at any rate – just mum now, she knew because she’d been watching.
It wouldn’t be long – not long at all until Janelle would pay for being such a bullying cow, pay for the years of pain she’d caused all three of them. Then she’d tell her friends, make them understand that it all had to be done to protect them all. It was what friends did.
‘Can I get you anything else, Susie?’ Her mum’s voice was quiet, but it broke through her thoughts.
‘No, thank you, mother. This will be all.’ Susie smiled a fake smile, knowing how much it would bother her dad who was staring at her intently.
15
Ed had waved Kevin off a few seconds before: he was due at work later and had to go back home before going in. Just the action of him leaving had left her feeling vulnerable. She was growing to hate this house she used to call home. She stood in the street with her arms folded over her chest, not really wanting to go back inside but knowing she had to. It was her home, no matter how many times her stalker had been inside, and she still lived there. Though now, she was doubting that that would be for very much longer. The oil on the landing had been the last straw. She knew she would be speaking to her estate agent about dropping the price before long, pushing the fact she wanted to sell.
‘Everything alright?’ asked Adam, her neighbour, pulling her from her thoughts with a jump.
‘Yeah, it’s fine thanks, Adam. Just pondering.’
‘Trouble in paradise? Saw your fella leaving. He’s been round a bit, ’eh? Do you good to have someone in your life.’
‘No trouble, he’s gone to work is all. Anyway, I’d best be…’
‘I spoke to Mrs Brown – she’s let the neighbourhood team know about the issue. Said they’ve put on extra patrols or summat. Not that that ever seems to make a difference. Never see a bobby walking the beat like they used to when we were kids.’
‘I guess not, they probably drive now,’ Ed turned back towards the path.
Adam laughed loudly – his guffaws echoing down the street like she’d just said the funniest thing ever. Ed felt a prickle of unease. She got a funny feeling when she was near Adam: he was a strange one.
‘’You’re funny, you are. Listen, erm, if you ever fancy going for a coffee or whatever, just give me a knock. Or I could, erm, well, I could give you my number if you like.’
‘I don’t think Kev would approve, hon, but thank you for the offer.’ Ed blatantly used her new relationship with Kevin to let Adam down gently, but she knew Kev wouldn
’t mind. It was all a bit odd anyway, her neighbour asking her out on a date.
‘Yeah OK, just thought I’d ask. God loves a trier and all that. And I’m definitely a trier.’
‘Sorry, Adam. Well, I’d better go. Need to get ready – have got some errands to run today.’
‘No problems. Hey, if you have any other problems in the house, just let me know, OK. I can pretty much turn my hand to anything, leaky taps, humming heating, you name it.’
Ed nodded then purposefully made her way back to her front door. He really was a strange one – she’d not had a great deal to do with him, he’d always been pleasant and said hello, and she knew he taught at the uni.
All the recent events were making her paranoid, she was sure of it. She shook her head, giving herself a silent telling off. It was ridiculous. He was just being nice, and she was overreacting.
Her back was feeling a little better this morning, and she made her way upstairs to shower – Kev had cleaned all traces of the oil up and the floor on the landing was spotless and not slippery anymore.
Setting the shower away, she stood for a minute while hot steam filled the room, her image blurring before her in the mirror as it filled with condensation. Lifting her arm, she pulled the vest top over her head and dropped her sweat pants to the floor, then stepped over the bath edge and under the scalding hot water. She’d always loved red hot showers – hotter than most people could bear. Her skin prickled in the heat, and she didn’t even notice the light brush of air as the bathroom door opened silently.
She was facing the tiled wall, or she’d have seen him enter from the landing, and stand staring at her through the clear shower curtain. She didn’t hear his finger draw in the steam on the mirror, as she soaped her hair. And as she turned to rinse, her eyes were closed to prevent the soap getting in and stinging. By the time she opened her eyes to reach for the sponge from the shelf at the end of the bath, he’d slipped out from the bathroom as silently as he’d entered.
Ed stood under the shower, letting the water cascade down her for a few more minutes. Eventually though, she knew she had to get out. She turned the dial off, grabbed the towel and wrapped it round her, then pushed the curtain back to step out of the bath.
That’s when she saw it.
She couldn’t even scream as she stared at the words. The bastard was in the room while I was in the shower. Unable to stop herself, she leaned forward and threw up into the toilet. She slammed the bathroom door shut, and sank to the floor, sliding down the door. Her back protested at the movement, but she was too busy staring at the words on the mirror to pay much attention.
‘Next time you die.’
4th October, 0850 hours – Edina’s residence
The police had arrived minutes after Ed had plucked up the courage to exit the bathroom and phone 999. She’d heard the sirens before she’d even finished on the phone with the control room. She couldn’t stop shaking – she’d towelled off on autopilot, and pulled on her joggers and a jumper. As the officer had knocked at the door, she’d been pulling her wet hair up into a loose bun.
She pulled the front door open, registering that it was still locked as she turned the key. She was never in the house with the door unlocked. Ever.
‘Miss Blaze? I’m PC Bell – someone’s been in the house, you say?’
‘Just call me Ed. Did they tell you this has happened before? He gets in all the time. I don’t know how. Neither does your sergeant, or Kevin. No one can find out how this bastard is getting in my house.’ She drew in a deep breath, trying to steady herself and reduce her tone from a pitch that only dogs could hear – it was hard though. Even with the cop stood in front of her, she was terrified.
‘It was mentioned. And you’re sure you locked the door?’ Ed knew PC Bell didn’t intend for his tone to sound so disbelieving, knew he had every intention of treating the job like any other, but she knew in her heart he thought she was a nutcase, possibly making this all up or suffering from some delusion. Except she knew it wasn’t. It was real. The bastard had been in her house again, while she was in the bloody shower!
‘The door was locked. Look I know this sounds crazy. Hell, I’ve wondered if I need to check into West Park I don’t know how many times. But this is happening, officer. I swear I’m not making it up. Just come upstairs and look at the mirror.’
He went up the stairs ahead of her, his police issue boots thumping on each step as they impacted with the hardwood treads.
‘Bathroom’s on the left,’ she said from behind him, her eyes about level with his utility belt and cuffs.
She paused behind him as he pushed open the door and stepped inside.
‘There’s nothing on the mirror.’
He moved aside, showing her. The mirror was wiped clean, smear marks across it as though someone had swiped at it with a towel or something.
‘No, but it was there, I swear… I saw…’ doubt crept into her mind. She was on strong painkillers. Had she seen the words? Or was she that terrified that her mind had just made them up? Suddenly she remembered. ‘My phone, I took a photo!’
Leaving the cop standing on her landing, she went into her bedroom and pulled her phone off charge. Holding her finger on the button for fingerprint recognition, it flashed to the home screen and she pressed urgently on the images icon. Scrolling down, she found what she was looking for.
‘See,’ she thrust the phone in the cop’s face, showing him the image she’d snapped, the words clearly visible on the date and time stamped image.
‘OK. Listen, I want you to go back downstairs and wait for me down there. I’m going to have a look around.’
‘Why? I –’ she suddenly realised that the mirror’s condition meant that the cop thought the person was still in the house.
Minutes later he joined her in the living room where she sat on the edge of the sofa, wringing her hands together.
‘Didn’t find any evidence that someone is still in the house. I can get the CSI down to have a look around but –’
‘It won’t make any difference,’ said Ed forlornly. ‘There’s never any evidence. Except for the bottle last time. The prints are being run through the system by Kevin Lang.’
‘Well, I’ll still ask them to pop down. Can’t hurt to have a look now can it? The more evidence we can get the better.’
Ed still wasn’t entirely sure he believed her, thought he was maybe just playing along until he got back to the nick and could tell everyone how he’d been to a crazy woman’s house. But at least he was doing something.
4th October, 1110 hours – Darlington University Campus
Something was wrong.
The lecturer had been standing on the podium since the start of the class – he had yet to load the power point presentation that all the staff used, and kept looking towards the door, an almost nervous kind of energy about him.
When the door opened and three people walked in, Susie knew instantly that they were cops. They didn’t have badges on show, or a uniform on. Even the clipboards they carried were nondescript.
Shit.
They’d found something. Something that pointed to her as Kelly-Ann’s killer. It was the only explanation.
But how?
She’d been so careful. Fire destroyed all evidence. Other than the accelerant, nothing should have survived that blaze. She glanced to the left nervously – her friends looked as shocked as she did. In fact, everyone in the room did.
The whole atmosphere had changed, like the students all knew that something was about to happen, that these people were cops and they were here for someone. There was a lot of whispering going on, everyone was sat forward in their seats a little, waiting to find out what was happening.
‘Sorry to barge in on your class like this,’ said one of them. He was the oldest of the three, maybe about forty. He looked quite distinguished, if you liked that sort of thing. A silver fox.
She slunk down in her seat a little as his eyes scanned around the room and
he continued, ‘My name’s Detective Inspector Alistair McKay. My colleagues and I are here in relation to something that happened yesterday. I think most of you will have heard that Kelly-Ann Ward was killed in the early hours of the morning on the third of October. At this time, we believe this to have been the same person responsible for killing Glen Peacock last week. We’re here to speak with all of you. I’ll point out that nobody is under arrest and that if you don’t want to talk to us you don’t have to. However, any information we can get may help us catch their killer. Even the smallest detail may be of use, so nothing is irrelevant. I’m leaving DC Bennett and DC Gill here at the uni – they’ll be in room five down the corridor until about 4pm today. We’d like it if you could pop along and have a chat with them – doing it this way avoids the need for you to come to the station. You’re welcome to bring a friend or a staff member in with you, or your parents if you’d prefer.’
Shit.
What to do? If she went and spoke to the cops then she might slip up accidentally, but if she didn’t and the rest of the class did then she’d look guilty. Maybe it would be a good thing to talk to them though, maybe if she could find out what they know, what she’d left behind, then she’d find a way around it. Registering pain, Susie glanced down at her hands. They were balled so tightly that her nails had dug into her palms, leaving deep grooves.
She unfurled her fingers and took a deep breath.
Nothing would be gained by losing it right now.
4th October, 1115 hours – Darlington University Campus
Heather couldn’t have moved if she tried. It was like her bum was glued to the seat, her elbows stuck to the desk in front of her with her hand at an awkward angle due to the cast. The same killer? What the hell did that mean? Was someone picking off all the members of the class?
Watch You Burn Page 16