by Anne Lown
Chapter Seven
Shane smiled to himself. That was until a hand landed on his right shoulder. Dan shoved him, and he fell off the pavement into the road.
“Oi,” Shane said, but not really minding his friend’s playful bullying.
He’d escaped from the shop to find Dan had been outside waiting. He’d escorted him round to Three Stiles, where they were expected for a barbeque. The evening at Alex’s house was a riot. His wife, Catherine, saw to Shane’s wound after they’d pinned him to the floor and he stopped lashing out and gibbering about evil angels coming to steal him away. The encounter with the woman in the charity shop had terrified him. The huge wings growing from behind her back and her face contorting into the Devil had freaked him out.
Alex kept a close watch on the whiskey bottle and had managed Shane’s drinking for the rest of the night. Alex had had an incident before where Dan had mixed his drinks and then had fallen asleep in the toilet. Inside the house Dan’s manner had been placid, but outside the profanity spewed like an unchecked sewer with him barraging his mother with outrageous mutterings. His shame had come the next day after being told of his behaviour. Shane had cracked up when he’d told him.
The now sobering Dan had thanked his host for a great evening and led his friend away. It was only as they walked down the street in the direction of their camp that Shane remembered Maxwell was supposed to be meeting them.
“I doubt he even turned up,” Dan said, knowing he was probably right.
“But what if he did? Do you suppose he might’ve got caught up in the trap and been hanging from the tree for the last six hours?” Shane was getting anxious. He wrung his hands and blamed himself for their not being there to know. It was the start of his comedown; the symptoms were only going to get worse.
Dan lit a roll-up, passing it to his friend after a few drags. “Something to get you through the night.”
“Let’s go have a peek, see if he’s there.”
“He’s going to be so pissed if he is.”
Both men laughed, shoving each other while they walked along. The streets were mainly empty by that time of night, and the couple of people about were returning from the direction of the pub. They hid in one of the gardens, giggling to themselves until a woman walked by. She seemed unnerved, looking behind her. It took all Shane’s effort to keep his hand on Dan’s mouth, especially considering he sank his teeth in and wouldn’t let go. Shane gave him a slap, lost his balance where he was kneeling, and fell towards the hedge. She couldn’t have seen their costumes, that would have given her a fright, but she ran off down the road anyway
He allowed Dan to pull him up and back towards the road. The path into the woods was a clear opening in the trees, but it narrowed quickly once inside. Shane held on tight to the back of Dan’s t-shirt. He’d been there many times and knew the lay of the land with its twisting walkway and raised roots. Shane was sure if he let go he’d be stuck there until first light so didn’t complain about their slow progress. Fatigue was setting in. He willed his heavy limbs to keep going, seriously thinking about not checking the trap until morning.
“Do you think he really turned up?” Shane was hoping Dan would say no and lead them back to the tents.
“We can’t leave him if he has, he could die overnight.”
Shane nodded. That was what he didn’t want to hear. He took a deep breath.
Not much of a mate, are you?
His habit of chastising himself was something he didn’t admit to. It was bad enough he made terrible decisions, frittering away his money instead of saving each week, and borrowing from his friends, but not being there when they needed him made him feel crap. He no longer thought the whole thing was funny, hoping Maxwell was true to form and had stayed away.
They veered off their path to go farther into the woods to where they knew they’d built the trap. The nighttime animals scurried about, creating noise. Shane jolted at the sound of a snapping twig behind him. He whipped his head round and stared into the dark, not seeing anything at all. That frightened him, and he stepped faster and collided into Dan’s back.
“Hey, don’t push,” Dan said after he’d caught his foot on a tree root.
“I wanna get out of here. This place is eerie.”
“Didn’t you think to bring a torch with you?” Dan asked.
“Why me? You’re the big survival expert. I thought you’d be prepared for all this.”
“Well, I would’ve been if I hadn’t been chasing after your sorry arse all over the village.”
Shane shuddered. He felt like he was being watched. He knew it was impossible in the middle of the woods, but he couldn’t shake the feeling.
“Something doesn’t feel right,” Dan said, it seemed he’d noticed it, too. “You don’t think Maxwell’s hiding, do you?”
“He’d be pretty cold if he was, can’t see him hanging around tonight.” Shane snorted at his unintended joke.
“It’s got to be around here somewhere.”
The two men slowed down, sure they were near the trap. It’d be embarrassing if they got caught in their own joke. Shane waited quietly while Dan listened. Nothing human could be heard, so they proceeded to find the marked tree. It was their way of knowing they were close by without ending up in the trap. When Dan found what they were hunting for, Shane’s hand was knocked off the back of his friend’s t-shirt.
“Hey, don’t leave me.”
Now Shane had lost his guide, he didn’t dare budge until he heard something strange. He held out his arms and tried to use his fingers to find a tree trunk to hold on to. Turning around on the spot, he lost his sense of direction, not remembering the way they’d come in.
“Hey, Dan, where are you?”
There was no reply. A creeping sensation slithered up his back and right behind his ears. He shuddered again, his arms flapping in response. It was then he knocked something with his hand; it had the feel of clothing. He reached the same hand out to grasp what it was, thinking Dan was standing nearby and ignoring him on purpose. He caught the material again, but this time it moved away, the force of his touch shifting whatever it was.
That’s not Dan’s t-shirt.
Shane’s eyes widened in time with his mouth.
We caught Maxwell.
Something stirred behind Shane and slapped him on his shoulder. He flinched, ready to let out a scream.
“Keep still,” Dan said, “I think you’ve found it.”
Dan stepped around him, kicking into something on the ground. Shane waited while Dan used him to hold on to as he bent down to retrieve the item. Then there was a click, and light illuminated their surroundings. The thing that was hanging right in front of them was indeed human, but it wasn’t Maxwell.
“What the hell?”
Shane trembled uncontrollably, making it hard for him to stand still.
Dan shone the light on him. “Who is it?”
Somehow, Shane found his voice. “It’s Ed, my dealer.”
“Are you sure?”
Shane took the torch Dan found and illuminated the hanging man’s face. The sight of all the blood turned his stomach, and he heaved. It took a minute to get himself under enough control to answer. “Yeah, that’s him. Not seen him for some time, though. Why the hell’s he all the way out here?”
“Maybe searching for you?”
Shane nodded. It would be like the man to hunt him down. He’d even turned up at his place of work asking to see him. His colleagues had had to tell him Shane didn’t work there anymore just to get him to stop coming around.
“So what do we do now?”
“We can’t go back to the camp, it’ll be too obvious, us packing up in the night. Someone’s bound to see us clearing it away.”
“What about your car?”
Dan took a few moments to answer. “We’ll leave it where it is. Drive it back tomorrow when I’m sober. Don’t want to get stopped if we’ve managed to get any blood on us.”
“You su
re we can’t go back to the tent? We can pretend we didn’t know. Alex will prove where we were all evening.”
“All right, but if anyone’s sees us we’ll abort.”
“Hold the light still,” Shane said, giving the torch back to his friend. Shane slipped his hands into the dealer’s pockets and pulled out a reasonable bag of grass, some cash, and a piece of paper they’d look at later.
They retraced their steps and headed back to their camp, the light making the journey faster than the one they’d had coming in. Both men approached the edge of the clearing with stealth, unsure of what lay beyond the opening. It was a good thing they had. Voices came from the direction of the tents. Someone was inside.
“You stay here,” Dan said.
Dan crept into the camp, the torch beam mostly blocked by the covering of his hand, but still showing his progress. He stood for some seconds before signalling to Shane to circle the line of trees to the other side of the clearing from where he was. Shane pressed his fingers to his mouth, trying to stem a snigger. They were going to play a prank and frighten the intruders. He stepped carefully from between the trees, not wanting to make any noise, and proceeded around the edge. It was a great idea—they’d hardly be up to joking if they’d earlier killed a man.
Dan joined Shane, and they hid a small way into the woods, camouflaging part of their costumes. On the count of two, the pair started to wail and cry. Their sounds were quiet at first, building momentum until they got the reaction they were hoping for.
There was a sudden commotion within the tent. The voices they’d heard changed from jovial to panic as the people grabbed their things and stumbled outside. A female screeched at her partner to get off her, and a male swore in response. Shane found it hard not to laugh—he knew if the couple saw them they’d be terrified. Dan’s hand was barely lifted off the torchlight, making them visible in a pinkish glow. The female screamed, and the pair escaped into the trees, no doubt in the direction they’d arrived.
*******
Pete kept a tight grip on his girlfriend, Faye’s, hand. In his other he held his jeans. They would need to stop somewhere so he could put them on. The stinging nettles were catching on his shins, the tiny hairs on the leaves irritating his skin. He had no idea where he was going, they just had to get away, and he hoped whatever that was at the campsite didn’t follow.
“Ow, slow down.” Faye sobbed.
Pete relented and stopped long enough for them to get dressed. He hadn’t considered she’d get caught with the nettles, too. The woman was always moaning, and most of the time he blocked it out.
So much for a shag in the open.
They’d found the tent by chance, and stupidly, he’d not thought anyone would catch them. It wasn’t like they were going to be long. Once he’d got his satisfaction, the whole thing was over.
“You finished yet?” His tone showed his irritation.
“I suppose.”
Pete grabbed Faye’s wrist, squeezing too much. He felt her trying to release his fingers but ignored it. They needed to get to the road, but he’d lost his sense of direction since he’d strode through the trees in panic. The two who’d appeared on the other side of the clearing had looked far from normal, and he hadn’t wanted to wait around to face their anger. Not that he’d admit that if asked. He considered himself a lover, not a fighter.
“I think it’s this way.”
“Can’t you use your phone? There’s a light on that.”
He ignored her suggestion, worried the pair might follow after all and would see the glow. He didn’t have enough battery power, anyway, to last them back to the road, so they’d just have to manage in the dark. The woods weren’t that big, they were bound to come out somewhere.
Inching forward, Pete used his free hand to navigate the way, catching his fingers against trees to keep them on course. The journey was taking too long; maybe they were going around in circles. He stopped still, let go of Faye, and pulled his phone from his jacket pocket. Maybe he could bring up a map and put himself back on the right path towards the village. He held the mobile up to his face and entered his passcode. The thing came to life, its light illuminating his face.
“Oh my god,” Faye gasped.
“What now?” he replied, more irritated than before.
“Pete!”
“What?”
“I…I think we’ve found something.”
He glanced up from the device and saw what Faye had seen. He reached his hand back and took hold of one of hers. With the other hand he moved the phone close to what was in front of him, not quite believing what it was.
“That’s a dead body. We’d better call the police.”
Chapter Eight
Jenny sank deeper beneath the covers and pulled them up to her chin. She’d gone to bed hoping to sleep away the events of Saturday evening, but her mind wouldn’t shut off. Not even the dark and chilly room had helped.
I’m content and I’m sleepy.
She’d read somewhere that repeating the phrase enough times would make it true, but other thoughts kept breaking past it. It didn’t make her feel any better to pick over the carcass of last night’s disaster. Jenny sighed. She must’ve looked like a right tramp, snogging two men in succession. Going back to work after the weekend would prove the hardest part—the rumours would’ve circulated by then. Jenny cringed. Pictures. Someone was bound to have taken some.
This does not represent my reality.
Jenny gave up and shoved back the quilt. Maybe it was better to start her day than lie there ruminating. If she let her mind wander it would return to that time back in the spring when Martin had pinned her to the ground with his hands around her neck. She pushed the image from her mind, not wanting to relive the sensation of his weight on top of her, and switched on the bathroom light. There was a growing bruise on her forearm. She’d seen it before bed, but there was no point telling Scott, he didn’t take any of it seriously. Everybody fights, was what he’d say.
Yeah, sure, if you’re a bloke drinking your body weight in beer.
Now Martin was at it again. He’d asked for the diaries. Surely by now he’d worked out she didn’t have a clue where they were. Maybe their ruse to flush out the killer had been too convincing. He certainly seemed to believe it.
Jenny put on warm clothing. She’d heard sirens in the night. Their high-pitched wailing had started in the distance, she guessed over towards Bishop, the nearest main town. They’d kept getting louder until she was sure they were close by. Jenny had had no intention of wandering around in the dark. She’d decided to wait for daylight and would then walk to where she presumed the emergency had happened.
Outside, the chill morning breeze played with her hair. Jenny caught loose strands in her fingers and hooked them behind her ear. She could’ve done with a hat but hadn’t thought to wear one, so she’d have to use her hood instead. The clouds still threatened rain, looming overhead, but none had come. She folded her arms over her chest and used one hand to keep her collar closed, shivering to build up warmth.
A few people milled around, even at this early hour. They were all going in the same direction, so she tagged along to see where it led. She didn’t have to go far to find out what was going on. At the edge of the village, emergency vehicles stood idling on the lane. They were close to the entrance to one of the woodlands that surrounded the community. She’d been in there herself, the trails proving to be more of a trek than a stroll.
A gaggle of people stood nearby, held back by the police cordoned-off area. There was a similar presence to when Paul had died in the pub annex, but this time there wasn’t the convenience of the café just across the road. No builders and other construction site workers stood around with their cups of tea and bacon sandwiches in hand. The rubberneckers would have to make do with leaning against hedges and stomping their cold feet.
A couple of police officers moved through the growing crowd, asking what knowledge the onlookers had of the incident. Jenny
watched their progress, and a few familiar faces appeared tired and weary. Something touched her arm. She turned her head to see an officer trying to catch her attention.
“I need to ask some questions. Did you see anyone acting suspicious in the area from yesterday afternoon onwards?”
Jenny shook her head. “No, I was at the pub in the evening but didn’t notice anything different from normal.” She answered the rest of the questions as best she could, but she really didn’t have anything to tell them, except for Scott breaking in to her home. Again. That was one thing she kept to herself.
Now she’d done her duty, she wandered over to where Harvey stood. He hadn’t dressed up the evening before, nor had Nick who was leaning on a wall beside him. He seemed intrigued by the event; she could see him absorbing every detail and would probably give a running account at the packet sorting belts on his next shift.
“What’s going on?” Jenny approached the two men, not bothering with a greeting of hello.
“I think they found a body.” Nick was nothing if not straight to the point.
Jenny blinked. A body? Her thoughts immediately jumped to Scott. He’d been angry when he’d left her house. She’d virtually accused him of going after the dealer for another fight. Surely he wouldn’t have gone too far? “Do they know who it is?”
“Not yet, or rather they’re not saying,” Nick replied. “So far they only want to know if anyone saw anything going on or even suspicious.”
“And have they?”
Jenny didn’t wait for Nick to answer. She pulled her phone from her jacket pocket and speed dialled Scott’s number. He didn’t pick up.
Maybe I should’ve mentioned the fight in the pub car park.
She immediately chastised herself. It was daft to think it was in any way connected with a dead body in the woods. Scott was probably at home or even Jason’s house, sleeping off all the booze he’d consumed. She was certain they stayed at each other’s place whenever they went on a bender. It wasn’t much of a fight, anyway, nothing to really report. It took her a moment to realise Nick was still talking.