by Helen Phifer
She’d been walking along the corridor towards her kitchen, squinting through her hangover in search of a glass of water, wondering why Robert had left the light on.
She’d opened the door and stepped into the large room and heard her feet rustle on what felt like thick plastic sheeting. She looked down, surprised to find she was right. Looking up she was shocked and confused to find that the entire room had been covered; clear plastic sheeting had been taped to the walls, floor, cupboards, even the kitchen table. She didn’t understand.
The door that led out in to the garage opened, and she watched open-mouthed as a man stepped through it wearing a set of bright blue surgical scrubs, his face obscured with a mask, his hair covered, blue rubber gloves on his hands. For a moment Beth was certain she was having some kind of horrific nightmare, then she saw the glint of the butcher’s knife in his hand and knew whatever was about to happen was real. She whimpered and stumbled back as he took a step forward and their eyes locked. Suddenly she knew what the plastic sheeting was for and fear flooded through her.
Her instincts kicked in at last and she knew if she didn’t move quickly she was going to die. She had to get to a phone. She had to lock herself in a room until the police arrived. After several agonising seconds, her feet engaged, and she turned to run. She would have made it out of the door had she not slipped on the damn plastic underneath her and lost her footing. Scrabbling for purchase, she did the only thing she could think of and screamed as loud as she could over and over until the man’s dead weight dropped down onto her back and his hand clamped over her mouth. She bit into it as hard as she could, sinking her teeth in and breaking the skin. He shouted out in pain and swung his fist, connecting with her temple. Beth had felt the explosion of black and silver stars as her vision blurred. She tried to throw him off her. He cursed and pulled his hand away in shock. The moment his hand left her mouth she began to scream again, clambering to throw him off her and make a run for it. He fell to the side and she crawled on all fours out into the hallway. Dragging herself up onto her feet, she ran towards the stairs and the safety of her bedroom, where her phone was in her handbag.
The heavy footsteps ran in the opposite direction and she pumped her legs even harder. Too scared to turn around and see what he was doing, she carried on, hoping she’d scared him off. The sound of the blood rushing through her head filled her ears with white noise as she told herself don’t pass out, keep going. As she was about to reach the top step she felt a gloved hand clamp around her ankle.
His grip tight, he tugged so hard she lost her balance and began to fall back down the stairs. He fell with her and they landed in a tangled mess at the bottom, where her head smacked against the sideboard. She felt warmth as a gash opened across the side of her head and blood began to pour from it. Dazed, but not about to give up, she kicked out at her attacker, screaming again. This time he wrapped something around her mouth, pulling it so tight she dry-heaved. She kicked and fought until she felt herself slowly losing consciousness and could feel herself being dragged back towards the kitchen. Dazed and disorientated, she couldn’t do anything to stop him as she finally blacked out.
When she opened her eyes again she was lying flat on her back on a hard surface, which she soon released could only be the kitchen table. She was tied down, her arms and legs fastened tightly to the table legs. Beside her, his back was to her and she wondered what he was doing. He turned around to reveal he’d exchanged the knife he’d had in his hand for a small, sharp scalpel. He crossed the room towards her, a surgeon about to perform an operation, and she began to throw her head from side to side. He lifted a finger to his lips to shush her and she knew then, without question, that her life was over.
It was at that exact moment that the noise of splintering wood had broken through her thoughts like sweet music. She heard shouting from somewhere near the front door and thanked God for sending help. Her attacker lunged for her, but someone launched themselves at him, knocking him to the floor. Armed officers were standing over the two men grappling on the floor. Josh; he’d got there in time. The room went black for the second time as she passed out, bloodied, bruised, but alive thanks to Josh and the rest of the team.
She opened her eyes, her heart racing at the memories and stared at the calming water of the lake until her breath returned to normal. Standing up, she grabbed her bottle and walked back towards the house, leaving the kitchen doors wide open; it was too nice to close them, and Josh would be here soon. She was definitely getting a little braver. She had Phil to thank for that; his kindness and weekly classes had gone a long way to building back her self-confidence. Busying herself, she began to chop mushrooms, onions and garlic to sauté in a pan. She put a pan of water on to boil; she would add some pasta to it when the sauce was ready.
The intercom buzzed and she went to answer it. She didn’t recognise the car, but Josh turned up driving a different car almost every time he came. A hand came out of the window and waved wildly, so she opened the gates; no one but Josh did that geeky wave. Walking to the front door, she opened it and felt her mouth fall open at the sight of her friend as he climbed out of the car. He looked ashen, the stubble on his face was darker and thicker than she’d seen before. He smiled at her, but it didn’t reach his eyes like it normally did. Something was terribly wrong.
‘Something smells good,’ he said as he reached her.
‘Bugger, something smells burnt.’ Beth hurried back towards the kitchen where the pasta was boiling over and the vegetables were sticking in the pan. She turned the pans down, threw the chopped-up chicken in with the veg and added a sachet of sauce. Turning to him, she shrugged.
‘I’ve never said I was a good cook.’
He laughed. ‘No, but you do try, and I love you for that.’
She felt her heart double beat, busying herself by slicing the fresh baguette she’d bought on her way back from the undertaker’s. Josh sat down on one of the stools at the breakfast bar, and she knew without looking that he was staring out of the window at the lake. She glanced behind her; he looked so sad she had an overwhelming urge to wrap her arms around him and tell him everything was going to be okay. Only she didn’t. She served up the food and carried the plates over to him.
‘Do you want to eat outside?’
He shook his head. ‘Here’s fine, I can stare at the view without worrying about sharing my food with the flies.’
‘To be honest, Josh, I don’t think the flies will touch this. It isn’t my finest creation.’
‘It smells wonderful to me; I haven’t eaten all day.’
They ate in silence. Beth didn’t want to push him and put him off his food. She’d never seen him this down in all the years they’d been friends. When he’d finished everything on the plate and mopped up with several slices of bread, he carried his plate and hers over to the sink, rinsed them and then put them into the dishwasher. Beth sighed.
‘Jodie has trained you well.’
He snorted. ‘Yeah, you think so. She doesn’t seem to appreciate it much.’
‘Marriage is like that; you get used to each other. The passion goes, you end up being friends more than lovers.’
‘You’re quite an expert considering you’ve never been married.’
‘Ouch, I was trying to help.’
‘Sorry, that was uncalled for. I’m having the shittiest of days.’
‘I know, if it helps you look like shit as well.’
‘That good, eh?’
She nodded. ‘So, who’s going first; me or you?’
‘You. I’m intrigued about what you think you’ve done to make me so mad, and after today nothing surprises me.’
She raised an eyebrow at his comment, wondering what had happened to put him in this mood. ‘Right, well. Here goes. I was thinking about where the missing girl could be. What kind of place could someone keep Chantel Price and Annie? I thought Dean & Sons might be a good place to start because they dealt with the funeral of Florence Wright.’
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‘And?’
‘I went and paid them a visit. I spoke to James Dean and his niece Alex. I get the impression that those two don’t get along much.’
‘I can’t believe you went there too! I went there yesterday and got caught sneaking around on the CCTV. Got a bollocking from the boss. I’m not allowed back there unless I can get sufficient grounds for a search warrant.’
Beth smiled at him. ‘Well at least that makes me feel a little better. I did walk in through the front door.’
‘Did you find anything out?’
‘Not really, I think it was a waste of time. I spoke to James, who said he didn’t notice anything strange when he was preparing Florence’s body. That’s not the worst of it though. I took a photo of Chantel Price with me and asked him if he recognised her.’
Josh laughed. ‘I’ve done a lot worse.’
‘Good, you have? I feel really bad about it. Anyway, on the way out I figured in for a penny in for a pound and showed the picture to his niece, Alex. She took a lot longer looking at it than he did, and I can’t say for sure, but I think there was a flicker of recognition in her eyes. I gave her my business card and told her to call me if she needed to chat, then I left. I’m sorry, are you mad?’
‘No. I’m more impressed that you did it. That’s interesting that we both came up with the same idea. Let’s hope you’ve stirred something in her memory, and she gets in touch.’
‘I’ve told you mine, now you tell me yours.’ She reached and took hold of his hand. He squeezed her fingers gently.
‘I forgot my phone, went home for it and found Jodie in bed with Carl from CSI.’
‘Oh no, I’m sorry, Josh. You must be so hurt.’
He shrugged. ‘Hurt yes, but a little bit relieved. Things haven’t been good for a long time now.’
‘What will you do? Have you got somewhere to go?’
‘I’ll find somewhere.’
‘You have somewhere here, Josh, and it would be nice to have a bit of company. You can stay here as long as you like, there’s plenty of room. You can eat your breakfast and stare at your favourite view every day. You might have to feed yourself, though, I’m not really the domestic type.’
Josh laughed. ‘Thank you, Beth.’ He stood up and walked around to where she was sitting. He bent down and kissed her on the cheek. ‘I promise I won’t get in your way.’
She felt her cheeks flush pink and her fingers reached up to touch the spot where he’d kissed her.
Fifty-Four
Josh carried the small suitcase in from the back of the car and Beth took him up to the spare room. He put the case in, thanked her again then told her he had to go. She gave him the code for the gates, and he knew that for her this was a huge step, though he’d never betray her trust. He was glad she was beginning to come out of her shell. He’d watched her hide away for far too long.
He left her waiting for the camera guy and went back to the station to see where everyone was up to with the enquiries he’d left for them to follow up. He was still angry about Carl, and the fact that he worked with him and had trusted him irritated him all the more. As he pulled into the station’s car park the CSI van was nowhere to be seen. Good. Carl had better stay out of his way. Parking next to Sam’s Clio, he got out and went inside. The smell of fish and chips lingered in the corridor. Something about the design of this building meant that no matter what someone ate for lunch, the rest of the building could smell it until the next meal time. He was full of Beth’s pasta and grateful for her offer of a place to stay with no strings attached. Both of them worked hard, would likely pass like ships in the night and spend very little time together, so at least they wouldn’t get on each other’s nerves. Well, he hoped he wouldn’t get on hers; he knew she could never get on his.
He sat down at his desk and logged onto the computer. He needed a break in the case and he needed it now, before anything else happened. The door opened and Sam walked in.
‘Boss, there are three burials planned this week. Two of the graves have already been partially dug. The cemetery manager has put a stop on them until the morning of the funeral. Barry and the other bloke, I can’t remember his name, are going to take it in turns to keep an eye on the three separate sites.’
‘Good, thank you. I think I’ll ask for volunteers to sit in a car in plain clothes and watch as well.’
‘Is everything okay?’
He didn’t want to get into it with Sam, with anyone. He didn’t want the whole station speculating about his personal business. Paton arrived in the office, took one look at Josh and grimaced.
‘Anything on Jason Thompson?’ Josh asked.
‘We’ve been given another ex-girlfriend’s address by the ex-girlfriend we paid a visit to. She’s out of the country working on a cruise ship, so it’s a possibility he’s hiding out at her place. Task force are on their way there to stake it out.’
Josh was about to speak but Paton cut him off.
‘They can put the door through if they need to.’
‘Good.’
Josh’s phone began to ring; when he saw it was Beth he answered it.
‘Hi, it’s me. Remember the girl from the undertaker’s I told you about earlier?’
He nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘Well, I’ve just had a very interesting conversation with her. She phoned me to tell me she’d like to speak to me in person, somewhere away from Dean & Sons. She thinks she recognises Chantel Price.’
Josh let out a whoop so loud it made both Sam and Paton jump as his fist smacked against the wooden desk. ‘When?’
‘I told her forty minutes in the coffee shop near the Windermere Lake Hotel you were at yesterday. Can you make it?’
‘Yes, I’m on my way. Thank you, Beth.’
Grinning, he stood up. ‘We might have a pretty decent lead; Paton, I still want you to go with task force and put that door through if you need to. Thompson isn’t off the hook yet.’
‘What about me?’ said Sam.
‘You can come with me, but you might have to wait in the car. I don’t want to spook her if she has information and too many of us might tip the balance. Is that okay?’
‘Fine by me.’
For the first time in hours he felt a spark of hope that things might fall into place. That this woman might give them a connection to Dean & Sons, so they could get a warrant and tear the place apart.
Fifty-Five
Beth met Josh at the hotel car park, and they walked across the narrow pedestrian street to the coffee shop together.
‘I don’t want to scare her, so if you sit a couple of tables away from me when she comes, I’ll ask if she agrees to you being present. If she does, I’ll give you the nod.’
‘Thank you, Beth, you don’t know how much this means.’
‘It might not be anything, so don’t get your hopes up, but you’re welcome. I think you’re becoming a bad influence on me, Josh. I’ve never felt the need to go and act all Kay Scarpetta on a case. I don’t know what came over me.’
He laughed. ‘Me neither, but I like it. What with me getting my arse kicked for sneaking around the other day and you going there out of the blue, if this all goes horribly wrong we can set up the best private detective agency in the UK.’
It was Beth’s turn to laugh. ‘God, I hope not. I don’t think I could cope with the anxiety, although it would be a bit exciting. In fact this is the most exciting thing I’ve done in a long time. I’ve even had to cancel my security guy to come here; I’m truly living dangerously now.’
He stared at her a little too long, and she felt the heat begin to rise up her throat, turning her cheeks pink.
‘You didn’t have to do that.’
‘I know, but I thought we’d better catch her whilst she wants to talk, in case she thinks about it and changes her mind. I also thought if you were stopping at mine I might feel a little bit safer and not quite as paranoid.’
He reached out and squeezed her arm. ‘I hope so. You de
serve to be happy, Beth. Not living under the shadow of what happened.’
The café was busy; the perils of a warm summer’s day in the Lake District. Josh snagged a table outside on the patio whilst Beth went to get the drinks. When Alex arrived he’d leave her to it and go and sit on the church wall opposite. He looked around, he loved people watching and was sure that was what made him a good detective.
After a while Beth appeared with three cardboard cups and passed him one.
‘I got you a latte with an extra shot. I thought you might need the caffeine.’
He smiled as he took it from her and stood up. ‘There’s nowhere to sit, so I’ll go and hang around the church.’
‘God, not you as well. Where were you last week?’
He spat the mouthful of hot coffee all over the front of his suit. ‘Very funny for a doctor.’ Shaking his head, he screwed the napkins up she’d passed him to blot up the coffee and left them on the table. He walked off and settled himself on a bench in the churchyard that looked onto the café.
Fifty-Six
Beth sipped her latte, hoping Alex hadn’t changed her mind and had second thoughts. The thought of Chantel Price’s body being stuck in the mortuary fridge for the foreseeable future made her heart break. She could see Josh: he was sitting on a bench, his eyes closed, face lifted to catch the sun’s rays. He didn’t deserve what had happened to him this morning, even if his marriage was already on the rocks.
‘Beth.’