Campus Killings

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Campus Killings Page 12

by Oliver Davies


  “Absolutely not.” He sent me a look. “How about your pretty teacher?” he said teasingly. “Why don’t you two go running together? Sounds like your perfect date.”

  I laughed despite myself. “It wouldn’t be my worst.”

  Stephen perked up. “What was your worst date?” he asked, far too eagerly.

  We spent the rest of the drive talking about disastrous dates, which morphed into Stephen gushing about his wife, who he loved to death as he liked to tell me frequently. I didn’t mind. It was nice to hear him so happy.

  But my heavy mood had returned by the time we got back to the station, and I could almost feel the weight of the grey mist hanging over the whole place. Gaskell and Sedgwick hadn’t made any huge strides forwards, either unless they’d been keeping me out of the loop, and there was a general sense of dispiritedness pervading the department. We all wanted to crack this case and get the monster who’d killed the two women put behind bars. That they’d so successfully evaded us all so far was both a professional embarrassment and a source of personal distress for me.

  I was as determined as I’d always been to figure this one out, but the fire that had lit us all up after the second murder was first announced had begun to fade into a trudging stoicism . I knew that before long, if we didn’t make progress, another serious crime would come up, and this one would get pushed aside by necessity.

  I was determined not to let that happen.

  Eleven

  I was out running after work that evening, a couple of days before Halloween, pushing myself hard. Since arriving in York, I’d mapped out the nearest hills, even the tiny ones, and figured them all into a complicated and winding route for when I was wound up and in need of really pushing myself, as I was tonight. I hadn’t been on a longer run in a while, with being so caught up in work, and I’d been making do with the short runs to and from the station when the weather wasn’t abysmal. It was getting cold enough now that my breath misted in front of me in the early mornings and evenings, and I had to wear gloves to stop my fingers turning into chapped, red sticks of ice.

  I didn’t carry my phone while running, so I didn’t know that Taylor had called me until I’d got home and finished showering, which was when I finally checked it.

  My heart jumped, more than half in worry when I saw her name. I called her back immediately, even though I was still half-dried and standing, shivering, in just a towel.

  “Taylor?”

  “Hi, Darren.”

  She sounded the opposite of upset, so I relaxed, rubbing a towel over my copious head of hair that was badly in need of a good trimming.

  “Hi,” I said warmly. “How’re you doing?”

  We fell into talking, and I held the phone to my bare shoulder as I got dressed, pulling on some boxers and a t-shirt before moving towards the kitchen for a glass of wine. It was a Friday, and I was looking forward to the weekend for once. Usually, I hungrily embraced my work and chased it like a dog in pursuit of a bone, but the two cases together were wearing me down. Though I felt guilty for it, I badly needed a couple of days away from thinking about the two women who’d been killed.

  “So,” Taylor said, once we’d exchanged the usual small talk. “I was wondering if you’d be free- if you’d want to come out for drinks?” She sounded unusually uncomposed, and I couldn’t help but smile.

  “I’d love that,” I said. There was another twinge of guilt from my conscience for thinking of romance and Taylor while the murder investigation was still going on. Still, I couldn’t put my private life on hold forever, and I liked the smart, blue-eyed teacher a lot. “When would you fancy?” I took a sip of my wine and sighed in contentment. I liked beer as much as anyone, but a good red wine relaxed me more than anything.

  She hummed. “Tonight?”

  I blinked, surprised. “Oh,” I said, before I could stop myself.

  She laughed, a little self-consciously. “No?”

  “Yes!” I said quickly. “Absolutely yes, one hundred per cent! I’ll just need to… put some trousers on.” I chuckled as I looked down at myself.

  “Oh?” Taylor said, sounding amused and also interested.

  I flushed. “Yep.” I headed towards my bedroom for some smart clothes, opening the wardrobe and wondering what to wear. Tucking the phone against my bare shoulder again, I said, “When and where? Any ideas?”

  “Well,” she said, drawing the word out as she thought about it. “I haven’t been to Turtle Bay in a while. We might bump into a couple of my students, but they do great cocktails there.”

  I tensed slightly at the mention of students but made myself relax. I couldn’t exactly avoid them entirely, they made up a decent portion of York’s population.

  “I haven’t heard of it,” I admitted, picking out a plain, light blue shirt and some dark jeans. “But it sounds good. I haven’t had cocktails in a while.”

  “Me either,” Taylor said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “They have food too. Otherwise, you’d be at risk of having to carry me home.”

  I snorted, sitting down on the bed. “You assume I’m not a hell of a lightweight too.”

  “You’re, like, six foot seven!” she laughed. “You can’t be a lightweight!”

  “I promise you, I’m not six foot seven,” I laughed back.

  We talked back and forth for a while longer. Taylor was really easy to talk to and laugh with and, when we hung up, my smile lingered for several minutes afterwards.

  I ate some toast, good for soaking up alcohol, brushed my teeth, and got dressed in time to go and meet Taylor at the bar. I could’ve driven over, but my phone’s map said it wasn’t too far, so I walked over, with a precautionary umbrella in hand. The last date I’d been on, I’d turned up with my hair plastered to my forehead by the rain. I had many faults, but at least I learned from my mistakes.

  But the night stayed clear and chilly. I wore a jacket that made my shoulders look good, but it wasn’t terribly warm and, though I walked quickly, I was glad to reach the bustling bar.

  The people clustered outside smoking, chatting and laughing did look a good ten years younger than I was, but there were a few groups of older people, and the bar itself looked brightly lit and lively.

  I was a touch early and, weaving between the clusters of tipsy young people, I found a seat for us at the back. It was one of the few tables left, but it was also an instinct for me, to want to be able to see the whole room, especially the entrance. And tucking us away a little would give us some privacy, although Taylor might not be able to spot me easily when she arrived.

  I stood up to scan the room, looking for her, before pulling my phone out to let her know that I’d arrived. She didn’t reply, and I guessed that she might be driving. I thought about getting a drink, but the queue at the bar was already getting long, and I didn’t want to lose the table. Instead, I spent my time watching the people in there and looking around the room itself. It was a large space, though fairly low-ceiled, and done up in a rough wood/industrial way that was fashionable at the moment. The bar was a circular, freestanding affair and had customers gathered all around it, waiting to be served.

  The theme of the place was tropical, like an urban beach shack, but it’d been overlaid with Halloween decorations, including orange fairy lights, pumpkins and strings of paper skulls hanging from the beams on the ceiling. The drinks, too, when I took a glance at the menu, were pretty standard flavours, but had been renamed with Halloween in mind.

  There was a large, loud group of university-aged students off to my left, near the entrance to the loos. There were maybe seven or eight of them, but they made enough noise for twice that many. From the way some of them were staggering around when they got up, they’d probably been here since opening time and drunk their way through all the empty glasses now crowding their table. As a police officer, I couldn’t help but be slightly tense, aware of the trouble they might cause. For now, they remained loud but jovial and relaxed, so I turned my attention away.<
br />
  My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I smiled to see a text from Taylor saying that she’d arrived. Standing up, which brought my eye-level above most people’s heads in here, I spotted her by the door and waved. She didn’t see me, and I sent her a text to tell her where I was, watching her read it before scanning the space for me.

  She grinned when she finally spotted me and waved shyly. She looked incredibly pretty as she made her way towards me, with carefully done make-up highlighting her blue eyes and her dark hair flowing in gentle curls down her shoulders. She wore a little silvery dress that was totally in contrast to the fluffy cardigans she’d worn at her house, but I liked her in both of them. She had a jacket over her arm, which she draped over the chair opposite me before she came over to hug me.

  “Hi,” I smiled as she wrapped her arms around me, and I squeezed her back lightly. She reached up to kiss my cheek as we separated, and I felt heat rise in my face.

  “Hi, Darren,” she said warmly, meeting my eyes for another long moment before she turned to look at the bar. “Pretty busy night, hm?”

  “Sure is. I didn’t want to lose the table.”

  She nodded, tucking her hair back behind her ear. “Friday nights can be a little crazy. Is it okay or-?”

  I waved my hand. “It’s good, don’t worry.” I paused. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

  She smiled, looking shy and delighted at the same time. “You’re not too bad yourself, Inspector Mitchell.”

  I groaned. “God, don’t call me that.” I laughed and, when I looked back to the bar, saw that the queue seemed to have shortened. “I’m dying to try these famous cocktails, what can I get you?”

  She plucked a menu from the table and picked out a passion fruit concoction, and I went to get us two of them. The night progressed smoothly after that as we took it in turns to buy the drinks, and the noise of the other customers ratcheted up around us. It was getting near to eleven when the clubs opened. People were beginning to leave while Taylor and I chatted easily over a bowl of chips to take the edge off the alcohol we’d had.

  I excused myself to head to the loo, which was busy, and it was a few minutes before I could get back to her. I wasn’t sure what exactly made me tense when I returned to the main room and saw a young man talking to Taylor. He wasn’t looming over her. While she didn’t look particularly uncomfortable, there was something about the interaction that set me on edge. He was a big lad, too, easily as tall as me and as wide across the shoulders as Stephen, and the atavistic part of my brain that automatically sized up potential threats told me that I’d struggle to take him in a fight.

  Not that I needed to, I reminded myself as I walked over. As much as a part of me wanted to sidle up alongside Taylor and put an arm protectively around her, I restrained myself and moved towards my seat opposite her.

  The younger man turned around as I approached, and there was a cold, dark look in his eyes, although they were as blue as Taylor’s. He was handsome enough, and he shot me a friendly smile. There was something about it that struck me as ingenuine and put me on edge. He held out his hand.

  But I shook his hand politely and turned to give Taylor a quizzical look, frowning slightly at her. I’d been wrong; she was uncomfortable. She was hiding it well, but her shoulders were stiff, and her left hand was clenched around the back of the chair.

  She gave me a tight smile. “Darren, this is Will,” she said, evenly. “One of my old students. He came over to say hi.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I lied, and he widened his easy-going grin.

  “Hi, man. Good to meet you too. Sorry for interrupting you two.” He winked at me, all charm. It unsettled me. “Didn’t mean to disturb your little,” he gestured between us and lifted his eyebrows, “date. Have a nice night, miss.” He nodded to Taylor and walked away, a certain swagger in his step suggesting the weight of him.

  Taylor sank back down into her chair. Her face had gone pale behind her make-up, and she was all but trembling.

  “Taylor?” I said quietly, leaning in slightly to be heard over the music. “Are you alright?”

  Silently, she shook her head, and she kept sending glances over towards the man, Will. He was with the loud group I’d noticed earlier, and they were just leaving. He turned as they were going to give Taylor a wave that looked entirely friendly on the surface, but I was close enough to Taylor to feel her shudder.

  “Taylor? Let’s go, okay?” I said gently. “I’ll take you home.”

  “In- in a minute,” she said. She was as shaky as she’d been when Stephen and I had first visited her about the dead fox being left on her porch. “When he’s gone,” she added, lower.

  I scanned her face, trying to read what had happened exactly, but I could see that she didn’t have it in her to talk right now and reached out to take her hand, squeezing it gently.

  “Did you drive over?” I asked. She nodded. “Parked nearby?” Another nod. “Okay, good.”

  The police-trained side of me weighed up the worst-case scenarios, and the worst one was that that guy was a threat to both her and me. I didn’t want to have to walk her home and it was good that she’d parked close by, in case she needed to grab anything from her car when we left. I didn’t think either of us were sober enough to drive, and I wasn’t risking anyone’s safety, or my police career, trying to. We could easily call for a taxi.

  We waited ten minutes or so, during which Taylor didn’t speak, nor touch the remains of her drink or the chips, and I just sat with her, my hand in hers. I felt her gradually calm down, the tension leaking out of her, and she yawned.

  I smiled. “Tired?”

  The adrenaline spike of seeing that man, Will, who she was clearly afraid of, had worn off and left her wanting to sleep, especially when combined with the alcohol.

  “Yeah,” she said, a little sheepishly. She was looking at me sideways, like she was waiting for me to grill her on what had happened, but I didn’t think she wanted to talk yet.

  “You okay to leave now?” I asked, keeping my tone as neutral as I could, not wanting to imply that I was impatient. If she needed to wait another half hour to feel comfortable, that’s what we’d do.

  But she nodded. “I’m good.”

  I squeezed her hand and then let go, standing up to get my jacket and shrug it on while she did the same. She stumbled a little as she stood up and I reached out a hand to steady her.

  “Darren?”

  I was pulling my jacket on while still holding her arm to support her and looked up when she said my name. “Aye?”

  She giggled. “I think I’m a little drunk.”

  I smiled back. “Just a bit,” I agreed. I was feeling the alcohol too, but I was a fair bit bigger than she was, and I’d eaten a lot of the chips. “Do you need anything from your car?”

  She frowned at me as she slightly clumsily pulled on her own jacket. “I mean- we’re going there now, aren’t we?”

  I pulled an apologetic face. “We’ve both drunk too much to drive. I’ll call a taxi.”

  Her face fell before she nodded. “Yeah, you’re right,” she sighed. She thought for a moment. “I think I have everything I need here.” She patted the pockets of her jacket.

  “House keys?” I checked. She fished them out and jangled them, and I smiled.

  The taxi would be five minutes, and we moved slowly towards the front of the emptying bar. It was quieter now than when we’d arrived, as all the youngsters had cleared out to go to the clubs, leaving only a few stragglers still drinking and chatting.

  I looked both ways down the dark street as we stood in the doorway, but I couldn’t see anyone who looked like Will, nobody even near his size.

  Taylor pressed up against me, and I looked down at her in surprise. She was shivering a little, and I lifted an arm, tucking her under it. She looked up at me with a warm, tipsy, smile and I impulsively kissed her on the forehead.

  I pulled back, only for her to press her lips to mine. I was still for a moment, wo
ndering, for several reasons, whether this was a good idea before I relaxed into it, pulling her close.

  A car horn honked nearby, startling both of us. I laughed at myself when I realised that the taxi I’d ordered had pulled up without us noticing, and Taylor laughed quietly too.

  It’d started to drizzle and, glancing once more up and down the street, I walked her over to the car, opening the door for her. She slid inside, and I walked around the other side to climb in beside her.

  She was giving her temporary address to the driver as I clipped in my belt. As the car started up, Taylor’s hand crept across the space between us, her fingers finding mine. She leaned over to put her head on my shoulder, and I released a relaxed breath, squeezing her hand gently. There was something comforting about being close to someone else with no other expectations, and I welcomed the warmth of her.

  Taylor had pretty much nodded off by the time we pulled up outside her house. I nudged her gently, tucking the hair out of her face. She blinked owlishly and looked around, disoriented.

  “We’re at yours,” I told her. “You want me to walk you in?”

  She looked up at me with those big eyes. “You’re not staying over?”

  I went still. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  She looked hurt. “Oh, sorry.” She unclipped her belt, and I reached across to take her hand.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to,” I told her quietly, aware of the driver in the front. “But we’ve both drunk a bit, and you had a scare with that guy. I don’t want-”

  “Just… stay over, then?” she asked tentatively. “It’s only,” She paused, twisting her hands in her lap, “it’s my first night back at my place. I’ve been staying at my friend’s and…” She trailed off.

  “Forget it, nevermind,” she said hurriedly, getting out of the car

  She was nervous, I realised too slowly. The alcohol had made my head too muddy for my liking. “Taylor, hey, wait!” I opened the door to follow her, before pausing to stick my head back in the car. “Sorry about this, mate,” I said to the driver. “Can you just hang on a minute? I’ll tip well.”

 

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