Parcels of Doom (Chapel End Mysteries, #1)

by Lown, Anne

  A throwaway comment left Jenny’s lips, “Who the hell made those?”

  Jason shrugged. “Homemade, I think.”

  They ventured farther into the room, deciding where to sit.

  Leaning over her, Jason said, “I’ll get us a menu. What would you like to drink?”

  “White wine, please.”

  He sauntered to the bar. Nervous excitement replaced her earlier embarrassment—the evening held promise. Even the loneliness she’d felt in the shop had lifted; his presence was a comfort to her. She knew she’d scold herself for not spending the evening alone, her bid for independence disrupted so easily, but being in his company trumped boring TV, and that could wait for another day.

  The men at the bar nodded to Jason like they knew him. No words were said, but there was a familiarity about the exchange. In among the faces was Martin, a colleague from work, standing alongside an older man she took to be his father. He’d never told her he lived in the village, but then he wasn’t one of her close friends.

  Jenny gazed around the room. Two women sat chatting at a nearby table, or rather one talked while the other glared at Jason. She was a similar age to him and appeared to be ignoring her companion’s conversation. As he walked back to the table, drinks and menus in hand, the woman’s attention transferred from him to Jenny. She could have sworn there was simmering hate in that glance, the woman’s clench jaw giving her a corded neck.

  Jenny leaned close to Jason and asked, “Who’s that woman staring at us?”

  He turned with disinterest to see who she was talking about. “No idea.”

  “Well, she can’t stop looking at you.”

  At that, he bent his head and whispered, “And I can’t stop staring at you.” He winked, pulling away and lifting his glass to take a long, slow drink.

  Butterflies fluttered in her empty stomach, competing with another blush rosying her cheeks.

  They chose their meals and tucked in when they arrived. Neither spoke while they savoured the tomato and beef sauce lashed over penne pasta. The aroma drew the gaze of the other drinkers and dulled the smell of the ever-present nicotine. Jenny bit into the garlic bread, melted butter coating her fingers. They fought over the last slice, Jason refusing to be a gentleman and let Jenny have it. They agreed to share it half and half, but she received a tiny morsel so gave him a playful kick under the table. He feigned shock, and they both laughed until the meal came to an end.

  With food now out of the way, they settled in with another drink to enjoy their evening. The conversation turned to Jason and what had brought him back to Chapel End after so many years of living elsewhere.

  “Simple really, my uncle died.”

  Jenny listened hoping he’d expand, but he wasn’t forthcoming. “Wouldn’t you have returned if he hadn’t?”

  Scratching the side of his face with his thumb, Jason thought for a moment. “No, probably not.”

  “Why did you stay away? After all, you have family here, or did have?”

  “It’s a long story. I left over twenty years ago and I didn’t come back. A girl I knew died, so I couldn’t face being here.”

  Jenny wanted to know more. He was turning out to be an interesting man, and she felt good in his company. As he slowly opened up, the woman who’d been staring strode over to their table, determination etched into her face.

  “Hi, don’t mean to interrupt, but it’s Jason, isn’t it?” The woman’s voice cracked on the last two words.

  He looked up. The tall woman with short brown hair loomed over him. She stood closer than she needed to, her fingers wrapped around her refreshed drink. She didn’t wait for him to answer, thrusting out a hand glistening with condensation, saying, “I’m Emma. I heard you’d come back to the village and wanted to welcome you.”

  Jason ignored the hand. “Do I know you?”

  It was a strange thing for him to say and cutting for the recipient who was nervous about introducing themselves. Jenny cringed at the exchange faltering from Jason’s noncompliance. He turned back to her and carried on where he’d left off.

  Emma stood in place, waiting to be acknowledged. It didn’t happen. When he carried on ignoring her, she slunk back to her table.

  “That was a bit harsh,” Jenny whispered, hoping Emma couldn’t hear her.

  Equally quiet, he said, “It’s more than she deserves. I’ll just ignore her next time.”

  The interruption seemed to kill the evening, and they decided to go. Outside, Jenny inhaled the cold air. She gazed at the open sky. A couple of stars twinkled through the orange haze from the streetlights. It would be a wonderful view when they were turned off later that night, something the council had been doing for a while. She could stand in the garden and enjoy the constellations without hindrance.

  Jason noticed her interest. “I like them, too.”

  They both smiled, and the moment was again sealed between them.

  “Want to do this again sometime?” he asked.

  Jenny’s smile spread wider. The evening hadn’t been ruined after all. “Just the two of us, no more interruptions.”

  “That’s a deal.”

  Jason leaned in close, his lips grazing gently against hers. The kiss was soft and lingering, and Jenny savoured every moment of it. A tingle ran through her, and she enjoyed the taste from their evening together, his warm breath a welcome relief from the night’s chill. Eventually, they parted. Jenny struggled to tear herself away, fixing her gaze on his. His fingers slid around her hand, and he gave it a gentle squeeze before he sauntered into the night.

  She wrapped her jacket around her. She turned to go, surveying the empty street when her attention alighted upon a person at the pub window. Emma had been watching, her face a picture of envy, or so Jenny thought. She walked away, removing the woman from her mind and replaying the evening. It kept her warm all the way home.

  Chapter Four

  The days crept by. Jenny couldn’t forget the kiss they’d shared outside the pub. The memory of his warm, soft lips pressed against hers flooded her mind. Nothing else seemed important. Marching through the streets of Chapel End were now a priority, her attention darting to every house and passing stranger, in the hope it’d be him.

  Questions plagued her, fighting with the heady emotions of infatuation. She didn’t know what he did with himself, whether he had a job or even another woman.

  Damn it, so much for being independent.

  She wiped her palms on her trousers; the sweat was becoming a nuisance. The fluttering in her stomach also. She didn’t know when to eat. Hunger disappeared whenever she saw food.

  The days were still chilly, and she shivered whenever she stood still too long. Clouds blocked out the sun, darkening the farther they receded into the distance. She strode faster, not wanting to be cold and wet.

  Jenny was learning Adam’s half of the walk. Keeping up with him was a never-ending battle; consequently, her morning runs suffered. Her thighs burned, lactic acid an ever-present problem. Then there was her neck—the strain from carrying the mailbags was eating into her shoulders. She knew she’d get used to it, but at that moment, Jenny wanted to collapse.

  The village shops came into view, and she vowed to buy herself a chocolate bar, but not until she’d dropped the post at the charity shop.

  She pushed the door open, a bell ringing above her head. The woman standing behind the counter looked up, greeting her with a smile. She’d been sticking prices on books but stopped upon hearing the sound. Jenny walked over, searching her mailbag for a parcel to give with the letters.

  “Hi.” Jenny smiled, too, and held out the post.

  “I don’t know you. Are you new?” The woman, of Filipino descent, seemed eager to talk.

  So far, Jenny hadn’t met many of the villagers. It couldn’t hurt to be friendly. “Yes. I’m covering the usual postman while he’s off sick. My name’s Jenny, nice to meet you.”

  “I’m Carmie. Do you live in the village?”

  The
questions came thick and fast. Carmie enquired about every aspect of Jenny’s life. The woman was so warm and friendly that Jenny couldn’t help herself from answering. It was a relief to feel a connection with another person who wasn’t a prospective boyfriend, and she revelled in it.

  Something moved at the far end of the shop. Jenny’s scalp prickled, and she flicked her gaze to the office where its door stood open. A familiar face stared back, the freckles on her nose stark in the daylight. It was the woman from the pub. Jenny adjusted her mailbag, pulling it closer to herself.

  Clearing her throat, she said, “Hello again. Emma, isn’t it?”

  Carmie glanced from one to the other. “You two know each other?”

  “Yes, we’ve met,” Emma replied, her words clipped.

  Jenny shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I brought the post.”

  Emma strode towards her to receive it, snatching it from her hand. Now Jenny wanted to go. She turned back to Carmie, saying her goodbyes until Emma dropped all she’d given her on the floor. She’d been opening the parcel when her arms jerked, and she’d flinched backwards. The wrapping was completely off, and a book had fallen with a slap on contact.

  Carmie left the counter and picked it up. Her black eyes bulged as she opened the book and flipped through the first few pages. “What’s this?” Her free hand flew to her mouth, stifling a gasp.

  Emma grabbed the book from Carmie and searched for what she’d seen. It was a diary with the owner’s name written on the inside cover. “I don’t believe it!”

  Jenny stepped closer. “What? What is it?”

  Emma held it out for her to see and said, “It belonged to Annalise.”

  “Who’s Annalise?” None of this was making any sense.

  Both women were struck dumb by the arrival of the book.

  Carmie recovered first. “A girl who died,” she stuttered. “She was that Jason’s friend. It’s why he left the village.”

  Jason had already told her that much. She’d wanted to know more, but it hadn’t seemed the time to press him. The women’s reaction to the diary was odd. She looked from one to the other, waiting for them to say something else. Jason had been vague about why he’d left, like it was too boring to go into, but clearly, that wasn’t the case.

  Jenny was eager to know more. Getting involved with men with dark secrets was her speciality. If he was hiding something awful, it’d be better to walk away now. “How did she die?”

  “She drowned, and Jason had something to do with it.” Carmie had lowered her voice. “Police said it was suicide, but she was covered in bruises. No one was arrested. I bet it was murder.”

  Emma had been reading through the diary while Carmie talked. “I think you’re right. It says here Jason physically hurt her when they argued. And here it says someone was bothering her, following her around and saying things to her.”

  “See,” said Carmie, clearly pleased with her deductive abilities. “I always said he did it.” She folded her arms and nodded her head of long black hair for good measure.

  A thought struck Jenny, and she rushed to excuse herself. “Sorry, ladies, I have to go. My colleague will be waiting for me.”

  Once outside, she ran the conversation through her head. If it wasn’t bad enough getting involved with men like Scott with his drugs, drinking, and fighting, now she’d moved up a notch. Jason could be a possible killer or abuser at best. She needed to ask him about it for her own sanity and safety. If he was really that bad, she’d have to break it off immediately. Problem was, she didn’t know when she’d see him next, but one thing was certain, it would happen in a public place or it wouldn’t happen at all.

  Chapter Five

  Jason stood outside the charity shop. He lingered his gaze on the Friday morning shoppers scouring the racks for a bargain to wear over the weekend. It was cheaper to get an outfit here than waste money in the local town, especially on something that might only get worn once. He furrowed his brow as he rubbed his chin with his thumb.

  Maybe I should come back.

  He’d gone to Bishop to sort out his council tax bill. Ron Hubbard strode toward him in the town centre, a grin plastered across his face. Jason hadn’t got on with Ron or his wife Carmie, but then his youth had been troubled, and Carmie liked to spout her witchcraft nonsense. Jason didn’t believe in any of it, but Ron swore by what his wife said and wouldn’t hear anything different, not even when presented with facts.

  “I thought it was you,” Ron said, stretching out his hand. “Carmie said you were back, but I thought she was just seeing things.”

  Taking the offered hand, although reluctantly, he shook. “Thanks, Ron. Feels a bit weird, though, after all these years.”

  “Yeah, sorry about your uncle. Must have been a shock. Still, good to see you again.”

  Jason disengaged from Ron’s strong grip and tried to make that the end of the conversation. “Well, gotta go. Things to do. See you around.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Ron moved to walk away but stopped mid-pace. “You might want to know, a diary turned up at the charity shop. Carmie says it belonged to Annalise. Bit of a shock it was, after all these years. She thinks it’s a dark omen, something bad is about to happen. Not a good sign anyway.”

  Jason stood stock still. “What? Annalise’s diary? How did that happen?”

  “Carmie said it arrived in the post. That girl you were with brought it. No one has a clue why it was sent to the charity shop, but the whole village is talking about it. Mentions you in there, and it ain’t pretty.”

  It took Jason a moment to twig that Ron had stopped talking. All the sounds around him had muted away.

  How the hell did someone have the diary, and why send it to the charity shop?

  He rubbed his face with both hands, then inhaled a deep breath. He looked around, trying to get his bearings. The council tax bill would have to wait. “I gotta go.”

  Jason ran to the taxi rank in the supermarket car park, all the tasks for the afternoon now postponed while he tried to understand what had just happened. The journey back to Chapel End passed in a haze. It was a good thing he didn’t drive, or he’d have caused an accident on the winding lanes. The driver dropped him outside the village shops, giving him no time to rethink his decision.

  Now he was here, he swung open the door, the bell sounding his arrival. Everyone looked in his direction, giving him the weird feeling he’d been expected. Carmie stood behind the counter, so he strode over to her.

  “Where’s the diary?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “What, no ‘Hello, Carmie, long time no see?’”

  “Where’s the diary? Give it to me now, or I’ll tear this place apart searching for it.”

  She folded her arms and pursed her lips. “No need for that.” After a moment, she reached down and pressed a bell beneath the counter. “It’s bad news,” she said, “someone’s going to get hurt.”

  Jason flicked his attention to the office door at the back of the shop.

  Emma appeared, a bright smile lighting up her face. She swanned towards him. “Hi, Jason, lovely to see you again.”

  “Where’s the diary?”

  Emma stopped mid-step. “What, no greeting? I’d have thought you would’ve missed me after all these years.”

  “Cut the crap and give it to me.”

  The smirk disappeared from Emma’s face. She turned and walked back to the office. Jason followed and closed the door behind him. It was a small room compared to the front of the shop, stacked high with an assortment of cast-off possessions. Emma opened a filing cabinet drawer over in the far corner and took something out. It was the diary.

  Jason stared. He’d not seen one of Annalise’s diaries for over two decades. It brought back a flood of memories, and his breath caught in his throat. He stretched out his arm to take it, but Emma flinched backwards, clutching it to her chest. Her fingers gripped its outer edge, her eyes wary as she watched him for any signs of movement. Jason knew she’d
scream if he lunged at her, so he stayed where he was.

  “Give it to me.”

  The smirk returned. “Only if you drop that woman and see me instead.”

  So, she was still the same Emma. Rejecting her in the pub the other night might’ve seemed cruel, but she was cold and calculating, not someone he wanted to be with. Jason dropped his arm to his side. “Not a chance.”

  “Then you don’t get the diary.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “At least tell me what’s in it.” His calm was ebbing away. It’d been so long since he’d seen anything of Annalise’s that he couldn’t bear the torment. If only he could get a look inside the book he’d know what she’d written about.

  Emma’s body relaxed, the smirk still present. “What, you worried there might be things about you in it? Been a bad boy, had you? Well, yes, you are. It says you hurt her, tried to strangle her, even. Followed her about and frightened her.”

  Jason shook his head. “I don’t believe you. We loved each other.”

  “Not what it says in here. Says she’s scared of you and all your threats. Some love story that was.”

  Jason’s anger boiled over, the calm no longer anywhere to be seen. His gritted teeth and no doubt the skin over his strained neck muscles matched the whiteness of his clenched fists. “Give it to me now, or I’ll beat it from you.”

  Emma jolted, her back clashing with the edge of the filing cabinet. She didn’t seem so brave now, even with Carmie and the customers in the next room.

  Jason stepped closer. It would be so easy to lunge at her and rip the book from her fingers, but he didn’t. The police would be called, and he’d have to explain himself. Old feelings of frustration rose inside him. He hadn’t felt this helpless and out of control since Annalise had died. It wasn’t something he ever wanted to feel again. He lowered his chin, shaking his head. All the effort to move on with his life had been wiped away. He wished Ron had never told him about the diary.