Parcels of Doom (Chapel End Mysteries, #1)

by Lown, Anne

  Jason tried his best to be confident. He chatted cheerily about nothing of consequence—it seemed he knew she needed a distraction, but even his attempts did nothing to allay the fear she felt.

  Bile crept up her throat, and Jenny swallowed and gripped her chest. The burning brought on a cough, bringing more to the surface. She dropped her head and leaned forward, all the while being dragged along.

  I can’t be sick in the street, they might get me.

  No one in the pub had reacted any different to anyone else. Graham had watched, but no one had stood out. He’d been so sorry, saying he felt like he’d failed her, but he hadn’t. Would it have been better for one person to stand out? Maybe. Or would that have distracted them from the real killer if they were just an innocent party? People could appear guilty for many reasons personal to them, and some people were so good an actor, no one would ever know their true selves.

  Jason brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Don’t stop here.”

  He was right. They needed to get inside. Jenny’s head throbbed. Muscles she never knew she had were hurting from the tension.

  She coughed again. “Why can’t it be tomorrow?”

  Jason stroked her face. Did he know what she was saying? That she wished it was over, the killer caught and in custody? Maybe it was too much to ask, impossible even, but right at that moment she was praying like mad.

  She glanced up to find the house had come into view and whimpered when she saw she’d left the downstairs lights on, her bottom lip trembling. It was all she could do to stop her legs buckling under her. Jenny squeezed his arm tighter. Together they walked through the garden to the front door.

  She fumbled in her pocket to find her key. Each time she grabbed it, her fingers lost their grip until she finally scooped it out. Her hand shook when she made a bid for the lock. The key just wouldn’t find its way home, bumping backwards off the door on each try.

  “Here, let me.” Jason took the key and let them both in. The door swung open. He held her from behind, wrestling her over the threshold and into the living room. “I’ll get us some coffee.”

  Jenny stood near the doorway and gazed around. Her feelings of defiance from earlier were long gone, and the place no longer felt like home.

  What am I doing? I don’t own this house.

  She hadn’t been there a whole month yet. The writing on the wall taunted her. She’d had time to try to find the diaries. She could’ve left them on the doorstep for whoever it was that wanted them so badly, but instead she’d wasted that time on things that no longer mattered. Had she really jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire? She wrung her hands over and over. Nothing would ever be all right again.

  Jason carried two mugs of hot, steaming liquid from the kitchen and placed them on her coffee table. By this time, she was hugging herself and rocking slightly back and forth on the balls of her feet.

  “You okay?” Jason slipped his arms around her and hugged her tight.

  Pinned to his chest and unable to break free, Jenny clenched his jacket in her fists. It was the first time since the voodoo doll with her name on had appeared that she’d felt safe. Like nothing could get her because she was being shielded by something stronger. A lone tear trailed a path down her cheek, until it was followed by another and another. She wept uncontrollably, her body trembling.

  They stood there until Jenny was all cried out. She felt a fool for being emotional, but it had to come out or she would’ve cracked. The situation was beyond belief. In the last few days she’d been scared, not wanting to be in the same room as Jason. Now she didn’t want to let him go. He was saving her. Whatever else he’d done, she didn’t care.

  At last she relaxed. Jason led her to sit on the sofa, his arms still wrapped around her. She lay her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. The coffee cooled, abandoned from the beginning. A fatigue so deep swept through her body, and Jenny couldn’t fight the urge to fall asleep.

  She awoke with a start, not knowing how much time had passed. A noise, possibly a crack, roused her. Disorientated from her slumber, Jenny failed to react to the impending danger. She blinked at the overhead light, using her hand to shield her eyes. The air was chill, and her arms clung to her torso as she thrust her hands between her knees. Lucky for her, Jason didn’t have such an impediment.

  He leapt from the sofa, knocking her sideways. “You stay there.” He crept into the kitchen. She could hear the scrape of the metal knife being taken from the worktop. It must be the same one she’d presented him with when he’d arrived at the back door earlier on. He came back into the hallway, pressed his finger to his lips, then pointed to the front of the house.

  Jenny didn’t dare move. Jason tiptoed towards the front door, and her breath caught in her throat. Her gaze darted from the doorway to the window and back again. She was frozen with fear and anticipation. His bravery was not lost on her. She whimpered, fearing the worst.

  What if I’d been alone?

  Tears sprang again. She bit her bottom lip to steady her nerves. What would she have done if he hadn’t been there? Jenny shook her head to remove an image from her mind. It didn’t bear thinking about. The thought was terrifying beyond belief, and she shuddered in its wake. She got to her feet and followed Jason to the hallway, clutching the doorframe for support.

  Jason’s free hand slowly lifted to the height of the latch. His fingers, outstretched, slipped onto the hard metal. Counting to three to ready himself, he turned it before yanking open the front door to confront what lay in wait on the other side. As the door opened at speed, he thrust forward the knife and caught it on the clothing of the apparent intruder, only just missing contact with the flesh.

  A scream erupted from outside the house. It was male.

  In the unexpected darkness from the extinguished street lighting, Jenny shot to the living room window in a bid to see who it was. Bodies moved too fast, one escaping and another chasing, that all was a shadowy blur. Thinking quickly now, she rushed to the front door and slammed it shut. The door vibrated on its hinges. She raced back to the sofa and picked up her phone. It’d fallen from her pocket and lay on the cushion. She held it tight in her hand while she curled up into a ball. Time seemed to move at a fraction of its normal speed. The waiting for Jason to return was killing her; she hoped he’d catch whoever it was and get back to the house.

  Her phone rang, its plastic casing vibrating in her hand. It was Jason—it was his name on the caller ID. She breathed a sigh of relief. Now she was grateful he’d taken her number and she’d identified him in the contact list. At that time, it had been to avoid his call, but it’d been a fortuitous move. She accepted the call with a swipe of her finger on the display.

  “It’s me,” he said. “I can’t find him, he’s managed to escape.”

  “What does that mean?” Jenny’s muscles shook at the thought of the killer returning.

  “Only that they’ve gone. I’ll look around to make sure they aren’t coming back, but you stay put and don’t answer the door to anyone other than me. Got it?”

  “Got it,” she said.

  The call ended, and Jenny went back to hugging herself. She buried her face in her knees, the rough jeans material rubbing against her forehead. It was a moment before she knew her mistake. She’d need to see an attacker coming. She forced herself to lift her head and raise her gaze. Jenny rocked again, it was all she could do.

  Waiting for Jason to return felt like an age was passing. The slightest noise, real or imaginary, had her jumping.

  Did I hear something?

  She tapped her fingers on her knee; the growing pain from banging the same spot was comforting, much like pulling on her hair. It was then something caught her eye in the garden. Jenny had turned off the living room light and closed the door. She’d wanted to see if anyone was hovering by the house. It seemed they were. She tried to call Jason back, but it went straight to voicemail.

  “Is that you?” Her voice was almost a whisper.
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br />   Whoever was outside couldn’t have heard her, but by now she was too terrified to move.

  “Jason, is that you in the garden?”

  There was no reply. He didn’t pick up his voicemail and return her call. She sent a text. Still nothing. A gentle tap came from the already damaged glass in the hallway. She breathed another sigh, her relief palpable. Jenny slid off the sofa and opened the living room door, the hallway light now illuminating her way. She hesitated with her fingers on the front door latch.

  Please be you.

  She pulled it open, but there was nobody there. Gazing off into the dark, she strained her eyes to see what was happening down by the road. The bushes were moving, but she couldn’t identify who or what it was.

  “Jason, is that you?”

  No one answered, but the rustling went on. She leaned farther and farther out of the front door, squinting in the hope her vision would align with the darkness, but it didn’t. The light from the hallway made her very visible to all around but hindered her eyes so she couldn’t see who was staring back.

  Jenny called again, deciding she’d close and lock the door if no one answered. “Who’s there?”

  “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. My mum’s cat got lost. Didn’t come home for its dinner, and she worries about it.”

  Jenny squinted harder, her eyes hurting from the effort. She couldn’t make out the form of the person, but the voice sounded familiar. “Mar... Martin, is that you?”

  “Yes. Sorry, Jenny, she gets so worked up if it isn’t home. It’s got a vet appointment in the morning. Have you seen it?”

  “I didn’t know you had a cat. What type is it?”

  “Well, it’s not mine. Here, do you mind if I use your toilet. Had too much to drink at the pub tonight, and with the cold air, that beer goes straight through me. Hope you don’t mind. I don’t like to use the bush and can’t go back home until I find the damn thing.”

  “Yes, sure,” Jenny said. She opened the door wider so Martin could enter. He had an affable look on his face.

  “This really is kind of you, I’ll be quick.” He took the stairs two at a time and entered the bathroom.

  Jenny closed the door and walked into the living room. She sat on the sofa and waited, checking her phone. There was still no reply to her messages.

  Where the hell is he?

  After one last try, she gave up and placed the phone on the coffee table next to the cups of coffee they never got to drink. She could smell the cold liquid; it didn’t have the same appealing aroma as when freshly made. Jenny drummed her fingers again on her knee, thinking of all the reasons Jason could have for not phoning back.

  A floorboard above her creaked. It was overhead in her bedroom. How could she have forgotten there was someone else in the house? Jenny glanced up at the ceiling, and she didn’t dare breathe. Martin had been up there longer than she’d expected, and he wasn’t in the bathroom.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Jenny tiptoed to the bottom of the stairs and listened. She found it hard to believe he wasn’t still in the bathroom, that he’d be anywhere else. She strained her hearing for any little sound. Silence was the only response, and that was unsettling.

  Her gaze shifted back to the coffee table where her phone lay. She struggled to swallow, her dry tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. There was no point calling Jason, he wasn’t going to answer. She was on her own. She returned her attention to the man upstairs and felt for the bannister. Jenny was careful where she placed her feet, missing out the creaking parts of each step. She didn’t want to be heard if she was going to discover where in the upper floor he was.

  The bathroom door stood open. No one was inside. Jenny took a deep breath; her nerves could have rivalled a knife’s edge. She peeked into the small bedroom. That, too, was empty except for the boxes she’d left in there on the first day of moving in. Her worst fears were coming true—there was someone in her home who was up to no good. Indecision gripped her. Part of her wanted to run down the stairs, out the front door, and flee into the night. It was the right thing to do that, but for some reason her feet wouldn’t move in that direction. They were inching toward her bedroom instead.

  Trembling now, Jenny crept nearer the doorway. She could see through the crack where the hinges attached to the architrave. Her hand leapt to her mouth. Martin was in there going through her things. A thought struck her: he was looking for something and it could only be the diaries. A cold sweat formed on her skin; the clamminess made her feel sick. Her heart thudded. She was about to sneak away when the defiance re-emerged.

  How dare he be in my room. How dare he make me feel afraid in my own home.

  With a confidence she didn’t feel on the inside, Jenny strode into her bedroom. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Martin whirled around to face her. His stare was as hard as flint. “Where are they?”

  Jenny recoiled, her bravado disappearing in a flash. He might just have easily slapped her for the reaction she gave. She cowered back the way she’d come.

  “Where are they?”

  She flinched at the sudden loudness of his voice. He didn’t seem to care who else heard him. If her neighbours had been asleep, they’d be awake now

  Jenny tried to stand her ground. “This is my home. How dare you come in here and riffle through my things. Get out now.”

  Martin’s upper lip curled into a sneer, and he strode a few steps towards her. “Give me them.”

  She leapt backwards, struggling to find purchase on the woodchip-papered walls. Her feet were scrambling beneath her, and she took in a sharp breath, her eyes bulging. Jenny’s back slammed into the wall, searching for the doorframe behind her. Her chest pounded, and the whooshing in her ears drowned out anything else he said.

  I’m gonna faint. No, not here.

  Her fingers clunked against the wooden frame. She steadied herself in time to see he was fast approaching, covering the floor space in less than seconds. Jenny span around where she stood and lunged to get out of the bedroom, almost throwing herself down the stairs. She lost her footing near the bottom and landed with a crash in the hallway. Her knees smashed into the hard floor beneath the carpet, the impact juddering up her thigh bones into her hips and lower back. It stole her breath for a moment, one she didn’t have to lose. Clambering to her feet, she lost her balance and fell head-first onto the front door. She clawed her way up it and grabbed at the latch.

  A noise like thunder resounded behind her. Martin was in pursuit. He landed with a thud on the carpet, jumping down the last few stairs.

  Jenny yanked open the door and ran into the garden towards the gate. She had no idea where she was going, she just knew she needed to run. Now she was out into the street, the darkness making it impossible to know what was in her way. The edge of a car bumper caught her leg, pain shooting into her shin. She couldn’t allow it to slow her down. She hobbled into the middle of the road, not wanting to clash with a vehicle.

  He called out in the darkness, “Where are you?”

  For a moment Jenny thought she’d get away and make it to somewhere safe. That was until her foot caught the side of a cat meandering across the road. The animal screamed from the impact and scurried off under a car. He now knew her position. His feet slapped on the tarmac a distance behind her. The cold night air pained her lungs, and sharp, stabbing sensations made it hard to breathe deep and hampered her progress. He gave another shout, but she was no longer listening.

  I need to hide.

  Jenny sobbed, her cheeks awash with tears. She wished she’d run when she’d had the chance. Got away and banged on a neighbour’s door. Why hadn’t she done that? Or called the police and reported his presence in her house? She was stupid, stupid, and now she was going to die. The voodoo doll said so.

  She slipped between two parked cars, steadying herself on the facing bonnets. She hadn’t thought he’d second-guess her move and pre-empt where she was going. A hand caught h
old of her jumper, the fabric stretching where he pulled. Martin held on tight, not allowing her to escape. Jenny tried to reach a window, her only thought to bang on the glass and arouse whoever was inside. Another hand grabbed at her waist, trying to slide in front and hook her with his forearm. She lunged forward, barely touching the wall of the house she was aiming for.

  Jenny found her voice, and she inhaled then screamed. The shrill sound echoed in the silent streets. Lights responded in bedroom windows, and one or two curtains twitched, but nothing else happened. Panic rose; she had to do something. She lashed out behind her, twisting her body ferociously. Although her arm didn’t make contact, the corkscrew movement was enough to get herself free. She spun until she crashed into the wall she’d been trying to reach. Once free, she ran with her arms pumping at her sides.

  At the end of the street, the road was crossed by another, and a field lay beyond that. Jenny knew how to get through the hedge, she’d done it a few times on her morning runs.

  Thank god I can run.

  She found the opening with the stile, clambered over it, and ran along the bridleway towards the woods. Jenny’s legs ached. Lactic acid burned in her muscles. She would’ve stopped to rub them, help it release back into her system, but she didn’t have time. Limbs now heavy, she was slowing down, her body no longer cooperating.

  Behind her, heavy breathing grew louder. Martin was struggling, too, but he had longer legs and was gaining on her.

  Jenny panicked. Not daring to turn around, she didn’t know how close he’d got until he made a lunge for her. Smashing into her lower back, his body weight slapped her onto the cold, hard ground and knocked the air from her lungs. She tried to protect her head, holding her chin high and keeping it from bouncing off the mud. He flipped her over and used his bodyweight to pin her in place. Both his hands were around her neck, squeezing just enough to get information out of her before she died.

  “Where are they?”