Dark Peak

by Adam J. Wright

  “Did you listen?”

  “No, did you?”

  “Nope.”

  “That’s settled, then.” His earlier doubts were dispelled. It felt good to be back on the case, especially with Elly. She had a confidence that made him believe anything was possible, even finding Sarah.

  He looked over towards the car park and was surprised to see Tilly walking over to him. She was waving.

  “Elly, my cousin’s here. I’ll get a lift back with her.”

  “Okay, no problem. Then come to the cottage and we’ll discuss where we are and what to do next.”

  “See you later,” he said and ended the call.

  Tilly reached him and said, “They let you out, that’s great. I was coming to see how you were before I go to work. I can’t believe they discharged you so quickly.”

  Mitch shrugged it off and gave her the same line he’d given the doctor. “I feel fine.”

  She gestured to the car park. “Let’s go, then. Once you get back to Edge House, you can relax. I’ll do some shopping for you after work. I noticed the other day that your kitchen cupboards are empty.”

  “There’s no need to do that,” he said, following her to the car park.

  “Of course there is. You need to rest. Here, give me that bag.” She reached out for the sports bag.

  Mitch shook his head. “It’s okay, I’ve got it.” Tilly’s level of care was escalating from endearing to stifling.

  Her car was a black Hyundai. She opened the rear door and Mitch slid the sports bag off his shoulder and onto the back seat.

  Then he gingerly got in the front passenger side, trying to hide the pain he felt as he settled into the seat. If Tilly saw him wince, she’d probably bundle him into a wheelchair and wheel him back to the ward.

  She got in behind the wheel and started the engine. Then she paused, seemed to come to some sort of decision, and said, “Mitch, I’m sorry. I’m only trying to help but sometimes I go too far. I know I’m doing it but I can’t seem to help it. I apologise.”

  “No problem,” he said. “I’m just not used to someone running around after me.”

  “No, it isn’t that. It’s me. I’m always the same if anyone is sick or injured. I go too far trying to help them and I end up pushing them away. That’s why Faith’s father and I aren’t together anymore, you know. He got pneumonia the first Christmas after Faith was born and I tried so hard to care for him but I just stifled him. It was so bad that when he was well enough, he moved out.”

  She put the car in gear and headed for the exit. “I think I inherited it from my mother. When we were young, if we got a cold or even a sniffle, she’d put us to bed immediately and make chicken soup from scratch. I remember when I had scarlet fever, she didn’t leave my bedside for a whole week.”

  Tilly looked wistful for a moment. “Those were the days when she still cared for me at all.” She stopped at the exit barrier and inserted her ticket into the machine. The barrier lifted and Tilly drove out of the car park.

  “You said your mum and dad weren’t too keen on girls,” Mitch said.

  “Yeah, that’s right,” she said. “At least that’s what I told myself when they started ignoring me. But that doesn’t really make sense considering the volunteer work my mum does at the Women’s Centre.”

  “Women’s Centre?” Mitch asked.

  “Oh, that’s right, you don’t know about ‘Saint Alice.’ For a woman who mostly ignores her own daughter, my mum more than makes up for it working with victims of domestic violence. There’s a shelter in Matlock she visits two or three days a week. She’s on the board of directors.”

  She shrugged. “She can do what she wants, of course, and it’s a good thing for her to be involved in, but she certainly never heard the saying that charity begins at home. At least not when it comes to me. After I got to nine or ten years old, she never spent any time with me, was never interested in my schoolwork, friends, or anything like that.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Mitch said.

  “It is what it is,” Tilly said. “Jack would tell you a totally different story, of course. He’s the apple of her eye.” She pulled out of the hospital grounds and onto the main road, joining the heavy traffic heading southeast out of Manchester.

  “I saw them yesterday, you know,” she said. “In the hospital. Dad spoke to me but Mum and Jack barely said two words.”

  “Your dad came to see me,” Mitch said.

  Her face brightened slightly. “Oh, that’s nice.”

  Remembering Silas’ warning to stop digging into the past and deciding not to mention it, Mitch simply said, “Yeah, real nice.” Then he added, “I noticed Jack was limping.”

  “I noticed that too. He’s always injuring himself doing some crazy stunt or other. He’s a thrill-seeker, an adrenaline junkie. He broke his leg hang-gliding once. Dad went ballistic, told him he could have ended up in a wheelchair like him, or worse.”

  “I don’t suppose Jack listened to him,” Mitch said.

  “Yes, he did. Jack does everything Dad tells him to. He dotes on our father. He never went hang-gliding again after that. It’d be easy to think he gave it up because he broke his leg doing it, but that isn’t the case. He stopped because Dad told him to.”

  Mitch’s interest was piqued. This was adding fuel to his theory that Jack was responsible for the more recent killings. “So he’d do anything Silas told him to do?”

  She thought about it for a few seconds and then said, “It wasn’t always like that. Up until eighteen years ago, Jack seemed to be ashamed of our father. I don’t think he liked that he was in a wheelchair and couldn’t do any of the stuff Jack liked doing.

  “But then Jack’s attitude to Dad totally changed. Just like that. I’d like to say he grew up but the words ‘grown-up’ and ‘Jack Walker’ don’t really belong in the same sentence. But, he’s Dad’s primary caregiver now and does everything for him.”

  Everything? Mitch wondered. Even murder?

  29

  Drive

  Jen sat in the dining room of Windrider Cottage, looking through the window at her black Nissan X-Trail parked next to Elly’s Mini.

  She wasn’t looking forward to getting into her car and driving home. She wished someone could just invent teleportation already so she didn’t have to face the prospect of a couple of hours on the busy motorway.

  She wanted to be at home, of course, and was looking forward to seeing Wendy and William, and even Trevor, but the journey itself worried her.

  For one thing, she would be alone in the car and she hated being alone, it made her nervous. The drive here had been a nail-biting, nerve-wracking test of endurance. She liked to surround herself with other people because she wasn’t really fond of her own company. She didn’t know how anyone could live on their own and not go crazy from the lack of human interaction.

  Elly came into the room, putting her phone into her jeans pocket. “That was my friend Mitch,” she said. “He’s going to come round later.”

  “Is he feeling better?”

  “Well, they discharged him so he must be all right.” Elly turned to Jen’s weekend case, which was sitting by the front door. “Right, are you ready? If you go now, you can beat the lunchtime rush.”

  Jen nodded and got up. “It was good to see you, Elly. When you get back to Birmingham, you must come and visit. Trevor and the kids would love to see you. I could invite Mum and Dad as well. We’ll have a party.”

  “In celebration of what?” Elly asked.

  Jen resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her sister. Did they need an excuse to have a party? That was just like Elly, always questioning everything. “In celebration of your new book,” she said. “It’s sure to be a bestseller now. You discovered one of the victims yourself. Not many authors can say that.”

  Elly offered her a smile that seemed to hold no joy. Jen wasn’t surprised at her sister’s dour outlook. Paul had left her and she faced a life alone until she found someone
else. It couldn’t be easy to have that prospect looming in front of you.

  And finding the grave at the stone circle had upset Elly a lot. Since crying in the car, she’d become distant. Jen had gotten out of bed last night to get a drink of water and had heard Elly crying in her bedroom. Jen wasn’t sure if it was because of the grave or because of the Paul situation. A bit of both, she supposed.

  She knew that, as a sister, she was supposed to offer support in some way but she didn’t know what to do. She and Elly weren’t close, so Jen wasn’t sure if an attempt to console her sister would be rejected and push her and Elly even further apart.

  “Will you be okay?” Jen asked. The question was vague enough that Elly could confide in her if she wanted but wouldn’t see it as prying if she didn’t.

  “Fine,” Elly said.

  “All right, I’ll be going then.” Jen leaned in to give her sister a hug. “You take care and don’t get yourself into any trouble.”

  “I won’t.” Elly returned the hug.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to tell Mum and Dad,” Elly said, breaking the hug and going to the hallway to get her case. “Now that you’ve been on the news—at a murder scene, no less—they’ll be worse than ever.”

  Elly smiled and this time Jen detected genuine humour in it. “Don’t forget that you were on the news too. At a murder scene, no less.”

  Jen pursed her lips. That was true, of course. She wasn’t sure how she was going to explain that to her parents. The last thing her mum had said before Jen left for Derbyshire was, “Make sure you keep Elly out of trouble while you’re there.”

  She’d just have to find a way to smooth it over when she talked to Mum later, put a spin on it somehow. She had plenty of time to think of something to say during the drive home.

  She picked up her case and opened the front door. It was a grey day and there was a sense of impending rain in the air. Jen supposed this was what most days were like here. Maybe the weather would improve when she got closer to home.

  She went out to the car with Elly following close behind. Jen opened the boot and slid the case inside, then remembered something. “Oh, my umbrella. It’s by the back door.”

  “I’ll get it,” Elly said, going back inside the cottage.

  Standing alone by the cars, Jen wondered if the sense of impending rain she’d felt a minute ago had actually been a sense of impending doom. It was so quiet out here in the middle of nowhere and Elly was vulnerable in the isolated cottage on her own.

  Elly came back out and handed the Hello Kitty umbrella to her.

  “Thanks,” Jen said, putting it into the boot next to her weekend case. “Wendy would have killed me if I’d left that here. It’s her pride and joy.”

  “Good job you remembered it, then.” Elly gave her another brief hug. “Be careful driving home. Text me when you get there safely.”

  “I will,” Jen said, climbing into the car. “And you be careful too. You’re in the middle of nowhere here. I’d prefer it if you were staying in a town, close to other people.”

  “I’m fine,” Elly said.

  Jen closed the door, gave Elly a brief wave through the window, and started the engine. The X-Trail’s GPS was telling her she’d arrived at her destination. She pressed the button that told it she wanted to go home and while it was calculating the route, she reversed onto the main road. The GPS told her to go straight on and, after waving to Elly again, Jen followed its instruction.

  The road took her south, although—like most of the roads around here—it did so via an indirect route, snaking through the countryside with sharp bends and very few straight stretches.

  This meant Jen had to watch her speed because she didn’t want to go flying around a bend and crash into the back of a tractor that might be dawdling along the road unseen in front of her.

  The only other vehicle she could see was a blue Land Rover that appeared every now and then in her rear-view mirror. It was far enough behind her that she only saw it when she was on one of the few straight stretches of road. Every time she hit a bend, the Land Rover disappeared again, hidden from view by the bushes and trees that bordered the road.

  She felt the same sense of impending doom she’d felt at the cottage and realized how isolated she was on this road. What if her car broke down? What if she hit one of the bends too fast and went careening off the road and into the trees?

  She reduced her speed slightly and put the radio on. She kept the radio tuned to BBC 4 because it was a spoken-word station and hearing other’s people’s voices while she drove comforted her. Woman’s Hour was on and a discussion about eating disorders was well under way.

  Jen half-listened to the presenters and their guests while she concentrated on navigating the tight bends the road threw at her. She wasn’t really bothered about what was being discussed, she just liked to hear other people’s voices in the car. It eased her fear of being alone. Eased it, but didn’t dispel it.

  Because she’d slowed her speed, the Land Rover gradually got closer. Jen could see the driver, a dark-haired man, in the rear-view mirror. She wondered if she should pull over and let him get past her. He was probably a local who knew this road like the back of his hand and was probably annoyed at sitting behind Jen’s SUV as she slowed to a snail’s pace at each bend.

  He flashed his headlights at her twice. Jen groaned. So he was annoyed after all and wanted to overtake her. She checked the side of the road ahead. There was nowhere to pull over. This part of the road was narrow and was bordered with thick bushes. If she pulled over and scratched the side of the car, Trevor would be furious.

  He flashed again.

  Jen looked at him in the rear-view mirror and shrugged, a gesture that was supposed to let him know that she wanted to let him past but couldn’t at the moment.

  The Land Rover’s headlights flashed again, three times in quick succession.

  Jen increased her speed slightly. Maybe that would make him happy. She realized she was taking a chance each time she came to a bend but she couldn’t bear to have this man tailgating her and flashing at her. Why couldn’t he hang back like he’d been doing before? Why was he now desperate to get past?

  The Land Rover’s horn sounded, making Jen jump.

  “All right, all right,” she muttered, spotting an open farm gate at the side of the road ahead. She could go through the gate and wait on the dirt track while the dickhead in the Land Rover drove on. Then she could reverse back onto the road and continue on her way at her own pace.

  She slowed as she approached the gate and steered the SUV onto the track that led to a farmhouse in the distance.

  She was surprised when the Land Rover didn’t speed past her as she had expected but instead slowed down as well. It stopped at the gate.

  “Oh, great,” she said. It seemed the man in the Land Rover lived on this farm and now she was blocking his way. There was a ditch at each side of the dirt track so she couldn’t very well turn around unless she drove on to the farmhouse and turned around there.

  The driver got out of the Land Rover and began walking towards the SUV.

  “Bloody hell,” Jen whispered. The farmer was going to give her a piece of his mind and probably throw in a comment or two about women drivers. Trevor was always complaining about her driving, always belittling her, telling her the X-Trail was too big of a car for her to handle. And now she was going to get the same treatment from a total stranger.

  She pressed the button to lower her window all the way down and prepared to apologise. There was no need to enrage the guy any further. Jen just wanted to apologise and get out of there.

  As the man came alongside the car, she said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you lived here. If I can just turn around at your house, I’ll be out of your hair.”

  He got to her door and shoved his arm through the open window.

  When Jen saw the knife in his hand, she realised she should never have stopped at all.

  30

 
The Blade

  When Mitch arrived at Edge House, there was a police car sitting on the gravel near the side of the house.

  “Perhaps they’ve come to tell you they’ve caught the man who broke in,” Tilly suggested as she parked behind the police car.

  “No, I think they’re here to look for the knife in the garden,” Mitch said. “Battle thinks the intruder might not have been able to see it in the dark.”

  “Well, that’s good,” she said. “Finding the knife will bring the police one step closer to finding the guy.”

  “If it’s still there,” Mitch said, getting out of the car and trying to ignore the pain in his side. He went around to the boot and grabbed the sports bag.

  Tilly’s window buzzed down and she shouted back to him, “I’ve got to get to work now but if you want to go out for a meal sometime in the week, let me know.”

  “Okay, I will,” he said, shutting the boot and walking around to her window with the sports bag over his shoulder. “And it’s my treat. I have to thank you for saving my life.”

  She smiled and said, “That’s what family is for,” before giving him a quick wave and accelerating away.

  Two police officers appeared from around the side of the house. Mitch recognized them as the two officers who had been here before. He searched his memory for their names. The blonde woman was Sergeant Preston, he was sure of that. The dark-haired man was Constable White or Waite, or something like that.

  “Morning, sir,” Preston said. “Good news. We found the knife in your garden.” She turned to the constable, who held up a clear plastic evidence bag containing a short knife with a black handle. It was like no knife Mitch had ever seen. It couldn’t have been more than four inches long from pommel to tip and the blade was double-edged but one edge was straight while the other was serrated.

  “Diver’s knife, sir,” Preston said, seeing the confusion on Mitch’s face. “It’s not a common item so we’ll probably be able to track down where it was purchased.”