The Air You Breathe (HEARTFIRE Book 3)

by Jave Kavfi

  "Don't you start – Ana's just been lecturing me. Did you miss me then?" Holly wraps herself around him. "Oh, look at you with all your working gear on. You look like a lumberjack in that shirt. All hot and sweaty and that stubble's a big turn-on. George's skin is all pink and smooth and puffy – he reminds me of a pig."

  He pulls away. "We had an intruder in the courtyard last night." He gives Ana a look – they've already decided to play down the break-in, as they don't want police involvement. "You need to keep the window shut at night, and be on the look-out for men you don't know well. This guy might change his appearance, but he's big, has a beard and–"

  "Oh, don't worry about me. I've usually got Dean with me when I'm out. Me and him are like a pair of conjoined twins – everyone says."

  Caden raises an eyebrow. "Yeah, well it's pretty obvious why that is."

  "What? What? Oh, you don't mean he's got a thing for me? You jealous? But don't worry – he hasn't. He doesn't think of me like that at all. Doesn't even see me as a woman."

  "I wouldn't bet on that, Holly," Caden says, helping himself to coffee.

  "Don't be disgusting. Me and him have been friends since we were babies. I could be naked in front of him and he wouldn't even notice. I could straddle him naked and he would be totally uninterested. He's ... he's..."

  "Gay?" Caden says with a laugh. "And I'd give the straddling a miss, if I were you – there's a good chance you'd be getting a bit of a shock."

  Holly gives him a playful slap. "Not gay, you tease – just like family. Like you and Ana. You and her could ... could wrestle naked and it wouldn't even come into your mind that she's a girl."

  Caden splutters out his coffee. "Never mind all that. Just be careful, is all I'm saying. There's someone out there that's dangerous."

  Holly plants herself down on a chair and lets out a sigh. "It's my fault. Me coming to live here. He must have heard about an attractive girl moving in, so came to have a look."

  "What? It doesn't work like that." He looks at Ana and gives a what-is-she-like?' headshake. "Holly – no woman is safe from a freak like him. It doesn't matter what a person looks like. On this occasion, he was spying on Ana. The main thing is to keep the windows closed and to watch out in general, because he's still on the loose. Anyway, I need to go for a shower."

  "You can't yet. I need you to go collect my things from the flat and it's better you do it before George comes back. I'm so finished with him. You won't believe it, but instead of taking me to London like I wanted, he went to his daughter's school concert. Just because she's playing lead violin in some silly orchestra."

  Caden shakes his head again. "I'd respond to that, but for once I'm lost for words."

  "Yes, I know – really selfish of him. So, you'll have to get my things in case he throws them out. I'd do it, but they're too heavy to lift. All my uncle's boxes we rescued from the cottage. Other people get real family heirlooms like silver and jewels, and I just get all the mangy old photographs. Why did he have to be a photographer and not the head of a multi-million pound conglomerate, I do not know. I'd dump them, but Gertie wants to have a look through them and I promised. Some project she's working on – the history of Dashbury. As if anyone in the world would care about that."

  Caden and Ana are exchanging looks. "There will be photographs of the residents of Dashbury from many years ago?" Ana asks.

  "He photographed everyone – went to all the events."

  "I'll leave the shower for now," Caden says. "Just give me that address."

  Chapter 19

  Her life is one big humiliation, Sarah decides as she hurries across the road. She wouldn't go out unless she had to, but her mother's prescription was ready, so there was no choice but to go get it. Mark was at the reception desk talking to another doctor and he cut her dead. Actually turned his back on her. He's not answering any of her calls and she's almost certain the old dragon of a receptionist gave her a filthy look. Does she know? Does everyone know? That she humiliated herself running after a man once again. That he used her for sex, then discarded her.

  Now she's had to take time off work, saying she's got a throat infection, but it's because she fell over last night and has a black eye. She can't go into school like this – there's already enough gossip about her as it is. Her life's out of control – picking up a strange man in a pub that night and bringing him home. He wasn't even attractive or interesting, but that's how desperate she was. Desperate and drunk. She has to admit that to herself, about the drinking. And even he bailed-out – through a window. That's how frantic he was to get away from her.

  There's shouting. A woman's voice raised and laughter and younger voices. She rounds a corner and sees a group of youths crowded around a woman. Miss Patterson? That's right – she used to be the nanny at Ryden all those years ago. What are those teenagers doing to her? Most of them are familiar – a couple she taught and the others perhaps from one of the surrounding villages. All of them trouble, if she remembers correctly.

  "You stay out of my garden, you thugs," Miss Patterson is saying in a commanding but slightly quavering voice.

  "Stay out of my garden. You thugs," one of the boys repeats in a mocking voice.

  "She'll put the evil eye on us," a girl shrieks.

  "Two evil eyes, you mean," another boys shouts, rolling his eyes up and doing a zombie walk.

  Miss Patterson steps forward, waving her stick. "Get out of here, or I'll–"

  "Ya can't do nothing to us," a girl shouts in the woman's face. "We'll get child protective services on to you. You touch us and it will be abuse."

  "Leave the woman alone – you little bullies," Sarah calls out.

  "Ha, it's Miss Fleming. Someone must have given her a shiner. You drunk again, Miss?" one of the boys says, holding his sides and staggering about as if he's about to collapse with laughter.

  "Not today, no, I'm having a day off," Sarah says quietly. Everyone knows? Even the kids she used to teach.

  "Yeah, yeah, she's the town drunk, ha-ha. Slut as well. My uncle had her over the bonnet of his van one night. Said she was well up for it and begging for more." This is from an older boy she recognises as a known troublemaker. A repulsive, vicious little runt, who is now clutching his groin and prancing about pointing at her.

  They're all laughing and shouting and swearing and dancing around her. In the background Miss Patterson – once a respected and slightly feared woman – is reduced to imploring them to stop. The runt – a cowardly bully, with pinched features, shot-away chin and currants for eyes – is spewing out curses, making a v-sign with both hands, in between having yet another grab at his crotch. She remembers Mark pushing her back in the chair like she was a piece of garbage; his look of disgust after they finished making love. A married man and she shouldn't have, but is this what you get for not being what they want or respect?

  The runt is so close she can smell him; the mix of weed and his unwashed body. "Not 'abuse' with you though, is it?" she says quietly. "You're an adult – nineteen, I believe. Why are you hanging around with children?"

  The shock on his face. "Fuck you," he says.

  "No – fuck you." There's a gasp from the others as she grabs him by his grubby sweatshirt and lifts him until he's level with her face. "Oh, look – your little legs are dangling," she says. He aims spit and tries to head butt her, but she dodges to the side and rattles him about until his teeth are jangling. One scrawny arm swinging at her and she gets it by the wrist and twists. Not quite enough to snap a bone, but it must be very painful.

  "This is what you are following around?" she says to the others. "The snivelling little coward who once soiled himself in class when a boy stood up to him for making a younger child's life a misery. Oh, that story did its rounds. How we laughed." She lets him drop and flicks him away with a foot.

  "You must all leave this lady alone," she announces. "Or you might find the police at your door. Would your parents or guardians want that, given that I know for a fact they ar
e all involved in various forms of illegal activity?"

  She watches as they scurry off. "Despicable, the lot of them," she says to Miss Patterson.

  "The world has changed," the older woman says. "This would never have happened in my day. The disrespect. This town has changed too – there were never children such as those about in my day."

  "Most of them are not from Dashbury and you'll find the children here are well behaved and respectable, as a whole," Sarah tells her. "But you're right about the disrespect. People do that, it seems, if they think they are more powerful than you. I'm sick of it."

  "Perhaps you would like to come in for some tea. We could talk about this disrespect some more. I have experienced a great deal of it recently and I am sick of it too."

  "I think that would be an excellent idea." Sarah follows the woman inside.

  *

  Caden appears to have lost the power of speech. His eyes are locked on Holly's breasts as she leans across him to pick up a magazine. "Yes, I like this one," she says, running her hands down her near-naked body. "But I think it's a bit too covered-up. There's a better one in the mag and I might buy it. A bikini can't be too small, in my opinion."

  Ana's laughing. "Considering the fact the one you've got on consists of a couple of ribbons, I don't think they can get much smaller than that. You look great, but what's with all the bikini fashion parade? The weather's not that hot yet."

  "Oh, I'm thinking ahead. And I'm doing a total beauty blitz tonight. I'm not like you, always in jeans and baggy hoodies and hardly any make-up – I like to make the best of what I've got. I'm thinking of getting rid of my 'landing strip' and going totally bare!" She wriggles her hips in Caden's direction and there is the sound of an audible gulp from him. "Oh, sorry, Caden – what were you saying about the photographs?"

  "Photographs?" he says, a bunch of them still clutched in his hands. "Dunno..."

  "He was saying are you sure you don't mind us going through them all." Ana gives him a slight kick under the table.

  "Of course you can. Don't know why you'd want to – boring. I'm going upstairs to do some shopping online – if I can get a decent connection. Caden, you can join me later, if you like. We'll talk about the first thing that pops up." She giggles her way to the door.

  "Will you close your mouth? You're actually drooling," Ana says when Holly leaves the room. "We're supposed to be going through these. She's just trying to entice you with her body."

  "Ana, it's working." His eyes are on the closed door.

  "Get your mind back on our 'evidence'. These photographs go back ages and there might be some that were taken on the day of the picnic."

  "It's not my mind that's controlling me right now..." He grins and then falls forward in a laugh. "Sorry. Okay – what were you saying?"

  "You want to do this or not? It was actually your idea."

  "Yes. Sorry. Right. I just lost concentration. There are hundreds here, it will take all night." He's shuffling through them. "At least he's dated most of them – pity there's not that many with the names on the back."

  "Ah ... look at this one. I love it."

  "Who is he?"

  "You idiot – that's Gertie in her hockey gear."

  "Really? I'm sorry – but she looks like an Olympic Soviet shot-putter. Jesus – look at the state of Henry. I think it's him." He holds up a photograph of a man in a dinner jacket, leering into the lens. "If I had daughters and I saw him hanging around them, I'd be reaching for my shotgun."

  "He's very handsome. Stop being evil. It's not like you."

  "Still ... a touch of the Count Dracula about him, if you ask me. Sorry – I am being evil. I'm in a weird mood. Who's the hot blonde?" He checks the details. "This one does include names, and that's Madeline – Mortimer's second wife. What did she see in him? Oh, yeah, the money – ha – still evil. But an old dude like that and she looks about our age. He's – what? Like sixty? So, she kills herself because she was mentally unstable – if she was. We don't know what the hell went on in that house."

  Ana has emptied the contents of another box on to the table. "Think I've got them – the picnic ones, going way back. Just trying to sort out the different years. Hmm... Ryden was well-maintained in those years – they must have had a good few staff on the payroll."

  "Yeah, and old Mortimer was banging roughing half of them, according to what we've been told." He's flicking through the photographs and putting them in different piles. "There you go – this bunch are from the year Evangeline died. Hey, I think we just hit the jackpot."

  "The picnic? Is it the right year?"

  "Yep. And would you look at that. Evangeline on the swing, in her white dress. That must have been taken shortly before she died."

  Ana gets up and leans over his shoulder. "She looks relaxed and happy. That spot is near the lake, isn't it? I wonder why she's sitting there alone. I mean, apart from the photographer. Holly's uncle – we don't know he's not the murderer."

  "She's not alone. There's a figure behind those trees – look."

  "There is. But that's a child. Might be nothing – just a kid standing there. Can't make out if it's a girl or boy."

  "A child that stands back and watches. Kids do that, or some do. What did he or she see that day?"

  "Were the children interviewed? Did any of them speak up?"

  "More to the point, did one of them have good reason to keep quiet? Kids have things to hide too."

  Chapter 20

  He lifts his hair away from his forehead. Another bald spot. It's the stress that's causing this. He's an emotional person and he's been through a lot recently. Still in a good deal of pain and badly bruised. This is why he can't go out and look for Nelson, and he's been gone for two days. His father's doing, he knows that. Fed him poisoned meat and buried the body or like the other time put him in the back of a long distance container lorry and left him. So now, if he's still alive, he'll be in another part of the country. Definitely his father, the bastard. Anyone who harms an animal deserves to burn in hell. He's only had Nelson for a few months, but he was useful as protection and he needs it, as any time he's not invisible, men want to beat him up. For nothing. Just looking at him gives them the urge to pound him to a bloody pulp.

  The stress of everything has got him grinding his teeth again. He lifts his top lip and takes a look – some of them are worn down to stumps. Stained and broken. Another abscess building up. He rocks a rotting molar with his tongue. Lost two last year – pulled them out himself, despite the pain. Hasn't been to a dentist in years. Can't stand the idea of something being rammed into his mouth and never could.

  He puts the mirror down and lies back on the sofa. Still can't believe he was actually caught in the act. The guy looked really young but he was strong as hell and mad as fuck. Looked like the type women drop their knickers for and he's probably having both those girls in the book shop at the same time. The thought of that has set him off again, but he's still sore, as that guy also kneed him hard in the guts and the slightest movement is agony. He hates pain and most people do, apart from the freaks who get off on it, but with him it's like an aversion. Now he's anxious and has to do it again. It's not easy getting up but he makes it to the wall mirror and picks up the green one from the redhead. Some of her hairs are still stuck through the bristles.

  His father hasn't come back yet, so maybe he's had an accident crossing the road or something. The reason he hasn't got rid of him yet is he's still trying to solve the puzzle of why he is the way he is. Makes his brain go into a spasm trying to work it out – so it must be a highly complex condition, because he's studied human behaviour more than most experts and could become a shrink himself if there wasn't so many barriers to entry. But basically, the old man is too full of spaces where the feelings should go and it might be he's one-of-a-kind or even a member of an alien race. So that's why it can't be worked out.

  He's lost count now, so will have to start again. It's always five hundred with his right hand and th
e same with his left. The bristles are digging in and chunks of hair are coming out. Scalp bleeding again and the scabs coming off. He'll go back to the book shop when he knows for certain the guy is well out of the way. It will only take around fifteen minutes and it will not be the flashy blond but the other one. This is because she has more mystery and also he knows that guy will have more feelings for her.

  *

  Sarah hurries towards home. She didn't mean to stay so long at Miss Patterson's house, but the woman was so resentful about how she had been treated by Lucinda that she went on about it for nearly two hours and revealed a good deal of information about the Mortimer family, some of which was intensely shocking. She turns a corner and almost runs into Lucinda and her family – no, she has no intention of speaking to them. Of being patronised. And with the mood she's in there's a good chance she might blurt out what she now knows. The market's still on – she'll head there for five minutes to avoid crossing their path.

  Maggie's giving her a wave from her stall. "Ha, I see Lady Muck's showing off her new hubby again. You'd think he'd be some big deal, but he doesn't look no great shakes to me."

  "Hello, Maggie. I'm just... Oh, my goodness – I've just worked out who he is. Or more to the point – who he was."

  *

  They now have the photographs spread out on the table. Caden hits the end of his pen off the one in the centre. "Her again. This is before the rain started, but late afternoon or early evening, by the look of the light. So taken very shortly before she died. That figure behind the trees. Is that the same person as the one in the other picture? I don't think so. Older, but not an adult, and it looks like they don't want to be seen."

  "A taller child or maybe someone just hitting their teens? But they might have just been standing there or ... no, you're right. It's kinda furtive. She made enemies and so did her sister. Might be because of envy and them being considered privileged and spoiled."