As Emily returned to watching the many birds occupying the water, she found herself thinking about Melody’s lake house daydream. Last night, it had filled her with sadness—it was the loneliness of it all, she supposed—but now, as she pictured herself in Melody’s place, she felt a deep yearning to return to the countryside.
London life certainly had its merits—you could eat food from any country in the world, enjoy a wealth of vibrant and diverse cultures, visit hundreds of theatres, museums and galleries, and admire centuries-old architecture—but the pandemonium of millions of people living in one place was sometimes unbearable. Emily was getting used to it, slowly. But there were days when she wanted nothing more than to head out into a field or a wood, where she was completely alone and free to sit in silence for hours.
After Phillip’s death, she had wanted to disappear. London had allowed her to do just that. It was like a vast ocean; she needed only to dive beneath its surface to never be seen again. Now that time had passed, however, and Emily had undergone yet more life-changing events, she had started to feel the need to resurface.
A large splash pulled her from her thoughts. The heron from last night had returned. She watched it glide along the lake, then dive beneath the water in search of breakfast. Suddenly aware of aches and pains in her lower spine, Emily got to her feet. How long had she been sat there, wrapped in blankets of thought? An hour? Perhaps more? Without clocks or watches, time had become as slippery as the fish the heron now battled with.
Emily took a few seconds to stretch out her limbs while she decided what to do next. She could return to the house and grab some breakfast, or she could think about joining Pamela’s yoga class. There was the possibility it had already started (she doubted she would hear the electronic bell this far from the house), but she could still show up, even if it was just to observe.
Not quite ready to make a decision, Emily left the jetty and strolled along the edge of the lake. Spying a new trail, she followed it through the forest. As she walked, her eyes wandered over wild woodland flowers and moss-covered trees. The trail coiled and bucked, writhing between the tree trunks. Some minutes later, she looked ahead and saw the trail merge with a small clearing.
Emily came to a halt just outside. A towering oak tree with a wide trunk stood at the edge of the clearing. It was clearly very old; perhaps as old as the forest. But it wasn’t the tree itself that had caught Emily’s attention. A strange symbol had been carved into the bark. Four long arrows pointed north, east, south, and west, while four shorter arrows had been carved at symmetrical angles in between. At first, she thought it was a compass. Then, as she cocked her head, she decided it looked more like a star.
Something else had caught her eye. Below the carving, a length of rope was tied around the tree trunk like a belt. Curious, Emily moved around the tree and stepped into the clearing.
Sunlight shone through the leaves and dappled the ground. Dust and plant seeds floated in the rays. Emily’s eyes followed the rope, moving away from the trunk and up towards the branches. The sound of running footsteps filled her ears.
Dressed in a tracksuit and panting lightly, Marcia Hardy jogged into the clearing. Noticing Emily, she slowed to a halt. Her eyes followed Emily’s gaze upwards. Then, as she saw what was in the branches, her face contorted with terror and she let out a piercing scream.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The man hung from the tree, thick rope pulled tightly around his neck. Bloodshot eyes stared over the clearing like two red mirrors. His tongue, which was black and bloated, protruded from blue lips. He swayed slightly in the breeze, the rope rubbing against the branch.
At first, Emily didn’t recognise him. But then, as voices and hurried footsteps approached, she knew exactly who he was.
Jerome was the first to arrive. He burst into the clearing, panting and sweating, his expression turning from confusion to horror. The others arrived moments later. A chorus of shocked gasps and cries filled the air.
It was Janelle who spoke his name. “Is that Oscar?”
“Yes.” Emily was having a hard time unpeeling her eyes from his horribly swollen face. Panic swept through the group. At the centre of it all, Pamela stared in open-mouthed silence.
“Are you all right?” Jerome had moved up beside Emily and was now rubbing her shoulder.
Emily shook her head. “I was just walking...”
Taking her by the arm, he pulled her from under Oscar’s feet.
Emily turned away and observed the rest of the group, who were in various stages of shock and upset. Marcia had stopped screaming and was now sobbing into Pamela’s shoulder. Standing on her own, Melody swayed from side to side, her skin turning to ash.
“We should call the police,” Pamela said above the moans and whimpers. No one disagreed. “Marcia, would you go ahead and make the call? Melody, would you mind very much going with her?”
Marcia remained where she was, her face streaked with sweat and tears. Melody tugged gently on her arm, pulling her away from her mother’s side. The rest of the group watched as the two women left the clearing, half-running in the direction of the house.
“Should we cut him down?” Janelle had moved up next to Helen, who was backed up against the trunk of a tree.
“We can’t,” Emily said. “The police won’t want us tampering with any evidence.”
“She’s right,” Helen nodded. For a moment, their eyes met.
Janelle clamped her arms around her ribs. “We can’t just leave him like that.”
“I’m afraid we have no choice,” Pamela’s voice was unusually curt. “There’s no sense in standing here upsetting ourselves even further. Let’s all return to the house. I’ll have Sam make some camomile tea.”
Near the edge of the clearing, Sylvia looked up at Oscar’s body, shuddered with revulsion, then pulled on Ben’s arm. As Ben trailed behind, he slowly shook his head; not in pity, Emily observed, but in disgust. She watched as Daniel, then Helen followed behind. Brow creasing, Janelle opened her mouth to say something, but quickly shut it again as she caught up with the others.
Emily was motionless. Memories of Phillip Gerard raced through her mind. An uneasy, displaced feeling gripped her body, as if the world had suddenly tipped ninety degrees.
“Let’s go,” Jerome whispered.
As they followed Pamela out of the clearing, Emily looked over her shoulder. Instead of Oscar, she saw Phillip, his young body dwarfed by the oak tree. By the time they’d made it out of the forest, her mind was racing. She thought about her encounter with Oscar after last night’s dinner. He’d shown no outward signs of depression or of intention to commit suicide. His behaviour had been odd, though. The way he’d kept staring at Emily had unnerved her. And when he’d asked her if she’d visited Meadow Pines before there had been a definite intention behind his words. What did it matter if this was Emily’s first or fifteenth time at the retreat?
“I wonder why he did it,” she thought aloud. “And why here? Why go to the trouble of coming to Meadow Pines?”
The others had regrouped and were halfway across the meadow. Emily could see them deep in conversation, probably asking the same questions.
“Who knows what motivates a person to go to such extremes,” Pamela said. Head down, she strode forwards, closing the gap between her and the rest of the group.
“I wonder if he had a family,” Jerome said. “Can you imagine what they’re about to go through if he does?”
Something was happening up ahead. The group had come to a standstill at the garden wall. Emily watched as Ben stabbed a finger at Daniel’s chest, who responded by throwing his hands into the air. Sensing trouble, the women took a step back.
“What is going on?” Emily wondered.
Without warning, Ben swung a fist and struck Daniel on the chin. All hell broke loose. Daniel stumbled backwards, slamming into the garden wall. He regained his balance, then flew at Ben, taking his legs out. They both hit the ground and rolled.
Staring at each other in disbelief, Emily and Jerome raced through the meadow.
***
Pamela had almost reached the group when Marcia and Melody appeared at the front door. They were quickly followed by Sam, who threw himself into the brawl. Sylvia shrieked and the other women shouted at the men to stop. Emily and Jerome arrived in time to see Sam stumble backwards, dragging Ben with him.
“Get the hell off me!” Ben’s fists swung wildly, but Sam’s hands were like iron clamps across his chest.
On the ground, Daniel rolled over onto his hands and knees.
“This is a place of peace! How dare you show such disrespect!” Pamela’s voice was like thunder rolling over the house. Sam released his grip on Ben, who slumped to the grass, puffing and panting. “What is going on here?”
“I don’t take too kindly to being called a wop,” Daniel said, then spat blood onto the grass.
Eyes fell on Ben. Beside him, Sylvia wrapped her arms around her ribcage. “Ben was only voicing his opinion. He has every right—it’s a free country, you know! You shouldn’t have got him angry.”
“Ben was saying some not very nice things about Oscar. He thinks he’s selfish,” Janelle explained. “Like the rest of us, Daniel took offence.”
“Anybody who’s going to do something like that hasn’t got a thought for anyone else. They don’t give a shit about the pain it will cause,” Ben said, climbing to his feet. His lower lip was purple and already swelling.
“I hardly think when someone decides to take their own life they’re thinking rationally enough to act selfishly or unselfishly,” Janelle replied. “And fighting like children about it isn’t helping anyone. All you’ve done is make a terrible situation that much worse.”
“I agree. Violence helps no one,” Pamela said. Her eyes moved from the crowd to Marcia and Melody, who were huddled together in the doorway. “What did the police say?”
“What did the police say about what?” Sam asked. “What have I missed?”
He moved up beside Marcia and, in a move that abandoned any professional standards in front of the guests, slung a comforting arm around her shoulder.
“Oscar is dead. He hanged himself.” Pamela said through tight lips. “The police, Marcia—are they on their way?”
Fresh tears spilled down Marcia’s face. “I can’t get hold of them.”
“Surely someone must be manning the station.”
“No, that’s not what I mean. The phone isn’t working. There’s no dial tone.”
Confused, Pamela shook her head. “But I just took a booking this morning.”
There was a long pause before Marcia spoke again, and it was obvious to Emily that she was gearing up to deliver more bad news. “There’s something else. Someone’s broken into the office. They’ve taken everything. Phones, tablets, even the car keys.”
“What are you talking about?” Pamela looked from one shocked face to the other, then back at her daughter.
“This is just fucking wonderful!” Ben said, his fat lip making him lisp. Still kneeling on the ground, Daniel glared at him.
“It’s true,” Melody said. “We went to make the call and found the cupboard door open.”
Deep lines grew like fissures across Pamela’s face. Muttering to herself, she pushed open the garden gate and marched towards the house. The group followed her into the office. Stood at the back, Emily strained to see between the bodies. She caught a glimpse of the cabinet where Pamela had secured the guests’ belongings. The door was hanging from just one hinge.
“You know what this means, don’t you?” Sylvia said, her voice somewhere between anger and hysteria. “We’re bloody stuck here! Who had access to this office? Don’t you keep it locked?”
Nervous voices filled the room, followed by suspicious glances. Emily’s mind raced. First, Oscar’s death, now a robbery. What exactly was happening here? She looked at Jerome, whose expression was somewhere between shocked and confused.
For a moment, Pamela was stunned. When she spoke, her words tripped over themselves. “No, I—I don’t. We’re in the middle of the forest. No one comes out this way.”
“So you’re saying it’s one of us?” Sylvia replied. Her head turned to the other guests. “Go on, which one of you was it?”
“Now just a minute, let’s not go accusing anybody of anything just yet,” Janelle said. She stood at the back of the room, arms wrapped around her chest.
“Not accuse anybody of anything?” Ben said. “Are we all just imagining that empty cupboard over there? I handed nearly a grand’s worth of equipment over to these jokers and now it’s gone. Who’s going to compensate me for that?”
“You’ll be compensated,” Pamela said. Emily could hear the strain in her voice. “Marcia, please tell me you still have the Land Rover keys?”
“I left them in the living room,” she replied. “I’ll go check they’re still there.”
“Please.”
Pushing her way out of the cramped room, Marcia darted into the foyer and headed towards the Hardys’ living quarters. With one less body sucking up the air in the office, Emily found it a little easier to breathe. She thought about her items that had been stolen. She didn’t care about the phone; no one called her anyway. The wristwatch could also be replaced. But without the car keys, she and Jerome would have a hard time getting back to London.
While they waited for Marcia to return, Pamela addressed the group. “I’m not sure what’s going on here, but it seems our only option is to take the Land Rover and drive down to Lyndhurst. The rest of us will just have to wait until help arrives.”
“I’m not staying here like a prisoner,” Sylvia muttered.
“I’m afraid we don’t have much choice,” Pamela said. “Marcia will take the Land Rover. She will drive to Lyndhurst. There’s a police station there. Sergeant Wells will take care of everything.”
As she finished speaking, Marcia hurried back into the room. The keys to the Land Rover jangled in her hand. “I found them.”
The relief in Pamela’s voice was undeniable. “Right, as this office is now a crime scene, I suggest the rest of us vacate it as quickly as possible. We should all return to our rooms and wait for Marcia to come back with the police. Sam, perhaps you wouldn’t mind making something to eat for about an hour’s time?”
“Sure,” Sam grunted. He moved through the group until he stood beside Marcia.
“Perfect. I’ll sound the bell when it’s ready.”
“We should organise a search party,” Ben said. “If someone here’s done this then there’s a good chance they’ve stashed everything somewhere inside the house.”
“The only people who will be searching my house are Sergeant Wells and his constable.” Pamela moved up to the door and held it open. “Shall we?”
Ben was first in line with Sylvia inches behind.
“This is disgusting treatment,” he said to Pamela. “I don’t like being told what to do like I’m some little boy.”
Behind him, Sam’s voice came low and threatening. “No one’s telling you to do anything, my friend. All Pamela’s done is make a polite suggestion.
Ben whirled around. “Oh, I’m not your friend, and I’ll do as I please. This place is a fucking joke, and I’ll make sure everyone knows about it.”
His eyes shifted towards Daniel. Then, with Sylvia hanging off his arm, he strode through the doorway and headed for the stairs. The group remained silent and still, the shock of Oscar’s death and now the robbery hanging heavy in the air. Then, one by one, they made their way back to their rooms. As she reached the stairs, Emily turned to see Pamela lock the office door. Sam and Marcia shared a lingering look, then Marcia went out into the garden with her mother.
Emily reached the top of the stairs in time to see Helen disappear into her room. Jerome was standing with Melody, Janelle, and Daniel.
“You look pretty beat up,” he said to Daniel. “You want some ice for that?”
“I’ll live
.” He winced as he ran fingers over his bruised jaw. “I guess some people just can’t help being assholes no matter how bad the situation.”
The sound of raised voices and stomping feet came from Room Four. Sylvia appeared in the doorway, stared at them with angry eyes, then darted across the hall and into the opposite room.
“I don’t like this,” Janelle said. “I don’t like the fact that Oscar is still hanging there. It feels so disrespectful just to leave him like that.”
“Did anyone speak to him?” Daniel asked. “Who was the last person to see him?”
“I saw him at dinner,” Jerome said. The others murmured in agreement.
Emily thought about seeing him just after, when he’d been watching her from the foyer. But he’d gone up to his room then, hadn’t he? She glanced at Melody, who was pale and trembling, and her mind raced back to the lake, to the noises that they’d heard.
“I think I’ll get some rest while we wait,” Daniel said. He glanced at Jerome, gave him a pained smile, then disappeared into Room Seven.
“Me too. I need some quiet time to let it all sink in.” Janelle returned to her room, leaving the three of them stood in the corridor, silence closing around them like a clamshell.
“How are you doing?” Emily reached out and touched Melody’s shoulder.
Melody’s eyes glistened. “I’ve never known anyone that killed themselves before. It’s just horrible.”
“It is. But the police will be here soon. Hopefully, they’ll be quick with their questions and then we can all go home. Do you want some company while we wait?”
“If you don’t mind, I think I need to lie down. I feel ... strange.”
They watched Melody return to her room and the end of the corridor.
“So much for a relaxing weekend,” Jerome muttered.
Together, they walked to Emily’s room. Jerome threw himself down on the bed.
“It’s like a bad joke or something. Welcome to Meadow Pines, where you can rest in peace—permanently!”
Emily didn’t laugh. Instead, she moved to the window and looked out across the meadow. She could see Marcia in the northwest corner, heading for the path that would take her to the Land Rover. She watched her disappear, then paced to the centre of the room, chewing on her lower lip. Her gaze moved to the wall.
Cruel Minds Page 8