Sincerely, Yours

by Charlotte Barnes

  I tapped my watch and Landon nodded.

  ‘Do you believe he is catchable?’

  ‘What I do believe, Landon, is that he’s taking up a little too much airtime for my liking.’ We shared a half-laugh. ‘I think there are more important people to talk about as part of this interview, if you don’t mind me steering a little?’

  ‘Please, Sarah, take the wheel. Are we starting with canonical?’

  I took another sip of water and tried to steady my breathing. ‘We’re not, no. We’re starting with the victims the police haven’t found yet…’

  52

  Wren had called me thirteen times on my mobile alone since Canonical had aired. She’d left four messages through work, too, but Marcus was under strict instructions to put her on the screening list. He’d shifted awkwardly and muttered something about withholding information from the police. I’d only laughed and told him not to worry. Wren wasn’t about to throw me under the bus for what could turn out to be hearsay. I knew she was worried that what I’d said on air was true – which it was – but I didn’t know if she was more worried about that, or the letter she was no doubt carrying around in her back pocket still. It came down to which concern took priority.

  Given that she hadn’t pulled me in for questioning in an official capacity – nor had she turned up at the office, or at home – I took an educated guess that the letter felt most important. Nothing like having your career dangled in front of you; something the killer had been counting on when he’d written to her. That, and he’d wanted to out me to her. But I hadn’t worked out the logic behind that yet.

  I leaned back against my car and pulled a half-empty packet of cigarettes out of my coat pocket. It had been a while since I’d had to drive out of the city for a social occasion. I was meant to be in Chester for the weekend; not for a social occasion, but because he’d told me he would be there: ‘A weekend away. There’s nothing sinister in it, Sarah.’ But I couldn’t decide why he’d tell me something so inconsequential unless there really was menace it in. I’d planned to go up there after him; to chase ghosts for two days. Much like I’d done for the best part of my early twenties. But Jessie’s gender reveal party had taken priority. Landon had gone as far to call me the day before and remind me.

  ‘Yes, I’m going,’ I said in mock outrage. ‘Are you?’

  A gender reveal party wasn’t exactly Landon’s thing. But his car was parked 200 yards up the street from mine, so I knew he’d made it.

  ‘Those’ll kill you one day, you know?’

  I looked up in time to catch Tyler dumping something into the recycling bin. ‘Wrapping paper. Wrapping paper, everywhere.’ He closed the gap between us and came at me with outstretched arms. ‘We didn’t know whether you’d come,’ he said into the knit of my scarf. It seemed to be a running theme; my friends not knowing whether they could count on me for things anymore. I didn’t like that too much.

  ‘I wouldn’t have let you both down.’

  He shrugged like the occasion was nothing. ‘We know you’re busy.’

  ‘Not too busy.’ I held out the packet. ‘Tempt you?’

  He pushed them away. ‘I’m a changed man. But I’ll crack if they’re in front of me for too long.’ I laughed and pocketed the box. ‘Oh, Sar, don’t let me stop you. I’m not one of those ex-smokers. I’ll even keep you company.’ He leaned back on the car next to me. ‘And I’ll suck in all of that second-hand smoke while I’m at it.’

  ‘You said you were throwing away wrapping paper. Did I miss presents?’

  ‘Christ, we’ve got presents for days.’

  I opened the passenger door of my car and pulled out two gift bags. ‘One for you, one for Jessie.’ He took them but with a questioning look. ‘Don’t hate me, but I thought the baby probably had enough stuff, and I’m really not so good at getting what kids need.’

  He laughed. ‘This is perfect.’

  ‘You don’t know what it is yet.’

  ‘As long as it’s not a breast pump or a diaper genie, then I’m grateful.’

  ‘Breast pump?’ I raised an eyebrow.

  He tucked an arm around my shoulders and steered me towards the front door. ‘Breast pumps for days, Sarah.’

  I was checking my phone religiously throughout the party. It wasn’t to see whether anyone had called – Brooks, another two times – but to check the time. The room was packed with people I hardly knew, and they didn’t look like the types of people Jessie and Tyler might know either. But they shot shifty looks in my direction every time my position changed. I wanted to reassure them that you couldn’t catch trauma, but it didn’t feel like the right time for an argument with anyone. Landon was propping up the room from an opposite corner, and every now and then he threw me a look that made me think he must be feeling the same. I took a sad comfort in that, at least.

  ‘Hey,’ a male voice pulled me around, ‘you’re Sarah, right?’

  I held out a hand, which he took for a shake. ‘Right.’

  ‘I listen to your show. To the podcast.’ He pointed to Landon. ‘You two work really well together. That episode the other night, though, man, that was some deep stuff. Big accusations.’ He laughed, and I wondered whether it was nerves or whether he was so untouched by violence that he could find it funny. ‘Hey,’ he moved a little closer, ‘how much of that stuff is true?’

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘On the show, about the victims. About the Yours Sincerely guy, I mean.’

  ‘Sincerely Yours,’ I corrected him.

  ‘That’s the one.’ He clicked his fingers. ‘You’re what – embellishing?’

  ‘Fin.’ Jessie’s hand landed heavy on his shoulder; her fingers bloated by pregnancy hormones, and her mood notably soured. ‘I’m pretty sure Georgina was looking for you, maybe out in the garden?’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘Nice to meet you,’ he said before disappearing.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ Jessie said when Fin was out of earshot. She tried to hug me side-on. ‘I opened your present.’

  ‘It wasn’t in bad taste?’

  ‘Are you kidding me? Gin and cheese are the best presents for a pregnant woman.’ She tapped her belly. ‘Not long now and I’ll be throwing this one out, then it’s Tyler’s turn to step up while I get drunk and eat stuff with mould on.’

  I laughed. ‘I’m glad. So,’ I nodded to the cake on the coffee table, ‘a girl.’

  ‘Honestly, Sarah, I would have been happy with whatever, as long as there’s just one.’ As though taking a cue, the twins tore past us; one darted between us and one cruised straight into Jessie’s legs before bouncing back and following her sibling. ‘Oh, the joys. Remind me why I’m doing this again?’

  ‘I heard it was because Tyler forgot to pay the TV licence.’ Landon appeared behind us. ‘You’ve got to do something when you can’t watch Strictly.’

  ‘Please, we’re a Britain’s Got Talent household, and we have Netflix anyway.’

  ‘In which case you have no excuse.’ He turned to me. ‘Smoke?’

  ‘You two,’ Jessie started, and I clenched for a reprimand about the dangers of cigarettes. ‘You smashed that episode of Canonical the other night. I’m glad to get you both together to say it. Are you feeling okay?’ She made the question sound general, but I could guess that it was pointed at me.

  ‘It’s a hard, weird time, isn’t it?’

  ‘You’ve got that right. Have you heard from the police at all?’

  ‘She’s heard from Brooks,’ Landon answered for me.

  ‘Brooks is hounding you?’

  ‘She wants to know the truth of what I said, that’s all.’ I brushed off the worry in Jessie’s voice. ‘I mean, it would help with their case and all, so–’

  ‘So, why aren’t you talking to her?’

  Because then I might lose the chance to catch him myself. ‘I will,’ I lied.

  Jessie turned to get a better look at me but, as though shifting weight had disturbed her balance too much, she l
anded hard on the wall behind her. Before I could grab her, though, Landon tucked an arm behind her back and pulled her up.

  ‘You all right there, mama bear?’

  She smiled. ‘Light-headed. But I’m fine, Land, I’m fine.’ She tried to wiggle free from him, but he kept a firm hold.

  ‘Nice try, but I’ll believe you’re fine when you’re sat down.’ He started to steer her. ‘Sofa, please, and I’ll even throw a cup of tea into the mix. Decaf.’

  ‘Oh, good,’ she half-laughed, ‘my favourite thing about being pregnant.’

  It took them nearly a minute to cross the room. Landon walked close behind Jessie with a hand on either side of her, gripped tight just beneath her bra-line. I guessed he was aiming for her waist. He ushered people out of the walk-space and, when Tyler saw them, he joined in – ‘Clear out, people, mother’s coming through.’ – and started to shift pillows out of Jessie’s way, so she could drop easily into the cradle of the sofa.

  When she was sitting, Landon continued with his offers of tea. ‘You’re sure, Jess? I know you hate decaf, but what about peppermint?’

  Tyler fell to his knees in front of her. ‘You’re okay? This isn’t it?’

  Jessie moved between both, batting away kind offers in one direction while offering reassurances in the other. They looked like children playing at being grown-ups, and I felt a swell of love rise from the pit of my belly. But there was also a strange kiss of relief at the sight of them managing without me.

  Whatever happened next, I decided, they’d all be fine.

  53

  Dear Sarah,

  I heard the show. But you knew I would. It surprised me that you gave away so much of our privacy like that, Sarah. I wonder what Wren had to say about it. I expected an official statement from her by now. You might have set them all busy worrying, though, Sarah, trawling through their back catalogues of no-never-mind murders in their cities. Is that what you wanted, something that would keep them busy?

  You’ve been busy, haven’t you, Sarah? The lights are back on in the flat, which must mean you feel safe again. That, or you no longer mind feeling in danger. The recording with the boy was live, for the podcast, wasn’t it? You were in the same room together. I could tell from the tones of your voices, the lack of a lag in your conversation. Did you tell him what to ask, Sarah, or is he really that curious all by himself? Then, there was the girl and her party. I cancelled my own plans, too, so I could make it. I saw you standing outside their palace, outlandishly decorated with their ‘It’s a baby’ balloons and banners. It didn’t seem like something you’d give time to, Sarah, not with everything else going on. But you care about them, I know, and I’ve been able to see that over the years. Why now, though, Sarah? That’s what’s got me wondering. Why not quality time months ago – after Madison, for instance?

  I’ve been tying up loose ends, too, in some ways. The woman I’ve shared my life with expects me to go away for an extended period soon, for work, which in some ways is true. Although this feels more vocational now. But telling her would cut me down the centre. Work think I’ll be taking a break, too, and it occurred to me this must have been the sort of lifestyle we’ve both been living for so long – you and I, Sarah. Because for every city I’ve skulked away to, you’ve come running after me. The lies we must have told to our nearest and most important people over the years, all for the luxury of nearly spending time together. Now here we are, tying up loose ends.

  Is that what you’re doing, Sarah, tying up loose ends? Getting ready?

  Be seeing you, then.

  Sincerely, yours –

  54

  Marcus stepped back into the room with a takeaway coffee cup in each hand. He used his foot to nudge closed the door behind him. But he stood on the opposite side of the space long enough to make me look up from our work. I threw him a quizzical glance.

  ‘Yes?’

  He hesitated. ‘The police officer standing out the front of the building?’

  ‘Brooks told me she might do that.’ I looked back down to the applications that were splayed across Marcus’ desk. ‘She, he won’t bother anyone. It’s nothing, really.’ I waved away his discovery and went back to reading. Marcus and I had started working two hours earlier than everyone else in the office, in the interest of wading through the early applications for intern positions at the paper, generally, but at the crime desk, too.

  ‘Sarah, don’t think me rude,’ he set a cup down in front of me, ‘but I feel like I may have missed something.’

  He had. After another seven missed calls, I finally plucked up courage enough to call Brooks back. When she’d finished reprimanding me – ‘Totally selfish of you, Sarah, completely.’ – she changed her tone to one of concern: ‘You’re antagonising him, first and foremost, but also the police. What are you playing at?’

  In the interest of easing her worries – and getting her to quieten down – I promised a first look at (some of) the files I’d been putting together on the killer. ‘I don’t know how much it’ll help,’ I’d said, trying to downplay the documents I was dragging into a zip folder as we spoke. While we were on the phone I’d sent her enough information to substantiate the claims I’d made on the podcast – a copy of the comeback tour being the most significant piece of evidence I could give her, and it felt generous to have done that, although she was outraged I hadn’t done it sooner – and since then she, her team, and teams around the country had been wading through their recent and historical murder cases for fear that even I might have missed something. He would have told me, though, if there were more.

  ‘You should be in police protection by now,’ she said when the documents arrived on her screen, ‘it’s ridiculous that you aren’t.’ I told her it wasn’t necessary, and she’d threatened a bodyguard instead…

  ‘So, he’s looking out for you?’ Marcus repeated, when I finished explaining.

  I took a sip of my drink and shrugged. ‘I guess.’

  He fidgeted awkwardly next to me and then said, ‘May I speak out of turn?’

  ‘You’re my boss.’ I leaned back in my chair. ‘I don’t know that that’s something you should worry about necessarily.’

  ‘I am your boss, but I’d like to speak to you as a friend.’

  I took a long blink to try to stifle an eye roll. Everyone’s talking to me as a friend these days, I thought as I reached over for my drink again.

  ‘I’m worried about you, Sarah, that you’re putting yourself in danger here. I don’t know – I mean, I don’t know if it’s for the book or publicity or,’ he shrugged, ‘Christ even if it’s for the interest it’s creating in the paper, but nothing in your life should come at this price. You know that?’

  I nodded. ‘It isn’t for the paper.’ His shoulders dropped with a sigh and I assumed I’d missed the point he’d been trying to make, so I took a second run at reassuring him. ‘This guy took Mum away from me. He’s got a weird fixation with me now, but that’s all this is. I’m not prepared to put my life on hold for some nutcase with a grudge or a– I don’t know, axe that needs grinding over something–’

  ‘Too violent on your idiom choice.’

  I smiled. ‘I’m not going to stop living for him.’

  ‘And I get that, I do, and I’m genuinely glad to hear it. But if he’s coming for you–’

  ‘He isn’t.’ I’m coming for him. I reached across and gave Marcus’ hand a squeeze. It was the closest we’d ever come to unprofessional contact. ‘He isn’t coming for me, I’m sure.’

  He squeezed back. ‘I just don’t know how you can be sure of that.’

  Because he’s letting me find him. I flashed a tight smile and looked back at the paperwork in front of us. ‘I know we’re talking about the armed guard and all, but I really feel like that’s a tomorrow problem, and the intern paperwork is maybe a today-problem.’

  ‘Is he armed?’

  I laughed. ‘I don’t know, but maybe I can leave first today and then you can get a good loo
k while he follows me home.’ I turned back to face the applications. ‘Because nothing turns off a serial killer like knowing your target is already being stalked.’

  ‘Not funny, Sarah, not even a little…’

  It took three more hours to narrow down a shortlist of five interns.

  ‘You should get Sheila in here,’ I said, as Marcus started to pack away the papers.

  He paused. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because she’s also involved on the crime desk, and it would be good to get her input.’ I pushed away from the table and tried to sound nonchalant. ‘What if she ends up working with them at any point?’

  ‘Well, she hasn’t had anything to do with interns to date so…’ he petered. His face dropped, and I wondered what he’d started to piece together. ‘You’re thinking of leaving the paper, aren’t you?’

  ‘No,’ I spluttered, already laughing. ‘Not at all.’

  ‘So, why would Sheila need to be involved with the interns?’

  My hand was already clutching the doorhandle. ‘Forget I said anything.’

  For the rest of the day Marcus shot me a worried look whenever he saw me. I avoided locking eyes with him in case one of us cracked into tears; it would have been him. When I saw him talking to Sheila, though, I wondered whether he’d taken my advice. But I wasn’t prepared to walk close enough to their conversation to find out for certain. Safe in the knowledge that Marcus was occupied, I slipped back into my office for fifteen minutes of solitude before the staff meeting. I hadn’t yet had the chance to check through my letter-tray, so I perched on the edge of my desk and thumbed through the deliveries from that morning. There wasn’t anything suspicious, though, and my heart sank. The last letter he’d sent made it sound as though he were ready for something – although I didn’t know what – but no matter what I shared with the police, or what the police reported back through the media, he didn’t look to be shifting forward anymore. I’m going to need something, I thought, tearing into the first letter from the pile. Something but–