by Farah Ali
‘Oh, this is just pathetic.’ Alma crossed her arms.
Lila cowered, curling into a ball on the grass willing the flies to stop, gagging on their rotten bodies.
She opened one eye and then the other. It was quiet again. The cabin door was still open, but Lila didn’t want to go inside. I have to. I don’t know why, but I have to. Something’s not right.
Urging her stiff legs forwards she stepped inside. The trees outside faded to grey and then to black until only the cabin existed. A neat, sparsely furnished room with an old-fashioned floral rug on the floor. A shattered vase with long stem roses lay against a wall, water still dripping down, petals scattered far and wide.
I’ve seen this before. The air grew thick and suffocating. Every movement felt like she was wading through syrup. She forced herself onwards. Another room. A bedroom this time. Lila gasped, clutching her throat. A row of heads, their neck’s severed and impaled onto branches lined the wall, the eyes rolled up agony.
Lila blinked and the scene reorganised itself. They weren’t human heads after all, just mannequins, each with a mop of hair on top. Wigs. That’s what the mannequin heads are for. I’ve seen this before.
A rush of air, a soft thump and shuffling behind her.
Lila knew with a sickening certainty that it was terrible. Don’t look. Just stay still. It’ll go away. But she had to see, had to know.
Back in the kitchen, Alma drummed her fingers against the table. This was getting boring. She shot a dirty look at Lila. Sweat patches had formed under her arms and her chest was rising and falling rapidly. Alma spotted a knife in the dish rack. She considered stabbing the girl in the neck and watching her eyes fling open as hot blood bubbled out, unable to understand what was happening to her. Alma chuckled. That would wake her up. Instead, she sighed and examined a lock of her new hair, marvelling at the lack of split ends, enjoying the silky sensation over the palms of her hands.
Choking down a sob, Lila turned. A girl with a rope around her neck swung from the light fixture. Her hands were tied behind her back and her neck bent at an unnatural angle. Lila stepped forward, giddy with terror. A swollen blue tongue lolled out of the corner of her mouth.
‘Who...who are you?’
Lila studied the thick hip-length plait and the purple tinged brown skin. The eyelids opened and Lila stepped back, her nausea rising as she stared into a pair of empty cavities.
‘Pari.’ The lips didn’t move at all and the voice was strangled and bitter. ‘I came to the Hollow to be safe. Safe in Deerleap Hollow.’ The body spun slowly. ‘No safety in the Hollow, only pain.’ She began to sob.
A mirror appeared on the wall. With a roaring in her ears, Lila peered into it. Her own pale, clammy face stared back. She exhaled in relief, closing her eyes. She opened them and screamed.
It was Alma without her wig, her bald head the colour of stewed meat, calculating and sly. Her lips parted.
‘Why shouldn’t I have nice things? Pretty things?’
Lila covered her nose as the stench of rotten flowers overwhelmed her. The room plunged into darkness. Blind, she groped her way around until she bumped into Pari’s hanging body. Pari flashed, as if lit up by lightning, twisting her neck against the noose until she stared directly into Lila’s face.
She uttered one desperate, anguished word.
‘Run.’
Chapter Thirty
Lila revived with a gasp, dropping the turquoise as if it were burning. The chair scraped against the linoleum before crashing to the floor. She ran to the tap and splashed her face with cold water spitting into the sink.
‘Well? Are you done? What can you tell me?’
Lila bent over with her hands on her knees. Alma, perfectly composed with her legs crossed, appeared amused. Lila glanced at the doorway. Pari’s warning rang in her ears, but she wasn’t afraid. Alma had no weapon and Lila was certain she could overpower the shorter woman.
Pricked with doubt, Alma’s smiled faded. Why was the Cassandra girl staring at her in such a queer way?
Lila sucked in air. Bianca, Abigail and a girl called Pari who nobody knew about. White-hot anger welled up inside her.
‘It was you. You’re the killer. Three girls, oh you sick bitch.’
Alma flinched as if struck, gaping. For an instance Lila was no longer pathetic and trash-like, now she stood all powerful like a queen and under her stern gaze Alma was craven and small. Her fingers fluttered around the pleats in her blouse. She was afraid. For the first time in her life since the fire, Alma felt fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of Lila, pure, stark fear that made her squirm and back away.
‘How...how did you know?’ Her tongue moistened her lips in a panicky circuit.
Lila bared her teeth. ‘I have the Gift, you fool.’
‘There’s no such thing. You’re lying. It’s not possible.’ But there was a quiver in Alma’s voice and her eyes darted around like a cornered animal.
‘You’re going to pay for what you’ve done. To Bianca, to Abigail. And to Pari. Why? Why did you kill them?’ Her eyes widened as she looked at Alma’s wig. ‘You’re wearing Pari’s hair. Oh, God.’ Lila covered her mouth, her gorge rising.
Alma emitted a series of grunts from deep in her throat. How could this scruffy chit of a girl know about Pari? It wasn’t possible. No one could know about Pari.
‘I’m going to call the police.’
Downstairs, the bell above the door tinkled. Lila froze frowning in confusion as she heard the door shut and lock.
Relief coursed through Alma and she tossed Pari’s hair over her shoulder, reassured and calm. She followed a tense Lila into the living room.
Lila hesitated at the foot of the stairs her heart hammering. She glanced back at Alma who was watching, stony faced but confident.
Run. Tick, tick, tick. Runrunrun. Lila shook her head, trying to dispel the fading echoes of Pari.
Slow, pounding footsteps ascended the stairs and Lila’s tongue hit the roof of her mouth. And when a stocky man clad in a Happy Cones uniform wearing black gloves and grinning from ear to ear planted his boot-clad feet at the top of the staircase Lila blanched as realisation dawned. She had walked into a trap.
Bert shot his wife a concerned look. ‘Everything all right Alma?’
Alma sniffed, patting her hair sulkily. ‘Yes. Now it is. She upset me, said all sorts of horrible things.’
Bert flushed red and took a menacing step towards Lila who backed away, scanning the room for a weapon, for anything she could use against them.
‘And she knows about Pari. She must have seen you.’
Staring at Lila, Bert swung his head from side to side. ‘Impossible. There was no one there.’
Bert raised the pungent rag in his hand and Alma threw her head back and cackled as Lila fled into the bathroom and locked the door. She planted a soft kiss on Bert’s cheek.
‘Go get her, love.’
***
After trawling through his notes for the millionth time Jack tossed the notepad onto the coffee table in disgust. Parking the pen behind his ear he leaned back rubbing the bridge of his nose trying not to succumb to the anger sweeping over him. The investigation was riddled with failure—worse, he knew the window of opportunity to catch Bianca and Abigail’s killer was becoming narrower as each day passed. Where are you? What are you thinking? Are you biding your time or have you finished?
With a groan Jack rested his elbows on his knees and scanned the mass of papers and photos in front of him. Faded brown cardboard peeked out from beneath the pile. With a sinking sensation he pulled out the Cassandra file. As they often did now, his thoughts strayed to Lila. He missed her.
The photograph of the Cassandra family slid out and dropped onto the floor. Bending down he caught the whiff of new carpet. He spent most of his time at the office and the barely trod-upon carpet fibres hadn’t had a chance to absorb the odours of daily life. The edges of the picture had curled. Jack smoothed it out with his fingers and when that
didn’t work he placed two mugs on the corners.
He crouched over the picture studying each face, lingering over Noah and Lila’s. Jack had looked at these faces so many times, he knew them intimately. Amelia had a mole on her cheekbone beneath her right eye. Noah had a scar on his right forearm and in Jack’s imagination he’d gotten it playing sports when he was a young man. One of Maura’s cheeks was puffed out a little and he thought she was sucking on a sweet. As for Lila, she had—
Jack slotted the photograph back and stood. A run. That’s what I need. A long, hard run. Then I’ll come back home, shower and eat.
He threw a pair of joggers on over his boxers and tied his trainers. It was a clear night and Jack’s spirits rose as he drew in deep breaths of tangy air. The sky was studded with more stars than could ever be imagined in the city.
One of Jack’s neighbours parked in front of her house and gave him a cheery wave. She looked like she wanted to talk so he increased his pace before waving back. He ran past rows of antler clad front doors and smiled to himself. It had seemed so strange to him months before, but now he would think it strange if a door didn’t have a pair of antlers nailed to it.
Turning the corner he almost collided with a woman in a fitted jumper and a leather skirt.
‘Sorry, I—’ He paused, cocking his head. The blonde girl was familiar and with a jolt he realised why. It was like looking at a younger, more made-up version of Amelia.
He hazarded a guess. ‘Daisy?’
Daisy’s eyelashes fluttered. Jack wasn’t her type, but he had strong features and a ruggedness she appreciated.
‘Yeah. I’m Lila’s cousin.’
Jack tensed. ‘Is Lila okay?’
The concern in the Inspector’s voice made Daisy smile a little. ‘I’m sorry to bother you, it’s just...I don’t know. I thought maybe Lila would be here. I’ve been looking for her, and...’
Jack wiped his mouth. ‘No. No, she isn’t here. Why would she be?’
Daisy quirked an eyebrow. ‘No reason. But someone told me you lived down here so I thought I’d check, but I didn’t feel right calling you at home.’
‘Well, she isn’t here.’ He paused and studied Daisy. ‘Is something wrong?’
Daisy shrugged. ‘I’m probably being silly but...’ she trailed off biting her lip. ‘I wanted to see her, to talk to her, you know? My Dad is really upset and I wanted to tell her to stop dragging things up from the past.’ She crossed her arms and cast an accusatory look his way, thrusting her chin out in exactly the same way Lila did.
Jack ignored her. ‘And?’
Daisy sighed twirling a strand of hair around her finger. ‘She wasn’t there. But the shop was open. I mean the front door was wide open. It was a little strange cos she usually locks up before leaving. I just had a bad feeling.’
‘Did you go upstairs?’
‘No. I stood at the foot of the stairs and yelled up. No answer and the lights were off. Obviously she wasn’t in. I’ve been everywhere she usually goes, but I can’t find her. I even went to the graveyard—’ Daisy shook her head.
Jack paused to think, a drumbeat of worry in his chest. ‘Okay. It’s probably nothing but I’m going to Lila’s house.’
‘I’ll come with you.’ Daisy hurried after Jack as he strode back up the road.
They climbed into Jack’s car and drove to the other side of town, over the speed limit the entire way. Jack climbed out and ran up the path.
Daisy had shut the front door, but not locked it and he flicked the light on. He glanced from side to side. The only sign of anything amiss was a basket on its side spilling out its contents onto the floor. An old-fashioned floral perfume lingered in the air.
Jack checked the stockroom before climbing upstairs to where Lila lived. Relief flooded through him. There was no sign of any disturbance. Daisy came up behind him and stood with her hands on her hips.
Tulip flapped as Jack neared and he smiled at the bird’s harmonious warbling. Noting that the water container was nearly empty he unlocked the cage, taking care not to let Tulip escape. Amused, Daisy watched him go into the kitchen.
She cleared her throat. ‘So what do you think?’
Jack replaced the water container. ‘Everything seems all right to me. Her chunk of turquoise was on the kitchen floor.’ He ran a finger over the pitted grooves in the rock absentmindedly and gazed around the living room before checking her bedroom. He looked inside the spare room too which was empty.
‘I’m sure she’ll be back tomorr—’
Jack froze. The bathroom door, a flimsy affair, was splintered and ajar. Half the lock dangled off the frame. Daisy stepped around him and gasped.
‘What happened to the door?’
‘It looks like someone kicked it in. While it was locked.’ A shadow of fear passed over him.
‘But who could have done that? Lila? Maybe someone was using the bathroom and they got stuck and she kicked it in. Nothing looks stolen and Lila doesn’t have a boyfriend, or any friends, not really...’ Daisy trailed off.
Jack swallowed, forcing himself to stay calm as his mind raced. Daisy could be right—Lila had taken out the turquoise after all. A client had got locked in and Lila broke the door. Very possible. But what if...Jack gave his head a violent shake.
Stop it. Lila isn’t the killer’s type. He’s never come into the victim’s home before—the modus operandi is completely different. And yet...
Daisy glanced at the door then at Jack’s solemn face. She wrapped her arms around herself.
‘Inspector? Is Lila in danger?’
Jack turned to her with haunted eyes. ‘I don’t know.’
Chapter Thirty-One
‘Come on Inspector, be reasonable. It doesn’t sound like the Cassandra girl is in any danger to me. Probably just an argument with a boyfriend.’
Jack gritted his teeth. ‘We have a young woman missing not long after two murders have taken place. A woman who, by the way, was responsible for the discovery of both bodies.’
Angus clicked his silver plated pen repeatedly, fixing the Inspector with a puzzled stare.
‘And?’
‘What do you mean and? What if the killer learned of her role in our investigation? Let’s face it gossip in this town spreads like a disease. Lila is a witness. He might have heard about her...abilities and decided to rid himself of the problem once and for all.’
Angus shook his head. ‘You’re guessing. And he’d be a fool to believe that nonsense. You’re getting distracted when all your resources should be focused on catching the killer.’
Jack clenched his fists cursing his luck. Trust the chief to make an impromptu visit today of all days. When Lila hadn’t returned home last night Jack had scoured the town all night before summoning his team at the crack of dawn for an emergency meeting.
Warren coughed. ‘The MO is different, sure, and it might be a coincidence, but shouldn’t we be looking for her anyway? She could be in trouble. We’re Deerleap police, isn’t it our responsibility to make sure she’s all right?’
There was a murmur of agreement around the room. Angus’ cool gaze swept over Warren, Graham, Alika and Rhea in turn before coming to rest on Jack.
‘I am glad to see you all so keen to do your duty, but perhaps I should remind you what your priorities are. Lila Cassandra isn’t a child, she’s a grown woman. And she certainly doesn’t fit the profile of the last two victims. The only evidence you have that something is wrong is a broken bathroom door—there could be a hundred explanations for that.’ The confrontation over David Ash years ago came to mind and Angus grimaced. ‘I don’t know her well, but she’s always struck me as unstable.’
He met Jack’s steely stare before making his way to the door.
‘Keep an eye out for her by all means, but the mayor and I don’t want the town panicking unnecessarily, not now that things have calmed down a little. She’ll turn up in a couple of days time, you’ll see.’
‘Dead or alive, that’s the
question,’ seethed Jack as Angus left. ‘I don’t care what Brent says, finding Lila is our top priority.’
Alika drained her third coffee of the morning. ‘If the killer has taken Lila, then we’re to blame. We should have protected her. It seems obvious now—of course she’d be in danger. Why didn’t we think of this before?’
Jack rubbed his itchy eyes, but he felt wired, not tired. ‘It’s my fault. I should have seen this coming. It didn’t even cross my mind that the killer might see her as a threat. He must have learned of the rumours. God, I never thought—’ he broke off unable to continue. George’s words came back to taunt him: ‘If anything happens to her, let it be on your head, Inspector.’
‘We can’t give up hope. We’ll find her—remember we can’t be sure she’s in danger,’ said Rhea.
‘Find her? Like we found Bianca? Like we found Abigail? And the killer?’ Graham shook his head in disgust. ‘Just face it, we’re blind. She’s got no chance.’
Alika shot him an angry look. ‘What kind of attitude is that? Come on, let’s get going. We haven’t spoken to anyone yet. Someone might have seen her. We split up and deal with one section of the town at a time. After that...’
Jack stared out of the window. ‘After that, I’m going into the forest to look for her. Anyone who wants to join me can.’
The four officers exchanged uneasy glances. Going into the forest surrounding Deerleap and straying off the main paths was dangerous, and also prohibited by Angus Brent. They would be risking their jobs, perhaps even their lives to look for someone they weren’t even sure had been kidnapped.
‘Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that,’ said Warren gently.
***
It only took Bert one hard kick to break the thin bathroom door. He made a grab for Lila and she slashed at his arms with a razorblade, catching him once on the wrist. He howled, back-handing her cheek and knocking her against the sink. Snarling he grabbed her and pressed the cloth against her mouth and nose.