Dead Jealous

by Sharon Jones

  ‘What went wrong?’ DS Grant asked.

  She turned to Mum, desperate now to tell her. ‘I think I’ve ruined things with Michael, Mum. I said – I told him I—’ A tear trickled down her cheek.

  ‘What? Who’s Michael?’ the policeman asked.

  Mum waved him away and squeezed Poppy’s hand. ‘We’ll talk about it later, OK?’

  She nodded, sniffed back the tears and took a deep breath.

  ‘Michael is Poppy’s best friend from home, Sergeant,’ Mum said, before he could ask again. ‘It’s got nothing to do with your case.’

  ‘Right. OK. So, Poppy, am I getting this right? You think that Beth came here looking for Maya, but actually found out that she was murdered by someone, and that person realised that she knew, and murdered her too?’

  ‘Yeah. I think so.’

  ‘And this Kane guy...?’

  Poppy hesitated. Was she sure? She had no real proof. But she’d been keeping so many secrets for so long that she just wanted to get it all out of her. It was up to the police to figure out if she was right or not. ‘I can’t prove it, but how could he know for sure if he didn’t do it?’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me any of this?’

  ‘I did try! Remember?’

  The detective nodded and avoided her gaze. ‘Right then, I’m going to send for the boss and then I want you to go through all of that again, slowly. And then I need you to promise me that you won’t ask anyone any more questions.’

  As soon as the detective left, Mum turned to her.

  ‘What happened?’ she asked.

  But before Poppy could answer, the flap opened, letting in a flash of light, and Michael popped his head in. ‘How did it go?’

  Mum smiled sadly. ‘Should I leave you two to talk?’

  Poppy could do no more than shrug.

  Mum got to her feet and waved him in. ‘Come in, Michael, before the police get back.’

  ‘They’re coming back?’

  ‘Don’t act like you weren’t listening out there,’ Poppy said.

  Michael smiled. ‘I would have, but I had to go and be interviewed.’ He slumped down onto the ground mat and waited for Mum to leave.

  Poppy wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees.

  ‘I’m sorry I left like that yesterday,’ Michael said.

  ‘No, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Are you?’ The shaft of light from the tipi’s oculus cut across his face, making his eyes appear unnaturally blue. They stared steadily back at her, refusing to look away.

  ‘I’m sorry it upset you.’ He’d never know how sorry. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve wrecked things.’

  ‘Why did you wait until I was seeing someone? You must have known that—’

  ‘—Must have known what? That it was a monumentally bad idea? Yeah, I’ve got that now.’ Poppy focused her eyes on a clump of grass someone had trodden in. She wasn’t going to cry. She refused to cry.

  ‘No! You must have known that I liked you. That I waited... Years, and you never showed any interest in being anything more than friends. You were always going on about the guy from the newsagents, or the guy from the garage. Meanwhile I couldn’t get past first base with a girl because they all assumed I was going out with you!’

  What? She must have misheard... Her head snapped up. Michael stared back at her. His face was tight, as if every muscle was stretched to breaking point but his gaze was soft, like he was willing her to believe him.

  ‘But – Julia?’

  ‘Julia only went out with me because I got drunk and moaned to her about you treating me like your annoying younger brother!’

  ‘But you’re older than me.’

  ‘I know! A year and two fucking months older!’ Michael’s face broke into a smile. ‘Do you really think that you could wind me up like this if I didn’t care about you?’

  Poppy shook her head. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. All this time he’d wanted her too?

  A bleeping noise sent Michael searching his pockets for his phone. He looked at the screen and frowned.

  ‘Who is it?’ she asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

  Michael raised his gaze to meet hers. ‘I’m supposed to be helping set up the party.’

  ‘Right.’ She bit her lip and nodded. ‘Julia.’

  ‘What do you expect me to do? Tell her I can’t go to her eighteenth because I’m here having a heart-to-heart with you?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘You think I should dump her on her birthday? When this could be a three-minute wonder?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You. You spend a year making me feel like you don’t want me near you, and then you say you love me. How do I know that this is what you really feel? Are you even sure yourself? I mean, God, Poppy, you dumped this on me and then spent the night with that guy.’

  ‘I didn’t spend the night with him!’

  ‘OK. But you do know what he is, what he does?’

  ‘How do you know...?’

  He swallowed and kneaded his hands. ‘I saw him the other day – looked like he was meeting his supplier.’

  ‘And you didn’t think to tell me?’

  ‘I didn’t want you to think I was trying to break you up. And then you landed your bombshell and it didn’t really seem like the right time.’ He rubbed his forehead. ‘Look, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can do this right now.’ He got to his feet and pushed open the flap of the tipi.

  ‘Are you leaving again?’

  ‘I just need some space. And so do you. I’ll give you a ring next week some time.’

  Next week? She’d never gone a week without talking to him since they started secondary school. What was she supposed to do? It was the summer holidays. And he had her dog!

  ‘What about Dawkins?’

  ‘I’ll get Mum to drop him round.’ With that he slipped through the flap and was gone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Poppy stood at the bottom of the wobbly metal steps and watched Tariq. She should have known he was too good to be true. He’d fed her a line and she’d swallowed it, hook, line and sinker. She was so naive. Just like she’d been with Michael. For two whole minutes in the tipi she’d thought it might all be OK. And then he’d left. And now she had no idea what was going on.

  Tariq was too busy furiously scrubbing the stainless steel worktop to notice her. A deep line cut between his wild eyebrows and he was holding the Brillo pad so tightly that his knuckles shone pale.

  Even if he was a dealer, he was a darned cute one. A part of her couldn’t believe that he was even interested in her. Maybe seducing innocent schoolgirls was a bit of a thrill. Well, after spending another hour and a half in the company of Detective Sergeant Grant and his boss, she’d picked up a few interrogation techniques and she had some questions for Tariq.

  Tariq straightened up and flung the Brillo pad at the worktop, cursing under his breath. Just then he saw her. He spun around, his mouth hanging open with not so much as a hello.

  ‘Thought you might want to buy me an aubergine burger,’ Poppy said. ‘Your treat, seeing as you can afford it.’

  She walked away and left him fumbling with his apron strings.

  In thirty seconds he was there beside her. They walked among the falafel and crepe vans. Poppy didn’t speak. That would make it too easy for him and she wasn’t in the mood to make life easy for any guy. Instead, she pretended to take great interest in each and every one of the menu boards. Tariq didn’t speak either, he just followed her around like a lost puppy. Eventually, after she’d spent a good five minutes umming and ahhing over the menu of Al’s Jamaican-Continental Diner, Tariq stepped between her and the chalkboard.

  ‘Look, I�
�m sorry!’

  ‘Are you trying to get out of me buying dinner? Man, that’s cheap for someone who earns...what? What does a dealer earn?’

  Tariq glanced around nervously. ‘OK, I deserved that, but can you keep your voice down?’

  ‘Why?’ She carried on her journey down the food aisle. ‘Maybe that’s what you’re lacking – a really good marketing strategy. I mean, if you’re gonna do good business, people need to know that you’re the guy with the high. That’s it! We could paint a new sign for the burger van. Tariq – The Guy with the High! I think it’s catchy.’

  A hand grabbed her wrist. Hard. And before she could object, she was being dragged towards the woods.

  The afternoon sun had waned. It would be dark in the woods. Lonely.

  She tried to yank out of his grip but he had tight hold of her and he wasn’t letting go.

  ‘Get off me!’ Suddenly she was frightened.

  He stopped abruptly. She bumped smack into him.

  ‘You obviously have things to say,’ he said quietly, ‘which is fine, but do you mind if we go somewhere a bit more private so when you bawl me out the whole festival doesn’t hear?’

  He let go of her wrist and she rubbed the throbbing indentations he’d left behind.

  Her heartbeat slowed to a normal rhythm and she was about to tell him where to get off, when she noticed that he was staring at her wrist. His cheeks reddened. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He took a tentative step towards her. His hand reached out towards hers.

  ‘Poppy, God, I’m—’

  ‘—Whatever,’ she muttered.

  She headed into the shadow of the trees. Immediately the temperature dropped by several degrees. She couldn’t stop herself from shivering. She was aware of Tariq’s footsteps behind her and the voices of the food sellers on the vans. As long as she could hear them, they’d hear her, she told herself. Even if Tariq was unlikely to hurt her, she wasn’t totally stupid. She stopped and turned to face him, folding her arms, and giving him a ‘So?’ look.

  Tariq shoved his hands in his pockets. He didn’t look at her. He kicked at some rotting pinecones from last year’s drop.

  ‘I told you I wasn’t doing what I wanted to do,’ he muttered.

  ‘All that stuff about you being a law student, about your dad leaving, was that all lies?’

  He shook his head. ‘That was all true.’

  ‘You needed money so you thought you’d try your luck on the other side of the law, huh?’

  He sighed. ‘Yes. But I didn’t exactly plan it. There was a guy. He—’

  ‘—And you couldn’t get a job in McDonald’s like everyone else?’

  He looked at her from beneath his heavy brow and his lip curled in an unwilling smile. ‘In case you haven’t noticed, I did that too.’

  ‘Are you taking drugs?’

  He glared at her. ‘Do I look like an idiot?’

  ‘But it’s OK to push the stuff to other people?’

  ‘I’m not a pusher!’ He shook his head in denial. ‘I don’t force anyone to take anything. I sell to adults who are entitled to make their own decisions. In some countries you can buy what I sell in pharmacies!’

  ‘We don’t live in those countries.’

  Tariq rolled his eyes. ‘You really want to stand here and debate the Controlled Substances Act?’

  ‘No. I want to know what you sold to Beth.’

  That had his attention. He rubbed a hand over his top lip, then stepped closer and lowered his voice as if the trees might be listening. ‘Poppy, I didn’t...’

  ‘That’s why you’ve been so worried, isn’t it? That’s why you didn’t want me asking questions. You were worried that your merchandise might have killed her.’

  Again, he stepped forward, closing the gap between them. He was so close, his eyes so dark, so serious.

  Poppy’s pulse ticked in her temple. Her throat ran dry and for the first time she was aware of how much stronger he was than her. If he did want to hurt her he could do it. Hell, if he wanted to kill her, all he’d have to do was squeeze.

  ‘You have no idea what you’re messing with.’

  ‘Then you’d better tell me.’

  His chest rose and fell with increasing speed, but still he said nothing.

  ‘That’s the trouble with drugs, isn’t it? Most of the time it’s fine. People have their little trips and they come back down to earth safely.’ Beth’s face floated before her. Drowned and dead. ‘But sometimes they end up in the lake, don’t they? You have no clue what you’re buying – what you’re selling on to people.’

  Tariq stared at her, silently.

  ‘If you don’t tell me, I’m going straight to the police.’ She almost meant it.

  ‘No you’re not.’

  She held his gaze. ‘Watch me.’

  He looked away first. ‘OK – OK! I sold her an E. What do you want me to do? You want me to go and hand myself in?’

  She sighed, not knowing whether she was relieved or sad. All she knew was that she felt washed out. ‘No. I don’t want you to hand yourself in.’

  ‘Was it...did it kill her? Is that what they’re saying?’ His eyes were wide and panicked.

  ‘It wasn’t your fault, Tariq. They found the drugs in her system, but that wasn’t what killed her. She was murdered.’

  He rubbed his hands over his face and blew out a long slow breath. ‘You’re sure?’

  Poppy nodded.

  He put his hands on his hips and squeezed his eyes shut. ‘Thank fuck for that. I thought maybe...’

  ‘You don’t have to worry about it. But they’re going to be looking for whoever sold it. Maybe you should do yourself a favour and get out of here.’

  She turned to leave.

  ‘Wait! Poppy – I know I’m not what you thought I was, but I’m not a bad guy. All that stuff I told you was true. And I like you.’ He stepped closer. His hand slid into her hair. ‘A lot.’

  ‘It’s not what you do that’s the problem – I mean, it is – but...’

  She didn’t get a chance to say anything else. His mouth was on hers, preventing any sound from getting out. He kissed her until she stopped struggling, then he nipped her bottom lip just hard enough to make her gasp. As he turned his attention to her neck, she couldn’t stop her hands from sliding into his hair.

  Her heart was beating so hard, her stomach so squirmy and her legs so jittery that she almost didn’t stop him from one-handedly unbuttoning her jeans and pushing the denim over her hip. But his warm touch to the bare skin of her back was like a bucket of cold water over her head. She got both hands on his chest and shoved him away.

  ‘No way!’ she gasped.

  He gave her a slightly confused, slightly amused look.

  ‘You think you can distract me like that?’

  ‘Seemed to be working,’ he said, moving towards her.

  Poppy held out a hand to prevent him from picking up where he’d left off.

  He sighed. ‘It’s that guy, Michael, isn’t it?’

  ‘No!’ She’d had so much practice that the lie slipped out easily. She took a deep breath. ‘Yes, it’s Michael.’

  ‘It’s pretty obvious he’s in love with you.’

  ‘He’s got a girlfriend.’

  Tariq narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Were you using me to try and make him jealous?’

  ‘Of course not!’

  ‘Well, it’s worked. I’m surprised he hasn’t punched me yet.’

  ‘Michael’s got a very beautiful girlfriend. And I don’t think he really does love me. I mean, I know he loves me. But I’m not sure he loves me the way I love him. Maybe he did at some point. But I think I blew it.’

  ‘I wouldn’t bet on it. He’s spent a lot of time driving over here t
o see you.’

  ‘He’s like that.’

  ‘If you say so.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  Tariq shrugged. He was right on top of her again. His arms slipped around her waist. He smiled wickedly and kissed her cheek.

  ‘Don’t you care that I like someone else?’ she gasped.

  ‘You might be in love with him, Poppy, but you fancy me,’ he whispered. ‘And I’ll take what I can get.’ His hot breath tickled her ear. Damn her stomach, and legs, and every other part of her that was tingling. She kept her gaze averted. She wasn’t going to be drawn into this madness by beautiful almond-shaped eyes with irises the colour of rich chocolate. Damn it, she wasn’t this easily manipulated!

  ‘Poppy? Poppy?’ His lips quirked to one side into the cutest darned lopsided grin she’d ever seen.

  ‘Tariq, don’t...’ As his lips brushed against hers and turned her legs to water, there was the crack of a tree branch snapping. She pushed him away and spun around. ‘What was that?’

  ‘What was what?’

  ‘Police!’ a voice called from the darkness.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Poppy glanced at Tariq. His cheeks had paled and his mouth hung open like he was about to start singing a few verses of Jail House Rock.

  He leaned into her. ‘Did you...?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ she whispered back.

  From the gloom between the trees, two burly policemen in flak jackets lumbered into the clearing.

  One held up his warrant card. ‘Can I ask your names, please?’

  Was she about to be arrested for illicit snogging? ‘Poppy Sinclair. What’s going on?’

  ‘Tariq Nasheed.’

  ‘Have either of you seen this guy?’ The taller policeman held up a picture of a guy with a shaved head and a smooth skull-like face. There was no green tuft, and there was a hardness in his eyes she’d never seen before, but it was definitely Kane.

  Her heart leapt into her throat. ‘What’s happened? Where is he?’

  ‘We want to talk to him but he seems to have left the site.’

  ‘You mean you don’t know where he is?’ Poppy’s stomach lurched. Kane was out there. And if he’d run, that meant he was guilty, right?