by Anne Lown
She walked along the path in the direction of Jason’s place. Even though she delivered the post, she hadn’t been inside his house in quite a while. The friendship developing between him and Scott had pushed her out. They’d gone out together to the pubs in Bishop, but she hadn’t been invited due to the nature of their fun. A good punch-up after an evening of getting drunk hadn’t been her thing, and they both new it. Jenny sighed. It seemed her need for independence had backfired on her closest relationships.
She slowed her footsteps the nearer she got to his home. The memory of her kissing Jason the evening before pushed its way into her mind. She’d been giddy with possibilities.
Would I really have got back with him?
Jenny pushed the thoughts away and made herself walk up his garden path. She stood at his front door with her hand raised in a fist, hesitant about knocking. She had to remind herself why she was there. Scott’s needs were more important in that moment; he was the one currently being questioned at the police station, and she had to find out the facts.
Something stirred in the corner of her vision down by the road. She turned her head as someone approached. It was Jason. He was clothed in his normal attire, the material of his open trench coat flying out around him with each gust of wind. His hands were thrust deep in his jeans pockets, his shoulders hunched as though he was cold.
“Coming to see me?”
Jenny nodded. “I need to speak to you, it’s about Scott.”
He raised his chin slightly and brushed past her on the way to the back garden gate at the side of the house. He never used the front door. Years of living with his uncle, who’d had a habit of leaving the back door unlocked, were ingrained. She followed Jason through the gate and waited to be asked inside the house. Her gaze ran over the garden; it was improving since he’d moved in. His uncle had never been interested in making things pleasant, but at least Jason was putting that right.
“Aren’t you coming in?” His forehead was wrinkled, and he didn’t seem so confident now the Dutch courage from the pub had worn off. It appeared being in her company was quite different when he was sober.
Jenny stepped over the threshold and into the kitchen. She waited while he busied about with the kettle and retrieved cups from the draining board. Not a word was exchanged between them until he picked up a cup of coffee in each hand and nodded towards the living room. He walked off in front of her, his concentration on the drinks and holding them steady. Jenny bit her bottom lip. Her stomach still quivered, and it was making her feel sick. She blew out a breath and traipsed after him.
She gazed about the room. The packing boxes that had sat for months at the far end of the room were gone, opening up the floor space. Everything was arranged in its place, and it felt homely.
“This is cosy,” she said.
Jenny sat on the sofa and reached her hands up to receive the cup. She had to rotate it to grasp hold of the handle on release. Her fingers burned, the heat radiating through the ceramic, turning the skin red.
“Well, it was about time I’d unpacked. It’s starting to feel like mine at last. Just got to decorate now. Shame I’ve not got much money for the paint.” He sat beside her, his body angled in her direction and his knee brushing hers.
Jenny sipped at the scolding liquid, her teeth clunking against the rim and a small amount escaping onto her chin. She wiped it away with the back of her free hand, hoping he hadn’t noticed how tense she was. She knew coming here would be hard, but she hadn’t anticipated her bodily reaction to being alone with him again. The excitement of last night was nowhere to be seen, and she was back to feeling angry and betrayed.
Why can’t I just let it go?
She’d been asking herself that question for a while. So far there wasn’t an answer. Jenny rubbed her hand over the top of her thigh, the muscles beneath her jeans solid. She brought her mind back to the conversation. She’d come here for a reason, she might as well get on with it.
“Why don’t you apply to be a postman? Even part-time would give you something to live on, and I know they are looking for more staff.”
“Maybe,” he said. “Anyway, what was it you wanted?”
“Did you hear what happened last night? A man was murdered in the woods, and the police have taken Scott in for an interview.”
“You’re joking.” Jason ran his fingers through his hair, but somehow Jenny found the gesture fake.
“You knew, didn’t you?”
Jason tugged at his ear and lowered his gaze. “Okay,” he said, “yeah, I knew. But just before I got home. Ran into Nick in the street, and he told me about it.”
“You know Nick? How?”
“We grew up together, he comes from here. Told me his mate found the body, the same bloke we were fighting with at the pub. I thought it best to deny everything.”
Jenny couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Jason was going to deny it. To who? The police? “You do realise the position Scott’s in? He could be found guilty of murder.”
“Don’t be stupid, he’s innocent.”
“Really, you think innocent people don’t go to prison? Happens more than it should. Where the hell was he last night?” Jenny’s voice was rising. She couldn’t believe the naivety Jason showed. What was it with these men? Didn’t they get how serious a situation it was?
He held his hand up, palm facing her. “All right, I don’t know where he was. Said he knew someone with some weed and asked if I wanted to tag along. I didn’t cos it’s bad for my mind, so I went back to the pub.”
“Where did he go?”
“I’ve no idea. Like I said, I didn’t stay with him. Got chatting with a woman called Colette, a right goer, she was.”
The smirk on his face told her he’d scored a one-night stand. The thought had her cringing. To think she’d considered getting back with him! Now she wondered what the hell she could’ve been thinking.
“Who might know? Was there anyone he spoke to before he went off?”
Jason shrugged. It seemed his usefulness had come to an end. Someone in the village must know who Scott had gone to see, and it had to be a local because he hadn’t gone back to his home in Bishop. Jenny drained the last of her cooling drink and stood. She adjusted the back of her jeans where they had slid down from sitting and walked towards the hallway, only stopping because Jason spoke.
“Where are you going?”
She turned to face him. “Come with me. I need to speak to someone who’s camping. You can help.”
Jason stared at her like she was mad. She glared back.
Bloody men! Never there for you when you need them.
“Okay.” He sighed. “I’ll get my coat.”
It hadn’t passed her by that the police would’ve cordoned off the area where the body had been found. She hoped the officers had not stumbled upon the campers. If the tents were still somewhere close by then the owners might be, too.
Jason trudged along beside her, seemingly irritated by the small groups of people hanging about on the pavements. He made a show of having to step off the curb to walk around them and grumbling to himself. Jenny chose to ignore his behaviour. After all, Scott was his friend, too. Down the street there was activity in amongst the police vehicles. It would have been easy to follow the trail through that opening to the woods, but there was no way they would be allowed to. They were going to have to find another way in.
They skirted the periphery and the many onlookers still hanging about in the cold. Some had taken to stomping their feet and shoving their hands deep into their pockets. They made it appear worse than it was, but then most had been there since the early morning.
“Don’t they ever go home?”
Jenny glared at Jason. The last thing they needed was him calling attention to where they were going. She nudged her elbow into his ribs, getting an overacted wince in return. They followed the path that led away along the lane and headed to where she used to go running. There was a stile they could climb over int
o the farmers field and onto a path that led to the woods from a different direction. She had no intention of going into the trees until they had walked a good distance along its perimeter and towards the valley below.
They made sure no one saw them duck behind the hedgerow. The ground was hardening beneath their feet, the lumps and bumps of the soil more pronounced from the cold. Neither talked until they were far enough away from the village and had found a suitable point of entry. Jenny let Jason lead. She might have been in the woods a few times, but his knowledge from growing up there had to be better.
“Pete said the tents were in a clearing somewhere between the trees.”
Jason nodded. “I know where that is, follow me.”
The trail meandered, flanked by the odd fallen tree knocked over in the spring storms that’d been cut up and moved aside from where they’d blocked the route. Farther in they were left in place, either on the ground or leaning against others. Gusts rattled the leaves that hadn’t yet fallen from the branches overhead. Jenny shivered. She enjoyed being surrounded by nature, but today it didn’t feel the same. The smell of earth and foliage was tinged by a recently dead fire. They were downwind from the clearing and must be getting close.
Jason slowed his pace and put out his hand behind him. Jenny slipped her fingers between his, locking their hands together. She licked her lips, aware her heartrate had increased, but not from the walking. She swallowed, her gaze darting through the trees, watching for any signs of movement. She saw none. Maybe they were making a mistake. It was not unheard of for the killer to hang around a crime scene, not all of them ran and hid. She placed her free hand on Jason’s biceps and held on tight.
They carried on together, stepping closer to the clearing, the trees parting and giving them a better view. They were too late. From just beyond the boundary, the police had already found the campsite without Pete’s help. The area was cordoned off, but none of the equipment she’d expected to see was there. It seemed the campers had left during the night, probably packed up immediately after scaring him and Faye away.
Now what do I do? How do I work out who the campers were?
Jason sighed. “Let’s go back.”
Jenny nodded. There was nothing to see here and no chance of getting closer to where the man had died. Jason turned to go back the way they’d come, his foot knocking against hers. She glanced down to watch where she placed her feet because their hands were still linked. She pivoted on one foot and brought her other one around it in time to spot something on the ground. Jenny tugged on his hand.
“Hold on, I think I’ve found something.”
She crouched to take a better look at what appeared to be a couple of discarded self-rolled cigarette butts. Jason followed her movement and squatted beside her. He reached out to pick one up, but Jenny stopped him.
“That might be evidence. They appear to be fresh, and that might mean someone was stood right here watching the camp.”
It would’ve been a help if she conveniently had something to put them in, but that not being the case, she used a twig to nudge them onto a fallen leaf. It was the best she could do, and then she wrapped it all up in a clean tissue from her pocket. She didn’t know what the find meant, but maybe the campers were not involved in the man’s death. Only time would tell if they found out more information.
“What are you doing?” Jason clearly hadn’t caught on to what she was thinking.
“I’m collecting it. There could be DNA or fingerprints the police could use. It might be a vital witness to who was here and what happened.”
“Or they were the killer,” Jason said.
Jenny flicked her gaze to his face. He appeared worried, too, his intense stare making that clear to her.
“Let’s go back to mine,” she said. “I’ll get these to George in the morning.”
After taking one last scan of the area, Jenny let Jason lead her out of the woods the way they’d come in. If she was able to help prove someone else had been near the murder, then it might help Scott get out of the predicament he was in.
*******
Dan waited for the couple to leave before he climbed down from the tree he’d been perched in. It hadn’t been an easy task getting up there in the first place. He’d had to stretch to hook his hands over the first branch and walked up the trunk until he was hanging horizontal. He’d shifted one foot, placing it on top of a stump coming off a nearby tree before releasing a hand to reach for a second branch and then heaving himself onto it. Each movement had been planned, making sure he’d had three points of his body in contact with surfaces at all times. Once safely on the branch, he’d rested.
You are one step away from death.
It was the mantra of climbers. It reminded him to be careful and only switch his hands and feet to secure locations. Dan had picked a challenge. To rise farther he’d had to push his hand into a crevice in the trunk and then ball it into a fist to secure himself while he reached up again for the next branch. He’d been conscious of his centre of gravity, being careful not to lean too far out in case he’d slipped.
Shane had stayed on the ground, watching his progress, ready to come to his rescue if anything went wrong. They’d been putting their bushcraft skills to good use. From up high he’d had a chance to survey the clearing from a vantage point because hardly anyone ever looked up. Good job he had. It was when he’d got to the top that the couple approached and he was able to signal to Shane to hide. His friend had scarpered and dived out of sight behind bushes farther back and stayed there until Dan showed him that the coast was clear.
After they’d scared away the intruders during the late evening, they hadn’t stuck around to collect all their things. They’d taken what they could carry, mainly backpacks and anything deemed too valuable to leave. The tents would take a long time to dismantle the way Shane went about it, so the equipment had been left in the hope it wouldn’t be found.
Dan scanned the area. Police tape was strung around the clearing, and the last of their stuff was gone.
Now with his feet firmly on terra firma, he turned around on Shane’s approach, swinging his fist at his biceps, his friend yelping in pain.
“Hey, that hurt.” Shane rubbed at his arm.
“What did they pick up?”
“Just dog ends from yesterday. They were in my pocket, so I ditched them.”
“You did what?” Dan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Did they have weed in them?”
“Yeah, but not much. I was keeping it light.”
Dan paced the small area where he’d been standing. This was worse than the time they’d had free tickets to a music festival from Maxwell’s roadie father. No sooner had they arrived than Shane had thought it a good idea to try to stroke the police dog standing with two officers. It reacted immediately. They’d agreed not to carry any grass on them that day, but he’d left an empty bag in his wallet for some mad reason known only to himself. Of course, he’d been challenged but was let go because it’d been empty and he’d nothing else on him. Dan shouldn’t be surprised his friend had dropped the ends of his roaches at a murder scene, all covered in his DNA.
“You ever been arrested?”
Shane furrowed his brow. “No, why?”
“Because the tent has your blood on it, fingerprints, probably that knife we couldn’t find, and now they’ll have your fag ends, too.”
“Shit, we’d better get them back.”
Dan marched off in the same direction he’d seen the couple walk. He knew where they were going to come out from the woods, he’d been that way himself many times on his long runs with his other friend, Alex. If they wanted to get the butts back, they’d have to do it before the couple got to the village. The desire to mug someone hadn’t been on his bucket list, but Shane had just slapped it on there. He had no plan, so the pair of them would have to improvise.
*******
A sound snapped behind her, and Jenny turned her head to see what it was while Jason marc
hed on in front, clearly oblivious to anything untoward. The movement of two men approaching fast filled her vision. She sucked in a sharp breath through her open mouth, her body flinching in response to the determined expression on the taller one’s face. Blind panic exploded inside. She swung her torso away from the impending danger and forced her feet to move faster, sprinting past Jason.
“Run.” The word was shouted, it was all she could think of.
Jenny didn’t look back. The thuds of shoes hit the solid mud behind her.
Please be Jason.
She pumped her arms at her sides. Lactic acid was fast building in her thighs, and a stitch tore into her abdomen. It had been a while since she’d been out for her daily exercise, instead using the walking she did as a postwoman for a substitute. Right that minute she dearly wished she hadn’t.
Fearing the worst, she glanced over her shoulder. The sight that greeted her wasn’t good. Jason was far down the track. He was fighting with the smaller of the pair while the other was gaining on her. She sobbed, but it was no use. The man grabbed the back of her jacket, breaking her stride, and she flailed to the ground. He flung himself on top of her and pawed at her clothing, his hands rooting through her pockets
He wants the fag butts.
She shoved her hand into her inside jacket pocket and grabbed them, holding them up for the man to take. He snatched the tiny parcel from her fingers and thrust himself away from her, breaking into a sprint back along the track. Jason made a lunge for him, but he was sidestepped with ease and dispatched with a body blow. By the time he’d picked himself up, the pair had disappeared back into the woods.
