Parcels of Doom (Chapel End Mysteries, #1)

by Lown, Anne

  The time passed, and Jenny nearly forgot why they were there—that was until the weather-beaten man from the other evening in the pub arrived and Jenny made the connection to who he was. This was the Ben from the security pass. He nodded to Sarah on entry but didn’t go over to the table. Instead, he walked to the other end of the bar and disappeared into the men’s toilets. Everyone watched him go, tension building between them. Martin and Jason didn’t know the reason they’d gathered, but it was clear to Jenny both men had an inkling something was going on.

  Scott cleared his throat, fighting to regain his audience, but he was beaten to it. The main door opened again, and Emma stepped inside. Jenny gasped at the sight of her. It was a shock to see how dishevelled she looked. The woman must’ve been drinking since the afternoon and hadn’t stopped when she’d become the worse for wear.

  Emma swayed in the doorway, squinting as she tried to survey the people in the room. At first, it seemed she hadn’t seen the one she’d come for, muttering something under her breath. Then her eyes widened, and she leaned forward to get a better look—it was obvious she was now sure she’d found her prey. She staggered, almost falling over a chair that hadn’t been in her way in the first place, her mouth contorting out of control.

  It took Jenny a few seconds before she comprehended what was about to happen. Emma had spotted Jason on the other side of Scott at the bar. She made a wonky beeline for him, rage clearly simmering until she got there.

  “You can’t reject me,” the words slurred from her mouth.

  At first, it appeared Jason didn’t realise she was talking to him. He glanced at the others nearby, panic on his face. He recovered quickly, straightening himself from his slouched over position.

  Jenny could see the hairs prickle on the back of his neck. She had no idea how he’d cope with Emma, especially with his emotions so recently in tatters. She knew he wouldn’t have a problem dealing with the drunken Emma physically, but the tirade that came out of her mouth was something else.

  “I know what you did. I know you killed her. You can’t reject me, I’ll tell everyone you did it.” Emma’s arms swayed in an unsteady arc in front of her in an attempt to point out the guilty party.

  It was clear to everyone Jason had been suspected in Annalise’s death, so they all knew who she was talking to.

  “Go home, Emma,” he said.

  “No. You did it. I can prove it, I know where the diaries are. I’m going to get them and give them to the police.”

  The rant wasn’t having the desired effect. The look on Jason’s face was of a wounded animal, not an angry killer hoping to hide his crime. At that moment, Jenny’s heart panged for him, and she nudged Scott to intervene.

  He took the hint and stepped in front of Emma. “Come on now, no need for all this.” He put on his most charming smile, but it totally went over the drunken woman’s head.

  She leaned to the side to get a better fix on her enemy. “You did it, I can prove it.”

  The ranting must have triggered something inside him, because the crumbling Jason suddenly surged with anger. “No, you can’t. It’s all because I won’t go out with you.”

  Emma’s face contorted even more when her attention fell on Jenny. She jabbed a finger in her direction. “It’s that bitch. You want her, don’t you? I’ll make you pay for this.”

  Jason’s voice rose, his fists clenched by his sides. “Get out of my sight before I hurt you.”

  Everyone except Emma stared agog at Jason, his temper flaring up out of control. Rage seemed to pulse through his body, his muscles spasming into rock. Even Scott stepped aside on seeing the change in his demeanour. The one and only time he’d fought him, he’d lost badly. That could’ve been put down to the amount of alcohol he’d drunk before turning up at Jenny’s new home and trying to break in, but even he knew when someone possessed skills he didn’t have.

  Emma didn’t get the hint. Instead, his words incensed her. “Hurt me? Hurt me? Like you did to Annalise? Going to kill me, are you?”

  It was then Jason bit, saying the words Jenny didn’t want to hear. “I’ll kill you if you don’t stay away from me.”

  He stepped forward, shortening the gap between them, when Ben crashed out from the men’s toilets at the other end of the room. He strode towards the group, his jaw set hard and his eyes fixed on the exit.

  A connection was made in Jenny’s head. She remembered why they’d come to the pub in the first place. Before she could ask him about his security pass turning up in her bedroom, Ben grabbed hold of Emma by her upper left arm and dragged her away from the bar. She lashed out at him, clawing at the furniture and pulling chairs over in her wake, but he overpowered her, and they both left by the main door.

  Silence filled the room. No one spoke, probably not sure if she’d return or even if Ben would. To Jenny, it was the most bizarre thing she’d ever seen.

  Eventually, Scott broke the silence. “What the hell?”

  Both Jason and Scott turned around and leant against the bar, each picking up their pint. Shock still ran through Jenny. Her heart pounded, sweat forming on her upper lip. She wiped it away with the sleeve of her jumper and picked up her drink. Her hand shook when she lifted it to her mouth, sipping carefully so her teeth didn’t break the fragile glass. Again, the wine stung her lip.

  Martin, the only one of them apparently not rocked by the encounter, laughed. Jenny snorted, the liquid bubbling over and running down her chin. It had the desired effect, destressing the moment, and they all joined in.

  Over in the corner, Sarah and Graham sat watching what went on. To Jenny, it seemed no one noticed the two people in wheelchairs. It was like they were invisible to the rest of the world. Jenny could see the genius of them being there. She’d catch up with Sarah the next day after work to find out what she’d say.

  When the laughing died down, Jenny was the first to speak. “Do you think it’s true? Does Emma know where the other diaries are?”

  It was something she needed to know, as someone thought they were in her house—that was the impression she’d got from the writing on the living room wall.

  Scott put his pint down, not that there was much left. “Are you thinking it’s Emma who broke in?”

  “Maybe,” she said. “She’s the one who’s certain about them.”

  She looked at Jason. He stood staring into his empty glass, not saying a word. He seemed to be alone in his own little world, but then it’d become a pattern with him. While he’d seemed like a knight in shining armour the first day they’d met, he’d now turned into a damaged man in need of protecting by any woman who cared to take up the task. Jenny felt torn. Jason was the type of man she went for, a tortured soul, but wasn’t he also the exact type she was trying to get away from? She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t turn her back on him, not after all she’d invested in him so far. Jenny sighed to herself, and there lay the conundrum.

  The discussion carried on the rest of the evening. They waited to see if Ben would return once he’d dealt with Emma, maybe placing her somewhere safe where she’d do no harm, but he didn’t. Eventually, they called it a night and left the pub. Scott and Jenny walked Jason home, leaving Martin chatting with Tracy. She’d disappeared when the drama had started and had been slow to return to serve her customers. It seemed like he was trying to calm her down. Jenny wondered if it was about her husband and the bruises she’d gained. Whatever it was, Jenny hadn’t listened properly due to the scenes whirling around her mind. It had been an eventful evening.

  Scott and Jason were deep in conversation, so she trundled along behind them. They were behaving like best mates, and even though it was really weird, she didn’t want to interfere. She’d ask Scott about it when they got home.

  Jason called over his shoulder, “Coming in for coffee?”

  Jenny was stunned by the invitation. She glanced at the sky to see if there was a full moon. Maybe Carmie’s witchcraft was rubbing off on people. “Sure,” she said, “w
hy not.”

  Scott followed Jason through to the kitchen and made himself at home. He winked at her, clearly enjoying her discomfort being in both their presence. She was going to have to slap him later for it.

  “So,” she said, “what was all that about? Why’s she sure you killed Annalise?”

  Scott cringed when she asked her question. Jenny gave him a stern look in return. They were, after all, trying to find out what was going on.

  “She’s got a thing for me, always has had.”

  Scott shifted in his seat, obviously not quite believing they were going to talk about it. “You can say that again. Really seemed like she’s got the hots for you.”

  Jenny glared at him. He might close Jason down with his sarcastic remarks.

  “She wanted me to drop Annalise for her. She wouldn’t accept we’re just good friends. Everyone thought we’re dating, but we weren’t. She couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t go out with her, but I really didn’t want to. She’s just not my type.”

  “So why’s she so sure she knows where the diaries are? She seems to think they’ll prove you guilty,” Jenny said.

  Jason busied himself making coffees for the three of them. They had to wait until he’d finished before he spoke again. “If she knew where they were, she’d have them. If she had them, she would’ve shown me or the police, so I don’t believe her at all.”

  That was a fair point. If Emma knew where the diaries were, she would’ve done her best to prove him guilty. Then there was the writing on her wall. The diaries had to be well hidden, or the intruder would’ve found them. Something about the whole situation didn’t seem right, but she just didn’t know what it was.

  “What about Ben?” Jenny observed the other two to gauge their reactions. Both had a blank face. “Don’t you think it’s odd how he turns up and walks straight to the toilets, then stays there before bursting out and escorting Emma from the room?”

  “Now you put it like that...” Scott said. “Does he know her well?”

  Jason nodded. “They’re cousins. He was here when Annalise died.”

  “But how’d he know she’d be in the pub? Maybe someone told him?”

  The three of them sat and thought while they sipped their coffee. Jenny didn’t know what had gone on between the two men when she’d been in the pub with Martin, but their getting along was growing on her. Scott paying an interest helped. She felt safer than she had on her own.

  “The one thing we haven’t mentioned is why someone would kill Paul?” Scott carried on sipping his coffee, but he was right. Paul had got lost in the drama. He’d died, and all anyone talked about was the death of Annalise Jessop.

  “I was the last person to speak to him that I know of,” she said. “We were in the pub, and I was trying to find out why he was asking questions. He couldn’t tell me much because the person who’d hired him had done it anonymously.”

  “Don’t you find that strange?”

  Jenny nodded, so did Jason. Whoever had paid him to investigate didn’t want to be known, not even by him. He would’ve kept that confidential, that would’ve been part of his contract, but still, someone didn’t trust him with their identity.

  Scott was on a roll. “So who d’you think is likely to have paid Paul to do it?”

  All three glanced at each other, and all three came out with the same name. “Emma.”

  “Why would she do that?” Jenny couldn’t understand a woman being so fixated on a guy she’d want to destroy him. What a scary way to behave.

  “What about speaking to DS George in the morning, see if he’d be interested in her outburst this evening?” Scott was being incredibly ordinary for him; it was a mature suggestion.

  “Okay,” Jason said. “I’ll phone him tomorrow and ask him to come over for a chat.”

  Jenny glanced at her watch. It was nearly midnight, and she had to work in the morning. She’d go and see Carmie on her delivery route, find out how Emma was after her evening of histrionics. It was the least she could do for a fellow suffering female with man issues. Carmie would know all about it by then and would have calmed her down. Emma might even regret her outburst and be cringing in her office, not wanting to show her face in public again. All Jenny knew was something had to be done about the absurd accusations flying around the village. A man had lost someone dear to him, and another man had lost his life investigating it.

  They strolled home in silence. The streetlights had gone off, so they had to concentrate where they were placing their feet. Occasionally, a porch light from the houses they passed flicked on to give them some relief. Gently, she slipped her hand into Scott’s. He laced his fingers between hers and placed both their hands in his jacket pocket. It felt like old times, when they’d been happy together, times when they’d been in love. Jenny smiled to herself as they walked along. None of the noises of the night could frighten her, not even the swinging of a garden gate in the distance. Its rusty hinges groaned gently, amplified by the silence around them. She snuggled against his arm, feeling content for the first time in a while. Maybe she’d made a mistake leaving him. That was something she’d think about in the morning, not once she’d got him home.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The day couldn’t start quick enough. Jenny left Scott asleep under the covers. She had to be at work, while he wasn’t due in until the night shift. She’d tried to protest about him sleeping in her bed with her, but his argument had been they had nothing to hide after being in a relationship for five years. He had a point, so she’d given in, but insisted on changing in the bathroom. Scott snored. She’d been surprised how quickly she’d got used to the quiet without him and found herself digging him in the ribs most of the night trying to get him to shut up.

  There weren’t any breakdowns on the lanes, so getting to work and then back to Chapel End was a doddle. Adam suggested they swap the route over again, giving her more experience at the previous part, but she’d protested. She needed to speak to Carmie at the charity shop. Emma had been on her mind—another reason for the sleepless night. She wanted to make sure the woman was all right after Ben had dragged her away. Jenny shook her head. There were some very strange goings-on in the village.

  The streets felt like an uphill struggle for a Friday morning, Jenny was worn out. Her mind itched with the jealousy Emma had shown. She’d seemed like a woman obsessed.

  Would she really go to such lengths to get her man?

  Then there were the diaries. Emma hadn’t been at work when someone had broken into Jenny’s home and written on the wall. Until last night, Jenny couldn’t imagine the woman doing something so mad, but then she’d not seen her drunk before. If she really knew where they were, she’d have no need to search Jenny’s home for them. Jenny blew out her cheeks, then released them. The more she thought about things, the more confused she got.

  Walking into Duck Lane, she remembered she had a parcel for number fifteen. She pulled it from her mailbag and checked the address. There was no name on it. Jenny dropped off the post at each house until she reached the destination. The garden caught her attention; it was an array of spring flowers. The crocuses were dying off in time to allow the daffodils to take over. No doubt there’d be tulips next, and a lovely sight it would be, too.

  Jenny knocked on the door and waited for an answer. She’d posted the letters through before looking at the name, a mistake she realised once she’d done it. No one answered. She pulled out a ‘Sorry we missed you’ card from her pocket and began to fill it in when something moved. The curtain at the front window twitched, and a blue-grey cat slinked onto the windowsill. Jenny’s mouth dropped open, the sight of the cat a shock she hadn’t expected.

  The front door creaked ajar, snapping Jenny back to reality. “I’ve got a parcel for you.”

  She held up the box, unsure if the person on the other side could see what she was doing. Slowly, a craggy old hand slipped through the space barely big enough to allow it and reached for the parcel. Jenny mo
ved it closer. The spindly fingers crept around its surface and yanked it from her grasp. She slammed the door, and Jenny flinched.

  Along the road, Adam was preparing the mailbags for the next stretch of the route. His experience of over twenty years as a delivery postman showed in his ability. The longer-serving workers had a certain way of walking, like a marathon done at high speed. She’d yet to manage the briskness and despaired if it’d ever happen.

  “Wondered when you’d get here,” Adam said, winking to show he was joking.

  Jenny placed her empty bag inside the van but hesitated before picking up the next. “What’s with the people at number fifteen? Bit strange, aren’t they?”

  Adam glanced up to see she wasn’t smiling. “Oh, them. Don’t worry about it, just a weirdo family.”

  “They snatched the parcel and slammed the door.”

  “That’ll be old Mrs Selby,” Adam said. “She’s not all there in the head. No harm, though. Her husband, mind, he’s been in prison, so stay away from him.”

  “What was he put away for?”

  “Peeping Tom and groping young girls, things like that.”

  Jenny did a double-take. It wasn’t what she’d expected. “Wow, imagine having a husband like that.”

  “Just keep away from him, that’s all I’ll say.”

  At last, the charity shop came into view. Jenny peered through the window on her way to the door. Carmie stood behind the till, but she wasn’t smiling. Jenny pushed inside, eager to see her friend.

  Jenny glanced around the shop. “No customers? Is it something you said?” She winked to show she was joking, just like Adam had, but it didn’t get a response. “Hey, why so glum?”

  Carmie turned away, clearly not wanting to meet her gaze.

  Jenny stepped closer until she was alongside the counter. “What’s wrong, hun?”