Embellished Deception: A Psychological Suspense Novel (The Crime Files)

by Netta Newbound

  "I'm confused. Most men would run a mile if they've moved on with their lives. The last thing they'd want is a pregnant ex to complicate things further."

  "He's not most men though."

  "No?"

  "If I tell you something you've got to promise me ..."

  "It'll go no further," he interrupted. "Scouts honour."

  I chuckled. "Were you even in the scouts?"

  "I most certainly was." He held his hand up in a three finger salute. "Dib, dib, dib."

  "You're crazy—and what the hell's dib, dib, dib mean anyway?" I asked, shaking my head.

  "It stands for do your best."

  "Well, I never."

  "See? Just being with me is an education."

  "I know. Amazing." I laughed and rolled my eyes.

  Our pizzas arrived and my stomach growled.

  "Excuse me!" I said, horrified.

  "See? I knew you needed feeding up."

  "Yes, you did,"

  "So come on, stop changing the subject. I'm dying to know."

  "Oh yes, sorry. The thing is—I really don't find it easy to talk about, but ... Simon's gay."

  "You've got to be kidding me?"

  I shook my head as I took a huge bite of my thin and crispy pepperoni pizza.

  "How long have you known?"

  I finished my mouthful before speaking. "Just found out last week. He was working late, so I took pity on him and arrived at his office with some supper."

  "And you found them at it on top of his desk?"

  I laughed. "No—nothing that dramatic, I'm afraid. The offices were shut and in darkness, but his car was still there. The only other place open was an Italian restaurant next door. I caught them gazing into each other's eyes and holding hands over the table. It’s his boss."

  "What a shock that must have been."

  "It was. I was numb. I just sat down at the table in shock. It all suddenly made sense."

  "Had you met the boss before?"

  "Yes. He'd been at our house for dinner. We'd got on really well. I liked him.” I raised my eyebrows. “Not as much as Simon, obviously."

  "Obviously."

  We sat in silence for a while as we devoured our pizza. It was such a different date to last night’s, but just as enjoyable.

  Carl was a few years younger than me and oozed confidence. His brown hair was parted to the side into a quiff. His eyes continually sparkled with mischief and had several creases in the corners—definite laughter lines. And he had the straightest, whitest teeth I'd ever seen outside of a celebrity magazine.

  I liked him. I liked him a lot. But I didn't fancy him.

  When I thought back to last night and James Dunn, I went weak at the knees. Pity he didn't feel the same. My face reddened as I thought of how I'd launched myself at him.

  As though reading my mind, Carl said, "So, who was the dude from last night?"

  "Just a friend. We all grew up together."

  "I got the impression he thinks you're more than just friends, considering the look on his face."

  I shook my head. "No—nothing like that. He dropped me off home and that's that."

  "Good."

  "Why good?" I asked, amused.

  "'Cos you're my girl now."

  "As if," I laughed.

  "I'm not a bad catch." He feigned hurt.

  "I know—just not for me. Not in that way. I do need a friend though."

  "If that's all you're offering, I'll accept—for now."

  "You're impossible." I laughed again. "So tell me your story."

  "Nothing to tell, really."

  "Bullshit! Beryl told me you’ve travelled around a bit."

  "Yeah, I get itchy feet. You know how it is," he said, tapping his fingers agitatedly on the table.

  "Not really." I shrugged. "I lived in the same house I was born in until moving six years ago, and as soon as the excrement hit the cooling device where did I head? Yep—you got it in one—straight back home."

  "There's no place like home." He smiled, fidgeting back in his seat.

  "So, where were you born? Where do you call home?" I pressed.

  Carl seemed decidedly twitchy.

  "Are you alright?" I indicated his tapping fingers.

  "Oh, yes. Sorry, I'm dying for a cigarette and can't find my electronic one."

  "I forgot about that—do they actually work?"

  "They do if you don't lose them," he said. "Now where were we?"

  I shrugged.

  "Bristol. That's where I was born, and my mum lived there till she died last year. I was in Australia for almost three years before that. I came home when she got sick."

  "What about your dad?"

  "Never knew him. It was always just the two of us."

  "You must miss her."

  His eyes glazed over and I panicked. I thought he was about to cry, and I really didn't know how I'd deal with that. Thankfully the waitress appeared to clear away our plates, and Carl pulled himself together. She asked if we wanted to see the dessert menu, and we both declined and asked for the bill instead.

  "I'll get this," I said as the waitress brought the bill back to the table.

  "Oh, no, you won't. I asked you out and I'm going to get it."

  "Well, what about the bill for my car?"

  "Your dad paid it." He smiled.

  "You cheeky sod." I laughed. "You conned me."

  "Maybe. I knew you wouldn't refuse to come out with me if you thought you were in my debt." He laughed.

  "I've decided you can get the bill, as punishment," I said, shaking my head.

  "Done. Okay, what do you want to do next?"

  "I dunno, what choice do I have?"

  "I could take you home and give you a full body massage, or we could try the village pub."

  "Pub it is then," I said.

  "Thought you might say that." He punched the air in front of him in mock disappointment.

  As we arrived back in Cumberside, I was surprised by the huge crowd of people on the footpath, spilling out onto the green. Carl parked the car and we made our way to the pub.

  "What's going on, mate?" Carl asked a man standing on the pub steps.

  "They've just found another woman—just like the rest." The man shook his head. "What's this place coming to—I ask you?"

  Carl sighed. "Dunno mate. I just don't know." Carl patted the man on his shoulder, and then led me into the pub.

  "I wonder who it was this time," I said.

  "I'm sure we'll find out before too long. It'll be all over the place by tomorrow. There's no keeping a secret in a small place like this."

  "I feel weird. This is the first time it's happened since I've been back."

  The bar was surprisingly quiet after the chaos outside. There were only a handful of locals propping up the bar and two more having a game of darts.

  "If you want to change your mind and opt for the massage instead, I'm sure it could be arranged?" Carl asked hopefully, a twinkle in his eye.

  "No!" I laughed. "Fancy a game of pool?"

  "You're on. But I must warn you, I was the snooker champ at the after school program in Bristol in 1996."

  "Ooh err—you have me shaking in my shoes." I chuckled.

  "Hey, cheeky."

  "Anyway—you must have only been a baby in '96."

  "How old do you think I am?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

  I shrugged. "Twenty-two, twenty-three?"

  "Bullshit!" He laughed. "Honestly?"

  I nodded. "Go on then, how old?"

  "Thirty-one in January."

  "You are kidding. I'll have to think of another excuse not to date you now. I was gonna say you were too young." We both cracked up laughing.

  The easy banter between us was refreshing. I couldn't remember when I'd laughed so much.

  We ordered drinks. I stuck with orange juice after last night’s alcohol fuelled disaster. Carl ordered a pint of beer.

  We were soon laughing hysterically at my pathetic atte
mpts at pool. I'd played before, years ago, but I couldn't remember being so bad.

  Carl, true to his word, whooped my backside.

  "Right. If I win the next game, I'm taking you home and having my wicked way with you," he warned.

  "Oh, I love it when you're so masterful—how could a girl possibly refuse?" I scoffed.

  His eyes left my face and settled on a point just beyond my shoulder, and I froze. Someone was standing behind me.

  Turning slowly, I was horrified to see James looking dreamy in his tight fitting grey t-shirt and pale-blue jeans—a thunderous expression on his face.

  "Oh, hi, James. I didn't see you there." I smiled guiltily.

  "Geraldine." He nodded, his eyebrows raised.

  "You remember Carl?" I asked, glancing at Carl, who was watching our exchange with pure amusement all over his face.

  "Unfortunately," James said, not acknowledging Carl at all.

  I flashed Carl a bemused look and turned back to James. "I wanted to say how much I enjoyed myself last night."

  James didn't say anything—this was awkward.

  "Do you want a game?" I indicated the pool table.

  "No, thanks. Sounds as though you just made a bet I definitely don't want to be part of."

  "Oh?" I said, thinking back to what he was talking about, and I felt my face turn every shade of red once I did.

  "Did you hear there's been another attack?" I asked.

  "James nodded. “Yeah, I just got back from the hospital—she's a mess, but he didn't cut her this time, thank God. She got a nasty lump on her head though, but she'll live."

  "Who was it?

  "Sammy Palin."

  I shook my head, not recognising the name.

  "Stephy's sister, from our class?"

  "Oh, I know who you mean now. She's a couple of years younger than us, isn't she?"

  James nodded. "Goodnight, Geraldine—Carl," he said through tight lips, then left.

  Carl burst into hysterics. His laughter was so loud it would definitely be heard outside of the bar.

  "Shush!" I said, not wanting James to be angrier than he already was. "What the hell are you laughing at?"

  "His face. I felt like a naughty schoolboy with him standing there."

  "He's not that bad," I said.

  After another couple of games, we decided to call it a night. And Carl, ever the gentleman, let me win so I wouldn't have to give myself to him as a trophy. As if!

  We climbed into his car, although both our houses were only a hop, skip and a jump across the green.

  As he pulled up outside my house, I noticed a blue light flashing further up the oval.

  "Is that Auntie Beryl's house, Carl?" I asked.

  "What the ..." Carl said, getting out of the car and running up the street.

  I ran after him. We reached Auntie Beryl’s house as the police officer hammered on the door.

  "Hey!" Carl yelled.

  Vinny turned round. I'd have recognised him anywhere, although the puppy fat he'd always carried as a child had been replaced by lean muscle. Always a good-looking and confident boy, he was now a strikingly handsome man with movie star good looks—his dark hair was gelled to perfection and designer stubble covered his chiselled jaw.

  "Ah, Carl—just the man," Vinny said. "I'm going to need you to accompany me to the station. We have a few questions regarding several assaults in the area."

  "You've gotta be kidding—what would you want to speak to me about?" Carl asked, and for the first time I couldn't see the laughter behind his eyes.

  "I'd advise you to co-operate, Carl." Vinny put one hand on Carl's shoulder and held the other out towards the police car.

  "It's obviously a mistake, Carl. Just do as he says. You'll be okay," I said.

  Chapter 12

  I numbly watched as Carl was driven away in the police car, not knowing what to do.

  Obviously Auntie Beryl was sound asleep, or she'd have come to the door already after the commotion Vinny had made. I decided there was no point in upsetting her tonight, and besides, Carl would more than likely be home before morning anyway.

  I was surprised to see lights still on in our house, and even more surprised to find Mum and Dad still up in the lounge.

  "Hello, you two—I thought you'd be in bed by now." I was suddenly aware of the cold atmosphere in the room.

  "Oh, here she is—our resident loose woman," Mum said, nastily.

  "Enough, Grace. If you're angry, take it out on me, but leave our daughter alone."

  "What's wrong? What’s happened, Dad?"

  He stood up and stroked my head before kissing my cheek.

  "Mum's just got one of her headaches, that's all. Nothing for you to worry over, love. Why don't you get yourself to bed?"

  "Is she alright? Can I do anything?"

  "I am here you know? Both of you jabbering away as though I’m stone deaf!"

  Dad ignored her. "No—she's had her medication. She'll be fine soon. Go on up, love." He walked me to the stairs.

  Once we were in the hall, I turned to him. "There's been another assault tonight, Dad. And Carl's just been arrested for questioning. I feel I should do something."

  "Carl? Never in a million years would that lad have anything to do with it."

  "That's what I think, but Vinny obviously has some reason to want to question him."

  "Go and get your head down. We'll know more tomorrow," he said.

  "Is everything okay with Mum?" I asked.

  "To be honest, I really don't know. These headaches are getting more frequent, and some of the things she says to people are awful. She called one of Beryl's friends a slapper tonight."

  "She didn't?"

  "I can still hear you, you know?" Mum shouted again.

  I winced. "You all right?" I whispered.

  He nodded, looking exhausted. "Goodnight, Geri."

  The next morning I tapped on Auntie Beryl's window. I could see her washing dishes at the sink and she wiped her hands on a tea towel before opening the door.

  "No need to knock, lovey—come on in." She smiled, stepping back to allow me inside.

  Auntie Beryl’s house was my mum's worst nightmare—clutter, upon clutter, upon clutter. It wasn't dirty though, far from it. But she must have spent hours every week dusting her trinkets and ornaments.

  "So where is he?" she asked, glancing over my shoulder.

  "Who?"

  "Who indeed." She laughed. "Carl." She shook her head and raised her eyes to the ceiling. "I see his bed wasn't slept in—although I didn't expect your mam to allow any hanky panky under her own roof—how is she, by the way? Your mam? She was behaving right strange last night. Your dad had to insist they go home. I've never seen her like that, lovey."

  She walked back into the kitchen and began filling the kettle.

  "Oh, er—she's feeling better," I paused. "Auntie Beryl?"

  She switched off the tap and placed the kettle on the stand before turning to face me.

  "Yes, lass?" Her eyebrows furrowed.

  "Did you say Carl isn't here? Didn't come home?"

  "That's right. Wasn't he with you?" Panic clouded her watery grey eyes.

  "Yeah, he was until ... Auntie Beryl, he was taken to the police station for questioning about those attacks."

  Her face screwed up in confusion. She blinked several times as if trying to decipher a puzzle. Her double chin became more prominent with the angle of her head.

  "Our Carl?"

  I nodded. "Vinny was here when we got back from the pub last night. He didn't say he was arresting him, just that he needed to ask some questions. Maybe he saw something, and he's just helping the police."

  "Aye, yeah, lovey. That's what it'll be." She nodded, wiping the palms of her hands on her pinafore.

  My next stop was the hotel.

  With James also investigating the rapes, maybe he could shed a bit of light as to why Carl had been picked up.

  Shelly-pigface-Spears, was on receptio
n. She had been named by some of the nastier kids at school because she’d had the most unfortunate piggy nose as a child. I could tell she had since gone under the knife to rectify her problem, and I can't say I blamed her.

  "Shelly! Fancy you still living in the area."

  "Geraldine." She nodded, with the poise of a professional. "We all gravitate back here at some time or other—including you."

  "That's true. To be honest, I'm surprised how many of us from school are back living around here, but for all its faults, it's lovely to be home."

  Her smile softened.

  "You're looking really well, Shelly." I'd never been horrible to her like lots of our school mates had. Simon had even got into a fight defending her at one time. He got his one and only black eye because of it.

  "Thanks, Geri." She smiled.

  "Listen, Shell—I need to speak to James Dunn. Can you tell me which room he's in?" I asked, quietly.

  "Not really meant to give out his room number. I can call him for you if you like?"

  I sucked air in through my teeth as I shrugged. "The thing is, Shell. I'd rather just pop up there. Go on—it's only me. You know I won't do anything to get you into trouble."

  Her face was suddenly serious as she looked me up and down. "You didn't get it from me," she eventually said.

  "You have my word."

  "Sixteen," she whispered.

  "Thanks, Shell."

  I followed the directions to room 16. It was on the first floor at the end of the corridor.

  Two chamber maids were milling about outside James' room, and I wondered if the young girls had the hots for him.

  A pang of jealousy confirmed that I still had the hots for him myself, but I wasn't about to waste any more of my life lusting after a man who didn't feel the same.

  I needed his help and that was all.

  When the girls noticed me approaching, it was as though they suddenly remembered they were very busy and pushed the trolley past me towards the lift.

  I waited until the corridor was clear before knocking on James' door.

  "Not today, girls." James' voice began deep in the room and ended up just behind the door. "I'll leave you to it tomo ..." His words stopped as the door opened, and he saw me standing in the corridor.

  "Oh, it's you." He let the door swing fully open and with a quick flick of his head, he invited me in.