Ghost House (Soul Mate - Book One)

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Ghost House (Soul Mate - Book One) Page 22

by Richard Crawford


  I don't worry too much about her timeline. Kylie went missing on a Wednesday afternoon in August. That afternoon's the only time that matters.

  It takes ages. I don't have a watch but I remember my phone's in the pocket of the ghost's jacket. Luckily it's not smashed up. The ghost turned it off. I turn it on and it's nearly four thirty. I don't have long left this afternoon and I don't want to come back. I see there are some messages on the phone.

  I stare at the phone for a bit, not liking the idea of messages. I haven't given the number to Suki, or anyone, because of potential ghost related confusion.

  I check the messages. There's one from Ally; it's mostly swear words and threats to various bits of my anatomy. I delete the message; like that will make the problem go away.

  There are two more messages. They are both from Mrs Crick. Holy shit, now I remember the ghost gave her one of the cards he had made. He must have used my mobile number. That's bad in so many ways. Both messages were left this morning, asking the ghost to contact her urgently; I know this is not good.

  I wonder if she's heard about Hunter. Did he see the car? He wouldn't know me from Adam. But if Mrs Crick has a description she'll be able to put two and two together. What if the solicitor tells her I'm here?

  Suddenly Morthbury really isn't a good place to be. I shove the notebook into the holdall. I'm sure I've got enough information to satisfy Anna. It's going to have to do. I make myself walk downstairs calmly.

  I say goodbye and thank you to Julia. The front door is just feet away when she asks, "Will you be needing the files again, Mr Evans."

  "I don't think so." I want to leave but she's not done.

  "It's just we will put them back in the archives. If you're finished."

  I take a breath. "Perhaps wait a few days, just to be sure." I open the door before she can say anything else. The walk back through Morthbury seems endless. But when I see the Merc I don't feel any better. The car's like a fucking advert for Crick.

  It's not as if I have a choice. I get in and drive slow through the town. Luckily it's not far until I'm out into the country. Then I gun it, pushing as hard as I dare on the narrow back roads. I do the trip back to Anna's in just about half the time. When I get there I head into the house.

  She's in the kitchen, waiting.

  "Here." I give her the notebook. "Is there anywhere I can park the Mercedes out of sight?"

  She takes a moment then says. "Drive it round the far side of the yard, there's some open sided sheds.

  "Thanks." I go and park the car. I chuck an old bit of tarpaulin over it to be safe.

  When I get back she's reading the notebook. I sit down and say. "Mrs Crick's left messages on my phone."

  "So what, just ignore them."

  "What if she's heard about yesterday, with Hunter?"

  That gets her attention. She thinks about it for a minute. "Call her back then. See what she wants."

  "What about the gun?" I look at her. "The gun the ghost took from her house."

  Anna thinks for a moment. "You have to call her or she'll get suspicious. But you don't have to tell her anything."

  I take a breath and make the call. I know I have to watch every word with Mrs Crick. She knows the ghost in both his personas. When she answers I say, "Mrs Crick, it's Paul Evans. Sorry, I just got your messages. I've been busy."

  She laughs. "So I hear Mr Evans."

  The laugh settles me a bit. At least she's not mad. Then there's a moments silence. I'm not picking that one up.

  She says, "You were as good as your word, stirring things up. But you need to be careful. There's a surveillance camera at the yard."

  I feel like someone punched me in the gut. I think I make a sort of gasping noise. Anna looks up from the notebook and stares at me.

  After a moment, Mrs Crick goes on, "You were lucky. I understand," she says, all coy. "There was no identifiable footage. But I have reconsidered you using my husband's car. I don't want any of this finding its way back to me."

  She doesn't mention the gun, which is good. She's pleased but being cautious about the car.

  I realise I need to say something. "Of course, Mrs Crick, I understand completely." It's good that she doesn't want anything to do with me. "I'll make other arrangements and get the car back to you as soon as possible."

  "Thank you, Mr Evans. I do appreciate your efforts." She laughs again, and I'm guessing she's enjoying the idea of Hunter scared shitless nearly as much as the ghost did. I don't say anything. I'm hoping she'll end the call.

  "If you need anything you can come to me," she says. "But discreetly."

  "Of course, I'll remember, thank you, Mrs Crick." I press to hang up.

  Anna's still watching me. "Is everything OK?"

  "Yeah," I say. "No problem." This is all so fucked up; I can't even get into it with her. We've got other stuff to do.

  I go through the notebook, trying to get what I've written down into order, while she makes supper. We eat at the kitchen table and keep working through the notebook. Pulling it all together. It's about eleven when we're done. I look across at her. She's been less prickly, but even if it sets her off again, I have to ask.

  "We're going to have to check things out, speak to people." I can't imagine how we do this. "Do you remember anything that will help us work out where to start?"

  "Not now, Tommy." She shakes her head. "I'm tired. We'll go over this in the morning."

  She does look tired and pale. Even her anger's less forceful. So I go along with her. "OK." She hasn't offered me a bed for the night and I feel a bit awkward asking. I guess I could sleep in the Merc but there's no way I'm going back to the White Hart. I sit there feeling a bit stupid until she says,

  "Come on, I'll show you your room."

  "Thanks," I say with way too much gratitude. Like after all we've been through today it's a big deal she's offering me a bed. She gives me a look and I feel even more stupid. "I'm sorry, for all this." I don't even know why I say it, but she gives me a wry smile.

  "I do know this isn't completely your fault, Tommy."

  ####

  When I come down in the morning, Anna's sitting at the table with the notebook and a load of papers. She looks up and nods.

  "There's coffee made." She looks as if she hasn't slept at all. As if she's been there all night.

  I get coffee and sit down at the table. The moment I sit down she gets up.

  "Scrambled eggs, OK?"

  "Sure." I can tell she's putting off getting started. She might have been at this all night but she's still not ready to talk. I can't work out what is going on with her. What did she do that would bring Crick after her? What is so bad she can't face it?

  I pick up the notebook and a pen. "I figure there were three other guys the cops were looking at." I keep talking while she fiddles around with eggs. She standing at the Aga with her back to me so I can't see her face. "Two of the guys lived in the cottages where the little girl went missing. They both knew her. But one of them had a strong alibi. The other guy lived about twenty miles away. He had a record but the cops weren't even sure it was his car that was seen." I stop for breath, sort of hoping she'll say something. "Do you think we should check him out?"

  "No." She's silent for a while. "It was someone close to her."

  I wait but she doesn't say anything. "Is that something you felt before?" I ask.

  She finishes with the eggs and puts them down in front of me with a bit of a crash. Then she sits down and looks through the papers for a minute. I start eating.

  After a bit she says, "I spent a lot of time at the cottage with Kylie's mum. I could feel that it was all tied up in that one place." She shivers. "And that Kylie was still close by."

  "You knew she was dead?"

  She glares at me. "Yes, Tommy. I knew."

  I'm done with the eggs. Suddenly I have no appetite. "What happened?" I'm going to keep asking until she tells me.

  She shrugs. "I had helped with lost children before.
But this was different. I knew right off that…" she stops, puts a hand over her mouth for a moment. "Kylie wasn't coming back. But I didn't tell her mum straight away. I thought it was for the best. I thought I knew best." She picks up a pen, balances it between her fingers, stares at it. "Perhaps I was afraid to tell her, but I knew."

  She's so on edge. I've never seen her unsure before. There's more to this than the little girl's death. I know it.

  "After a week, I knew Sue was ready to accept Kylie was gone," Anna says softly. "I spoke to the police. The local search had already been scaled down. They were just getting interested in Crick." She lays the pen on the table, rolls it from side to side. Still not looking at me. "I knew it wasn't him. I said as much to the police."

  "But he knew her. He came to the cottage. He gave her and her mum lifts."

  She nodded. "But it wasn't him. It was someone she trusted. Someone she saw everyday." She stops, shakes her head. "I knew it wasn't him but I didn't know who it was. It could've been anyone, friend of the family, neighbour, someone to do with her school."

  "You told this to the police." I watch her face. "They trusted you. You could've helped them find the real killer; what happened?"

  She turns away. Behind her there's a box sitting on one of the chairs. She lifts the lid and takes out a piece of paper, lays it on the table in front of me.

  It's like those ransom notes you see in the movies. Spelled out with letters cut out of a magazine. The paper's faded and dry. Some of the letters coming unstuck. But I can read it well enough. It makes me feel sick.

  "The killer wrote this?" I'm not really asking. She must believe he did. "And you did what he wanted."

  "What else could I do?"

  It's not a question I can answer. "You must know who he is."

  "No." She shakes her head. "I tried but all I get off the letter is hate." She's rolling the pen faster and faster, and staring at the letter like it's a snake.

  I don't know what to do. She's lived with this for twelve years, but I'm guessing the letter has much the same effect as the first time she saw it. "It was twelve years ago," I say.

  "What difference do you think that makes to a killer?"

  "Suki's grown-up now. She's moved away."

  I can see she thinks I'm mad. The threats in the letter, the terrible images, are as strong to her now as they were then. A woman on her own. A woman not given to trusting people. A woman who would do anything to protect her child.

  "You've never heard from him again."

  She shakes her head. "I did what he wanted."

  Holy Christ. I think she must have been out of her mind. Talk about a deal with the devil.

  She glares at me. "You think I was wrong." Her voice rises with each word. She holds the pen like she wants to stab someone. "Crick was an evil man." She jabs the pen into the notebook over and over.

  "But he didn't murder Kylie Martin." I have to say it. "He didn't send this letter."

  She stops with the pen and shakes her head, gets a bit calmer. "I kept watch in the papers. I don't think the killer ever…" Her conviction as she says this is scary. "If he had…."

  I don't know if she understands what she's saying. But I can't judge her. It's not my place. I think of Danny. Is it worse to do too much to protect a loved one than too little? I know I don't have the right to judge anyone.

  I pick up the letter. "This would have weakened the case against Crick. But it wouldn't have exonerated him and, from what you say, it wouldn't have found the killer."

  She looks almost grateful and I feel like shit. Who knows what the police could have done with the letter. "But we have to find him now," I say.

  She nods once, determined, as if she's got through some sort of barrier. She turns back to the box. She takes out a child's red school jumper and lays it on the table.

  "Kylie's?" I ask and reach out to pick it up. It's so small. "Can you…" I don't know what to call it. "Reach her?" I wonder if she's tried since. But I don't think so. The letter and the jumper in the same box tells me that much.

  "Perhaps," she says. She takes the jumper from me. Smoothes it between her hands and just like that I know she's trying. She doesn't look any different. There's a small, deep frown line between her eyes. And her hand keeps moving over the jumper.

  I wonder if it will be like with Danny. Will the little girl speak through Anna. Or will Anna speak to her. Nothing happens for a while then Anna's breathing changes, gets faster. I can almost feel her reaching out.

  Then I see the ghost. I half stand up.

  I know what's going to happen and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The ghost drifts towards me, like a moth to a flame. I'm frozen, half standing, as the compulsion kicks in. I feel the ghost against my skin, sliding inside me. The chair crashes backwards and I'm falling. My head skims the table and then I'm on the floor, twitching and thrashing as the ghost takes control. I lose consciousness but only for a moment.

  When I come to, I'm lying on the floor half underneath the table. Anna is standing a little way off by the Aga. She has one hand pressed over her mouth, the other wrapped white knuckle tight around the handrail. She's staring down at me but she doesn't move. I feel the ghost's terrible panic and I know for certain it's Kylie. She has no idea what's going on. Just like Joe and Laurie. She's watching Anna and she's so afraid. We sort of scoot across the floor away from Anna and end up huddled in the corner by the door.

  It gets quiet and still. The ghost starts to sob. Through blurred eyes I can see Anna still standing there, watching us. I wonder what she's going to do. The ghost sobs so hard we get breathless. We look from side to side and I can feel the ghost's panic. I know Kylie's looking for something familiar. I try to reassure her but she's too afraid and I don't want to push and scare her.

  The ghost gets tense, bunched up like she's going to bolt. I start to panic. If we run there's nothing Anna will be able to do to stop us. I'm bigger and stronger than she is. But I need Anna to help with Kylie. We brought her here. We pulled her back to fulfil Crick's task, to make good Anna's mistakes, and I know now that it was wrong.

  The ghost covers our eyes and sobs.

  "Kylie?" Anna's voice though she still hasn't moved. "Kylie?"

  Still sobbing we move our fingers apart enough to look up at her.

  "Kylie, sweetheart, is that you?"

  The sound of Anna's voice seems to soothe the ghost a little.

  "I'm a friend of your mum's," Anna says. I wonder if she knows Kylie's mum is dead. I can't remember if that's in the notebook. But I suppose it doesn't matter. "Will you let me help you, Kylie?" Her voice is low and comforting.

  We nod and choke through a sob. Anna comes towards us. Slowly she crouches down. "Come on, sweetheart, you don't want to sit on the horrible cold floor." She reaches for our hands and tugs gently. We get up. Anna leads us to the table and we go with her and sit down. The ghost feels gangly, uncoordinated. Anna's still holding our hands. We let her. I think the ghost likes the feeling of contact. Anna seems to sense this; she sits down at the table keeping hold of one of our hands.

  Anna strokes our hand and says, "It's all going to be alright. I'm going to look after you, Kylie."

  The ghost is a bit calmer now. She's still crying. I don't feel like she's going to run, but she's still scared. I have to rely on Anna now, but I don't know what she'll do. I wonder if any sort of instinct will kick in with Kylie, like it did with Joe and Laurie. I'm pretty sure they weren't supposed to come back, but they went home, they went to the place where they died. Something about those places pulled at them. I wish I could tell Anna about what happened with them. She's still holding our hand, talking softly to the ghost.

  "Would you like some milk and cookies?" she asks.

  We nod. Anna waits a little while and then gets up. She picks up the fallen chair, and puts it back in place, gently. Then she puts a pan of milk on the Aga. She gets a packet of chocolate biscuits from
the cupboard. All the time she moves softly and stays as close to us as possible. I wish I could tell her to go and lock the doors. I'm scared to think of this ghost running loose.

  We sniff and wipe our eyes on the sleeve of Crick's jacket. The ghost doesn't seem to notice anything weird about this. All the time we watch Anna. I wonder what Anna will do. If she'll drug us, like with Crick. But I don't see her add anything to the milk. I'm glad. The ghost is calmer now and I know it will be better if Anna wins Kylie's trust.

  Anna gives us a tissue. She tidies the papers off the table and replaces them with a plate of biscuits. We take one and the ghost nibbles at the chocolate. She nibbles through two biscuits real quick. Anna brings a mug of milk and puts it down beside us. The ghost gulps the milk and reaches for another biscuit. I can feel that the food is a comfort to her. Something normal.

  Anna disappears for a few moments and comes back with paper and crayons. She puts them down on the table. There's a portable TV on one of the counters and she turns it on and switches to a kids' programme. All the time she keeps talking to Kylie, not saying anything much but just talking.

  The ghost eats six more biscuits and finishes the milk. She watches the TV. Anna fetches her more milk and takes the biscuits away. "Do you want to do some drawing while you watch television, Kylie?" she asks. I don't know how she manages to sound so normal.

  We nod and reach for the crayons. Kylie feels more relaxed now, surprisingly so. I remember that Joe and Laurie were scared the whole time. But Kylie seems to have accepted what's happening. I wonder if it's to do with Anna, if she did something.

  Anna keeps pottering round, washing up, tidying things away. She gets on the phone and I think she calls someone down at the gardens. She says she's busy up here and if they can just carry on without her. It doesn't seem to be a problem. The ghost is watching the TV. She looked at the crayons and tried out colours, but she hasn't really drawn anything.

 

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