by D. S. Butler
I agreed. “What time are you going home? I can go to the club now but don’t want to leave Sienna alone today.”
“I’m in no rush, lovey. I’ll stay until you get back.”
I thanked Angie and headed upstairs to find Sienna. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, wearing earphones and didn’t hear me knock. When I’d pushed the door open, she jumped and shoved something behind her.
There was something she didn’t want me to see.
Of course, I wanted to know what she’d been looking at so intently. From the brief glance I’d had, it looked like she’d been staring at a collection of papers. That wasn’t really so suspicious. She was a teenage girl, and they liked to keep secrets. Maybe she kept love letters or a diary. I’d been secretive too at her age, hiding my diary under my mattress.
She pulled one of the earbuds out of her ear and the tinny beat of music continued.
“Sorry to interrupt. I just remembered the phone call from the health club yesterday. I’m going to head there now to pick up your mum’s things. You can come with me if you like, or Angie’s going to be here, so you won’t be alone.”
Sienna’s hand was still behind her back and she looked up at me guiltily. She wasn’t very good at hiding her feelings, not that that was a bad thing.
“I think I’ll stay here, thanks. Is Angie definitely going to be here until you get back?”
“Yes, she won’t leave you alone, promise.”
She bit her lower lip, a serious expression on her face. “Okay. Make sure you lock the door behind you.”
“I will.” Before I could say anything else, she popped the earbud back in her ear and looked away.
I left her to her music and her secrets. Under any other circumstances I would have found her behaviour amusing and cute. Maybe she had love letters from Zach or maybe she was offloading her grief into her diary.
But Nicole’s death made me paranoid and scared for Sienna’s safety, and I couldn’t help wondering if the young girl’s secrets had something to do with her mother’s death.
Chapter Twenty-Six
As soon as I’d left Sienna’s room, I dismissed the ridiculous idea she was hiding something related to her mother’s death. Sienna had normal secrets just like any other teenage girl. Even so, I decided to give Lizzie a ring later to see if the police had had any luck tracing the man who’d been following Sienna.
It was a ten minute drive to Narcissus health club. The car park was almost full, and I had to park some distance from the entrance. The air was overcast and heavy, and I walked towards the health club, batting away persistent thunder flies. There’d probably be another storm this afternoon.
A man dressed in white shorts and a white polo shirt, carrying a squash racket, held the door open for me at the entrance.
I thanked him and stepped inside the reception area. It smelled faintly of chlorine and I guessed the pool was nearby.
There were a couple of other people waiting at the reception desk, so I took the time to look at my phone and check my emails. I thought Rich would have contacted me by now with some questions. No news was good news, but I couldn’t help feeling a little put out that he seemed to be coping so well without me.
After the two women in front of me had been given timetables for the spinning class, I stepped up and leaned my forearms on the desk.
“How can I help?” the receptionist asked.
She was a young woman, who wore her hair neatly tied at the nape of her neck, and her lips were painted with a glossy, red lipstick.
“My name is Abbie Morris. I’m a friend of Nicole Carlson…”
As I said the words, I felt my throat close up. I was still talking in present tense.
“Yes?” the receptionist prompted, clearly not recognising Nicole’s name from the news.
I cleared my throat and continued. “You phoned Nicole’s house yesterday and left a message on the answer machine. At least, someone from the club did. I’m not sure if it was you… Apparently, she left some of her belongings here.”
“Couldn’t she come herself?” The receptionist looked at me in a disapproving manner.
I was speechless. The easiest thing would be to explain the situation and tell the receptionist that Nicole had died, but for some stupid reason, I didn’t want to tell her. I didn’t think I could stand to see the look of shock on the woman’s face, knowing that she’d be gossiping and talking about it with friends later. She’d tell them in a thrilled, horrified voice how she’d known the poor, murdered woman from Finchampstead.
“No, she couldn’t,” I said more calmly than I felt.
“Well, I can’t just give her belongings out to anyone, can I? So you’ll have to ask Mrs Carlson to come in herself and pick them up.”
I saw more people had joined the queue, and the receptionist’s eyes flickered to them as though she were dismissing me.
I placed my hands flat on the desk. “Sorry, I wasn’t making myself clear. Nicole is dead. Her fifteen-year-old daughter got your message, and I told her I’d come and pick up her mother’s belongings.”
The look of irritation faded from the woman’s face and her mouth hung open. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea…” She paused and I imagined the synapses sparking in her brain.
“Was she the woman who was murdered?” She whispered the words.
Feeling uncomfortable and wishing I could get this over with as soon as possible, I nodded.
“Right. In that case, of course, I can give you her belongings. I’ll need you to sign a receipt and provide some form of identification.”
I agreed and heard whispering behind me in the queue. I was very glad Sienna hadn’t decided to come with me.
“I’ll need someone to cover the desk. I won’t be a moment.” She turned and rushed into the room behind the reception desk marked staff only.
It wasn’t long before she was joined by one of her colleagues, a slightly taller woman with dark hair, who looked at me speculatively as the receptionist spoke to her in hushed whispers.
The receptionist left her dark-haired co-worker to cover the desk and beckoned me to follow her. She led me through a pair of double doors and along a corridor, and the smell of chlorine got stronger.
On entering the female changing rooms, we were immediately greeted by line upon line of cream-coloured lockers. A low, wooden bench was set in front of them, and it reminded me of the changing rooms we’d had when I was at school.
A woman strolled out from the main changing room, her wet hair hung around her shoulders and she was wrapped in a towel. She murmured hello and opened one of the lockers.
The receptionist reached into her pocket and pulled out what I guessed was a master key. “It’s locker forty-five,” she said, walking forward with the key raised. “I don’t suppose you have Mrs Carlson’s key, do you?”
I shook my head. “No, sorry. I’ll return it if it turns up.”
“You wouldn’t believe the number of keys we’ve lost this year. People are forever ‘forgetting’ to hand them back in after they finish in the gym. Technically they’re not allowed to take them home, but many people do, especially if they’re visiting the gym more than once a week. The manager is thinking of introducing a charge so people have to return the key to get their money back.” She shot me a quick glance as she turned the key in the lock. “Sorry, I suppose you couldn’t care less about our missing keys after what’s happened to your friend.”
She was babbling to fill the silence between us because she felt uncomfortable. That was largely my fault. I’d handled the situation badly. I should have explained everything to her as soon as I’d arrived.
“I’m sure Nicole didn’t mean to take the key home,” I said. “Maybe she just forgot.”
“It’s not a big deal in the scheme of things.” She gave me an apologetic smile. “It could be empty, but some of our regulars have taken to storing their gym stuff for weeks at a time. They take home any kit that needs to be washed but leave thei
r trainers and things here.” She opened the locker. “Ah, she did leave something then.”
She stood back to allow me to inspect the contents of the locker. Why had Nicole left her gym stuff here if they weren’t supposed to keep their lockers? My mind started working overtime, wondering if this was some kind of clue to her death. But the contents looked pretty ordinary to me. It was empty, apart from a duck egg blue holdall at the bottom.
For a moment, I just stood there staring at it.
“I’ll let you take out the contents,” the receptionist prompted when I didn’t move.
“Right, okay.”
Finally I moved and plucked the bag from the locker and found it to be surprisingly light. I wanted to open it to see what was inside but decided to wait until I got the back to the car. Not that I really expected to find anything more menacing than some spare deodorant or a hairbrush. I looped the white straps over my arm and turned away from the locker, ready to leave and get back to Sienna. I didn’t want to make Angie wait any longer than necessary.
A piercing double beep sounded, and the receptionist looked apologetically at me. “Sorry, I need to get this. I won’t be long. Why don’t you check there’s everything you expected in the bag, and I’ll get the paperwork for you to sign?”
She yanked her phone out of her pocket, pressed it to her ear and marched out of the changing rooms before I had a chance to reply.
I set the holdall down on the wooden bench and stared at it. Everything I expected? I didn’t expect to find anything. How would I know there was something missing or not?
I tugged open the zip and peered inside. There was a L’Oreal moisturiser, a Denman hairbrush, a tube of lip balm and Fenjal body spray. I reached for the body spray and smiled. I’d used it when I was at university and expensive perfumes had been way over my budget.
“You don’t want to pay any attention to her,” a voice said behind me.
I turned to see the woman with wet hair grinning at me.
“Excuse me?”
“The receptionist. Her name is Rachel, and she’s on a warpath at the moment. She’s decided to crack down on people keeping personal lockers. Everyone does it. It saves lugging your kit here for every trip to the gym, and as you can see,” she pointed to the lines of lockers. “There’s hardly a shortage.”
“Oh, so it’s not unusual for members to leave things in lockers?”
She shook her head. “Not at all. Most of the long-term members do it. Thanks to Rachel’s crackdown, I got a snooty voicemail on my phone the other day asking me to collect my belongings and return the key immediately. I ignored it.” She winked at me.
She pushed her damp fringe back off her face. “I was very sorry to hear about Nicole. We weren’t close friends, but I used to see her at the gym regularly.”
“Yes, I still can’t quite believe it.”
“Do the police know what happened yet?”
I didn’t really want to discuss Nicole’s death with a woman I barely knew. She was being kind, but I felt protective of Nicole.
I was saved from answering her question by the receptionist marching back into the changing rooms, brandishing a form for me to sign. I filled in the paperwork as quickly as possible, eager to get back to Yew Tree House, but as I was about to leave the changing room, the woman with the wet hair called out.
“Just a minute. There’s something else in there.”
I turned back and saw she was right. I’d missed it when I’d taken the holdall out. A slip of paper was wedged between the metal join at the base of the locker.
I pulled out the sheet of cream-coloured paper and flipped it over.
There was only one line printed on it.
Keep your mouth shut.
The receptionist who’d read the note over my shoulder let out a gasp, and the woman with wet hair clamped her hand to her mouth, but all I could do was stare down at the note.
Keep your mouth shut.
That was a threat.
At that moment, I was sure that whoever had issued this threat was responsible for my friend’s murder.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
My head was spinning and my mouth was dry as I walked back to the car. I’d stuffed the note into the holdall and practically run away from the changing rooms. I needed space to think and I couldn’t do that with those two women crowding round me.
With a trembling hand, I reached into my pocket for the car keys.
It wasn’t until I was sitting in the driver seat with the blue holdall on the passenger seat beside me that I realised how stupid I’d been. The note would be covered with my fingerprints. Would the police be able to get any forensic evidence from it now?
My heart rate was just beginning to slow down. I took a deep steadying breath, and dialled the number I had stored in my phone for the Thames Valley police. I asked for the call to be put through to DC Lizzie Camden.
After a brief pause, the call connected and Lizzie answered.
“Abbie, I was going to call you today. I’m afraid we didn’t have any luck tracking down the man Sienna saw following her.”
“I wasn’t calling about that,” I said, my voice breathless as I spoke quickly. “I’ve just been at Narcissus Health Club. They called to say Nicole was still using one of their lockers. I went to pick up her belongings and in the locker there was a note. It said, ‘Keep your mouth shut’.”
“Who was it from?”
I leaned back, resting my arm against the door, and saw a group health club staff in my rearview mirror. They’d gathered by the entrance and were watching me sitting in my car.
“It wasn’t a signed note Lizzie,” I said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. I was trying to sound calm but it wasn’t working.
“Did it say anything else?”
“No, that’s all it said.”
“Did you touch the note?”
“Yes, I took it out to the car with me. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. There was a holdall in the locker too, and I put the note in there.”
“Where are you now?”
“I’m sitting in my car, in the car park at the health club.”
“Okay, here’s what we going to do, I’m going to call the health club now and make sure no one else touches the locker until we get there. Who was the member of staff you dealt with?”
“I think her name’s Rachel.”
“Great.” There was a pause, and I imagined Lizzie writing something down. “Now, where’s the holdall and the note?”
“My passenger seat.”
“Right, well, leave them there for now. I’m organising a team to attend the scene. I should be there in about ten minutes. Just sit tight and we’ll be there soon.”
I agreed and then hung up. Staring at my phone, I wondered if I should call Steve or Sienna to let them know what was going on, but decided against it. Right now, there wasn’t much I could tell them. Maybe after the police got here they could explain what this note meant. Plus, I didn’t want to tell Sienna over the phone.
I glanced again at the holdall that looked so innocuous sitting innocently on my passenger seat. The words on the note had been ominous and terrified me. Who was warning Nicole to keep her mouth shut and why? Had she stumbled across something? Something to do with Steve’s business perhaps or… My train of thought evaporated when I suddenly remembered seeing the cream paper the note had been typed on before…
It was the same thick, cream, expensive paper Angie had given me from Steve’s office.
The skin on the back of my neck prickled. It was Steve’s paper… But why would he send his wife a note like that? It didn’t make sense. Besides, if Steve had bought that paper, then anyone else could do the same. It didn’t necessarily mean the note was from Steve. The more I thought about it, the more I realised Steve sending the note to Nicole was a ridiculous theory.
The wait seemed interminable. I wanted to look at the note again, just in case there was something I’d missed at first glance, but that w
ould be a stupid thing to do. I shouldn’t contaminate the evidence any more than I already had.
The minutes ticked past slowly and I leaned forward, cradling my head in my hands. Finally, there was a tap on my window. I turned to see Lizzie. I opened the door, climbed out of the car and leaned back against the bodywork. My legs still felt weak and shaky.
“Is that it?” Lizzie asked, glancing at the holdall.
“Yes, the note is in there.”
“Did anyone touch the note apart from you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Jeff, it’s in here,” Lizzie called over my shoulder, and I turned to see a man dressed in a white boiler suit approaching my car.
With gloved hands, he pulled out the holdall and carried it back to an unmarked van.
“What happens now?” I asked Lizzie.
She put her hand on my shoulder. “DS Dawson is going to go and speak to the staff, and we could have a forensic unit here to examine the locker. DI Green and DS Dawson will want to talk to you, but they can do it later. You look shaken up. Why don’t you go home and I’ll call you in an hour or so?”
“All right. I’m staying with Steve and Sienna at Yew Tree House.”
Lizzie’s eyes widened. “I see. Okay, we’ll come by there later to have a chat.”
I hesitated, wondering if I should mention the similarity between the paper in Steve’s office and the paper the note had been typed on. But it felt disloyal. And there was no way Steve would have written that note to his wife, would he?
After giving me a brief smile, Lizzie turned and walked towards the health club and her colleagues.
Feeling wiped out, I slid back into the driver’s seat and turned the engine on. Now came the part I was dreading. I was going to have to tell Sienna about the note.
I let myself into Yew Tree House quietly and slipped off my shoes. I flinched as I caught sight of my reflection in the hallway mirror. My eyes were wide my cheeks looked bloodless. Running my hands over my face, I turned away from the mirror. The air carried the faint scent of lemon from the cleaning products Angie had been using. She was humming in the kitchen and I padded across the hallway towards her.
