Chapter 32
I hurried along the road as fast as I could, afraid I was going to slip on ice and tumble over the verge.
All I had to light my way was the torch on my phone.
I wished I’d checked the boot of Susan’s car for a proper flashlight, but it probably wouldn’t have been a good idea to add stealing police property to the list of things they might charge me with.
But shining my phone’s light at the road beneath my feet allowed me to follow the markings there.
Every so often I come across a sign that said PASSING PLACE.
Halfway to the village I heard movement ahead of me and froze, thinking it might be Susan’s uniformed colleagues, come to take me back into custody, but it was only a sheep. It watched me as I passed.
As I walked I turned over everything that had happened in my mind.
I had obviously been right that Zack must have been responsible for what happened with Samir.
But why? Had Samir been responsible for Fase?
Had Gravitas secretly employed him – and would they really have murdered him just so they didn’t have to pay him?
It couldn’t be that simple. I wondered, too, if Zack was working alone or if Charles was involved.
Could Miranda be part of it – whatever it was – too?
What about Holly? She was one of them. A Grant. But that moment of doubt passed instantly. I was sure I could trust her, and I had to get to her first, explain what had happened. Ensure she believed me.
It had been almost nine thirty when I saw the stag.
The hours had blurred together since I’d been in the pub earlier.
I kept walking, putting one foot in front of the other, glad of my coat and gloves and hat but longing to be somewhere warm.
That stuffy museum room at the visitors’ centre with its electric heater would be perfect.
I wondered if I was still in shock. I had seen a woman shot dead in front of me.
At one point, trudging through the fog, I felt as if I must actually be dreaming.
Or dead. Maybe I had died in the car crash and this was hell: a cold, colourless place where I would walk alone along this road for ever.
But then I saw it. A light up ahead. A house, then another one. Then there were street lights, shining through the gloom, and before long I was heading past the village hall and the little shop and the tiny lake, its surface licked by mist, and then I was heading back down the hill to the Bay Inn.
There were several people standing outside, smoking and chatting. As I got closer, I realized that one of them was Miranda.
‘You’re smoking,’ I said, stupidly.
‘Very astute.’ She looked me up and down. ‘Where have you been?’
Someone came out of the pub to join the smokers, and a roar of chatter and music emerged with them.
It struck me that the people here probably didn’t know what had happened to Morag.
Nobody cared that Lewis was dead, but I knew that when they heard that Morag had been killed the party would come to a screeching halt.
‘Is Zack here?’ I asked, afraid the answer would be yes, but she shook her head.
‘Where’s Holly?’ I asked, and a voice in my ear said, ‘I’m right here.’
I whirled around. She had a cigarette in her hand, too. It was something she did occasionally, when she was stressed.
‘What have you been doing?’ she asked. ‘You look terrible. I told you, you should have stayed at the house.’
‘I need to find Jasmine.’ I was strung out, but trying to act normal. I was desperate to tell her what had happened, but I couldn’t, not with Miranda standing there. ‘I’m guessing none of you have got anywhere?’
‘No. Dad’s gone back to the house. Miranda and I drove around for a while, but it was hopeless. It was stupid. Aimless. We don’t know where to search, and the snow was making it impossible. We decided we needed a drink.’
‘Where’s Zack?’ I asked.
‘He’s still out looking.’
Miranda crushed her cigarette underfoot, breath clouding in the chill air. ‘He’s been all over the place. I doubt he would look this hard if I went missing.’
I regarded her. Apart from when we’d heard them having sex, I hadn’t seen any sign that Miranda and Zack liked each other.
But they were a married couple. They could be in cahoots.
She might know about Samir. She might even know that he’d shot Morag.
But if she was aware of what her husband had done, wouldn’t she have instantly let him know I was here?
I had been watching her, and she hadn’t made any move to get her phone out.
She hadn’t seemed surprised to see me either, which she would have if she thought I was in police custody.
‘Why do you look like you’ve just spent the night locked in a haunted house?
’ Holly asked. She was eyeing me with suspicion now, and it struck me that she might not believe me.
After all, she’d been sceptical when I’d told her about Lewis.
But I also knew I couldn’t get through this – couldn’t survive this – without Holly’s help.
I had to persuade her I was telling the truth about all of it.
I also needed to get out of here, not just so I could talk to Holly alone, but because the police were going to come looking for me. Susan had been dazed, but I didn’t think she’d be out of it for long. Her car hadn’t been badly smashed up. How long did I have before she found me?
And where was Zack?
‘Are there any other places you can think of where Jasmine might have sheltered?’ I asked.
Before Holly replied, I saw a light coming down the hill from the direction of the village hall. Susan, already? I braced myself, preparing to run, but it was only a single light. Seconds later, a bicycle came into sight.
It was Avril.
She came right up to us, braking beside Miranda. She looked as cold as I felt. Her nose was pink and snowflakes clung to her hat.
‘Have you seen my mum?’ she asked.
‘Isn’t she in the pub?’ Holly asked.
‘I didn’t see her in there,’ said Miranda.
‘She’s not at home.’
I stood there rigid, not wanting to say anything but not wanting to lie to her either.
I prayed she didn’t ask me directly. This poor girl.
It had only just struck me: both her parents had died within hours of each other.
Of course, her mum’s death would hit her much harder than Lewis’s. She already looked sick with worry.
‘It’s not like her to disappear, and she’s not answering her phone either.’ Avril looked towards the pub. ‘I’m going to ask Granny if she’s seen her.’
‘Good idea,’ said Holly.
As Avril headed towards the door of the pub, I noticed Miranda watching me, her head tilted to one side. ‘You’re up to something. What is it?’
‘I just want to find Jasmine.’ One possibility had occurred to me while I’d been walking here. ‘What about the arts centre? Could she be there?’
Holly raised an eyebrow. ‘You know about the arts centre?’
Flustered, and not wanting to mention that I’d even seen Morag, I said, ‘Yeah, of course. Someone here told me about it. I guess I should call it the manor house, because it never actually became an arts centre, did it?’
‘It was going to be Mum’s place,’ Miranda said. Suddenly, her voice was thick with emotion. ‘It’s why everyone hates us, you know? It was supposed to be Mum’s legacy.’
‘The police must have looked there already, surely,’ Holly said.
‘I don’t think they’ve done much at all,’ I said. ‘Susan Williams is completely on her own. I think we should try it. It’s not far from the caves, is it?’
‘No. There’s a footpath that goes up over the hill. It’s about a fifteen-minute walk.’
‘So Jasmine could easily have taken shelter there? Imagine how happy your dad will be if you find her,’ I said to Holly.
‘And how miserable I’ll be if we do,’ said Miranda.
I stared at her. ‘You really can’t mean that? When are you going to admit that Lewis told you he was planning to kill her?’
‘Failed at everything, didn’t he, my brother?’
It was the closest she had come to admitting that I hadn’t invented the conversation.
Holly didn’t seem to have noticed. She was chewing her bottom lip, looking anxious.
‘What is it?’ I asked.
‘I don’t like going there, that’s all. It brings back bad memories.’
‘I really think it’s worth looking, though. Come on. Please.’ I leaned in and spoke quietly into her ear. ‘Don’t react. But there’s something I urgently need to tell you.’
Her eyes widened, and I took her hand, trying to lead her towards the Jeep, which was parked a little way along the road.
But if I’d thought we could shake off Miranda easily, I was mistaken.
‘I’m looking forward to this,’ Miranda said, following us. ‘I haven’t been to the arts centre since Mum died. And if that bitch is there I’m going to get it out of her. Why she killed my brother.’