Time To Die Read online

  ‘Hmm, pongs a bit though,’ Jennifer said, sniffing her hands.

  Claire shrugged. ‘Ah well, that’s dogs for you. How are you finding Zoe?’

  Jennifer peered out the window to see her new colleague chatting to Will, toying with her stationery, as she sat in her chair. ‘She’s a nice girl, although she didn’t need much babysitting from me, she seems happier working alone.’

  ‘We’ll have to organise a works night out soon, once we get on top of our workload. You and Will have quite a double act going on at the moment. You’re like yin and yang but I like it.’

  ‘It works for me. I feel like we’re on the verge of something big with this Raven case, but it’s frustrating not having full control of the investigation. I’ve got some fresh evidence, and it pains me to have to hand it over to MIT.’ Jennifer passed her report to Claire, which was typed up and ready to pass over.

  Her sergeant scanned the pages, making ‘mmm’ sounds as she absorbed herself in the updates.

  Jennifer glanced through the window again to see Will tidying her desk, straightening the pens and stationery that Zoe had inadvertently moved. A warm glow spread through her, and seconds passed before her sergeant cleared her throat.

  ‘Will found evidence in your car?’ Claire raised an eyebrow as she finished reading the report. ‘I’ll need to speak to the DI about this.’

  The fact Claire had called him the DI and not Ethan set alarm bells ringing in Jennifer’s head. She hadn’t considered the option that she herself could become a person of interest in the Felicity Baron case. ‘Should I be worried?’

  ‘No, I just think he should be aware before you update them.’ Claire slipped off her pumps and scratched Tinker’s belly with her feet. The dog emitted a low satisfied moan, underneath her desk.

  Jennifer gave a short-lived smile at her sergeant’s quirkiness. ‘Perhaps I am responsible for all this. Sometimes I feel like I’m attracting bad energies and the people of Haven are paying for it.’

  Claire shook her head. ‘Don’t be silly. I just want you to hold off while I make sure we’re supporting you as best we can. Eventually the Raven will give a little more of himself, but for now, be careful. Don’t put yourself in a position where you’re vulnerable.’

  Jennifer mulled over their meeting as she returned to her desk. Flipping back the cap from her anti-bacterial gel, she squirted a blob on the palm of her hand. Fresh dust particles on her computer monitor glittered accusingly under the light of the fluorescent tubes, feeding her growing apprehension. She itched to march outside and scrub the inside of her car, but she wouldn’t be able to touch it until crime scene investigators had checked for fingerprints. Her senses told her they would not be forthcoming. Something dark was on the horizon, and she could not shake off the feeling that another prediction was on its way.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The news that her sister was visiting that evening sent Jennifer in a tailspin of emotions. Amy had not visited her home in over a year, and there was something about the edge in her voice that left her uneasy. Her phone call had been short, not because Jennifer was driving home, but due to the way she grilled her like a suspect in custody. She had gleaned enough information to find out that Amy’s sudden attendance had nothing to do with the children. Jennifer took out her trepidation on the wooden hall floor as she gripped the scrubbing brush. She swirled the soapy water over the knots, then dropped the brush in favour of a toothbrush, working her way into the grooves until her arms weakened and her back ached. The carpet was the only surface she could not disinfect, and it never felt truly clean. She had been in far worse places, where her shoes stuck to the floor and she wiped her feet on the way out. But this was her home, and she had learned to cope with other people’s low standards of hygiene as long as her living space was clean and ordered. She sat back on her legs, pushing strings of hair off her sweaty face. Her prune fingers gave comfort as her need for order grew. When it came to her sister, the old feelings of protectiveness and control often came back into play. It had been tough for Jennifer to let go when Amy got married, and although David was as straight-laced as they came, he always made sure she had everything she wanted. Jennifer didn’t want anything to rock the boat now, not when things were going so well.

  She had just enough time to shower and change before the doorbell rang. Anxious thoughts rebounded from one corner of her brain to the next as she searched the ceiling for invisible cobwebs. Amy would never call around like this, not unless she had a reason. It had always been up to Jennifer to visit her. Perhaps she was moving away, or there was something wrong with Josh. Perhaps …

  The doorbell rang again as an impatient finger leaned on the buzzer. Taking a deep, calming breath, Jennifer opened it wide, her face breaking out into a smile as she welcomed her sister inside. Her hug was stiff and awkward, so unlike the warm squeezes her little sister would give her when she tucked her up in bed at night. She shook the beads of rain from Amy’s coat and hung it on the hanger, anxiously glancing at her muddied shoes. Amy opened the door to the living room and paused teasingly in the doorway.

  ‘I’d better take these off before you have kittens,’ she said, easing her feet out of her flat Mary Jane shoes.

  She wasn’t far wrong. Jennifer felt she was expecting a bunch of lively felines already. She scratched the back of her hand, anything to keep her grounded.

  ‘Wow,’ Amy said, running her hands over the expensive furniture. ‘This place is even nicer than I remember. Can you imagine Josh in here? He’d have a field day with your cream carpet.’

  Jennifer cleared her throat. ‘The kids are welcome here any time. Can I get you anything?’

  Amy waved her offer away. ‘No thanks, I can’t stay long. I just wanted to pop in …’ Amy hesitated, swallowing hard. She stared at her stocking feet, unable to meet her sister’s eyes.

  ‘If you’ve come here to tell me something, it’s best you just get on with it.’ Jennifer stood at the fireplace, too nervy to sit.

  Amy clasped her fingers tightly over her knee. ‘Straight to the point, as always, sis.’ She exhaled a short-lived laugh. I came because I didn’t want to tell you on the phone. But you’ve got to promise not to blow your top.’

  Jennifer frowned. If it wasn’t anything to do with the kids, the other thing that could provoke such a reaction was … Her eyes opened wide. ‘Please tell me you’ve not been speaking to dad.’

  Amy’s lips turned downwards as she squirmed in her seat. It was the same pouty frown she wore as a child when she didn’t get her own way. ‘How do you do that?’

  ‘Do what?’ Jennifer asked, wishing her sister would get on with it and tell her what was wrong.

  ‘Steal my thoughts. It’s the same with Josh. I only have to think something and he knows what it is.’

  Jennifer felt a ripple of anger. ‘So you have been speaking to dad then?’

  ‘Yes as it happens. He wants to see his grandchildren,’ she said, her voice carrying an air of defiance.

  Jennifer rubbed her hands against the back of her jeans. She had an uncanny urge to dip them in bleach and inhale the reassuring smell as they found her cuts and scratches. Disbelief, anger, and jealousy mixed in a sickening cocktail as it churned her stomach and raised her voice. ‘I don’t believe this. Why are you allowing that drunk back into our lives?’

  Amy stood, pulling the thick strap of her handbag over her shoulder. ‘David said I didn’t have to justify my actions to you, and he was right.’

  The comment inflamed Jennifer’s irritation. ‘Oh so what David says goes, is that it? What about us? Don’t you remember what dad was like?’

  ‘He’s not drinking any more. He’s changed.’

  Jennifer rolled her eyes at the line. He’s changed. He’s sorry. He’ll never do it again. These were words she had heard victims recount countless times before. ‘And you believe that?’

  Amy blew out an exaggerated sigh. ‘I can’t deprive the children of a grandfather. Aunt Lau
ra thinks it’s a good idea.’

  Jennifer’s fists clenched as she paced the airy room, wishing she could shake some sense into her sister. ‘Laura? That’s a joke,’ she said with a bitter laugh. ‘She’s carried a torch for dad for years. No wonder she wants him back.’

  Amy took a step forward, jabbing her finger in her sister’s direction. ‘It’s all right for you, with your exciting job and designer clothes. For some of us, family is all we have.’

  Silence descended as Jennifer digested the words. If family meant everything to her sister then why was she pushing her away? Fighting with Amy was the last thing she wanted, but she wasn’t going to allow her to slate everything she had worked so hard to build.

  ‘Oh, I get it. You’re speaking to dad to spite me, because you’re jealous of my lifestyle.’

  ‘Why would I be jealous of you?’ Amy retorted. ‘I mean, look around this place. It’s soulless. You don’t have one family photo on the walls. Where’s all the pictures Joshua drew you? Filed away in a cabinet under J?’

  ‘That’s not fair. Just because I don’t like clutter doesn’t mean I don’t treasure everything he’s given me. And speaking of Josh, don’t you think it’s time you put him first? Letting dad meet the kids is selfish and irresponsible.’ As soon as the words left her lips, Jennifer knew she had pulled the trigger on the grenade. If anything pressed her sister’s buttons, it was being accused of being a bad mother. Amy lived for her children, but Jennifer had had enough of bearing the brunt of her moods when her sister could not get her own way.

  Amy’s face flared, red blotches staining on her cheeks. ‘You call me irresponsible? Perhaps if you hadn’t spun so many tales when we were kids, dad would have been allowed to see us.’

  Anger rose in every cell of Jennifer’s body. Her sister may as well have slapped her in the face. Her fists curled as the heat spread from her fingertips to the flush in her throat.

  ‘Told tales? Told tales? I knew you were living in a dreamland, but you really don’t have a clue! Don’t you remember his three-day benders? Or the days I had to get you ready for school, while he was still wearing his vomit from the night before? Or what about the times his scummy friends tried to come into our bedroom while our precious dad was comatose on the sofa downstairs?’

  Amy’s eyes darted around the room at the sight of her sister so incensed. ‘I knew you’d blow your top,’ she glowered, her words trailing behind her as she slipped her feet into her shoes in the hall. ‘Why do you think I didn’t want tea? I knew I’d be fucking wearing it.’

  The front door slammed in her wake, and Jennifer let her go. She should have been shocked to hear her homely sister swear, but she was lost in the pain of her betrayal. With shaking hands she rummaged in her bag for anti-bacterial gel, her fury overtaking her as she fiddled with the cap. The memory of her father flashed before her, his breath tainted with the sour smell of beer and cigarettes.

  She fumbled with the lid, feeling as if she was going to explode. ‘Argh!’ Releasing a scream, she sent the plastic bottle rebounding against the wooden floor, skidding to a halt at her front door. Her legs weakening, Jennifer plopped heavily onto the stairs. The thought of her father being welcomed into the fold while she was kept at arm’s length was more than she could bear. The betrayal in her sister’s words hit hard, and she guessed what happened to make Amy turn on her so savagely. Her sister had always been a daddy’s girl, and would believe anything if it softened her vision of days gone by. Her father was the master of denial, and lies came as easily to him as breathing. It would not have taken long for him to weave a new fabric of the past. One that involved him being the misunderstood father, grieving for his dead wife while his eldest daughter schemed against him. It was a romantic notion that would fit into the well-stacked bookshelf in Amy’s bedroom.

  Jennifer threaded her fingers through her hair as she took stock. Her argument with Amy would soon blow over, but the words would not be forgotten. She felt a pang in her chest as she thought of her mother. If she were alive, she would stand up for Jennifer, and tell Amy to see sense. It seemed so unfair, that she would lose her mother at such a young age, especially when she had so much to cope with. Jennifer stared at the front door, wishing she could erase the last twenty minutes from her life. She would have to weather the storm, allow Amy to meet her father, then be waiting in the sidelines when he let her down all over again. But as Jennifer took the stairs to get ready for work, she knew things may never be the same again.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Bert

  * * *

  As Bert pushed through the fire exit doors of the hospital, he was resolute. Every step he took from the looming grey building helped clear the fog of confusion in his brain. Time did not travel in a straight line. For him it was curved, a free flow of squiggles, returning to the past, and occasionally darting to places he had long since forgotten. Some places were a dead end. Routine served to confuse him further, and slinking away unnoticed from his hospital bed was the safest thing to do. The feeling of incarceration was not unfamiliar, and not something his jumbled mind wanted to explore. But he was clear about one thing. He had to set things right. He had interfered with a prediction, and that was interfering with time itself.

  The blue dress woman was named Emily Clarke. It was neatly printed on the bills piling up behind the narrow door of her two-bedroom bungalow. Gaining access through the bedroom window was easy. When the cards directed him, anything was possible. It was a sign he was on the right path, and as he scooted under the unmade double bed, his conviction grew strong. Emily was out thieving again, shoving food into her child’s pushchair as she strode through the aisles of the local One Stop, the only supermarket not to have installed CCTV. High-value items like batteries or meat could be traded for a drink and a packet of cigarettes if she was lucky. The extra few quid would help take the edge off when the bills mounted, bold red letters demanding her attention. All she wanted was a nice man, but she was not going to meet him down the Spread Eagle public house, where sawdust lined the floor and the landlord turned a blind eye. Bert had seen it all in the cards. Even if she had survived the prediction, she was destined to hook up with abusers who would shred her of every last ounce of dignity. And who would suffer? The poor kid with the haunted eyes. He was doing her a favour and saving the child a lifetime of pain. He would deliver a quick death for her sins. It seemed a fair exchange that her expiring life would replenish his.

  His musings were cut short as the front door rattled open, rebounding off the front tyre of the pushchair as it squeezed through the narrow hall. Bert’s breathing grew shallow in the confines of her streetlit tumbledown room. His vision was blinkered by his narrow viewpoint, and for a fraction of a second he forgot where he was. His mind had wandered again, but returned as quickly as it left. He turned his head to the sliver of light under the bedroom door, watching the shadow of Emily’s footsteps pace back and forth, unburdening the pushchair her son had long since grown out of. A long-legged spider scuttled across the dusty bedroom carpet. Bert was not afraid of spiders, he had spent long hours with the creatures of the leafy forest floor. Thoughts of the forest enforced his determination further, and any doubts about killing Emily evaporated as he heard her telling the child to go to bed and not to answer the door to anyone. Minutes later, her instruction was followed by the front door slamming, then a rattling of keys on the other side.

  The little boy pottered around the flat for a while, and the muffled sound of the television carried through the crack in the door. The bedside clock ticked incessantly as seconds and minutes dragged by. The television abruptly silenced, and Bert felt his heart freeze in his chest as the little boy entered the bedroom. He held his breath as the child’s bare feet padded to the bedroom window. Staring out into the darkness, he made little mewing sobs for his mummy. It felt like a well-practised routine. Anger ignited inside Bert, spreading until it reached every fibre of his body. He clenched his fists until his sharp fingernails pie
rced his woollen gloves into his palms. Dark wings stretched inside him, rising upwards with every hiccupped sob that left the child’s lips. With narrowed eyes, Bert watched the boy leave the room, sniffling and hiccupping. The thin blue striped pyjamas stretched only to the top of his ankles, doing little to protect him from the chill in the air.

  The clock ticked onwards, marching to midnight when the streetlights were extinguished, plunging the bedroom into a murky gloom. The council’s money-saving efforts were of great value to him, as it guaranteed him an escape under the cover of darkness. The clatter of the front door announced Emily was home. Bert flexed his fingers and toes, bringing back life to his stiffened limbs.

  Emily tiptoed to her son’s room, then returned to her own, swaying slightly as she opened the door, her shadow cast long in the light flooding from the hall. Kicking off her shoes, she stepped out of her denim skirt and left it in a puddle on the floor. The bed bounced as she climbed in, the sagging mattress almost touching Bert’s long nose, and his heartbeat thundered in his ears. As he inhaled the shifting dust, a tickle formed in his throat, and he clamped his gloved hands over his mouth as he fought the urge to cough. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed it back, and he reined in his accelerating breath. He could not afford to mess this up again. Every second seemed like an eternity as he waited, his body spiked with adrenalin to prepare for what lay ahead. Soon the air was filled with soft drunken snores. Gathering his nerve, he rolled out from under the bed. He stood over the sleeping woman, his long black coat encased in a layer of dust. He should not have interfered in the prophecy. He could see that now. He could never move forward until it was done. He summoned all of the darkness from within to assist with the kill, and clenched his fists as he felt the power surge through his body. Releasing the salivating monster, he reached for her tights on the floor.