moved above the foliage.
There was a heavy clunk sound as something knocked against a tree trunk. Someone
was keeping to the shadows but not keeping very quiet.
I pressed up against the tree, hardly
breathing.
There was a touch on my shoulder. My
skin seemed to shrink with fright. I fell forwards into the damp undergrowth,
black soil squeezing up between my fingers. As I twisted to face whoever was
behind me, a hand loomed out of the dark. Frantically, I rolled sideways, landing
on the edge of the gravel road. The moon had brightened in an empty patch of
sky. The road lay visible, flanked by the forest. I scrambled to my feet.
Brent Sedgeworth was standing a few
feet away, his blonde hair colourless in the monotone light, pale eyes intent.
‘Casey – ’ he said.
I was trembling from head to toe. My
voice when it came was like a scattering of gravel in my mouth. ‘You fuck off.’
It sounded like yafugiff.
His eyes slid around me as though
he was looking for a patch of bare skin. ‘Where are you going?’
‘You bastard!’ I spat, powered by pure
terror. ‘You fucking bastard!’
His eyes remained steady as though
my reaction was entirely anticipated. ‘You running for the police?’
‘I just found Mona’s dead body!’
Quietly, as though he had to mark
this statement with utmost respect, he responded, ‘I know.’
‘You killed her!’
‘No,’ he said slowly. ‘That’s the irony.
I didn’t kill her.’ He was watching me as though I was an unexploded bomb. He
eased forward. Gravel shifted in an ominous crunch under his shoe.
Fright and anger tore like double
blades in my heart. I blurted, ‘Mona found out about you, didn’t she? Confronted
you. Threatened to blow your can of worms right open.’
He cocked his head. I had let him
know I knew a little bit more about him than he would have liked. I wondered whether
I had made a mistake – whether I should thank Jake for his information or not.
Unnerved by his silence, I gabbled
on: ‘You had to give her that cock and bull story about being away for one
night. Where were you going? What were you planning? Then Sticky broke his leg
and you had to let her phone me. What happened? Did you have a row? Did she
refuse to go in the end? Did she leave you with no choice but to kill her here
and bury the body in the woods? You even wrote a note to let me think she’d
gone away happily with you. Where’ve you been all evening? Digging the grave?’
His intake of breath was sharp. ‘You
want the truth? I thought Mona had left and taken my car. I was about to leave
in hers when you rocked up. Nice parking, baby shoes.’
I felt disorientated. What was he
talking about? ‘You’ve been here all along? Since I arrived?’
‘No, I left. Shanks pony. I walked
away. You were the last person I needed in my life. Then I found my car on the
road. I thought that was poetic justice. Mona hadn’t gotten very far. So I went
to Wally Bunting and we managed to get the damn thing to his work yard. That’s
where I was. Then I came back to see if she – if Mona – had come back. And I
saw Max and Ron – ’ he paused. He effected an expression I couldn’t read. On a
gruff note, he went on, ‘I saw what you found in the shed. Mona never ran away.
Bunting’s bastard brother must have got her! That twisted piece of shit must
have attacked and killed her while I was with his brother this afternoon.’
There was a plausible note of
dismay in his voice. The Bunting name had been thrown in with casual assurance:
Wally, the nutcase who threw cricket balls at potential trespassers and his even
worse nutcase brother, Matthew, who had escaped from an institution . The
perfect duo to take the blame for murder.
I was silent, confused. This was
too clever, too slick. His play for innocence too easy. Had he seen Jake Adler?
Had he known his old friend was out for revenge? Did it matter? I was prime
witness, the only person who could connect the dots he’d hoped to erase.
There was a heavy clunk sound as something knocked against a tree trunk. Someone
was keeping to the shadows but not keeping very quiet.
I pressed up against the tree, hardly
breathing.
There was a touch on my shoulder. My
skin seemed to shrink with fright. I fell forwards into the damp undergrowth,
black soil squeezing up between my fingers. As I twisted to face whoever was
behind me, a hand loomed out of the dark. Frantically, I rolled sideways, landing
on the edge of the gravel road. The moon had brightened in an empty patch of
sky. The road lay visible, flanked by the forest. I scrambled to my feet.
Brent Sedgeworth was standing a few
feet away, his blonde hair colourless in the monotone light, pale eyes intent.
‘Casey – ’ he said.
I was trembling from head to toe. My
voice when it came was like a scattering of gravel in my mouth. ‘You fuck off.’
It sounded like yafugiff.
His eyes slid around me as though
he was looking for a patch of bare skin. ‘Where are you going?’
‘You bastard!’ I spat, powered by pure
terror. ‘You fucking bastard!’
His eyes remained steady as though
my reaction was entirely anticipated. ‘You running for the police?’
‘I just found Mona’s dead body!’
Quietly, as though he had to mark
this statement with utmost respect, he responded, ‘I know.’
‘You killed her!’
‘No,’ he said slowly. ‘That’s the irony.
I didn’t kill her.’ He was watching me as though I was an unexploded bomb. He
eased forward. Gravel shifted in an ominous crunch under his shoe.
Fright and anger tore like double
blades in my heart. I blurted, ‘Mona found out about you, didn’t she? Confronted
you. Threatened to blow your can of worms right open.’
He cocked his head. I had let him
know I knew a little bit more about him than he would have liked. I wondered whether
I had made a mistake – whether I should thank Jake for his information or not.
Unnerved by his silence, I gabbled
on: ‘You had to give her that cock and bull story about being away for one
night. Where were you going? What were you planning? Then Sticky broke his leg
and you had to let her phone me. What happened? Did you have a row? Did she
refuse to go in the end? Did she leave you with no choice but to kill her here
and bury the body in the woods? You even wrote a note to let me think she’d
gone away happily with you. Where’ve you been all evening? Digging the grave?’
His intake of breath was sharp. ‘You
want the truth? I thought Mona had left and taken my car. I was about to leave
in hers when you rocked up. Nice parking, baby shoes.’
I felt disorientated. What was he
talking about? ‘You’ve been here all along? Since I arrived?’
‘No, I left. Shanks pony. I walked
away. You were the last person I needed in my life. Then I found my car on the
road. I thought that was poetic justice. Mona hadn’t gotten very far. So I went
to Wally Bunting and we managed to get the damn thing to his work yard. That’s
where I was. Then I came back to see if she – if Mona – had come back. And I
saw Max and Ron – ’ he paused. He effected an expression I couldn’t read. On a
gruff note, he went on, ‘I saw what you found in the shed. Mona never ran away.
Bunting’s bastard brother must have got her! That twisted piece of shit must
have attacked and killed her while I was with his brother this afternoon.’
There was a plausible note of
dismay in his voice. The Bunting name had been thrown in with casual assurance:
Wally, the nutcase who threw cricket balls at potential trespassers and his even
worse nutcase brother, Matthew, who had escaped from an institution . The
perfect duo to take the blame for murder.
I was silent, confused. This was
too clever, too slick. His play for innocence too easy. Had he seen Jake Adler?
Had he known his old friend was out for revenge? Did it matter? I was prime
witness, the only person who could connect the dots he’d hoped to erase.
Similar Books
