Page 59 of Serenity Falls

‘Look’ – Jerry adopts a more friendly tone – ‘I know you’re not here wasting my time on purpose. You genuinely believe you saw something. By all means, talk to the home security team. But give it a couple of days. Get some sleep. If it happens again and you have some evidence, come back to me.’ Another smug smile. ‘But I think you’ll find everything will be fine once you’re more settled.’

Jerry sits back in his chair. His cell phone vibrates on the desk. He stares at it. I stare at it. It keeps vibrating. I nod at the phone. ‘Don’t mind me.’

He grunts, snaps his notebook closed, then picks the phone up and says curtly to me: ‘Excuse me a moment.’

He walks quickly out of the office. I see him outside the window, walking up and down, phone pressed to his ear, scowling. I guess the ‘no phones in public spaces’ rule doesn’t apply to Jerry. I stare at his vast desk, at the closed notebook. I glance back out of the window, then, on an impulse, I reach forward and pick the notebook up. I flick through the pages. Every single one is blank until I get about a third of the way through to the page he must have just been writing on. It’s got a fresh coffee splodge on it.

I stare at the page. Just one sentence has been written down:

Mascot. Messages. Alert LH.

I blink. What the fuck? I whip out my phone and take a picture of the page. Evidence, I think with grim satisfaction. Then I shut the notebook and slide it back across the desk, just as Jerry walks back into the room.

He looks annoyed and preoccupied. ‘I’ve got some business I need to take care of, so if we’re done here, Mr Barker?’

No, we’re not done. Not at all. But right now, I really want to get out of his cramped, stuffy office and get my thoughts together.

I push the chair back and stand. ‘Thanks for all your … help.’

‘Any time,’ Jerry says, either oblivious or indifferent to my sarcasm.

‘Right. Well, goodbye.’

I walk out of the office and back outside. The humidity swamps me, but it’s still preferable to sitting with Jerry any longer. I pause by the SUV and look around. There’s a café a few shops down. I’m thirsty, and I’m still chewing over what Jerry wrote in his notebook. I climb into the SUV and park it down a side street. Then I walk back to the café, find an empty table under an umbrella and wait for someone to take my order. From here, I can see across the street to the sheriff’s office. Jerry doesn’t come out and leap into his car, so I’m guessing the son of a bitch lied about having somewhere to be.

However, a few minutes later, as I’m halfway down my coffee, I see another car pull up. It doesn’t bother trying to park next to Jerry but deliberately blocks him in. I raise an eyebrow. The car is a classic baby-blue Cadillac. Mint condition. Chrome trim gleams in the sunshine. Nice. I wonder who it belongs to. My question is answered almost immediately.

Giles Lockhart climbs out and walks inside.

Lockhart. What the hell is he doing here? My brain fumbles for a moment with the significance. And then it clicks. I pull out my phone and check the picture I took. Just to be certain.

Mascot. Messages. Alert LH.

Alert LH.

Lockhart.

Shit.

17

Sadie stares around the table.

‘You’re serious?’

School in the UK has taught her to be suspicious. Guarded. Trust no one. Treat every hand of friendship as if it’s holding a loaded grenade. Could this be some elaborate wind-up? Some ritual of humiliation for the new girl? Possibly. But the faces staring back at her look genuine.

‘Why would someone want to kill Frankie?’

‘Million-dollar question.’ Ramona smirks.

Sadie tries a different tack. ‘But you said yourselves, it was supposed to be this guy Chris in the costume. Have you spoken to him?’

Another exchange of glances. ‘We would,’ Dax says. ‘But he’s disappeared.’

‘The house is locked up, cars gone,’ Ramona continues. ‘Like the whole family just upped and left.’

‘They could be on holiday?’