Page 85 of The Other Side

“Stan won’t stop until he finds whoever did it.”

“Neither will the police. Did Joan Motson and Sonita know one another?”

“In passing.” Lily looked away. When she spoke again, her voice was barely above a whisper. “I don’t feel safe.”

“Sit down.”

She did, and Drum took the chair beside her.

“Sonita made the mistake of leaving her spare key under a flowerpot outside the house. You don’t do that, do you?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Good. Keep your doors and windows locked. Don’t answer the door to anyone you don’t know. Keep your phone with you at all times, especially at night. And if it helps you sleep, wedge a chair under your bedroom door. If you hear anything that doesn’t sound right, ring the police immediately.”

She searched his face. “Is it a serial killer?”

Drum thought of the two women, of the way they’d died, and the care someone had taken to lay them out peacefully in their beds.

“It’s supposed to be three murders before there’s talk of a serial killer. Right now, what troubles me most is that I can’t see a motive. Not yet.”

He remembered a case he’d been given to study, when a young man had been arrested for murdering five elderly people simply because he hated old age. But this didn’t feel like that. Whoever had killed Sonita and Joan hadn’t done it in anger. After they were dead, the killer had arranged them with almost unsettling tenderness. The hair cutting thing bothered him, though. Anyone who watched a lot of TV knew that some killers liked to take trophies, but Drum thought that Sonita’s hair had likely been thrown down the toilet. So did the killer want it to look as though the murders were linked?

He stayed a while longer, doing his best to reassure Lily. He would have liked to ask about Sparlow, but she was frightened enough already, and he wasn’t prepared to make things worse.

Chapter Fourteen

Osian heard Drum’s vehicle pull up outside and went to open the door. Drum headed towards him through pouring rain and looked shattered. He walked straight into Osian’s arms and hugged him tight.

“Bad day?” Osian asked.

“Yep.”

“What can I do to make it better?”

“Take your clothes off?”

Osian laughed and pulled him inside. Drum locked the door.

“Want to eat first?” Osian asked.

“I’ve not eaten since breakfast.”

“Then you definitely need to eat. Quiche, baked potato and salad?”

“Perfect.”

“And I made ice cream.”

“You made it?”

“I’m not just a pretty face.”

Drum laughed. That was better. The smile had lifted a little weight from his shoulders.

“Want to tell me about your day?” Osian asked. “Would it help?”

“Another old lady murdered. This time in the assisted-living facility I gave a talk at this morning. Not while I was giving the talk. I think it was the same person who murdered Sonita.”