A Long Day in Lychford (Lychford #3)(9)

Autumn stumbled out of the interview room, trying to restrain her trembling. In the reception area, she found Shaun, who now looked a little guilty himself. He gave her a significant look, waited until another copper had walked past, then moved close enough to whisper to her. “Just doing our job, you know.”

“It’s okay.” Because now she was in a mood to be charitable, and he’d been fine, honestly. He couldn’t help . . . unconsciously condemning her. No, stop thinking like that, Autumn.

“Turns out an old lady called it in. You woke her up. She saw you walk off just like you said you did, and saw Rory go the other way. And bless her, she stayed awake and kept watching.”

“Oh thank God.”

“She was afraid for him, and thought from what you’d been yelling that you might go back after him.”

It took Autumn a moment to process that. “From what I’d been yelling?! Didn’t she hear what he was—?!”

“It’s not me saying this.”

“No, no you’re right. Sorry. Hey, you said two missing persons. Who’s the other?”

“A lorry driver. The transponder on his vehicle said he’d swerved off the road, then it stopped working. Which is often a sign the rig’s been hijacked. Hard to see how it all fits together. I suppose it’s possible that three different illegal things this big have happened at once by coincidence. But that’d be three times more than we’ve ever had in any given year. Still. Maybe times are changing.” That beaten down look had returned to his face. At least now it wasn’t about her.

“Thanks, Shaun. Listen, if you see your Mum—”

“What?”

Autumn paused. No, maybe not. That was something she should do herself. If she was going to do it at all.

*

Lizzie had been looking open-mouthed between what was on Judith’s kitchen floor and Judith herself, as the old witch had told her what it meant. Then she’d had to have a sit down, and Judith had told her where to find the tea to make herself a cup. “We’ll need to wait a while before the stupid girl can get here,” she’d said.

‘Where is she now? And don’t call her—”

“In the circumstances,” Judith had muttered, “I intend to call her a lot more than that.”

Lizzie had spent the next hour or so walking up and down the kitchen, avoiding the pool of liquid, worrying and checking the step count on her wrist. Finally, the doorbell rang.

It was indeed Autumn, who entered with her hands above her head, exclaiming, “You would not believe the morning I’ve had.”

“We would,” said Judith. “Look.” And she pointed at the floor.

Autumn stopped and stared too.

On the usually spotless kitchen floor, as Lizzie had discovered when she first got here, was a pool of water, only it was reflecting the sunlight more brightly than ordinary water would. Judith poked the pool with the toe of her fluffy slipper. It rippled, and on its surface suddenly appeared a frozen image of Autumn outside the police station.

Autumn closed her eyes. “You have no right to—”

“Let’s not start about who’s got the right to do what,” said Judith sharply. “More important, there’s this.” She picked up a washing-up liquid bottle from her sink and squeezed something onto the surface of the pool. The picture changed.

Lizzie was once again looking at the image Judith had shown her before. It was the wall of someone else’s kitchen. On it was a wobbling red circle, like a heat haze made flesh. “Only we can see that,” Lizzie explained to Autumn.

“Where is this?”

“Don’t you recognise it?” asked Judith.

Autumn was frowning, deeply upset. “No,” she finally whispered.

“What about this?” Judith kicked the image and it swung round to reveal the black silhouette of a person, with limbs flailing in all directions, that was embedded in the opposite wall.

“And only we can see that too—” Lizzie began.

Autumn cut her off. “I don’t need a running commentary. Where is this?”

“I think,” growled Judith, “you two had better come with me.”

*

Autumn walked briskly beside Judith as they headed to her shop. She didn’t want to think; she didn’t want to let her memory go where it wanted to. That kitchen in the picture had seemed horribly familiar, and she was starting to realise . . . oh God no, it couldn’t be true. That distant music was still beating away, meaninglessly.

She unlocked the door of the shop and the three of them went inside, Lizzie with that terrible calm on her face that she reserved for the ordinary horrors that vicars encountered. She kept trying to make reassuring eye contact, but Autumn couldn’t bring herself to accept that comfort. Judith led them through toward the back room, the workroom.

The smell hit her as they approached. The smell from what was inside.

And Autumn started to remember the last time she’d come here.

She rushed toward the door to her lab. She had to get there first. She flung it open.

She fell against the wall inside, coughing.

The stench was overpowering. In the past, Judith had worked on the rest of the shop so that the smells in here wouldn’t escape to where the customers were, or rather, to where her own nose usually was. Ingredients bags and boxes were lying open all around. Autumn saw that some of what was causing the smell was still bubbling on a pot by the sink.