Bad Sister(32)
Realising the time, Connie got up to leave. She had to get back for her next client in half an hour and didn’t want to have to rush up the hill. She balled up the empty paper bag which had held her ham and salad sandwich and deposited it into the bin at the water’s edge. She looked up, a parting glance towards Steph and Dylan.
Her breath caught.
A man, wearing a baseball cap, black hoody and dark jeans, seemed to be looking in their direction too. But he was on their side of the river, hovering near the café, just feet away from the pirate ship. Was it Connie’s imagination or did Steph’s demeanour change? She watched helplessly as Steph grabbed Dylan, bundling him into her as they began making their way down the ladder of the ship to the ground. Was that panic, fear?
The man moved forward. Connie was too far away to get to them – she’d need to cross over the bridge and walk through the outskirts of a housing estate, it would take too long.
‘Steph!’ The shout left her mouth. But Steph didn’t turn. Connie walked briskly along the raised path running alongside the river’s edge, a good fifteen feet above the river bed, to position herself directly opposite the pirate ship. The man was getting closer to Steph, who’d now jumped down from the ladder and was reaching up to Dylan. She watched as Steph turned her head in his direction. It would be now that she’d notice if his presence was a real problem; she’d tell by Steph’s reaction.
Steph didn’t miss a beat, she immediately pulled Dylan from the step. Connie’s breaths were coming rapidly; shallow and loud. She rummaged in her bag, trying to maintain the visual of the man as she did so. Her fingers clasped her mobile; she fumbled but managed to press the first nine. She hesitated, looked up. Steph had taken Dylan’s hand and they were now running in the opposite direction to the man, heading down the road that led to the housing estate. Why didn’t she run into the café, raise the alarm? Connie sidestepped along the edge of the river, squinting now at the retreating figures of Steph and Dylan. The man shouted something. Connie couldn’t make it out. What the hell is going on? He stopped. Connie’s grip on her phone loosened. Was it over? The man leant against the pirate ship, but he still seemed to be watching the two figures. Steph and Dylan disappeared out of Connie’s line of sight. They must’ve been out of his sight, too. She breathed out. Her heart felt as though it was hitting against her ribs. Her chest hurt.
Was that Brett? Had he found her?
The man stayed propped against the pirate ship, not moving. Connie lifted her phone again to take a picture, but her fingers trembled and she couldn’t seem to press the capture button. It was too far away for a clear image anyway, but it would have been better than nothing. Just in case.
Just in case what?
The man suddenly pushed away from the side of the ship. Connie looked away, began to move off, back towards the footpath. She tilted her head slightly towards where he’d been. But he wasn’t there. Connie scanned quickly along the edge, trying to locate him. He couldn’t have gone far.
A chill consumed her stomach. He was dead opposite her.
He’d seen her. And now he was watching her, walking quickly, keeping up with her.
She quickened her steps and progressed diagonally across the grassy area towards the gateway leading back to the road. He couldn’t catch up with her, she knew that, but her skin prickled with fear nonetheless. He didn’t know her; he couldn’t have known she’d been watching. There was nothing to be afraid of.
Think rationally, Connie.
But it was surprising how rational thought could leave you when someone was following you.
Connie’s footsteps turned into a jog. It wasn’t until she was back on the pavement near the busy road that she chanced a look back.
The man had gone.
She kept her mobile in her hand as she walked back up the hill, taking a look over her shoulder every few steps. She couldn’t see him. He wasn’t tailing her. She gave another furtive look around before she let herself into her building.
There was going to be a lot to cover with Steph in tomorrow’s session.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
DI Wade
Lindsay Wade reverse-parked the Volvo into the last available on-road parking spot, impressed with herself that she’d squeezed it into such a tight space. She’d been lucky; if she hadn’t been able to park there, it would’ve meant driving around all the narrow side roads with little hope of being able to park close to 34, Fisher Road. Due to its proximity to the town, many people used these roads as free parking rather than the pay and display car parks in the town centre. They really should make it residents’ parking only.
With DC Sewell by her side, they approached the terraced house. Two women seemed the best approach given the sensitivity of the situation. Going back over the past would be traumatic enough, without adding the complication of asking for alibis from Katie Watson and her family members – which openly hinted that the police were thinking they could be responsible for her attacker’s death. It might be better coming from the two women, rather than Mack or any of the male officers. Lindsay was leaving the interviewing of the males of the family to them; she was happy to take the criticism – the inevitable sexist remarks that would fly her way.
Lindsay assumed the woman who opened the door and greeted them with a pallid complexion and red-rimmed eyes was Katie.