A voice bellowed from above, sounding robotic through the soil. ‘Say it again.’
‘I’m sorry.’ She fidgeted and flexed her legs. Someone had heard her. She could get out of this. As she waited in silence for the earth to be dug away and the box to open, she was then faced with her end as another thud of earth rained down. She lay there thinking of Bella and Oliver as the news was broken, that their mother was a victim of the coffin killer. She only hoped the truth of her own past would remain buried with her, Penny, and Alex. Death was the better option rather than her children knowing what a real-life monster she was. She was sorry, for everything, but the sorry had come too late. Maybe in some cases, sorry would never be enough. When she had seen Isaac kiss her captor at the party back then, that had been it. She knew she had to make the girl pay and what she’d brewed up was more than just the initiation that they had planned. A joke turned sour.
She sobbed as she delved further, remembering their victim’s eyes staring back at her, pleading for an end to it all. Those eyes were what mattered now. Her final moments would be dedicated to that person while she took her punishment. Justice was being served.
As she wheezed on the inhale, she accepted the fatigue that had replaced the shivering and smiled as she slipped into another world, that of her sitting by the ghost lake with her vodka. She was sinking it all, every last drop, with a smile on her face.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
‘Where’s Lucy?’ Gina shouted as she leaned over the counter at the café. She held her identification up as she pushed to the front of the queuing tradespeople. The teenage girl passed a takeaway coffee to the man in the overall.
‘Erm, I dunno. She doesn’t tell me where she is when she’s not working.’ She wiped her hands on her apron and nodded an apology to the couple who had just come through the door and taken a seat.
‘How about Lucy’s father? Bill Manders.’
‘Oh, the old man. He’s not here either. They’re probably at home as they’re not on the rota for today. They don’t work every day.’
The hum of people had dropped to silent as Gina stood there. She glanced around then back at Jacob. ‘Keep trying to call her.’ He nodded and stepped outside to make the call. ‘Can we talk, around the back?’
One of the other overall-clad men in the queue sighed and stormed out of the café, leaving two women in paint-splattered overalls. ‘I don’t know. I’m kinda busy.’
‘This is urgent.’
‘Are they okay?’ Her false lashes made a little batting noise every time she blinked.
‘I don’t know. May we?’ Gina held her arm out towards the storeroom.
‘Just take a seat everyone, I’ll be around to take your orders in a minute. Sorry, guys.’ She removed her apron and led Gina through to the staff area.
‘Lucy’s going to go mad if we get loads of shit reviews on Tripadvisor because of this.’
‘I think Lucy has more to worry about than her Tripadvisor reviews. When did you last see Lucy or Bill?’ Gina leaned up against the open pantry door.
‘Yesterday. Bill came to lock up but Lucy wasn’t with him. He said Lucy hadn’t been feeling too well. With hygiene regulations and working with food, they asked me if I’d work for the rest of the week and left me with a key to open up. I’m only part-time, you see. What’s going on?’
Gina swallowed. ‘That’s what we’re trying to find out. How has Lucy seemed this past week, when you did see her?’
‘She puts on a big smile for the world, but I know she’s not right. I’ve caught her sitting right here, staring at the walls. One day, she didn’t even hear me talking to her. Maybe she wasn’t feeling too well then.’
Gina checked her watch. There was no point delaying. Maybe Lucy’s house held the answer. With a life at risk and Lucy being their main suspect, they were going in. Gina caught sight of all the handwritten memos on the wall. It was the way she wrote an ‘e’ that gave her away. The same half an eight ‘curly e’ was on the handwritten order in Gina’s pocket. That ‘e’ had been the same in the diary excerpt left in her car, and the notes on the board in front of her confirmed that it was Lucy, but why? Gentle, friendly Lucy. The happy, smiley woman who serves coffee and brightens everyone’s day up, the woman who runs a café with her lovely father, Bill. It was now time to find out. ‘I best let you get back to your customers. Sorry for keeping you.’
‘I hope everything’s okay.’ The girl fed her apron back over her head as Gina hurried back to the street where Jacob was ending his call.
‘Call for backup. Let’s get to Lucy and Bill Manders’s house in Stoke Prior.’
The three-storey Victorian gothic house stood back at the end of a long, winding, tree-lined drive. Weeds grew up from the old tarmacked drive and what was once a fountain was now covered in oak leaves, the basin filled with old bricks and moss. Gina hurried out of the car and took the five steps up to the grand front door as Jacob followed. She zipped her protective jacket up, ready for what might come their way. Ivy had all but covered the front of the house concealing most of the old brickwork. She pulled the vine away from the doorbell and revealed a broken plaque. First word unknown, second word carpentry and she bit her lip as she saw the carving of the lion underneath, a lion that was far more accomplished than the attempts on the coffins. She banged hard and opened the letterbox. A spindly spider fled for its life, attaching its web to Gina’s hand. She flinched and shook it away. ‘Lucy, Bill, open up. It’s DI Harte. Gina from the café. We need to talk to you.’
‘They’re either not in or not answering, guv. I’ll head around the back.’ He left her at the front, knocking.
She moved back, taking one step at a time. Everywhere she looked, it felt as though the house was watching; its imposing size and proportions were threatening in their own way. A flurry of crispy leaves drifted down as the wind howled. This ghost symbol had to be referring to this house. She’d never seen a creepier house in all her life. It made the squat look like the Wacky Warehouse. The smeared windows reflected stony skies and wavering trees, that same smeary mess distorting everything in the natural world. Gina tried to tiptoe on the drive but the main windows at the front were too high to peer through. She caught sight of a little window at the base of the building. It was a cellar. She leaned over the cast iron railings and peered through, all she could see was a dust-covered workshop full of shelves and tools. Full bin bags filled one end of the room.
Another two cars pulled up. Wyre and O’Connor got out of one and PCs Smith and Kapoor out of another.
Smith zipped up his jacket, checking that his baton and stab proof vest were all in place. Gina did the same. It was getting real. ‘More backup is on the way, guv.’
She nervously smiled. Fear and excitement coursed through her veins. ‘I’m heading around the back with Jacob. Keep an eye out here. Don’t go in until I say.’
They nodded while getting into place, either side of the front door. Smith gripped the Enforcer.
