“Come on,” he says. “Come back out to play. I’ve been a very good boy.”
The moor grass rustles beneath his feet as he moves. She can’t have gone far. She must be aching and confused as she stumbles through the dark. And yet she has managed to evade him twice now and that is starting to make him angry.
Movement. The barest hint of it to his right. He spins, picking up the sight of her with the torchlight. He breaks into a sprint, his boots sliding on the damp grass. He’s moving up an incline, his thighs working hard. His foot slips and he reaches out, grabbing hold of the grass to steady himself. A breath squeezes out of his lungs as he pushes himself forward.
Her panting breaks the silence. She must be struggling now. He sees her fifty-year-old body lumbering up ahead, arms pumping. He reaches the top of the incline and stumbles down, letting the momentum accelerate him towards her. The torch shudders as he moves, revealing her position every other second. In one flash she’s staring over her shoulder, her eyes wide with terror as he approaches.
“No!” she cries out.
He runs. He throws every last effort into gaining on her.
“Please!” she begs.
He raises the torch. It’s metal cased and solid. He throws himself forward, bringing the torch down on the back of her skull. There is a loud crunch as she folds in on herself, hitting the ground. Her body drops so quickly that he trips over her, losing his balance and stumbling down the hill. His feet lose control, and his arms grab at the air around him, touching nothing but the cold night breeze. His next contact with the ground is his head smashing against a rock. Then the torch goes out.
His mind swims. The blow almost knocked him out. When he lifts his fingers to his temple they touch the warm, wetness of blood. That isn’t good. He’s leaving DNA all over this moor. Enough for a sniffer dog to trail. A deep echoing pain rumbles across his forehead and his vision blurs. He rests his head against the ground and pulls in a few deep breaths. The night seems darker all of a sudden.
Do not go to sleep, he thinks.She must not get away.Do not close your eyes.
But it is the second time he reminds himself not to fall asleep that a dark veil slips over him, and he drifts into unconsciousness.
CHAPTER11
FAYE
This man has caused me a lot of harm, and I need answers.
I step into the café and scan the faces. Luckily Jason uses a photo of himself as his profile picture, so I find him quickly. He’s sitting at a small table at the back of the open space. He gives me an awkward wave and I nod before heading to the counter to order a cappuccino.
He stands when I approach the table with my coffee, offering me a hand to shake. “You must be Faye. My sister loved your books when we were kids.”
I clock his age. Early thirties, I think. He’s attractive, with dark brown eyes and black hair, but dresses very outdoorsy, a battered old backpack slumped at his feet.
I quickly shake his hand, then sit. “Thanks for agreeing to meet me.”
He has trouble meeting my gaze and I can immediately tell that he feels guilty for what he did. But is that guilt for posting the photo, or for editing it?
“No problem. I just hope I can help,” he says.
“Did you also read my books as a child?” I ask. “Have you been following them all these years?”
“Umm, I must admit, they’re not really my thing.” He shrugs with an uneasy grin.
I can’t help but smile at his brutal honesty, that is if he’s telling the truth.
“And you didn’t recognise me that day?”
He shakes his head. “Sorry, no. I’m sorry about all this,” he says. “I only wanted to make sure you were safe. And… are you… okay?”
I bristle at this, sensing the familiar patronising tone coming on. “Perfectly. I’m here, aren’t I?” My gaze trails over to the window where people walk past with their dogs, and kids run along with ice cream cones gripped by tiny fingers.
He grimaces before saying, “I did go up to you, but you ran away. I quickly snapped a few photos to share on social media, to see if anyone could help identify you and make sure you were all right.”
“What happened when you approached…? What did I say?”
“Nothing,” he says. “You ignored me and ran down the street.”
“And it was near Seeley Moor?” My mind goes back to Tina from the pub saying she had seen me up there.
