Mate. Find. Alone.Thank you, oh-so-helpful wolf of mine. I swiped the back of my hand across my face, and put the SUV back into gear. Another dead end.
Sorley’s phone vibrated. I caught his expression in the rear view mirror. “What?”
“Take the next left on this road, then drive about five hundred yards and pull over.” Was it me, or did he seem to be sitting up straighter? I frowned, but did as he told me, wondering what Baxter’s whispered, ‘So not the time,’ was in reference to. I didn’t have the capacity to ponder any weird vampire shorthand. My mate needed me.
As I engaged the handbrake, a large black van pulled up in front of us, the bumper almost kissing mine. I looked up with a scowl that died on my face as Eleanor waved to me from the driver’s seat.
“What the fuck?” But she was already exiting the vehicle, as was…bloody hell, Dalziel, from the passenger side.
“Sorry it took so long,” he said, encompassing all of us with one quick glance. “Where are we going?”
“Get in. I’ll tell you on the way.” Everyone piled in, the way Baxter and Sorley deferred to Dalziel obvious in the way they scrambled into the back with Eleanor, leaving Dalziel to ride next to me. I took off, after punching in the coordinates for our next sweep of the area.
“How the heck did you get here, Dalziel? It’s roughly a seven hour drive. You must have started in daylight.”
His exhale was slow and deliberate. “The van is kitted out for emergency travel.” Okay, I guess I didn’t need to know.
“What’s the plan?” Eleanor asked.
“Find Charley and bust him out.” I’d accept nothing less.
I saw Dalziel’s jaw tick. “I meant the details. Baxter’s been keeping me up to date, but I suspect if we split up again, we can cover more ground. I just need to know everywhere you’ve been, so we can be thorough without duplicating our efforts.”
“Oh, right. Of course. Um, well if we do this one first, then I’ll take you back to your van…?” I tailed off, realising perhaps I could have spent five minutes actually listening first, which would have saved us all time. I sighed, and tried to work out how to apologise.
Dalziel palmed my forearm as I changed gear. “Please, it’s fine. You are anxious to find him. I understand.”
We split up, Dalziel taking Sorley with him — halle-fucking-lujah. We kept Eleanor, whose presence helped to counter the vamp stench in my upholstery. She insisted on taking the spreadsheet from Baxter, freeing up the vamp’s superior night vision to do what Eleanor couldn’t.
At some point I had to refuel. Baxter insisted I bought an energy drink at the same time, baring her sizeable fangs at me when I tried to protest. I hated she was right, because the ingredients did give me a much-needed boost. I rolled my shoulders, and glanced back at Eleanor. “Where to now?”
“A road called, hold up, that can’t be right. Oh, it is. Hangman’s Corner.” She shuddered delicately on my back seat. “Some incredibly gory place names around here, and I work for Dalziel. You’d think I’d be used to gothic.”
An amused snort bubbled up from the back of my throat. “That’s Suffolk for you. If we can’t lose you in a maze of country lanes, we’re happy to give you nightmares in your holiday cottage.” I grinned lop-sidedly at Baxter. “I know the area. Thatcher’s Hollow. Might have spent some ill-advised time there at illegal parties in my teens.” My humour abated as fast as it had appeared. “Oh god, we’re running out of places to look that even qualify as Tratton.”
She squeezed my thigh. “Nah, we’re not. We’ll find him.”
I didn’t share her confidence, but I appreciated it. I drove on, slowing down at Hangman’s Corner because it was a known accident spot, and I had no wish to become a statistic. We’d been searching for hours, and I was tiring, but there was no way I’d admit it. We cruised the lanes in the area, Baxter craning her neck to check for outbuildings and houses hidden behind tall hedges. At this point, we were stopping to check out even a weirdly-shaped gate, or an oversized dog kennel, and I was trying not to let the despair I was feeling show on my face.
We headed carefully down yet another country lane. “There’s nothing here but ruins,” I said, “unless someone with more money than sense has bought a field off a local farmer.” As if confirming my statement, I took the car past the burnt-out remains of an old cottage. There were rumours about the place, but I’d never been bothered enough to check them out.
“Looks spooky,” Eleanor remarked, also sounding weary.
As the SUV took the next corner, something slammed into my hind brain. I’d seen something. Or had I? Was I so knackered I was hallucinating now?
I slowed the car a fraction, and Baxter gave me a sharp look. “What?”
“I dunno. Probably nothing.” I hesitated, one hand on the gear stick, slowing down even more.
“Go back,” she urged. “You shouldn’t deny your instincts. Probably nothing, but let’s check it out anyway.”
I slammed the brakes on at the next bend in the road where it widened slightly, then did the fastest and clumsiest three point turn of my life.
Idling in front of the burnt-out cottage, I cut the SUV’s lights and stared through the windscreen. There was no sign of life. No obvious tyre tracks, and yet…
I crawled the car forwards, and focused in tight on a clump of trees to the edge of the property. Behind them was a shack I knew had been there for ever. It had been in a permanent state of disrepair for as long as I’d known it existed. The shed was still its unremarkable self.
But, over the ground in front of the shed, it was snowing gently, in a circle no more than six feet across. If it had been any other day, I’d have sworn I was seeing things. Now, however…
