SEVEN DEADLY THINGS (Henry & Sparrow Book 3) by A FOX (new ebook reader .txt) 📕

cabin,’ said Grant. He hastened away, calling back over his shoulder, ‘Wash up meeting at six o’clock?’

‘Yeah — that’ll be great,’ said Lucas. ‘Sorry,’ he turned to Grace and squeezed her arm. ‘I really have to go.’ And he really did. He hadn’t been planning to leave for another hour but something in the vibrations emanating from that distant disturbance was making him very uneasy.

‘Go on then — get going!’ she said, shooing him away. ‘Do what you need to do! Say what you need to say! Just promise me you’ll come back and tell me all about it afterwards!’

‘I promise,’ he said, all but running to get into his leathers. Five minutes later he was on the road back to Suffolk, anxiety gnawing at his insides. He had texted Kate on the number she’d called through on last night: I’m heading out to you now. Will call when I get there. Something’s going on. Watch your step.

Rain was beginning to fall as he shot down the A146, sending an oily sheen across the tarmac and forcing him to slow down. It wasn’t a much slower journey than last night, but it seemed to take forever and then, as he passed a golf course and its thin screening of trees, Sid began to vibrate urgently against his skin. He pulled over to a gritty lay-by which led into an uneven track. He shivered, remembering a time not long ago when he’d come to grief along a similar track. He wasn’t keen to travel this one as the rain pelted down harder and the clouds seemed to darken even with his thoughts.

He killed the Triumph’s engine and set it on its stand, pulling off his helmet and glancing along the track. It didn’t go far and there was an overgrown area of scrub and spindly trees leading off it. There was also, tucked away behind a thick clump of blossoming hawthorn, a white car. He stepped closer to it and noted the registration. The Audi was new — one of this year’s plates, he was pretty sure. It was a slick, expensive, hybrid model, clearly kept in excellent condition. What the hell was it doing parked here, its wheels deep in muddy ruts? If he’d found a Land Rover or some other four-by-four he wouldn’t have given it much thought, but this?

He took off his gloves and traced his fingers along the driver’s side. As they met the gleaming metal door handle he felt a stab of shock.

‘Oh shit, not another body,’ he moaned aloud, glancing around. But there was no body inside the car, which was locked. Nothing nearby that he could see or sense. There wasn’t a killer here, either, but this car was connected to death, more than one death… deaths that had occurred somewhere within a five kilometre radius, he was certain.

The next thing he was certain of was that this car was also linked to Martin Riley. The patterns screamed the connection at him. Fresh patterns. Vibrant, intense, local patterns. He gulped again, feeling his insides shift and tumble like the landslip he’d sensed less than an hour ago.

He got on the bike, checking his phone for a return text from Kate. There was nothing. Should he text her again? No. He was minutes away from her. It was time to find her. Right now.

The walk along the beach didn’t help their mood much. It was late morning by the time they’d all got themselves together and headed for the sea. Francis had declined to join them, saying he wanted to check out a snooker tournament in the sports hall. ‘It’s OK,’ he’d told Kate, fresh from the shower and towel-drying his hair. ‘I’ll be with people — not on my own, waiting to be picked off by the Beast of Buntin’s. Anyway, I’m not one of the Magnificent Seven. You’re the one I’m worried about.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ she’d reassured him. ‘I’ll be with Talia, Craig and Nikki on the beach, getting some air and trying to get our heads around what happened last night. Then we’ve all got to speak to DS Stuart again at two. You’ll have to be there as well, OK?’

‘Sure,’ he’d said. ‘But I’m going off to hustle at the green baize first! There’s this hot red-headed Bluecoat running the tournament. Come and find me when you’re done on the beach… but don’t cramp my style if it looks like I’m getting somewhere.’

She was glad he’d headed off for his own fun. She didn’t think he’d get much of it from hanging out with them. Four of the seven, trying to act like it was still possible to enjoy themselves after one had upped and left and another two were dead. She still hadn’t mentioned Lucas to him, not wanting to share a whole extra layer of tension when he was planning to have some lighthearted fun with a cue and a bit of flirting.

They passed a line of kids marching back up with the two Children’s Aunty Bluecoats, all chatting excitedly. Kate smiled at Ellie, the one they’d spoken to yesterday, as she passed, but Ellie literally had her hands full — about two children per hand, in fact. She didn’t notice.

‘Remember when we all went off together like something out of the Famous Five, on our morning off?’ Craig said, as they walked down the narrow, silty path towards a short bank of stones, which dropped steeply to the lacy white edge of the North Sea. ‘When we took a picnic and explored all the old huts..?’

‘I remember they stank of piss and we found a used condom in one of them,’ said Nikki. ‘It put me off my corned beef sandwich. And didn’t someone have a panic attack in one of them? Claustrophobia or something..?’

‘It was fun, though, wasn’t it?’ Craig persisted. ‘Like the last few weeks of childhood. Before we had to grow up and get proper jobs out in the big wide world.’