Cherringham--Trail of Lies Page 7

  Ray nodded as if that all made sense, then shook his head.

  “Directions? Jack, doesn’t your damn phone have that thing? Y’know, that lady who tells you stuff?”

  Jack nodded.

  “Does indeed. But, this location, doubt she’d know. Whereas you …”

  Jack gestured to the gloomy inside. “Mind if I come in for a bit?”

  And Ray now squinted, nodded, and opened the door, reluctantly letting some of that fresh air and daylight in.

  *

  Sarah parked in front of the modest house of Holly Wilson and her mum.

  No other car parked nearby.

  Maybe Holly and her mum weren’t home?

  Still. Worth a shot, Sarah thought.

  And she jumped out of her Rav-4 and walked to the front door. Pressed the bell and heard a muted chime from inside.

  The door opened, and Holly was there, holding one of those puppies.

  In the girl’s eyes, something new.

  Confusion perhaps? At seeing Sarah back again?

  “Um, oh hi.”

  “Holly. How you doing?”

  Sarah reached out and scratched the puppy’s head who, with a tilt in the direction of Sarah’s hand, showed — like all puppies — he believed nothing beats a good scratch on the head.

  “I was hoping I might talk to you, just a bit more.”

  The look on Holly’s face deepened.

  When they had first spoken, Holly’s eyes had clearly been puffy with tears, the sadness of the funeral still visible.

  But this look — different.

  “Mum’s out. Had things to do.” Holly looked around as if realising that what she’d just said didn’t really have any relevance. Then, with a hint of forced brightness: “Suppose you can come in. Yeah.” She opened the door wider with her free hand.

  Sarah smiled. Everyone that she and Jack had spoken to had lied to them in one way or another.

  Now, she was going to lie.

  The goal simple. First, to get at the truth. And then, something perhaps even more intriguing. The other question …

  Why the lies?

  *

  “You know the guy I mean, Ray? This Josh fellow?”

  Ray slumped back onto his easy chair — craters of stuffing erupting from its seat cushion and back. The chair’s colour — a once-deep maroon — had turned a ruddy, muddy brown with smoke and age.

  Ray scratched his head.

  “Yeah, yeah, sure. That nutter …”

  “Nutter? What do you mean, Ray?”

  “Well, I mean … The bloke’s — what do you yanks say? — a crackpot? Always protesting this and protesting that. Bloody nuisance. I put in a few days last summer up at the turkey farm. Day work — good money, it was. And he and a bunch of his veggie friends showed up! Stopped the damn trucks. Some nonsense about ‘rights’ for turkeys. What about my rights to earn a few bob, eh?”

  Ray growled and turned to the nearby standing ashtray … and began fishing.

  Probably looking for a joint remnant that had just a smidge left, Jack guessed.

  Ray continued talking while his trained fingers probed the ashy discard pile.

  “Like I said, a nutter. Always bloody protesting.”

  “You have any idea where his place is? Where he lives?”

  “Yup. Sometimes kids like to trek out there, the older ones you know, looking for a little — dunno — fun. Throw things at the shack. Get a rise out of him. Yeah, so kinda well known where he lives. Out in the bloody woods, all alone.”

  Jack nodded and pulled out his trail map of the area. Still circled, was the site where the girls had camped.

  “Near here?”

  “Nah. Not really. It’s—” Ray leaned forward, straining to see in the saloon’s dingy light.

  Jack slipped out his phone and swiped to get the flashlight on.

  “Bloody hell, that is bright. Remember when phones used to be, you know just phones?”

  Jack nodded, then pointed at the map, redirecting the easily distracted Ray.

  “So not near here … but close to the lake?”

  “Lake? You mean Blackwater. Sort of … it’s … there you go. Right about here.”

  Jack saw where Ray pointed. And though — yes — it wasn’t really near the girls’ camp, it was only a hike away, maybe a little over a mile, around the curve made by the dark hole of the water-filled quarry.

  “And to get there?”

  “Hmm. Don’t do a lot of driving myself. You know my car’s been out of action for a while.”

  Ray’s car, a rusting heap, more planter than vehicle, was parked in an open grassy area farther along the river. As far as Jack could tell, he couldn’t recall ever seeing it in motion.

  “But guess, you’d park about here? Or maybe where the kids go with them off-road things? A place where no one bothers them. Usually.”

  Jack looked at the spot. He saw a place to park even nearer and a way to hike through the woods … though no marked trail seemed to lead there. Then he flashed on a word that Ray just said.

  “Usually?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You said … that usually no one bothers the guys who go there. With their off-road vehicles.”

  Ray sat back in his chair and then said, “That I did …”

  *

  Holly had led Sarah into the kitchen, plopped the pup down, and turned on the kettle.

  “Got lots of tea,” she said, “English Breakfast, Earl Grey, mint …”

  “English Breakfast,” Sarah said quickly, pulling out one of the simple wooden kitchen chairs around the table.

  And even as Holly went about making the tea, Sarah could feel tension from the girl. This visit had taken Holly by surprise.

  And the more Sarah watched Holly, studied her reactions, the more it was clearly … an unwelcome surprise.

  Holly busied herself with the tea bags, cups and sugar, grabbing a small jug of milk from the fridge. The puppy she had been holding stayed at her feet as if hoping it might again be picked up.

  As they waited for the kettle to boil, Holly finally turned, a forced smile on her face.

  And Sarah thought, She’s not going to be ready for this …

  “Holly, I’ve just been talking to Jasmine. And she told me everything.”

  “Everything?” said Holly, her voice hardly a whisper.

  “What really happened that night. Up at the tents.”

  And at that, the girl’s half smile vanished, eyes widened.

  “I can see why she lied,” said Sarah. “But why did you?”

  “Oh, God.”

  And on cue, the kettle began shrieking.

  *

  “Thing is, Jack, old PC Rivers never bothers the blokes that go up there and race around. Enjoying their beer, their smokes. No harm done, no foul.”

  Jack nodded.

  “But this fellow you’re asking about? Thinks the whole bloody forest is his! Goes down there, yelling at them, making threats.”

  Jack listened. So far, what Ray had said matched his estimation of Josh pretty well.

  Seemed exactly like the type of thing Josh would do.

  “But he’s … harmless, hmm?”

  And at that, Ray looked to the side.

  “Oh, wouldn’t exactly say that, Jack. Not at all. Yeah, he goes yelling at those guys. Shouting, acting crazy. Bloody ‘eco-warrior’. But harmless? Hear he’s had a scrap with a few of them. And he can dish it. Know what I mean?”

  Ray had gone back to his prospecting amidst the pile of smoked joint ends, finally extracting one that passed muster.

  He lit it. Deep inhale. The next words said on the exhale: “Gotta tell you, Jack … from what I know … wouldn’t catch me messing with him.”

  Another deep inhale, killing the millimetres of what was left of the joint. Ray coughed. Then, when the waves of coughs subsided …

  “So, harmless? No way.”

  *

  Holly didn’t answer. The ke
ttle shrieked away.

  Sarah watched her turn back to the counter. Pour the boiling water into each cup.

  All this giving her plenty of time to think.

  And then the girl turned back, a cup in each hand. She placed one in front of Sarah, and the other across from her. The milk jug and small porcelain bowl with sugar sat in the middle of the table.

  Holly sat down.

  Clearly rattled.

  Sarah felt almost bad for her.

  “Holly. This is your one chance to set things straight. So we can find out what happened to Amy. That’s all.”

  Holly nodded dully. Still thinking.

  Staring into space, her focus locked on a point miles away.

  “W-what did Jasmine tell you?”

  “A lot,” said Sarah. “But I need to hear it from you.”

  “I—I … I’m not—” she looked up, “a liar. I’m not,” she repeated as if the double emphasis sealed the deal. “You have to understand that.”

  “I know, Holly.” She reached across the table and patted the girl’s hand. “I know.”

  Holly nodded at that. Took a breath.

  “That night — what happened …” She then shook her head ruefully. Someone in pain, reluctant to reveal something … confess something.

  Till now, Sarah hoped.

  And Sarah waited. The tea still too hot. Waiting for what was to come, and for Holly to begin.

  12. Back to the Woods

  Jack had left his Sprite parked below a wooded hill, a spot that looked like it should have been just a short trek to Josh’s shack.

  And a trek it turned out to be — grabbing at branches to pull himself up over scattered rocks and boulders.

  One thing was for sure — if someone wanted to access Josh’s place from this angle they’d have to work at it.

  Locals might know another way through, but, as far as Jack could tell from his map, this was the most direct spot.

  Finally, at the top of the roadside hill, the ground started levelling off.

  Still nothing here resembling a trail, but he held his Silva compass in his hand.

  And again, trusting Ray’s memory — probably not the wisest thing to do — Jack started heading northwest.

  As he did so, he had to admit, the woods here were beautiful, more rough and natural than what he had come to expect in the forests of England. Most places he hiked showed centuries of life, logging, domestication — the trails well worn.

  But this reminded him of the great Adirondack mountains, and the giant, untouched wooded areas where the silence and beauty could be so powerful.

  So isolated.

  In fact — a place you might want to be where no one could bother you.

  Is that why Josh picked this spot?

  As he started to trudge up a gentler slope to another rise, he saw something in the distance, beyond the top of that slope.

  A thin plume of smoke.

  A sign as ancient as they come.

  Someone ahead.

  Jack thought, Maybe Ray got it right after all.

  And he started to hurry now, his target close.

  When he got to the top of that slope, he was able to look down on a small depression, a bowl-shaped area where there was — indeed — a shack, an open campfire nearby.

  A log dragged nearby for a seat.

  And he saw Josh.

  With someone.

  The two of them in each other’s faces. A push from the other person, their back to Jack. Josh staggering away — then raising his arms as if about to defend himself.

  Jack dug out his field glasses, and quickly zoomed in, just in time to see the second man grab Josh by his shirt, yank him, then administer — at close range — a fist to the side of his face.

  The man let Josh go.

  He rolled to the ground, and then the other guy turned.

  And Jack could see … who it was that had just delivered a beating to Josh.

  *

  “Holly, now we know what Jasmine did that night, it’s your turn.”

  Sarah looked at the girl sitting opposite her — eyes darting, lips pursed, the tension almost unbearable. And Sarah didn’t like that she had to do this to Holly.

  But we need the truth, Sarah thought.

  No matter what.

  “You saw something. Right?”

  The girl picked up her teaspoon, stuck in the cup, idly giving the tea a swirl.

  Eyes still looking away, to the distance.

  Until—

  Finally, Holly’s eyes returned to Sarah.

  The girl licked her lips. But with her eyes finally on Sarah’s …

  “Yes. I did.”

  And as she spoke Sarah dug out her notebook and started to write down what Holly said.

  How Amy wasn’t alone out there, in the woods …

  *

  Callum …

  Jack recognised him even as he turned, shouting words to Josh sprawled on the ground, words that Jack couldn’t hear, before gesturing again with his fist and storming away.

  Another few minutes, and Jack would have felt obligated to race down there to break up the fight.

  Now, he watched Josh drag himself up slowly, in that cautious way someone does when they’ve been attacked … threatened.

  As if the attacker might come back.

  As Josh did so, Jack slid his binoculars back into his pack, and started down the slight incline to Josh’s camp.

  And with each step, Jack had to wonder …

  What in the world could that be about?

  Callum attacking Josh? For what reason?

  No easy way to get here, so had to be important.

  He was half tempted to follow Callum, back to where he must have left his red pickup, back where the silence of the woods would often be broken by the un-muffled roar of off-road vehicles and 4-wheel trucks.

  But no. He’d come here to speak to Josh.

  Only now, he had so much more to ask him about.

  *

  Just steps away, Josh looked over, aware that he wasn’t alone, eyes wide, frightened.

  Jack spotted a puffy bruise on his cheek.

  Josh started to open his mouth.

  Guy probably doesn’t get this many visitors.

  But Jack beat him to it …

  “Josh — you okay?”

  In answer, the skinny guy rubbed his face, feeling where the blow landed on his face.

  “Yeah, I—I’m fine.”

  But in his voice, and the way he stood there as if in shock, Jack knew he was anything but fine.

  “Couldn’t help but see that. Callum Foley, right? You two have some kind of problem?”

  Josh chewed at his lower lip, thinking — Jack guessed — that he’d have to come up with some explanation of what had just happened.

  “Him. His friends. I’m always at them to stop.”

  “Stop what, Josh?”

  “What they’re doing to these beautiful woods. Tearing through bushes, wrecking the forest. I’m on them …”

  Jack nodded and moved closer to the fire, the shack steps away. The makeshift bench of a log close.

  The shack itself was actually more of a shed. Barely a place to sleep, to keep out of the rain, the snow, the cold — not much more than that.

  “Got it. So, Callum came here to—”

  Again, Josh didn’t answer right away, taking his time.

  It was one thing to go accost the off-road people and get into a fight. But this? What would make Callum hike all the way here?

  To deliver a beating?

  A warning maybe? But about what?

  “Told you,” Josh said, not hiding the petulance in his voice. “They don’t like—”

  But Jack cut him off, shaking his head.

  “No. That’s not it, Josh — is it? See, you didn’t tell me that you had an ongoing problem with these local guys. And I got to tell you, that had me thinking …”

  Jack made him wait.

  “What else di
dn’t you tell me? What else did you lie about? What else you maybe … hiding?”

  With that Jack took his eyes off Josh.

  And looked right at the man’s shack. Made of mismatched planks, and an equally ill-fitting door, open a crack, maybe unable to be truly closed.

  “I’m not hiding anything …”

  “That’s not what I’ve heard. Fact — people I’ve been talking to—”

  “What people?”

  “Oh, lots of people. Callum Foley for instance. How do you think I know Callum, Josh?”

  Jack watched him carefully, eyes flicking from side to side as if the answer might be somewhere in the trees. Then — as if he’d found some kind of answer — he took a step towards Jack.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Jack put up a hand — calming, but not giving way.

  “Whoa. Steady there, Josh. Just trying to work out what happened in the woods that night. Callum’s been pretty helpful so far, you know.”

  “What’s that bastard been saying? What’s he told you?”

  Jack ignored the questions.

  “This — to be honest with you. Not looking good for you, Josh. What with your police record. Girl dies. And you’re out here, all alone. Coincidence? No. Kinda weird, hmm? That’s what people say about you. You know that?”

  “People don’t understand. About the woods. The trees.”

  “And people say — you get violent.”

  “This is Foley, isn’t it? It’s bullshit.”

  “Yeah. Not surprised Callum came down here, maybe … what, threaten you? I mean — I can’t blame the kid.”

  “That’s not what happened.”

  Jack nodded.

  “He come looking for evidence, hmm? Something you maybe picked up — brought back here? Something of hers?”

  “That’s not true! That’s lies, lies—”

  Jack thought, This is public land. That shack, probably even illegal — if anyone asked.

  So …

  No need of anything like a search warrant.

  “Good. Then—”

  Jack walked past Josh, the still-shaken guy shrinking back, as Jack passed.

  Right to the open door.

  Pushing it open, ignoring Josh’s cry to stop. Until Jack was inside what passed for Josh’s home.

  Pushing the buttons, pushing, pushing …

  13. Seeing is Believing