Remains of the Night (Murder Force Book 3), page 13
Silence.
He doubted anyone would be driving along here at three in the morning. There was another house nearby but the neighbours would be fast asleep. He could take all the time he wanted.
Leaving the van, he found the gate that opened onto the track that led up to the house. Instead of opening it, he vaulted over it and landed on the other side as lightly as a cat, his boots landing on dirt. Let the police take all the boot prints they wanted. He wasn’t on their system. They could have as many fingerprints and pieces of DNA as they wanted; they still wouldn’t find him.
He was still careful to leave as little at his scenes as possible, though. The more their forensics people came up with nothing, the more frustrated they would be. He smiled at the thought of that as he moved quickly along the track. The time for anticipation was over. Now, he must act.
Shrugging the rucksack from his shoulder, he unzipped it while he was still moving and took out the key and the opened bag of Doggy Treatz. The Alsatian that lived here loved treats.
As he slung the rucksack back over his shoulder, the toe of his boot connected with a hole in the track and he sprawled forwards, landing on his hip. He cursed under his breath and scrambled to his feet. The tiny dog biscuits had spilled out of the bag and were scattered over the trail.
He checked the bag. There were still enough treats in there to keep the dog happy. He didn’t have time to pick up the rest.
Pausing, he made sure no one had heard him fall. The windows of the house remained dark.
He quickly resumed his journey to the front door and when he got there, before he used the key, he whispered, “It’s me, boy.”
In his experience, dogs had long memories. The Alsatian would remember him as a friend, and wouldn’t alert the family sleeping upstairs.
“I’m coming in, boy. I’ve got treats for you,” he whispered as softly as he could.
There was no warning bark from the dog that he assumed was on the other side of the door. No lights in the windows. Everyone was sleeping like the dead.
He grinned. This was going to be easy.
Laura Jones felt something touch her foot. With her eyes still closed, she snuggled deeper into the pillow, trying to recapture the dream she’d been having only seconds ago. She’d been on a tropical beach, drinking a daiquiri at an outdoor café with Chris while Emily paddled in the sea.
“Mummy.” Her daughter’s voice brought her fully awake, the dream forgotten.
“What’s wrong, Emily?” Her whispered voice sounded loud in the darkness. The room was pitch black. Too dark to see anything. Chris had insisted on blackout curtains when he started night shifts at the hospital and had to sleep during the day. Laura didn’t mind, but she found that if she woke up in the night—like she was doing now—the pitch black made her disoriented.
“I heard a noise,” Emily said.
“A noise? Are you sure it wasn’t a dream?” She reached over to the bedside table and felt for the switch that turned on the lamp. As light flooded the room, she squinted against it.
Emily held her hand up in front of her face, shielding her eyes from the light. She was standing at the foot of the bed with Mr Tiggles, a toy rabbit, dangling from her hand. She’d had the rabbit for years. Chris had named it Mr Tickles, but Emily had pronounced it Tiggles and the name had stuck.
Laura thought the toy looked a lot like Bugs Bunny and wondered how the manufacturers had managed to skirt copyright law. Perhaps they hadn’t; she hadn’t seen the toy on the shelves for some time now. And Laura’s sister had tried to get one for her own daughter, but hadn’t been able to find one anywhere.
Either way, Emily—who, at four years old knew nothing about copyright law—loved the toy and slept with it every night. Laura guessed she’d picked Mr Tiggles up from her bed while still half asleep, because she was holding the toy by its ankle.
“It wasn’t a dream. It was a car.”
Laura checked the clock on the bedside table. It was ten past three. She had to get up in four hours to get breakfast ready and prepare Emily for nursery. She didn’t have time to argue about noises, real or imagined. “Do you want to get into bed with me?” She pulled back the sheets on Chris’s side of the bed.
Emily nodded solemnly and climbed in.
“Close your eyes,” she said, tucking her daughter in beneath the sheets.
She waited until Emily was settled, then turned the lamp off. The room was plunged into complete darkness. She closed her own eyes and sank back onto the pillow.
Before sleep managed to take her into its grip, she heard something outside. It sounded like a dull thud, as if someone had thrown a sack of potatoes on the ground.
She sat up in bed and listened. Everything seemed quiet now. Probably just a fox jumping over the wall. Although it had sounded a lot heavier than an animal. She settled back down in the bed and lay there for five minutes with her eyes open, staring into the impenetrable darkness. She was thinking about the news reports she’d seen today, and the stories in the papers. Everyone was talking about a serial killer in the area known as the Demon.
No, she reminded herself. Not this area. York was miles away.
Her mind was probably just playing tricks on her. Taking those stories she’d seen today and compressing them into a ball of fear.
Another noise reached her ears. Not outside this time. In the house. Downstairs. Something scrabbling over the wooden floor of the hallway.
The bloody dog.
She let out a long, slow breath.
A low whine from downstairs. Perhaps there was a fox out there, after all.
Moving slowly so as not to wake Emily, she slipped out of bed and went to the window, parting the blackout curtains. The window was open. It was a hot night and closing it would have made the heat build up in the bedroom.
The fact that the window was open was also why she could hear every sound out there. She felt a bit better as that thought came to her. These sounds were probably the normal night-time sounds around here. She just didn’t hear them because the window was usually closed.
Her sense of comfort disappeared when she saw the van parked in the road.
The hedge obscured most of the vehicle but she could see moonlight reflecting off the white roof. What was it doing there in the early hours of the morning? Was there someone inside?
Checking that her daughter was still fast asleep, she opened the bedroom door and stepped out onto the landing. At least she could see out here; moonlight flooded in through the window over the stairs.
Laura stepped onto the top step and flinched as it creaked beneath her weight. She stepped back up onto the landing, telling herself that she needed to get her phone from the bedside table in case she needed to call the police.
She tried to put all thoughts of the Demon out of her mind. She was sure the van parked in the road wasn’t connected with what she’d seen on the news in any way. But there might be someone lurking about outside, and if there was, she was going to call the police.
She returned to the bedroom and found her phone. When she left the room, she closed the door. She felt fiercely protective of Emily. If anyone thought they could come in here and…
She pushed the thought away and went to the stairs, descending quickly to the hallway below.
Alfie was staring at the front door, hairs bristling along his back. A low growl rumbled in his throat.
That was enough for Laura. She dialled 999 on the phone and went to the kitchen, pulling the largest knife she had out of a block on the worktop. She left the lights off so she could see through the windows. She couldn’t see anyone out there.
“Which emergency service do you require?” the operators voice said in her ear.
“Police.” She was whispering, afraid that someone might hear her.
There was a click and then another female voice said, “Police, what’s your emergency?”
“I think there’s someone outside my house.”
“Someone outside your house? Are they acting suspiciously?”
“I don’t know. I can’t see them.”
“You can’t see them? How do you know there’s someone there?”
“There’s a van parked on the road. I live in the countryside. My dog is growling.”
“All right. What’s your name?”
“Laura Jones.”
“Can you give me your address, Laura? I’ll get someone out there to have a look around.”
“It’s Moorside House, near Tollby.”
“Moorside House. Got it.” Laura could hear the woman typing on a keyboard. “I’m dispatching someone to you now, all right?”
“Yes. Thank you.” She hated the fact that she felt weak and helpless.
“Is there anyone else in the house with you?”
“My daughter. Emily.”
“How old is she?”
“Four.”
“And where is Emily now?”
“She’s upstairs, in my bed. Asleep.”
“And you say your dog is there?”
“Yes.”
“What type of dog is it?”
Laura wondered if the woman was trying to calm her down by talking about anything but the man who might be lurking outside.
“He’s an Alsatian.”
“Well, I’m sure he’s a good guard dog. What’s his name?”
“Alfie.”
“Well, don’t worry, Laura. You’ve got Alfie with you and there are officers on the way.”
Laura knew they’d be coming from York and would take a long time to get here. She prayed she wouldn’t have to use the knife.
“My name’s Kate, by the way,” the woman on the other end of the line said. “How are you feeling?”
“Scared,” she said truthfully. She went into the living room and peered out into the night. The view from the window showed nothing more than the track that led to the road and the grass that stretched to the Lloyd property next door.
She wondered if Doug and Sarah had heard anything. Or if they’d seen the van parked in the road. She went back to the kitchen and looked out of the window that gave her a view of the Lloyds’ house. There weren’t any lights on. They must all be asleep.
“I know you’re scared,” Kate said, “but there’ll be someone there soon, all right?”
“All right,” Laura said. She wasn’t really listening to the dispatcher anymore because her attention had been caught by something more urgent. The Lloyds’ front door was open. It was hard to make out at this distance but she was sure it was open.
“I think he’s at my neighbour’s house,” she told Kate.
“Who, Laura? Can you see someone?”
“No, but their front door is open.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes, I can see it through my window.”
“Do you know your neighbours’ names?”
“Doug and Sarah Lloyd.”
“All right. When the unit arrives—“
“I can’t wait for the unit to arrive. I think they’re in trouble.”
“Laura, you have to stay in your house, okay? Don’t go over there. You’re safe in your house.”
Was she, though? Doug and Sarah weren’t safe in theirs. Someone was in there with them.
“I have to do something,” she said. The feeling of helplessness washed over her again. Anything could be happening to her neighbours and she was just standing here, doing nothing.
“Laura, listen to me. The officers will be there soon and they’ll handle this. I want you to keep an eye on your neighbours’ house through the window and tell me anything you see. Are any of the lights on?”
“No.”
“Can you see any movement?”
“No.” She felt panic rise inside her like a growing flame. “I’ve got to warn them.”
“Laura, listen to me—“
“I can’t do nothing.” Still brandishing the knife, she grabbed her car keys from the kitchen table and opened the front door. Alfie rushed out, barking and running across the grass towards the Lloyds’ house.
Laura went quickly to her car—a red Ford Ka that was parked at the side of the house—and started the engine. She reversed, swinging the vehicle around so it faced her neighbours’ house, and put the headlights on high beam.
The bright lights illuminated the house. Laura began banging on the car’s horn. Doug and Sarah would have to hear that. And if there was anyone in there who shouldn’t be, he’d flee.
“Laura, what are you doing?” Kate’s voice came from the phone Laura had tossed onto the passenger seat.
“I’m warning them,” Laura said. “And I’m showing him I know he’s there.”
When the bright light flooded into the house, he was in the master bedroom. For a split second, he thought the police were here, that they’d somehow set a trap for him. But then he realised the lights weren’t police car lights; they weren’t flashing, and they weren’t blue.
The repeated honking of a horn outside brought him to the window. Pulling the ski mask down over his face, he inched the curtains open and peeked out.
A car was positioned in front of the house next door, its lights pointed at the house. Someone inside it was hitting the horn over and over.
He gripped the hammer in his hand tightly. He ought to go over there and…
No, he couldn’t do that. What if the person in the car had called the police? They’d be on their way here right now.
He had to get out of here.
Turning away from the window, he vaulted down the stairs. He should have realised something would go wrong tonight when he opened the front door and there was no dog. At the time, the absence of the family’s pet had seemed like one less thing to worry about but now he knew it had been an omen. A portent of ill luck.
And now he had to leave this house with his plans only half complete. It was a mess, but he had no choice.
Sprinting through the open front door, he gave the owner of the car a cold stare. They couldn’t see it because of the mask, but it made him feel better anyway. He ran across the illuminated lawn to the track that led to the gate.
Once he got to the van, he could—
Something bit into his calf, sharp teeth tearing through his trousers, skin, and muscle. He cried out and fell, rolling on the grass as something snapped at him.
He heard the snarls, saw the snapping muzzle, and lifted his arms to shield his face. He couldn’t believe he was being attacked by a dog.
“No,” he moaned. “Not a dog. Not a dog.” They were the only creatures he’d ever trusted. The only friends he’d ever had. And now one of them was attacking him.
He rolled away from the snapping animal and sprang to his feet. The dog—a big Alsatian—bared its teeth at him and snarled, ears drawn back along the top of its wide head.
For a moment, he wondered if this was the dog that should have been in the Lloyds’ house but shook his head. This wasn’t Dino. It looked similar but it wasn’t the dog he knew.
He turned and ran.
The dog chased him. He made it to the gate but had to slow down before climbing over it.
The dog’s teeth sank into his leg. Pain flashed through him like a thousand swords cutting through his nerves.
He turned and kicked the dog with his free leg. His boot connected with its torso and the animal shrank back, whimpering.
When he looked down at it, at the fear in its eyes, he felt his heart break.
He scrambled over the gate and limped to the van. Climbing in behind the wheel as quickly as he could, he started the engine, slammed the gear stick into first, and pressed his foot gingerly on the accelerator.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, he drove away from the houses and into the night.
The pain he felt wasn’t only physical. He felt hot tears spring from his eyes, only to be soaked up by the ski mask.
They’d done this to him. They’d made him kick a dog.
Whoever was in that car was going to pay.
Laura watched the man run across the Lloyd’s lawn and she saw Alfie attack him. She was grateful to the dog for seeing the man off but she felt more concerned for his safety. The man managed to get over the fence and Alfie slunk back to her.
She got out of the car and put her arms around his muscular neck. “You’re a good boy, Alfie. Good boy.”
His tail thumped against the ground.
“Come on, let’s get inside and wait for the police.”
The dog followed her to the front door. Laura cast a quick glance at Doug and Sarah’s house. She knew she should go over there and see how her neighbours were, but she didn’t dare leave Emily.
“Laura, are you there?”
The voice came from the car and Laura realised she’d left the phone on the seat. She opened the car door and retrieved it.
“I’m here, Kate. He’s run off. I mean driven off. In the van.”
“Did you see the vehicle’s number plate?”
“No.” She went back into the house and gave Alfie a handful of treats. He gobbled them up and curled up by the back door.
Laura went upstairs. In the bedroom, she stood by the window, where she could watch Emily and watch for the police. Her daughter, who had been woken up by the sound of the van on the road earlier, had slept soundly through the honking car horn and bright lights outside.
Ten minutes later, she saw flashing lights coming up the road. The police car slowed as it approached the gate and stopped there.
Laura went downstairs. Alfie was standing at the door again, growling.
“It’s okay. It’s the police,” she told him, as if he could understand her.
Telling him to stay inside, she opened the front door and waited on the porch while the police opened the gate and drove up to the house.
Two uniformed officers—a man and a woman—got out of the car.
“Did you call the police?” the woman asked.
Laura nodded and pointed at the Lloyds’ property. “He was at my neighbours’ house.”
“We’ll be back in a moment.” They turned their torches on and headed over to Doug and Sarah’s house.
Laura waited. She saw the lights go on inside the house.
