––––––––
Craven settled the bill with cash, and then led the way to the car. I kept a watchful eye on the fence—I knew what I'd seen.
“What's going on?” I said as soon as we were on the road. Craven had abandoned his usual cautious driving style, and had his foot to the floor.
“Well?” I was getting royally pissed off.
“We've been followed.”
“Who? Lassiter?”
He shook his head.
“Who then? Where did you disappear to?”
He glanced at me, but still said nothing.
“If you don't tell me exactly what's going on, I'm getting out of this car, and heading back home.”
“Louise.” He took one hand off the steering wheel, and placed it on mine. “Please trust me—”
“I'm done trusting.” I pulled my hand away. “I want to know what's going on. Who's following us?”
“Okay. Okay.”
“I'm listening.”
“His name is Milton.”
“Another vampire I suppose?” I didn't try to disguise the snark in my voice.
“No. Not a vampire. He's from the Maja pack. He murdered Krell who was the Alpha at the time.”
“You're talking about wolves again aren't you?”
“Wolf shifters.”
“You never give up with this shit do you?”
“You said you wanted to know.”
“I want the truth. Is there really anyone following us? How do I know you aren't making all this crap up just to keep me with you?”
“You saw what Lassiter did to your friend.”
The image of Alison's body flashed across my mind. “Okay, carry on, but this had better be good.”
“Krell's daughter witnessed her father's betrayal, but escaped before Milton could dispose of her too. If she ever returns and reveals what she knows, it will be the end for Milton. He has made it his mission to seek her out and destroy her.”
“I still don't see what any of this has got to do with me.”
“It's Milton, or more likely his Beta or subs, who are following us.”
“Subs?”
“Subordinates. His troops if you like.”
“But why? What do they want?”
“Krell's daughter's name is Louise.”
“That's what you called me. Are you trying to tell me that I'm Krell's daughter? That I'm a wolf-shifter?” I laughed. “You're out of your tiny mind.”
I turned away and stared out of the window. It was dark, and I couldn't see anything except the occasional light in the distance. I had to get away from Craven at the first opportunity. The mad man who killed Alison might still be at liberty, but I'd be safe if I could get to the police. I'd tell them everything I knew, and they'd make sure I was protected until they had Lassiter under lock and key. I was going to tell them about Craven too. He was obviously insane and needed medical treatment at the very least.
“Louise? Are you okay?”
“Don't call me that.”
“I know it must be a shock. Do you want to talk about it?”
“No! I'm tired. I'm going to take a nap.”
“Okay.”
*********
I woke up as we pulled into a large car park. It was just beginning to get light.
“Where are we?” My neck felt as though it had seized up.
“Darnston.” Craven turned off the ignition and unfastened his seat belt. “Grab your bag,”
There were only a dozen or so cars in the car park.
“What time is it?”
“Seven thirty. We'd better get breakfast—then we'll find a hotel.”
I was starving; breakfast sounded good.
There was no shortage of greasy-spoon cafes catering to the workers on their way to work. Craven chose one called 'The Sizzling Sausage'. The décor was nothing to write home about, and the man behind the counter was rude, but the breakfast, when it eventually arrived, was delicious.
“Feel better for that?” Craven asked as he polished off the last of his fried bread.
I shrugged. It was going to take a lot more than breakfast to put things right.
“Are you okay?” He tried to touch my hand, but I pulled it away.
“I'm fine. I need the loo.”
I left Craven to pay while I made my way through to the back of the cafe. This was my chance. If I waited until we reached the hotel, I might not be able to sneak away. Next to the loo, was a door which appeared to lead to an alleyway. I tried the handle, but it was locked. Shit!
There was a small, square-shaped window in the loo—high above the sink. I pulled myself up onto the sink, and hoped it wouldn't break under my weight. There was no lock, but the latch on the window looked as though it had been painted over. I tugged at it with first one, and then both hands.
“Come on you bloody thing!” I cursed under my breath—hoping upon hope that no one would come into the loo. “Come on!”
Eventually it gave way and I was able to push the window open. I had no problem getting through the gap, but the drop was higher than I'd expected. The landing jolted my whole body, but I was still in one piece.
*********
“Take a seat please,” the policeman at the desk said. “I'll get someone to speak to you.”
“Thank you.”
The police station was only a few streets from the cafe where we'd had breakfast. I'd asked for directions from a man behind the counter at a newsagents. Craven would be looking for me—I was sure of that, but I didn't think he'd risk following me into the police station. I’d told the policeman on reception that I'd been abducted, and about the murder of my flatmate.
“Jackie Dale?” A middle-aged man appeared at a door next to the main counter. “Come with me would you please. I'm D.S. Westwood.”
“Would you like a drink?” he asked once I was seated at a table in what appeared to be an interview room.
“I'm okay, thanks.”
“I've checked with our people in Camthorpe. They confirm your story about your flatmate. Alison?”
I nodded.
“Maybe we should start there. With her murder.”
I told Westwood about Lassiter, and how he'd been to the flat once before when he'd posed as a delivery man.
“Did you actually see him kill her?”
“No. Not exactly. But it was definitely him. He had blood—” I hesitated. I didn't want to get into the whole vampire nonsense, so didn't think it would be wise to mention the blood on his lips. “He had Alison's blood on him.”
“Was there anyone else in the flat at the time?”
“Only the man who abducted me. His name's Craven.”
“How can you be sure it wasn't this other man—this Craven—who committed the murder.”
“It wasn't.”
“But you can't be sure. Might they have been working together?”
“No. Definitely not.”
“Do you have any idea why Lassiter killed your friend?”
I shook my head. It was painful to think about Alison.
After a while, he moved on to ask me about my abduction.
“Why do you think he took you?”
“I don't know why he did it. I was just so scared.”
“Hardly surprising. Are you sure you wouldn't like a drink?”
The interview stretched to over two hours. I was mentally exhausted and struggling to keep up with his questions. I'm sure he sensed I was keeping information back. I was worried he might think I'd had a hand in Alison's death. I could have told him the whole truth, but what good would that have done? If I'd mentioned vampires or shifters, he'd have thought I was crazy for sure.
“Okay.” Westwood said. “I think that's everything I need.
“What now? Do you have men looking for Craven?”
“Don't worry yourself about that. It's in hand.” He stood up. “Would you wait here for just one more minute?”
What choice did I have? Were they really looking for Craven? Did they even believe he existed, or did they think I'd killed Alison, and made up the whole abduction story? No—they couldn't possibly think that—after all, it would have been easy for them to check my story. The motel staff could confirm I was with a man.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Westwood said. “I've arranged for a car to drive you back to Camthorpe. The local police there will want to speak to you.”
“Any news on Craven?”
“Not yet.” Westwood smiled. “Don't worry. We'll find him.”