Two bottles of wine and almost the whole of Lost Boys and Annie was struggling to stay awake. She dragged herself away from Will’s arms, which were wrapped tight around her. She needed to lock up.
He was fast asleep and looked so peaceful: there were no bad dreams for him. In the kitchen she grabbed her coat from the back of the chair. She couldn’t find her scarf so she looked under the table to see if it had fallen to the floor and remembered the straw. She let Tess out of the back door, who quickly squatted and then came back inside. It had been raining heavy so she bent to wipe her paws with an old towel.
‘How come you manage to walk through every puddle, Tess?’ Annie shivered, something strange was going on. Surely no one had been into the house, Tess would have barked. She locked the door, relieved that she had Will for company.
He shuffled into the kitchen. ‘Sorry, I’m terrible company.’ He looked even more gorgeous all bleary eyed and with ruffled hair.
‘I’m just locking up. Is there anything you need?’
‘Only you. You’re not going to leave me all alone on that big old sofa are you? We could put another film on. I promise to be a good boy.’
Annie preferred the thought of him being a bad boy but the thought of cuddling up to him was even better. She knew it was far too soon to even contemplate starting another relationship but she craved affection and would hopefully get some sleep safe in his arms.
He took hold of her hand and led her back to the sofa where he’d fashioned a bed out of the duvet and pillows. Annie watched as he took off his pants to reveal a pair of lime green and black Calvin Kleins®. She sighed, how was she supposed to lie next to him all night and keep her hands to herself? Not wanting him to feel underdressed she went upstairs and put on her wonder woman pyjamas. But she felt self-conscious. If the sight of her in these shorts didn’t send him running for the door she might just be onto a winner. It still niggled away at her why he was here but she wasn’t about to start interrogating him now. He held up the duvet and patted the space next to him and she climbed in, her heart racing. This was bizarre even for her but she wasn’t complaining. Will’s breathing slowed and got louder as he fell asleep, she closed her eyes and it wasn’t long before she joined him.
It took every ounce of strength to manhandle the woman from the car. He decided to dump her body down by the dock near to the old paper mills. They were due to be demolished any time and the businesses that used to run from there had all relocated. He also knew there were no CCTV cameras in the area. There wasn’t much point because all that was left was piles of rubble and crumbling buildings.
The blood made it hard to grip her properly and the stench was making him gag. He would have liked to have put her in the cellar with Jenna, an unexpected addition to his collection, but if he could barely carry her three hundred feet he wouldn’t be able to carry her a mile uphill through woodland. He removed her clothes, knowing full well, along with the rest of the world, the basics in forensic science. The real challenge was getting her positioned. He didn’t want to leave her lying on the floor as if she had just been abandoned; he wanted her sitting up on display. He placed her in a boarded up doorway but her head kept flopping to one side. Taking the scarf he had stolen earlier that evening he inhaled one last time, memorising the smell. Then he wrapped it around the girl’s neck several times until it covered the dreadful, gaping wound. He wished he could be there to see the face of the person who unwrapped it. He attached the material to a rusted nail that was sticking out of the frame; it didn’t look very sturdy but it worked. Hopefully rigor mortis would set in soon enough and then she wouldn’t need her head holding up. He wondered why he had wanted to cover the wound on her neck when her forehead was grazed and dinted: it felt like the right thing to do if there was right thing in these situations.
Getting into his car he took one last look around to make sure there was no one lurking. His hands were trembling so much he could barely grip the steering wheel and his stomach lurched every time he breathed in. If he was lucky his mother would still be at the church giving him enough time to sort out the car and shower. Putting the windows down to hide the blood on them and let some fresh air inside, he drove home at the correct speeds, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He reached his house without passing a police car and drove straight into the garage. He shut the door and didn’t turn on the light: none of the nosey neighbours could see in.
Stripping off his clothes until he was standing in his boxers he pulled a black plastic bin liner from the drawer and stuffed all his clothes into it. He would dump them behind the bins at the back of the druggie flats in the town centre. He began to clean the car, bleaching and scrubbing everything in sight. Tomorrow he would take it down to the Polish car wash and get it power washed on the outside as well, just in case any blood had got underneath: you could never be too sure.
He muttered to himself, ‘This is all your fault, why did you make me so angry that I couldn’t control the rage. I hope to God I haven’t ruined everything?’ He finished cleaning and turned the light off then went upstairs to have a quick shower. Just as he was towelling himself dry he heard the taxi with his mother in pull up outside. Perfect timing. He dashed downstairs to put her cup of milk into the microwave and waited for it to beep. He slowly mixed the cocoa powder into the scalding milk and stirred again careful not to crack the delicate porcelain cup. Then he took a deep breath to prepare himself for the interrogation that would begin in less than sixty seconds.
She walked in through the front door and locked it behind her. She came straight to the kitchen where she looked him up and down.
‘Why is your car in the garage and what are you doing lounging around in your dressing gown? Are you ill?’
He envisioned taking the dog chain and choking her with it until her vicious tongue protruded from her mouth, all swollen and black. How nice it would be to permanently silence her. He knew that he would one of these days; it was just a matter of when.
She walked into the living room and sat on the sofa, turning on the television. She found a repeat of CSI and settled down to watch it. He placed the cup of cocoa next to her on the small oak table then whispered ‘goodnight’ and turned to go upstairs. He knew she was staring at him, he could feel her eyes burning into his back and he knew she was wondering what was going on. He had a feeling she was beginning to feel a little bit scared of her wishy-washy son but there was no way she would admit it to anyone. She was a tough old bird, he’d give her that.
Will’s phone began vibrating in his trouser pocket against the wooden floorboards. Annie stirred but his eyes sprung wide open: it had to be work. He was used to calls like this: no one else would ring him at five-thirty in the morning. Extracting himself from Annie’s legs he got off the sofa and picked up his trousers, tiptoeing into the kitchen. He fumbled to get the phone out of his pocket, finally grabbing hold of it.
‘Hello, Will Ashworth speaking.’
Annie woke up and listened to the string of whispered swear words which came from the kitchen. Her stomach formed a tight knot; this wasn’t good. He walked back in.
‘Have they found that poor girl?’ she asked.
He shook his head. ‘No another girl has gone missing. She was last seen at work in the Abbey museum last night. I have to go.’ He bent down, kissing her on the lips. Then he slipped on his shoes and jacket and headed for the door.
‘Wait, you need a key to get out of the gates.’ She followed him into the kitchen and grabbed the spare key off the hook, throwing the pink, fluffy key ring at him.
‘Thanks, for a minute I thought you were going to beg me to stay.’
She laughed and shrugged, closing the door behind him. She went back to the duvet, which was still warm, and Tess pattered in and took over watching her from where Will had left off.