Thursday 01:30
‘Anna hung up,’ says Priya.
‘What? Where is she? What did she say?’ I ask, driving as fast as I dare on dark country lanes in the middle of the night.
We’ve taken Zoe’s car. I feel more comfortable being behind the wheel, and I still don’t trust Priya. She grabbed my phone as soon as it started ringing, as though she didn’t want me to answer it. Although that could have something to do with my speed – she’s checked her seat belt several times.
‘Anna mentioned the woods,’ she says, holding onto the side of the car as I take another bend more quickly than I should.
‘Great, that’s a big help in a town surrounded by trees,’ I snap.
‘I’m just telling you what she said.’
‘Was it definitely her?’
‘Yes.’
‘Call the tech team, get them to triangulate the signal from her phone right now. Then call Anna back.’
Priya does as I ask, but I can only hear one side of the conversation she is having with someone at HQ. Her tone changes towards the end of the call.
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ I ask when she hangs up, but she doesn’t answer.
I take my eyes off the road for just a second to look at her, and when I turn back, there is a stag standing directly in front of us. The deer’s eyes shine in the headlights, its enormous horns look lethal, and it doesn’t move. I hit the brake and only just manage to swerve in time to avoid hitting it. Seconds later we smash into an old oak tree instead.
For a moment, I think I am dead.
‘Jesus Christ,’ says Priya, reaching for the back of her neck as though in pain.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say, mentally checking myself for injuries, but finding none.
My chest hurts, and I’m still gripping the steering wheel so tight that my knuckles look as though they might burst through my skin. I notice the deer has disappeared.
‘It’s OK, I’m still in one piece, are you?’ Priya asks.
‘I think so.’
She leans down into the footwell. At first, I think she might be about to vomit, but she picks up her phone, and dials Anna’s number. I decide that I was wrong not to trust her; she is trying to help me. Even now, when I almost killed us both.
‘Anna’s mobile is going straight to voicemail again,’ she says. ‘Maybe her battery died, or she lost signal—’
‘Or someone turned it off,’ I say, finishing her sentence.
‘The good news is, according to Google Maps, Catherine Kelly’s old house is five minutes away on foot.’
She unfastens her seat belt and feels the back of her neck again.
‘Are you sure you’re OK to walk?’ I ask.
‘Guess we’ll find out.’
We abandon the car, which seems wise given the dented bonnet and flashing warning lights on the dashboard. I don’t even take the keys or bother closing the door, it feels like there is no time to waste. Priya is surprisingly fast. She navigates a path for us between the black branches of ancient trees, running ahead, almost as though she has been here before and knows the way. My chest hurts every time I breathe in. I slammed into the steering wheel when we crashed, and I suspect I may have cracked a rib. The volume of my wheezing laboured breaths seems to increase with every step.
Priya stops just ahead of me.
‘Did you hear that?’ she whispers.
‘What?’
‘Sounded like someone running in the opposite direction.’
She stands a little straighter, her body poised and perfectly still, like the startled deer we saw a few minutes ago. But her head reminds me more of an owl, turning slowly from side to side as her brown big eyes blink into the gloom. I don’t hear anything, except the normal sounds of the woods at night, but I remember Priya is a city girl.
‘It’s OK,’ I say, trying to reassure her. ‘It was probably just another animal. We should carry on.’
She reaches inside her jacket, pulls out a gun, and flicks the safety catch.
‘Whoa! Why do you have that?’ I ask, taking a step back without meaning to.
‘Self-protection,’ she replies, looking over my shoulder.
When I turn – trying to keep one eye on the gun in her hand – I see the shape of an old wooden house camouflaged in the darkness. It’s surrounded by pine trees, as though they are guarding the building from unwelcome visitors. There are lights on inside, and the shape of the door and windows almost resembles a face, with glowing yellow eyes.
As we get closer, I see Richard’s BBC crew car. Then I see Rachel’s Audi TT parked right outside.
‘Isn’t that Rachel Hopkins’ missing car?’ Priya whispers.
‘I think it might be,’ I reply, knowing that it is.
We reach the house and Priya stares at the ancient-looking front door. I wonder if her fear has finally caught up with her, but it hasn’t. I watch as she puts her gun down, before reaching up to her ponytail, to pull out one of the old-fashioned hairgrips she always wears. She slides it inside the lock.
‘Are you kidding me?’ I say.
‘Why don’t you try around the back?’ she replies without looking up.
She’s got more chance of finding a one-ended stick in the woods than opening that door. We don’t have any time to lose, so I do as she suggests, and head for the rear of the house hoping I might have better luck. Most of the curtains are drawn, but there are definitely lights on inside. I try every door that I come across, but they are all locked. Eventually I find myself back where I started at the front of the house, but Priya is gone.
I stare into the darkness that surrounds me, waiting, watching, and listening for some sign of her, but she isn’t here. Then I hear the creak of the front door slowly opening. I spin around, but can’t see who it is at first. The relief I feel when I see that it is Priya produces a nervous smile from me, and a strange one from her.
‘Seriously? You managed to get in using an old trick with a hairpin?’
‘Old door, old tricks,’ she says, heaving the heavy door open, just wide enough for me to squeeze inside.
I’m surprised to see she is already wearing her blue plastic gloves, but then she never was one to waste time.