“Time to set things right, James.” He lunges forward and I feel his teeth sink deep into my neck as jets of blood warm my chest. I scream, a thick gargled disappointment as I try to push him away from me to break free. I try to scream again and-
6.
-wake to the sound of a knock on my door.
“Jim?” I try desperately to climb out of bed, to wake myself from the dream still filling my mind, the world a murky mystery to me.
“JIM?”
“One sec,” I yell at the door and finally manage to wrench myself out from beneath the damp sheet. I check my watch as I take the five or so steps to the door and see it’s only 10.30. When I open the door, the look on Steph’s face is all I need to tell me the grim news she wants to share.
“There’s been another one.” I groan as she confirms my hunch, walk back to the bed and begin to put on my shoes.
“Did you get any sleep, kiddo?” I ask but Steph shakes her head.
“It’s OK. I’ll sleep later.” I watched her look in the mirror as she spoke and saw the fatigue in her eyes. I finished lacing my shoes, grabbed a jacket and followed her out. A minute later she was behind the wheel of her car driving us to the latest crime scene.
“Another teacher, Annie Wilcox,” Steph began once we were moving. “I was still at the station when the call came in. Her boyfriend made the find after she failed to show for class this morning. Pete and Lewis are already on their way to the house. Should be there by now, she only lives on Clifford Lane.” The car suddenly lurched to one side, tyres squealing. A dog had wandered into the middle of the road and thankfully, Steph still had quick enough reflexes to swerve around the little guy.
“Dam dog,” she screamed as she fought the car back under control. I reached out and touched her arm. It felt cold.
“Rademeyer is convinced it’s a copycat. Said Lightman is locked up as tight as a snare drum.”
“He said that?”
“Yup. He had another ‘chat’ with me just before the call came in. Told me not to waste all our time chasing a ghost. He said ‘follow your hot leads’, or something like that.”
“I know what he’s saying, but what if he did find a way to get out of jail?”
“And then what? Breaks back into jail when he’s done?” I hadn’t pondered that part of it but now that I heard the words, wondered.
“What a brilliant alibi,” I finally whispered.
“Alibi?”
“Imagine if that was his plan all along. Imagine. He doesn’t mind prison, breaks out every so often to feed his hunger, then boom. Right back home each morning. I mean think about it.”
“It would be a hell of a plan. If he found a way out of jail.”
“Something tells me the key to everything is somewhere in that box we got from the jail.”
“I hope you’re right, Jim. Otherwise we’re gonna end up chasing nothing but our tails. Anyway, Jack and Lester should already be at the latest. They were out in the car. Pete and Lewis left the station when I did.”
“Wait, Lester? As in Lester Redding?” I asked with some bemusement.
“The one and only. Why? You know him?”
“Wow, I can’t believe he’s still around. He was like ancient when I was a cop.” Steph giggled a little.
“Don’t let him hear you talk about his age. He gets pretty touchy about that.” She was about to say something else, but paused as she turned the car into Clifford Lane, two patrol cars visible at the far end. “There they are.”
Like most country towns, houses that are more than a couple of hundred metres from the main street were spaced well apart. Privacy was a luxury many could afford and in Cider Hill, space was plenty. The road, still dirt, was about 700 yards long, maybe a couple of dozen houses in total. They were scattered, some with quite short driveways, some with quite long ones. Several had smoke slowly drifting out from chimneys, fireplaces alight, keeping whoever occupied those homes warm and toasty.
7.
The two officers that were leaning against the fence in front of 24 Clifford Lane looked as pale as ghosts. Jack Dunning was wiping his mouth, looking embarrassingly at the ground. I could tell he had recently bid his breakfast and/ or lunch farewell. Old Lester was leaning against the fence, one hand rubbing the back of the other, his face stern and pale. He watched us approach and I saw his face lighten a little as recognition crept in. He began to walk towards my door as soon as we stopped.
“Jim, oh my God. How have you been?” he said, grasping my hand tightly as he pumped it up and down vigorously.
“Lester, good to see you,” I replied with a smile.
“I wish the circumstances were better,” he answered back, waving a hand at the cottage behind us.
“How bad is it?” Steph asked. Lester frowned a little.
“It’s not good. Prepare yourselves. She’s in the bathroom. Far end of the hallway.” He let go of my hand and opened the small gate that led into the front yard. It was a pretty white cottage, the two windows that sat either side of the front door, had their floral curtains drawn shut. The front veranda had a small round wooden table and two chairs sitting off to one side. There was a teapot vase on
