The first Fern knew of the attack on Janice was when she was contacted by the police on Monday afternoon.
She had been trying to get hold of Janice, calling when she didn’t receive replies to the message she had sent late last night or the two angry ones she had sent earlier that morning. When she learnt what had happened, and that her old friend was in the hospital and might not survive her injuries, Fern’s first thought was, Have I said anything incriminating in my messages to Janice?
If she had, the officer didn’t make comment, though she did want to know when Fern had last seen Janice. Then she confirmed that Fern had known both Gary Lamb and Howard Peck, and said another officer would be in touch with some follow-up questions.
Now Fern was really panicking. Not only was some psycho bumping off her friends, the police thought she might be involved.
She toyed with confessing all, admitting what had happened all those years ago and hoping that the police would take a sympathetic view, and offer her protection.
It was so risky, though. What if they decided to press charges against her? With Gary, Howard, Rachel and Kelly all dead, and Janice on her way to joining them, Fern would have to stand trial alone.
She couldn’t bear the thought of that.
What had happened had been an accident, and yes, okay, her actions may have led to that accident, but it was not her fault.
It didn’t help that Olivia Blake’s boyfriend was still snooping around, either. He had sent Fern a couple of messages over the past few days, both of which she had ignored, but she knew she couldn’t avoid him forever. Noah Keen had struck her as the persistent type and she was surprised he hadn’t yet turned up unannounced and demanding answers. He had said in the messages that they needed to talk again, which had her fearful. Had he found something out or was he still digging?
There was simply one solution.
She needed to get away.
When Janice had suggested the idea of fleeing, Fern had scorned her, but now, she was the last one left. Well, apart from Olivia, and Fern wasn’t too sure she believed Olivia’s bullshit story that she too was being targeted. No, Fern was now the sole survivor. She was the only one now who really knew what had happened that night, and she was the only one left to target.
She had to disappear somewhere where the killer wouldn’t find her, away from her tormentor, away from the police, away from overly inquisitive Noah Keen and bloody Olivia Blake, who had kick-started all of this, by stubbornly befriending Margaret Grimes, just to piss Fern off. It was Olivia’s fault all of this was happening. Not Fern’s.
She would have to start over, but was she really leaving that much behind? A mum and a sister, neither of whom she was close to, and who probably wouldn’t even miss her, a boss who had broken her heart and been avoiding her, his regret at sleeping with Fern written all over his face. She didn’t really have many friends. Okay, there was Meg, and maybe Fern could confide in her, perhaps even let Meg have her location once she knew she was safe.
She spent the rest of Monday afternoon using her work PC to Google potential destinations. The office was already winding down for Christmas and the rest of her team were busy stuffing their faces with festive buffet snacks and getting excited about swapping their stupid Secret Santa gifts.
Fern switched off from them, not interested in their inane banter, as she tried to figure out where she could go. Abroad was too tricky and would be far too easy to trace, but she could get a room in a guesthouse somewhere until she figured out a longer-term plan.
Coming up with a shortlist of potential destinations, she scribbled them down, careful to wipe the search history from her PC before logging off.
Tomorrow she would call in sick, use the time to close her bank account and draw the balance out in cash. It would be easier that way. No one would be able to trace her. She would need to ditch her phone too, trade it in for a cheaper pay-as-you-go model.
There was so much to think about, and she knew she would have to leave a lot of stuff behind.
It was the only way she could be sure of being safe, though.
She would visit the bank and get a new mobile phone tomorrow, pack what she needed, then hopefully she could be out of Norwich no later than Tuesday afternoon.
Noah had spoken with Martin Plum at the hospital, while the man was waiting on news of his wife. His methods had been a little unethical, pretending to be a worried fiancé, whose wife-to-be had been involved in a car accident, but needs must.
Striking up conversation with the man who seemed relieved to have someone else who could relate to what he was going through had been easy, and Noah had left him half an hour later with plenty of additional information about Janice and the lead-up to her attack.
Perhaps he should have felt guilt about taking advantage of Martin Plum at such a vulnerable point, but there was no time for that. If he was going to keep Olivia safe, he needed to find out who was killing her old classmates.
Janice had gone to the community centre to meet up with friends. Martin had told Noah that his wife was obsessed with Zumba and a group of them regularly worked out together. This wasn’t an organised event, though. Janice’s friend, Gretchen Self, had arranged the meet-up, and the women had been planning to have a bit of a pre-Christmas party with food and plenty of alcohol.
The police had spoken to Janice’s friends, but none of them had known anything about the get-together. According to what Martin had been told, no one had been able to trace Gretchen either.
Back home, Noah opened up the document where he had listed the dead friends. Kelly Dearborn, Rachel Colton, Gary Lamb and Howard Peck. He added the seriously injured Janice Plum to the list, writing Gretchen Self in brackets next to Janice’s name.
It bothered him that the police hadn’t yet been able to track down Howard’s girlfriend, Daisy Angel, or Janice’s friend, Gretchen. Had the women been involved in what had happened to Howard and Janice, or were they unwitting pawns? In which case, should the police be looking for more bodies?
The Grimes family was still his main focal point.
Gerald and Marie Grimes were retired and had moved from Essex to live in the countryside of the Chiltern Hills. Gerald now spent much of his time in a wheelchair, having fallen off a ladder when he was fixing a broken roof tile, which ruled him out as a viable suspect. Marie was short and slight in build, and Noah couldn’t see her being capable of overpowering two grown men. That left Margaret’s sister and brother. Alice had gone on to train as a therapist, moving to the States when she was in her early twenties. There was little trace of her after that.
Malcolm, meanwhile, had stayed in Essex, working his way through a number of positions, mostly involving physical labour. He was a bit of a loner, no longer in contact with his family and had few friends, and he appeared to have completely dropped off the radar about six months ago after leaving his job working in a warehouse.
Malcolm Grimes seemed almost too convenient a suspect. He had the physical strength and he had been at Black Dog Farm when Margaret died, which suggested he had the motivation too, but was he really behind this?
Noah glanced at his watch, mindful of the time, wanted to make sure he was at Olivia’s work before she left off. It was Monday 14 December, three days to the anniversary of Margaret Grimes’ death. If the killer was working to an endgame, Thursday would be the crucial day.
Olivia was insisting on staying home tonight and he hadn’t pushed her on that, knew she was still a little mad at him. He had given her the weekend to stew, had hoped she might have thawed by now. She was coming around, but slowly.
He knew it was because of the secrets; Dan and now the locked office door, plus of course it hadn’t helped that she had overheard him on the phone. He couldn’t have her find out the truth yet, not before Thursday, so he would need to find a way to win her over, persuade her to stay with him from tomorrow night so he could keep a close eye on her.
Olivia was dreading returning home Monday evening, but knew she couldn’t put off having a conversation with Molly any longer.
She had gone over what she planned to say a dozen or more times in her head, figured she would have to be clear that Molly had got the wrong impression and there was nothing between them but friendship. She had agonised, worrying if she had ever encouraged Molly or done anything that could be misconstrued as leading her on, but there was nothing she could think of.
The whole scenario was just so odd. Olivia was in a relationship and, given that the pair of them had been living together for the past year, Molly had never done anything to suggest she had feelings towards her before. They had both been drinking on Saturday night. Had it really just been a spur-of-the-moment thing?
Chances were, Molly was embarrassed as hell about it as well. That’s why it was important that they cleared the air and started over.
Still she nearly chickened out, tempted to ask Noah to stay after he followed her home. He got out of his car to see her to the front door, drawing her in for a long lingering kiss that completely scrambled her brain.
‘Come over tomorrow night after work. I’ve missed you.’
Olivia hesitated, aware that she was out of excuses to say no. At least not without voicing her concerns about his secrets again, and she wasn’t ready for that conversation, not on top of the one she was already dreading having with Molly. ‘Maybe.’ She shrugged, non-committedly.
‘No maybe. I’ll cook for you.’ He grazed his fingers down her cheek then back into her hair.
‘You’re going to cook?’
‘Hey, I’m not that bad in the kitchen.’
‘Really? What was the last thing you cooked?’
‘I can throw a meal together,’ he protested, ignoring the question. ‘And now I am going to prove it to you, tomorrow night. Okay?’ He tugged gently on her hair.
‘Okay, though let me see how tonight goes first.’
‘I would love to be a fly on the wall for this conversation.’
When his grin widened, Olivia pushed him away. ‘Yes, I bet you would. Now go. I need to get this over and done with.’
‘Call me if you need support. I can come over.’
‘I think the last thing Molly is going to want is you in the house.’
‘Well, at least now I know why she hates me. I’m competition.’
‘Go.’ Olivia gave him another shove, though couldn’t help smiling herself.
‘Message me later. I’m going to want to know details.’ Noah stole another quick kiss, before backing away.
Olivia watched him get in his car, turn on the engine before unlocking the door and stepping into the lion’s den.
Molly wasn’t downstairs and she chided herself for feeling relief, as all she was doing was delaying the inevitable. After kicking off her shoes and hanging up her coat she went through to the kitchen and put on the kettle, was greeted by a purring Luna who had come wandering through, looking for dinner.
Olivia picked her up and gave her a cuddle, burying her nose in the cat’s soft fur. As she turned around, she jumped, hadn’t heard Molly come downstairs over the noise of the boiling kettle.
She stood in the doorway, dressed in her gym gear, giving Olivia a tentative smile. ‘Was that Noah I heard outside?’
‘Yeah, he insisted on following me home.’ At Molly’s raised brow, she elaborated. ‘There was another fire last night.’
‘Someone else was killed? Oh my God, Livvy.’ Molly’s eyes were wide.
‘She’s not dead. She’s in the hospital, but I think it’s pretty bad.’
Although not comfortable to talk about, the subject was easier ground to cover, given what was to come, and Olivia was relieved that for a few minutes the tensions eased as she updated Molly on what little she knew about Janice.
‘Noah could have come in, you know. I’m not an ogre,’ Molly eventually commented. ‘I told you I would give him a chance.’
‘I know that and I appreciate it, thank you.’
‘So… I take it things are okay between you two now?’
‘We’re getting there,’ Olivia lied. She was regretting blabbing to Molly on Saturday night, wishing she had kept her worries and suspicions about Noah to herself.
This was the perfect opportunity to bring up Saturday night and clear the air. She thought back over her well-rehearsed speech, as she put a pouch of food in Luna’s dish, trying to pluck up courage to actually say the words.
‘Is that why you’ve been quiet the last couple of days?’ Molly asked before she had a chance to speak. ‘I was beginning to worry that I had done something to upset you.’
What? Olivia took a deep breath. ‘Well… I’ll be honest, I have been feeling a bit weird about what happened on Saturday night.’
‘About Saturday night? Why, what about it?’
‘About what you… about that hug.’ Olivia’s cheeks flamed at Molly’s confused expression.
‘Livvy, what are you on about?’
‘The hug.’
‘Yes, you said. But why would you feel weird because I gave you a hug? That’s what friends do.’
Was Molly messing with her? Did she seriously not remember? ‘You grabbed my arse.’
‘No I didn’t.’
‘Yes, you did.’
‘Livvy, I’m pretty certain I would remember if I grabbed your arse. Jesus, I know you had a couple of beers, but I didn’t realise you were that pissed.’
‘I wasn’t pissed.’ Anger was taking the edge off Olivia’s embarrassment and she couldn’t quite believe that Molly was denying what had happened. ‘And that was not a platonic hug!’
‘So what you’re saying is that I hit on you?’ Molly was smirking now, not seeming in the least bit uncomfortable. ‘You’re pretty, but I hate to disappoint you, you’re also not my type. I like men.’ She shook her head, laughing to herself. ‘Maybe the hug you are remembering was one in your dreams.’
‘I was not dreaming.’
‘Well, I honestly don’t know what else to say.’ The smile dropped from Molly’s face, replaced with a look of pity. ‘Look, I don’t quite know if I’m mad at you, amused, or if I just feel sorry for you.’ Her voice took on a sympathetic tone. ‘You’ve been through a lot the last couple of weeks, I get that, I really do. Have you been sleeping well? You’ve looked like a zombie the last few days.’
Olivia stared at her friend, lost for words. It was bad enough that Molly was denying what had happened, but what was worse, she was now actually starting to question if she had overreacted. If maybe it had just been an innocent hug after all.
‘Have you thought about talking to someone?’ Molly suggested gently. ‘Perhaps a counsellor? It might help to talk things through. You’ve been under a lot of strain and sometimes the mind does play tricks. You thought there was someone in the house last week, remember? And you’re convinced Noah is keeping secrets from you.’
‘I don’t need to talk to a counsellor.’
‘Okay. Well, I’m here if you want to talk to me about anything, okay?’ When Olivia simply stared at her, she added. ‘And how about we put this conversation behind us, forget we ever had it.’
How was she supposed to react to that? Should she continue to dig her heels in or try and accept that maybe she was wrong? ‘Okay,’ Olivia agreed grudgingly. She finished making her tea and picked up her cup. ‘I’m going upstairs for a shower.’
‘Fine, well I’m heading out to the gym. There’s chilli in the saucepan if you want some. I made plenty.’
Molly already had her back turned, heading to the front door, as Olivia murmured, ‘thank you.’ She remained in the kitchen for several minutes after the door shut, sipping at her tea and replaying Saturday night and then the conversation she had just had with Molly. That had not gone at all how she was expecting.
Was she really starting to go crazy? She had been convinced someone was in the house that night before she went to Noah’s, but there had been no one on the security camera. And it was true, she was becoming paranoid about Noah and his secrets. Had she really imagined the incident that had happened with Molly?
Suddenly she was no longer certain of anything.
