Scorched Heart (The Firebrand Series Book 4), Helen Harper [free ereaders .txt] 📗

‘Do you remember what I said? That everyone has their own darkness and difficulties?’

Her gaze dropped again. ‘Yeah,’ she mumbled. ‘But I thought you meant Albion. Not you.’

My voice was gentle. ‘I was talking about everyone. Me, Albion, you. Mary at the corner shop. The Queen.’ I let a beat pass. ‘Kim Kardashian.’

‘Did you say Kim Kardashian ’cos you’re trying to get down with the kids?’

I smiled slightly. ‘Did it work?’

‘No.’ But a tiny smile flashed across her face before she grew morose again. ‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘after I heard that about you, I thought I’d go to the cottage. I’ve been loads of times before. It used to be a dare to visit it in the dark. I was never scared. I don’t believe in ghosts.’

‘Good for you,’ I told her.

She looked pleased, then her tone changed. ‘It’s different when you know the people who were involved. After I knew it was you—’ Her gaze shifted away. ‘I dunno. I just wanted to see it again. I can’t explain it.’

‘You don’t have to.’

‘I’m sorry that happened to you.’

‘Thank you, Chloe.’

She sniffed. ‘I’m not always a bitch and a bully. Sometimes I can be nice.’

‘I bet that you’re nice most of the time.’

She shrugged. ‘No. Not really.’ She said it matter-of-factly, but I suspected that there was a whole lot more going on underneath her blithe answer.

‘So what happened?’ I asked gently. ‘What happened when you got to the cottage?’

A car drove by, music blaring out of its windows. Chloe jumped at the sound and I put a hand on her shoulder. ‘I wanted to try and get inside but it was locked. Someone had been there, though. There was a new lock. I went round the back to see if I could break one of the windows and climb in. That’s when I heard the voice.’

I stilled. ‘Go on.’

‘It sounded like a man. He was laughing. A lot,’ she added darkly. ‘I thought he was another pig – your lot are everywhere. I didn’t want to get in trouble for hanging around the cottage, so I tried to hide. But I stepped on some broken glass and he heard me.’ Her body shuddered. ‘He came after me.’

Chloe’s eyes widened in fear again as she re-lived the experience. ‘There was nowhere to go. I climbed up onto the cottage roof and then … and then … and then…’

‘Take your time, Chloe. There’s no rush.’

She nodded jerkily and took a moment to regain her composure before speaking again. ‘I saw him, and he wasn’t a man at all. I’m not lying,’ she whispered. ‘I promise I’m not. He was covered in black hair from head to toe. Like … all over.’ She gestured with her hands. ‘He had a long nose and his ears—’ She shook her head.

‘He was a bear – he looked like a bear, anyway. He looked up and saw me and his mouth opened like he was going to bite. He started trying to climb up after me and he had these claws and,’ her words were coming thick and fast, running into each other as her panic returned, ‘and … and … and … he had this look in his eye. I knew. I knew he was about to kill me. I don’t know why, I just knew.’ She gulped back a sob.

‘It’s okay. You’re safe now. Have a break for a few minutes and gather your thoughts.’

She shook her head, determined to get to the end of her story. ‘The bear jumped and swung at me but he missed. He looked like he was going to try again but I screamed again as loud as I could and … and … and … and…’ She gulped again.

‘Shhh. Take a breath.’

‘I’m not lying,’ she said again.

‘Yeah.’ I gazed at her as the heavy dullness in my chest returned. ‘I know.’

In the end, DCI Boateng came to us, rather than the other way around. It was easier than trying to persuade Chloe to go to the station. I watched him as he listened to her story, his face growing darker with every word. Despite his obvious unhappiness, he was good with her; he didn’t treat her like a child or patronise her and the extra detail he managed to coax out of her could prove invaluable.

‘You said you heard laughing but you heard a voice too,’ Boateng said gently. ‘Close your eyes, Chloe. Remember that voice. What accent was it?’

‘English,’ she answered instantly. ‘Definitely English.’

‘London? Scouse? Geordie?’

She shook her head. ‘From round here.’

Boateng’s gaze remained firmly fixed on Chloe but I could see him tense. ‘You’re sure?’

She nodded. ‘It wasn’t just his voice. He was complaining about the cheese-bugs.’

His brow creased in confusion while a sudden memory came unbidden into my mind. My mum warning me to leave the cheese-bugs in peace and that they didn’t want me to build them a house. Woodlice: cheese-bug was a local term for woodlice. I swallowed and nodded. It wasn’t a term I’d heard anyone use outside Kent.

‘What else did he say? If you can remember the exact words he used…’

‘I can remember.’ There was a touch of defiance in Chloe’s tone, and I was surprised at how relieved I felt upon hearing it. She wasn’t cowed, not by a long shot. ‘He said that she would rue the fucking day she’d dared to return from the dead.’

A single shot of pure ice ran all the way from my neck to the base of my spine.

‘Did he sound like he was talking to himself?’ Boateng asked, while I clenched and unclenched my fists and tried to remember to breathe. ‘Or was he talking to someone else?’

Chloe tilted up her chin and met his eyes. ‘I didn’t see anyone else,’ she said. ‘I only saw the bear. And there was only one voice.’ She dropped to a whisper. ‘But I think there were two of them.’

Boateng and I walked in grim silence towards the cottage