No Stone Tells Where I Lie - Madeline Kalvis (easy books to read txt) 📗

about it, islands are a lot like boats. Ideally, they need to stay at least slightly above the water line, and they should ensure that their passengers are not lost at sea. But there’s something insidious about an island. If a boat is adrift with no way to get you where you need to go, people call that a bad boat. Give them an island and they never even notice that they’re lost. It took a lot of time to get this place just right. Do you like it?”

“Do you always talk this much?” Emma pulled a tangle of dark green leaves away from her face and walked a little faster. Zoe matched her pace perfectly. So perfectly that Emma could only hear one set of footsteps as they tramped through the fallen leaves.

On the ground in front of her something was wedged into the loop of an exposed tree root. On closer inspection it turned out to be an old boot.

“A clue, Inspector?”

“Constable, and no. This is years old. Maybe Steve's. Maybe somebody else's.”

“It's like watching Sherlock Holmes at work.”

“We're here on a courtesy visit, not a rescue mission. For once there aren't any missing people to round up.”

“Then our little wave of not-crime is over?”

Emma kept walking. “I didn't say that.”

The Culley removed all distraction. In the distance birds squawked their usual ear-splitting chorus. But as soon as the two approached, any birds that were near them fell silent and watched. The smell from the cannery and the shifting sea aroma of salt, seaweed, and generations of muck were replaced with a steady smell of fresh leaves on the trees and old leaves slowly grinding to mud under their feet. The ground was wet, and the sucking sounds of their shoes made a subtle rhythm. This was a place where it was impossible not to think.

Zoe’s voice came soft and pleasant.

“You're not tired?”

“I don't need much sleep.”

“That's not what I asked.  You've been busy for someone who's only been on the island a couple of days.”

“And how long have you been here, then?”

“Some time. I've been busier than you.”

“That's not what I asked. But I'll bite. Is it meth? Heroin? Do you and Evan sell heroin to these people?”

“Explains a lot, doesn't it? I mean, they're not the brightest lot around here.”

“You're in no position to talk back to me. Answer the question.” Emma shot a look over her shoulder and saw Zoe glaring back at her. “What’s the matter, Miss Hall? Don’t want to put your cards on the table? Face it. You're a petty criminal on an island in the middle of nowhere. And worse you're a liar. Whatever you’ve been up to on South Alderney is over.”

Zoe returned her look of triumph. “Who is this lecturing me?”

“PC Emma Cambourne. I know exactly who you are, and when I find out the details of what you’re doing here I will arrest you and send you to be dealt with by the courts in England.”

Emma tried to scramble over the rocks and roots of The Culley floor as quickly as she could. She turned around when she realized she didn't hear anything behind her. Zoe stood perfectly still under the low canopy.

“Oh, please, tell me who I am. I'd love to hear your first guess.”

“You're a predator with a taste for miserable people.”

A ledge of gravel slid off the side of The Culley and onto the path, obscuring a few small roots. Emma only had a second to wonder about it before Zoe brought her back with her warm, pressing voice.

“Shockingly close, but no. Don’t give up guessing, I like this new angle. Suddenly you're the noble police officer, rescuing the downtrodden. Hilarious. Miserable people, preyed upon by the rapacious outsider? You don't care what happens to these people, or anyone else.”

Emma’s composure flickered, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You think you’re so well hidden, but nobody hides from me. I watched you pretend not to see people on the street so you wouldn't have to make eye contact. I saw how uncomfortable you were when your husband showed up at the station, like a crippled child who escaped from the attic.”

Emma fought the desire to punch her in the face. Zoe crept closer.

“How else do we explain, Constable, why you’re wasting your time in the woods trying to intimidate a, what did you call me, petty criminal? You don’t know who will be the next person to die, because you haven’t even been looking. Might cut into your time playing Stuck in the Mud with baddies.”

Emma’s anger rose and faded. Then it was gone. Zoe intensified the onslaught by sweetening her voice.

“Forgive me, I haven’t asked you how you are feeling in your own words. I’m just excited to finally meet you. New people always bring fresh horrors. How has my island been treating you? Have you been feeling alright? Have you seen anything that isn’t there? Forgotten any details about people and places? There are one or two places that are particularly difficult to remember properly.”

“You can’t convince me I’m crazy, you gaslighting piece of shit.”

“No, I can’t. But then again, I don’t have to, do I?”

Emma smoothed the expression on her face. “What is it you want?”

“I told you already. I want to help you. I want you to see the truth that’s in front of your eyes, and act accordingly.”

“Oh yes? How is that, Zoe?” Emma raised her eyebrows and attempted a cavalier smile. Zoe’s face did not move.

“Don't act stupid. You must have figured something out by now. Do you think you’re strolling through the woods having a conversation with the mousy scientist? How do you think I know so much about you, Constable? Oh, sorry. I shouldn’t call you that, should I? Not since you were sacked.”

“What?”

“Sacked. Made redundant. Fired, you people say. That’s why you’re hiding out here, isn’t it? Nice work on the forged paperwork. I doubt anyone even noticed. If they did notice, nobody cared.”

Emma swallowed hard