Scorched Heart (The Firebrand Series Book 4) by Helen Harper (top non fiction books of all time .txt) 📗

and Bush. With any luck, Jenkins would have already sent through the information and CCTV footage I needed. Maybe, I pondered, I should go and visit Julie’s house. She’d had some sort of relationship with Samuel Beswick so she also had a connection to that time, even though it was more tenuous than Patrick Lacey’s. I’d wait to see what information Jenkins uncovered first and then approach Boateng again.

As I crossed the street and rounded the corner, the familiar shape of the Bird and Bush came into sight. I picked up speed, anxious to check on Lukas, then I froze in mid-step and tilted my head. I’d heard something. What was it?

I listened harder. I was sure that… It was muffled and it was coming from some distance away, but it definitely sounded like a scream. Not a playful scream or a joyous one but a scream filled with fear.

I didn’t waste any time. I spun round and sprinted towards where the noise had come from, reaching for my crossbow and undoing the straps as I ran. The scream sounded like it had come from somewhere in the vicinity of my parents’ old cottage.

I flew down the road, my feet pounding against the tarmac. Run, Emma. Move faster. The buildings around me became a blur as I focused on whatever was ahead. I swerved round several parked cars, ignored the gaping pedestrians and thundered on until the last of the houses gave way to fields and trees. The road veered left but the dirt track heading to the cottage was on my right. I made a beeline for it, puffs of dirt clouding up from my feet.

The gate was closed but I vaulted over it into the overgrown garden. I whipped my head around, ignoring the lengthening shadows and searching for any signs of human movement. I heard a scuffle from somewhere round the back. My heart rate slowed. I lifted the tip of the crossbow and squinted to aim.

Come out, come out, whoever you are.

There was a rustle of leaves. I held my breath…

And then I jerked the crossbow upwards and away. ‘Bloody hell, Chloe! What do you think you’re doing?’ My burst of anger evaporated as soon as I registered her pale face and trembling body.

‘Has it gone?’ she asked shakily.

‘Has what gone? I’ve not seen anything.’ I took on a more urgent tone. ‘What is it? What did you see?’

She put her hand to her mouth and looked around, her gaze fearful. This Chloe was a million miles away from the brash teenager I’d encountered on the train. ‘A bear,’ she whispered. ‘I saw a bear.’

Chapter Twenty-One

I knew that she wasn’t lying; she was too scared for that. I drew her away from the cottage and walked with her back towards Barchapel. We stopped when we reached a small bench. ‘Let’s sit down and take a moment,’ I said. ‘Get your breath back.’

My stomach was churning. I’d been so sure when I’d gazed at the marks in the earth at Roselands that the theory of some kind of supe bear was completely wrong.

Chloe perched on the edge of the narrow wooden bench, prepared to flee at the slightest hint of danger. That wasn’t a bad thing; we all need decent survival instincts, and fleeing is far more sensible than fighting in most circumstances.

I needed to get her to start talking quickly before the logical part of her brain kicked in and she started questioning herself. I wanted the details before self-doubt took over. ‘I need you to tell me everything. It’s best if we go to the police station and—’

‘No,’ she interrupted, shaking her head fearfully. ‘Not there. Please. Can’t I just tell you here?’

If she felt more comfortable here, that was fine by me. I slid out my phone. ‘I’m going to record this. It’s only so that I don’t miss anything or have to ask you again. Okay?’ She nodded. ‘Start from the beginning,’ I advised. ‘What happened?’

‘I was at Roselands,’ she said. At my expression, she amended, ‘I heard about what happened yesterday and went there to take a look.’

She wasn’t the only Barchapel resident with a morbid curiosity about the latest death. ‘Okay.’

She bit her lip. ‘Do you know who it was? Do you know who was killed there? I heard someone say they thought it was Julie Mackintosh.’ She looked at me anxiously. ‘Is that right?’

‘Yes,’ I said, unwilling to hedge round the dark truth. ‘It was her.’

Chloe looked down at her lap. ‘She was always nice to me. Most adults aren’t. I see them looking at me as if I’m scum, but Julie wasn’t like that. She didn’t cross the street to get away from me. She used to say hello and ask me how I was doing.’

For all Chloe’s swaggering front, she was incredibly sensitive. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I was talking to her on my first night here and she was nice to me, too.’

She twisted her fingers together. ‘Was it a bear? Did a bear kill Patrick Lacey too?’

‘I don’t know about that.’ I smiled at her, trying to reassure her. ‘What happened? After you went to Roselands?’

Chloe shrugged. ‘There wasn’t much to see. And after a while it felt kinda stupid, you know? Other people were there and everyone was gawking at the park and gossiping about what had happened.’ She shuddered. ‘I thought about going home, but then I overheard what a few people were saying.’ She raised faintly accusing eyes. ‘You didn’t tell me who you really are.’

‘I told you my name.’

‘Yeah, but you didn’t tell me you were that Emma. When I was at Roselands, I heard Mary who runs the corner shop talking about you. She said this village was cursed and that you coming back proves it.’ Chloe scowled. ‘I offered to take you to the cottage. You should have told me that it was you, that it was your parents who were murdered there.’ She crossed her arms. ‘You should