Suzy - Gary L Beer (best e book reader for android TXT) 📗

“You have to stop worrying, everything’s going to be all right.” reassures Sharon.
“I got things to worry about, what will happen to me if they find out I killed Doug?” replies Suzy in an hysterical voice.
“Calm down will you just because they are following you does not mean they know anything, do not let them wear you down or you will make mistakes. Wait until the Guide has gone then we will talk about it, you want more coffee?”
“No I am good thanks, or I will be peeing all night.”
“Well I am going to have one, it is lucky you do not smoke or you would be chain smoking, the stressed condition you are in.” says Sharon as she fills the kettle with water.
“I never liked smoking as it made me cough too much.”
“Made me sick when I tried it, mind you I was only eleven years old.” laughs Sharon as she turns the kettle on to boil; “you sure you do not want one?”
“Go on then, but I am going be up all night.”
Sharon takes Suzy's cup from her outstretched hand as the Girl Guide knocks gently on the back door; “That must be the Guide, you got any money for her?”
Suzy frowns as she stands and walks out of the kitchen into the lounge, coming back in carrying a few pounds in her hand she passes them to Sharon; “Give her that please, I need the loo.” not giving Sharon a chance to reply she turns quickly and makes her way to the bathroom.
Sharon opens the back door smiling broadly; “You have done a good job, thank you, I hope this helps towards your new roof.” she says as she hands the Girl Guide the money.
“Thank you.” smiles Paris as she takes the money; “Bye.” she says as she hurries away.
Sharon shuts the door quietly; there was something odd about the young girls behaviour and Sharon wonders if she had overheard anything. Thinking back over the time spent with Suzy when the Girl Guide was in the garden Sharon realises that they had the back door wide open. The chances of the girl hearing what they were talking about are quite high and Sharon blushes a deep red in realisation.

“What is the matter with you?” asks Suzy seeing Sharon's red worried face.
“I think your paranoia is brushing off, I feel as worried as you.”
“Those police following us has got me really scared I cannot even talk to a Girl Guide.”
“I wondered why you ran away, the trouble is you are bottling it all up; I know you cope very well on your own because you have had to with all your family dead. Losing Doug has put you completely on your own and I bet you feel like you felt when your mum died. I know how you feel my mums' been dead nine years now and I miss her terribly. But you are not on your own, I am here and Lewis is around somewhere, the sight of the police has probably kept him away.”
“I have been wondering about Lewis as he has not called or even tried to phone Me.” replies a worried Suzy.
“You meeting him at the shop and the way he helped you is a sign, I think you should trust him. When you first told me about him I did wonder about his motives as you said he fancied you, but I cannot see you getting involved with him in that way. Killing Darren the way he did and the way he got rid of the bodies makes him appear to be a cold bastard; if you upset him.”
“Yes, he has been really nice to me all the time I have known him and I cannot ever remember us arguing about anything.”
“The more I think about it the more I am convinced that Girl Guide heard us talking about Doug being down the Well. She appeared nervous, if not scared of me when she told me she had finished.”
Suzy's face turns pale as her jaw drops open; “What are we going to do?” she asks in a scared voice.
“We need to talk to Lewis; you must phone him.” answers Sharon nervously.

Paris waits her time to ask her Dad about the Well, waiting until he had finished his dinner and is smoking a cigarette she joins him in the back garden.
“Dad have you ever heard of an empty Well in this area?”
Breathing out a cloud of smoke her Dad looks at her; “Who have you been listening to?”
“I was weeding this lady's garden this afternoon and I could hear her friend and her talking about it; and there being a dead body there.”
“Yes I know where there is a dry Well as it happens, though it may not be the one they were talking about.”
“Can we go and see it please Daddy?” asks Paris in her politest voice.
Her Dad looks up at the sky; “It is nearly dark, can you wait until the morning?” he asks, not believing a dead body is there.
Paris buries her impatience and would make a bad Poker player, as her face betrays her feelings.
“Have you ever been out in the woods in the dark before?” asks her Dad, knowing the answer.
“No I never have, but I would like to.” replies Paris excitedly.
“Not tonight, we will try and find the Well in the morning and if the weather stays nice I will take you to see a Badger set in the evening.”
Paris's face lights up with excitement; “Can we go really early please Dad?”
“If I get up in time, it is my day off after all.”
Paris runs forward and kisses her Dad on the cheek; “Thanks Dad, I do love you.”
“You will not think that tomorrow, it is a long walk to the Well.”
“It will be fun.” says Paris with a huge smile on her face.

Paris opens the door as quietly as she can without dropping the tray of breakfasts. Admittedly it was only six thirty in the morning and she hoped the bribe of breakfast in bed would work.
Setting the tray down on the unit next to her Dad's head the faint noise makes him open his eyes; “What is all this then?” he asks in mock surprise as he had been awake for about an hour and had heard Paris moving around.
“I thought that you and Mummy would like breakfast in bed.” smiles Paris.
“Your Mother did not sleep well last night, best I eat it downstairs so we can let her sleep.”
Paris nods her head in silent agreement picks up the tray and walks softly out of the bedroom.

An hour later Malcolm, Paris's Dad pulls up beside a large gate that leads to an ancient meadow.
Hardly waiting for her Dad to turn the engine off Paris unbuckles her safety belt, opens the door and runs to the gate. Standing on the bottom rail Paris eagerly looks out across the field. All is still and quiet except for the sound of a green woodpecker as it noisily searches for food.
Joining Paris at the gate her Dad looks across at the silent field; “Looks like we have got the place to ourselves, this is the way in.” he tells her as he walks to the right of the gate. Beside the large gate a pedestrian access has been built in the form of a wooden stile which they clamber over. To the right of the stile a faded notice almost unreadable shows the name of the meadow and some of the wildlife that can be seen in the area.
“Where is it Dad?” asks Paris excitedly.
Pointing to the far corner of the field Malcolm says; “In that far corner, please do not go running off especially when we are down there as it is boggy and can be treacherous.”
“Ok Dad.” laughs Paris as she runs in the direction of the Well, when she is about two hundred metres from her Dad she turns around and looks at him impatiently; “Come on Dad, we want to get there today.”
“Watch your lip, do not forget it is a long walk home from here.” he jokingly replies.
Paris continues towards the Well at a much slower pace and her Dad catches up with her as she reaches the stream.
“We will have to cross over using that bridge.” he tells her pointing at the bridge made of railway sleepers.
“Are there any fish?” asks Paris hopefully as she stares into the clear water.
“I have never seen any, but this stream does dry up in the summer.”
Giving up looking for non-existent fish Paris runs over the bridge and makes her way towards the woodland.
Hurrying after her Malcolm catches up with her at the edge of a large patch of thick mud. Hoof prints from the cows penetrate twenty centimetres into the mud highlighting the thickness and Paris looks at her Dad in dismay; “How are we going to get past that?” she asks disappointment filling her voice.
“We will go this way.” laughs Malcolm as he walks along the edge of the trees. Twenty metres further on a faint trail leads into the trees, the incline is slightly uphill and they are soon walking on dry ground.
A few metres into the trees the smell of rotting flesh drifts towards them, Malcolm turns and looks at Paris , his face slightly pale; “Sure does smell like someone has died.” he says grimly as he makes his way deeper into the trees.
The rotting smell gets stronger as they approach the Well and Malcolm is not too happy with having his daughter along. The shiny barbed wire surrounding the Well shines in the gloom under the trees and Malcolm stops to look around.
“What is it Dad?” asks Paris in an excited voice, apart from the awful smell all of this is just a big adventure to her. The thought that it may be a dead body that is producing the smell; and the murderer may still be around had not occurred to her.
“That smell is making me feel sick, I was looking in case I tread on anything horrible.” says Malcolm as he looks around amongst the trees. A blackbird the other side of the shiny barbed wire appears and starts to look for food as it searches through the dead leaves. Turning the old leaves over and scratching the ground with its feet it finds what it is looking for as it pecks at the little insects.
Malcolm relaxes and starts to walk towards the Well; the blackbird