Written In Blood

26-1

26

Zack brought his Land Rover to a stop at the side of the road, and watched in the rear-view mirror as the figure ran down the road towards him. He was not normally in the habit of stopping for people who waved him down at bus stops, but on this occasion he recognised the person doing the waving. Even then he wouldn’t usually have stopped, but she looked so desperate that he couldn’t simply drive on without at least finding out what was up.

“Thank God you stopped, Kier...” Emily cut herself off when she realised that it wasn’t her brother in the Land Rover she had just flagged down. “Sorry, Mr Wild, I thought you were Kieran; I can’t imagine why, up close, the two of you look nothing alike.”

“That’s okay, Emily, I’ve got no problem with being mistaken for someone half my age,” Zack said with a smile. “And given how difficult it can be to see through a windscreen on a moving car, it’s not really a surprise that you thought I was your brother – there are superficial similarities between us: height, build, hair colour. So, why were you flagging your brother down?”

“I was after a lift home,” Emily said. “I missed the bus, and it’s ages till the next one. I thought my luck was in when I saw Kieran, or thought I did. If I have to wait till the next bus, I’ll be late getting home, and late getting dinner ready, and dad’ll kill me.”

“You could still be lucky,” Zack told her, noting the concern in the voice of the teen who had been helping him to tame the jungles that had once been gardens at his house. “If you ask nicely.”

“Please, can you give me a lift, Mr Wild, I’d be really grateful,” Emily said with what she hoped was a suitably coy look.

“Sure, I’ll take you home, and it’s Zack, remember,” he said. “I’m not keen on being called Mr Wild, it makes me feel old.”

“Thanks.” Emily threw her bag onto the floor in front of the passenger seat and then climbed in. “And for the record, you’re not old.”

Zack made no comment on that, instead he concentrated on pulling away from the kerb and re-joining the flow of traffic. Despite it being a Sunday, that was no easy feat, there seemed to be far more traffic on the road than was usual for an apparent day of rest. Fortunately, once he merged with the vehicles heading past the bus stop he made good time, and was soon on his way out of town.

The journey passed without conversation until they were on the road from town to Oakhurst. That was when a wince from Zack as he pressed down on the clutch while shifting gears prompted Emily to break the silence.

“Did Oliver do something to your foot when he attacked you last night?” she asked.

“You know I was attacked?” Zack asked in surprise.

Emily nodded. “The whole village knew by about eight this morning. Everyone knew why he attacked you as well.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because Sergeant Mitchell thinks you killed Georgie and Lucy,” Emily told him. “r***d and killed them even. Oliver attacked Kieran when he thought it was him who killed Georgie and Lucy, but now he thinks it’s you because Sergeant Mitchell arrested you yesterday, so he went after you. I know Oliver’s in hospital, that went round the village as well, but no-one’s said if you were hurt by Oliver and his moron friends.”

Zack was not pleased to hear that he was the subject of village gossip. He suspected he had been previously, but then it would only have been idle gossip about who he was, what he had done or did for a living, and why he had moved there; now it concerned whether he was a murderer of teenage girls. While a part of him refused to care what a group of gossiping villagers thought of him, a more significant part was distressed by the thought that the community he had chosen to join was willing to believe him guilty of such nasty crimes. There was something else about the situation that bothered him.

“If you know I was arrested on suspicion of r**e and murder, two counts no less, why on Earth did you get in the car with me?”

“Because Sergeant Mitchell’s an i***t,” Emily said, as though that was all the reason she could possibly need. “I know you didn’t kill Georgie or Lucy, you didn’t r**e them either.”

“What makes you think that?” Zack asked. It wasn’t that he was not glad that Emily thought him innocent, it was just that he could not help wondering how she could be so certain; she knew him better than anyone else in the village because of the time she had spent working with him in his gardens, but that didn’t mean she knew him all that well.

“Because you’re not that kind of person. You wouldn’t r**e anyone.” Emily showed absolutely no concern for the fact that she was in a vehicle with someone who had been accused of such an horrific crime, if anything she seemed amused, perhaps even thrilled by the situation. “Because, if you were going to r**e anyone, it’d be me.”

Zack was so shocked by that, he lost control momentarily; the steering wheel twitched in his hand, and he had to straighten up quickly before the Land Rover left the road and ploughed straight into one of the many trees that lined the route to the village. Once he recovered, and was no longer in danger of crashing his car, he turned to look at the teen in the passenger seat.

“Why d’you say that?” he asked, swallowing against the dryness in his throat.

“Because you fancy me. I know you do,” Emily said when Zack opened his mouth to deny it. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when we’re working in the garden, especially when you think I’m not looking. You like to check out my butt when I’m in shorts or tight trousers. Don’t worry about it.” She laid a reassuring a hand on his arm, a mischievous smile on her lips. “Why d’you think I wear shorts and tight trousers whenever I come round to work on your garden? I like it when you check me out, it makes me feel good.” Her hand stroked along his arm briefly before returning to her lap. “If I didn’t, I’d’ve told my dad, and he’d’ve come and sorted you out.”

Zack didn’t know how to respond to that; he couldn’t deny that he had checked Emily out – as the teen described it – not when she had made it so clear she knew what he had been doing. She had said she was not bothered by his checking her out, but that didn’t make him feel any better about the situation. To cover his discomfort, he turned on the radio, letting music fill the silence and drive away the urge to make idle conversation.

**