Silencing the Dead Will Harker (free ebooks for android TXT) đ
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- Author: Will Harker
Book online «Silencing the Dead Will Harker (free ebooks for android TXT) đ». Author Will Harker
âSounds like heâs talking about fate,â I suggested. âOr maybe a reckoning? I guess that would play into the trauma of whatâs happened to him recently. Being questioned and exposed. But what does he expect you to do about it? Youâre a strong lad, Nick, but you canât protect him from his own paranoia.â
âHeâs looking for a way out, thatâs my guess,â Nick said. âSomething solid he can pin a reasonable fear on. If he can go to the producers and say, âHereâs a tangible threat to my safety, so Iâm not doing the gig,â maybe theyâll reorganise the whole thing.â
âYou donât think heâs scared of the reputation of the house itself?â I thought back to my conversation with Miss Rowell and her conviction that those who exploited Purley often came to a sticky end. When Nick denied that Everwood had ever mentioned Purley in those terms, I asked again, âSo, whyâs he coming here? From what youâve told me, heâs successful enough to pull out of the event if he wants to.â
âHe was,â Nick said. âBut all that was before little Miss Instagrammerâs public meltdown. His publicity team have gone into damage limitation overdrive, but a lot of the mud has stuck. Tickets for his gigs have collapsed, theatres have pulled bookings, old celeb pals are giving him the cold shoulder. Darrel Everwood is toxic goods right now. Between us, he spends brass like thereâs no tomorrow. Long story short, he needs the money.â
I nodded. âWell, itâd be devastating for the fair if he did cancel. Weâre only pulling in punters over these few nights because of the excitement leading up to the TV show. So Iâm not sure if I should wish you well, Nicky. All I can say is, it was good to see you.â
Iâd started to move away when that iron hand caught my wrist again. Unbalanced, I was pulled around to face him. His breath steamed the night air, faint wisps drifting against my lips.
âI missed you, you know,â he said. âAfter you left Noonan and joined the police. I know it was never anything more than just sex between us, but I wanted to sayââ
âNo.â I prised his fingers from my arm and repeated, âNo.â
A curse, an apology, a questionâI canât say what he called after me. My mind was reeling, my blood pounding almost in time to the roar of the fair. I headed straight for it, desperate for its numbing clamour to envelop me. To hide me. What if someone had seen Nick and me together in that moment? And what if they then happened to mention it to Haz? This unexpected intrusion of my old life made me nervous. And yet it wasnât only those years I had spent doing Mark Noonanâs dirty work, nor the intimacy Iâd shared with Nick that unsettled me. For weeks now, things hadnât been right between me and Haz, and I had no idea why. All I sensed was that we were hanging on by the slimmest thread and that it wouldnât take much to sever it entirely.
I came to a stop. Tried to let my thoughts settle. The first of the crowds were streaming in, squeaking and squabbling as they always do. In a few days, this Halloween event would be over, I told myself. The fair would move on and us with it. Nicholas Holloway and all he represented would be gone. Then there would be time for Haz and me to talk, to figure things out, to start again.
I wanted that, didnât I?
I started shouldering my way between the throng. Travellers called out greetings from their stalls and in answer I plastered on the most convincing smile I could. Turning a corner, I found the kiddieâs carousel we had rented from my dad, gleaming and ready for the nightâs trade. Sal Myers and her daughter Jodie straightened up from their work, my goddaughter flicking a wet sponge in my direction. Buckets of soapy water stood at their feet, suds sprinkled in their matching auburn hair. I came over and cupped Jodieâs raw little hands in mine, rubbing warmth into them.
âYou didnât have to do this,â I said.
âSomeone had to,â Sal muttered. âThe ride looked a proper state before Jodes and I got to work. Didnât it, love?â
The mirror image of her mother, Jodie treated me to an identical scowl. Then that pixie face cracked into the biggest grin and she tugged at my sleeve. âWanna hear the song Iâve been practising with Uncle Haz?â
Not waiting for an answer, she launched into a surprisingly soulful rendition of Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen. Even Sal stopped glaring at me for a full ninety seconds. As Jodie hit the final note, me, her mother, and a passing family all broke into spontaneous applause. Haz had worked his usual wonders and it was pretty clear that the munchkin had found her forte. Sheâd certainly abandoned her former ambition of following in my footsteps and becoming a detective. Smart girl.
âWhere is Haz?â I asked, leaning in and tweaking her nose.
I looked up to find Sal gazing at my knuckles. Specifically at the burn marks from the wet bedsheet.
âI need you to go back to the trailer and put the buckets away, sweetheart,â she said, her eyes still on my fists. When Jodie started to moan, Sal threw her the kind of look that turned pissed-up punters sober on the spot. I gave the little girl a reassuring wink and she sighed glumly and heaved away at the first bucket, dirty suds splashing her dungarees.
âSo,â Sal said when her daughter was out of earshot. âBeen finding trouble again?â
âJust a tussle with the laundry.â
âYou know something, Scott, IâŠ
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