Stuart MacBride - Close to the Bone

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Soon. .

She turns her face to the heavy orange clouds and closes her eyes. The rain is cool and soothing on her skin, tiny cold kisses from the heavens. Making everything-

The hard blare of a car horn makes her flinch. She spins around and there’s a patrol car less than three feet away. Its headlights flash at her, and she holds up a hand, then steps back onto the pavement.

The patrol car drives by. Its occupants don’t even look in her direction. They think she’s just another Sheep.

Rowan steps back out into the road. His Fiat is nothing but a memory written on tarmac with raindrops. But that’s all right. She has plenty of time to wander back to where her own car’s parked.

After all, there’s no need to rush: she knows where he’s going.

Wednesday

36

The kettle’s grumbling rattle came through from the kitchen, fighting against the sound of Breakfast News in the living room where, apparently, everyone was getting great weather except for the north-east of Scotland. As bloody usual.

Logan lay back on the bed, arms folded behind his head. Have to get up in a minute. Any minute now. .

A clunk and the kettle lost its battle with the weatherman.

Jackie padded through wearing nothing but a Strathclyde Police Judo Team T-shirt, with a mug of tea in each hand and a slice of toast sticking out of her mouth. ‘Mnnnphnnn gnnph? ’

He sat up and accepted the proffered mug. ‘Still raining? ’

She pulled the toast out and chewed. ‘Give me two reasons why I should stay with Bill.’

Oh great: this again. ‘He’s Rory’s father? ’

‘That’s one. And it’s not even that good a reason. He’s still a selfish prick.’ She tore a bite out of the toast. ‘I am not moving to London, I don’t care if this is the job opportunity of a lifetime.’

The sigh escaped before he could stop it. Logan swung his legs out of the bed. ‘If you don’t like him, why do you stay with him? ’

‘That’s what I just asked you .’

Logan picked yesterday’s socks and pants off the floor and dumped them in the laundry basket, before shuffling and yawning through to the bathroom for a pee and a shower.

By the time he got back, Jackie was levering herself into the feat of mechanical engineering that was a concrete-coloured Doreen Triumph bra. Making it look as if she was wearing two halved zeppelins from the 1930s. The shiny crescent-shaped scar above her industrial grey pants disappeared as she hauled on her suit trousers.

At least she only had the one scar.

A linen shirt went over the bra that time forgot. ‘What are we doing? ’

Good question. Logan sat on the bed and pulled on a fresh pair of socks. ‘Same as usual, I suppose.’ Next: a pair of lucky bright-red pants, then suit trousers. ‘Reaching out because we’re lonely. Looking for a little comfort. A little human warmth. . What? ’

She was staring at him with her mouth hanging open. ‘I meant what are we doing tonight ? Not what,’ she pointed at them both, ‘whatever this is.’

‘Oh. Right.’ Heat raced up his neck into his cheeks and ears. ‘OK. Well, if you’re not going back to Glasgow, we could-’

‘Are you feeling guilty? Is that it? Guilty because she’s in the hospital? ’

Logan picked the nearest shirt in the wardrobe. ‘Yes.’

‘In the name of the wee man. .’ She grabbed her jacket. ‘Where did I leave my shoes? ’ Then stomped out of the bedroom, making the caravan floor shake.

Yes, because it was all his fault. He followed her into the living room, hauling the shirt on. ‘So you don’t feel guilty for cheating on Bill? ’

‘She’s been up there for two years, Logan, you really think that’s what she wants? You feeling guilty for having sex three or four times a year? ’

A wrinkled satchel of a face frowned out at them from the TV. ‘ . .important to remember that these are the people who support police investigations. They help catch killers. How can they do their job if the SPSA keeps changing everything?

‘You didn’t answer the question.’

‘I. .’ Her face pinched, eyes narrowed, then she turned and grabbed a pair of low-heeled boots from under the coffee table. ‘Going to be late.’

Mr Satchelface was replaced by a woman in an ugly blouse. ‘ Aberdeen now, and Grampian Police have issued a fresh appeal for information regarding the whereabouts of Agnes Garfield. .

‘Jackie, it’s-’

‘Of course I feel bloody guilty! OK? And I shouldn’t, he doesn’t deserve my guilt — he’s a selfish, thoughtless bastard who never even sees me any more. Even when he does come home, it’s like I’m not there.’

. .any information to call the hotline number, or contact your local police station. .

Jackie thumped down on the couch and hauled on her boots. ‘But would I leave him? Nooooo, I had to make it work for Rory’s sake, didn’t I? Why be happy in life when you can be bloody miserable? ’

‘So leave him.’

‘What about Rory? ’

In other news, police checkpoints are in place on the A96 between Kintore and Blackburn. .

Logan sat down on the couch beside her. ‘What’s going to be better for him growing up: you happy, or you miserable? ’

. .witnesses following the discovery of what appears to be a satanic murder inspired by the bestselling novel Witchfire on Monday evening. .

She stared at the screen. ‘It’s not that simple.’

‘Never is.’

We spoke to two the film’s stars, Nichole Fyfe and Morgan Mitchell .’ Onscreen, Mrs Uglyblouse was replaced by the familiar PR setup of Nichole and Morgan sitting in front of Witchfire posters.

‘What am I going to do, Logan? Leave Bill and come back and shack up with you? You me and Rory crammed in your girlfriend’s caravan? ’

Oh dear God. . Don’t say anything. Don’t even breathe!

Jackie stood. ‘That’s what I thought.’

Nichole leaned forward. ‘ First I have to say on behalf of everyone working on the film, that our hearts go out to those poor families.

Morgan nodded. ‘ They really do. It’s awful that these guys went through what they did-

‘I can’t. There isn’t. .’

‘You’re just going to sit here, like a bug stuck in fucking amber till she comes back.’

. .so important to stop this happening to anyone else. Which is why we’re going to do everything we can to help.

‘I am not stuck in amber.’

‘LOOK AT YOURSELF! It’s been two years and you’re still here. Why haven’t you finished fixing up the flat? I’ll tell you why: because you can’t move on. You were always the bloody same!’ She turned and banged out of the room.

‘Jackie!’

Out into the corridor.

‘Jackie, wait.’

She was in the bedroom, grabbing her rucksack from the floor. ‘You want a sign, Logan? Here’s your sign.’ She ripped down the sheet of paper Sellotaped to the wardrobe mirror and hurled it at him. ‘ That’s what’s wrong with you.’

She shoved past, wrenched open the front door, then slammed it hard enough to make the mugs in the kitchen clatter.

Silence.

-ask if anyone’s seen, or knows anything about these terrible deaths, to come forward.

That’s right, people, you have to call the police before anyone else gets hurt.

Bit late for that.

Logan bent down and retrieved the sheet of paper. Smoothed it out against the wall. ‘LIKE IT OR NOT, YOU’RE STILL ALIVE’ printed in big black letters.

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