Cruel Minds (12 page)

Emily heaved her shoulders. “How would I know?”

She waited for Helen to tidy up Oscar’s room, then followed her out into the hall. As soon as they had closed the door behind them, the dull tone of the lunch bell resounded through the house. Lifting a finger to her lips, Helen winked, then scuttled away towards the stairs.

Jerome’s door was the first to open.

“Someone’s hungry,” he said, seeing Emily. His smile faded. “Listen, I didn’t mean to snap at you before. It’s just—well, you’re still recovering. The last thing you need right now is to get mixed up in more trouble.”

Emily stared at him.

“I just want you to be okay, that’s all.”

“I am okay,” she said, her voice hard and cold.

Doors opened. The other guests emerged from their rooms, eyeing each other as they headed for the stairs.

Guilt welled up in her chest. “Look, I know you’re worried about me and I appreciate it. I really do.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Deciding now was not the best time to tell Jerome of her encounter with Helen, Emily hooked her arm in his, and together, they made their way down to the dining hall.

***

T
he others were already sat down, waiting as Sam dished up hot lentil soup.

In an apparent bid to keep the peace, Janelle had wedged herself between Ben and Daniel. Helen sat opposite. She looked up, catching Emily’s eye. The emptiness of Oscar’s seat pervaded the room like an uninvited dinner guest. Emily slipped into the adjacent chair, letting Jerome sit next to Daniel. Helen passed a bowl of soup across the empty space and Emily took it.

At the end of the table, some colour had returned to Melody’s complexion. She leaned over towards Emily. “Are you all right? You look funny.”

“I’m fine.” Marcia still wasn’t here. How long had it been since she’d set off to Lyndhurst? The absence of time was beginning to feel more like a trap than a release.

Once everyone was seated and had bowls of soup in front of them, Pamela stood up. “I think you’ll agree that our present circumstances are deeply upsetting and made all the more confusing by Oscar being a stranger to us all,” she said. “Nevertheless, I’d like to ask everyone here to take a moment to think of Oscar’s family. They no doubt have an extremely difficult time ahead of them, so for a few minutes, let’s try to focus on sending positive thoughts and—”

“Why aren’t the police here yet?” Pamela looked down the table at Helen. “I mean, how long does it take to drive to Lyndhurst. Ten, fifteen minutes?”

All eyes turned towards Pamela.

“We’re not easy to get to,” she said. “You’ve experienced that for yourself. And it’s a small station manned by a handful of officers. It may take some time to organise themselves.”

“Hicksville,” muttered Sylvia, not quite under her breath.

Helen persisted. “Still, it has to have been over an hour. Hasn’t it? Does anyone actually know what time it is?”

Murmurs travelled along the table.

“She has a point,” Janelle said, her usual warmth waning. “Even if the emergency services are busy organising themselves, wouldn’t Marcia have headed back to let us know what’s going on? She knows we have no means of communication.”

“That’s right,” Ben said. His lip had grown even fatter, like a ripe plum. “Where is she? And what
is
the time? I’ve had enough of this digital detox bullshit. You have a computer in your office. Computers tell the time.”

Pamela looked around the table. She hesitated before sliding a hand into her pocket and pulling out a wrist watch.

“It’s a little after two-thirty.”

Sylvia’s eyes narrowed. “And where did you get that from?”

“It stays in my pocket. We need to have some kind of way to time meals and the yoga sessions. Look, might I suggest that we eat the lunch Sam has kindly prepared for us and give Marcia a little more time. This isn’t the city. Things can take a little longer. Besides, I think it’s best we keep ourselves—”

“What about the computer?” Sylvia interrupted. “Can’t we just jump online and get help that way?”

“No phone line, no internet,” Sam explained.

“Has anyone tried the phone again?” Helen said. “Perhaps there’s some sort of fault that can be fixed. Like a disconnected wire or something.”

Frustration crept into Pamela’s voice. “Of course we’ve tried. You’re more than welcome to check for yourself. The junction box is on the outside wall to the left of the porch.”

Helen was on her feet and moving out of the room before Pamela could say another word.

“And what about compensation?” Ben pushed his bowl of soup away and folded his arms. “Not just for the things we’ve had stolen but for this whole sorry weekend.”

Emily watched Pamela’s calm demeanour fracturing like a broken eggshell. She wasn’t envious of her having to manage the chaos. “As I clearly mentioned before, everyone will be compensated.”

“And how about getting out of here?” Sylvia cut in.

“We’ll have to deal with that once Sergeant Wells has arrived. I’m sure there’s a simple solution. If your vehicle is insured perhaps you can get replacement keys.”

“
Perhaps
isn’t going to get me home, is it?”

Ben and Sylvia sat back in their chairs, glaring at Pamela.

“This will all be over very soon,” she said, holding up her hands once more. “I’m sure by the time we’ve finished eating, Marcia will be on her way.”

“Yeah, on her way to the nearest pawn shop,” Sylvia snorted.

Spent, Pamela slumped onto her chair. Quiet descended over the table. Emily stared into her soup. She had no appetite. In fact, apart from Jerome, no one had even lifted their spoons. Pamela was probably right; rural police forces lacked both the resources and manpower that city constabularies possessed. It was understandable, then, that it would take longer to organise themselves. But that knowledge did nothing to quell the doubt that had taken hold of Emily’s mind.

When Helen burst into the room moments later, out of breath and pointing towards the door, doubt quickly turned to panic.

“Get up!” Helen breathed, skidding to a halt on the flagstone floor. “You have to see what I’ve found!”

E
mily followed the others past the Hardys’ living quarters, through the back door, and out onto the porch. Helen raced along, pointing to a grey metal box attached to the exterior wall. The group crowded around, bustling against each other as they strained to see. A gap opened up and Emily squeezed into it. From where she now stood, she could see the wiring inside the box protruding like spindly fingers.

Panicked voices filled the air.

“Whoever broke into the office must have cut the line to stop us from getting help,” Helen said. “Or to at least buy them more time to make a break for it.”

Daniel waded through the bodies until he stood beside Emily. “Wouldn’t that suggest the thief is an outsider? And that he’s now long gone with our belongings.”

“Not necessarily. Perhaps the thief is right here, waiting for the right opportunity to grab their stash and run.”

Each person in the group turned and eyed the others.

“Well if it’s one of us, we need to find out who,” Janelle said, her calm demeanour all but gone. “I have places to be on Monday. I can’t be stuck here, waiting for a replacement car key.”

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the group. Helen held up a hand. “The question is, how do we go about uncovering the thief’s identity?”

“That’s easy,” Ben said, pushing his way to the front. Sylvia followed after him. “We do like I said. We search everyone’s rooms.”

“Absolutely not.” Heads turned towards Pamela, who had moved away from the group in a clear attempt to re-establish her position as leader. Her eyes moved from face to face. “I understand your concern and I sympathise with you all, but I will not have you ransacking through my house like Vikings. When Sergeant Wells gets here, whoever stole your belongings will answer to him.”

“But when will he get here, Pamela?” Helen said. Heads swivelled back to her. “The police should have been here ages ago. Meanwhile, a thief is about to get away with our belongings and poor Oscar is still out there hanging from a tree.”

At the mention of Oscar’s name, silence fell over the group. Emily felt fingers squeeze her arm. Jerome’s worried face peered down at her.

“I don’t like this,” he whispered. “It’s getting out of hand.”

Emily could only agree. Suspicions had already been running high, but the discovery of the sabotaged phone line and now the idea that there was a thief among them only served to feed the group’s paranoia. How long would it be before they descended into mob mentality?

“We form a search party and go room to room,” Ben said. “If no one has anything to hide, there’ll be nothing to find. At least that way we’ll know who we can trust.”

“Good idea,” Helen said. “But everyone needs to agree.”

“And what if we don’t?” Daniel asked.

“Well, I guess Sergeant Wells will know who to call on first when he arrives.”

“You can’t do this,” Pamela said, thrusting a hand on her hip. “It’s unethical and I won’t allow it.”

Helen smiled. “What if we have everyone’s permission? You all want to get out of here, right? The quicker we find the thief, the quicker we find our car keys. Let’s see a show of hands.”

Ben, Sylvia, and Helen raised their hands immediately, followed by Janelle.

“What about the rest of you?” Helen stared at Jerome. “Do you give permission for your rooms to be searched?”

“Only if you promise to make my bed while you’re in there,” Jerome said.

“How about you, Emily?”

The idea of strangers rifling through her belongings left Emily feeling deeply uncomfortable, but she had a feeling that it was about to happen whether or not she gave permission. Besides, she didn’t want to give Helen any cause to start asking personal questions that would lead to her name appearing in newspapers again.

Reluctantly, she nodded.

Helen turned to Melody. “What about you?”

“No.” Melody’s body seemed to shrink in on itself like a punctured balloon. “It's my private space. I don’t want you going in there.”

“It’ll be all over in two minutes,” Sylvia said, taking a step towards her. “If you have nothing to hide, then there’s nothing to worry about.”

“No! It’s my room, my space. You’re not allowed to violate it.”

“I think perhaps Melody and I will join that search party,” Jerome said, moving up beside her. “Someone needs to make sure everything’s above board.”

“Me too.” Daniel shot a challenging glare at Ben.

Helen’s eyes moved to Pamela. “The more the merrier. We’ll just search the guest rooms for now.”

Before Pamela could reply, the group began to disperse.

“Are you coming?” Jerome waited for Emily as the others headed back towards the house.

Emily remained where she was, a tight knot of anxiety twisting her stomach. She had no interest in rummaging through people’s personal belongings, and now that Jerome would be there to oversee the search, she at least knew it would be conducted with both sensitivity and military-like precision.

Shaking her head, she watched him disappear inside the house. Only Pamela and Sam remained. Both were silent and unmoving.

“A few stolen phones and people are up in arms,” Emily said. “A stranger hangs himself and no one wants to know.”

Pamela nodded, slowly and deliberately. The air felt thick with trouble. “You’ve just summed up everything that’s wrong with modern society.”

T
he search began with Jerome’s room. To everyone’s surprise, Helen had elected not to join the search party but to remain downstairs, putting together a rough outline of her news story. Standing in the doorway, Jerome watched as Ben and Sylvia went to work.

“I hope you’re going to leave that bed as neat as you found it,” he warned as Sylvia pulled up the mattress. “If there’s one thing I can’t stand it’s creased sheets.”

“We need to look in your bags,” Ben said.

Out in the corridor, Melody was growing increasingly animated, hovering from one foot to the other, and swinging her arms from side to side.

Finding nothing, Ben and Sylvia filed out of the room. Seconds later, Helen’s door opened, and Daniel and Janelle stepped out.

“It’s clean,” Janelle said. She stared across the corridor at Oscar’s door. “Should we take a look?”

“Maybe a quick look,” Jerome replied. Brushing past Melody, he followed Ben and Sylvia into Emily’s room. Being here without Emily felt like an invasion of her privacy, especially when strangers whom he disliked with increasing intensity were rifling through her belongings. But seeing as how Ben and Sylvia were conducting their search with about as much subtlety as a police raid on a drug den, he had little choice but to track their movements with hawk-like attention.

While Ben pulled back bedsheets and pillows, Sylvia picked up Emily’s toiletry bag and tugged on the zip.

“You don’t need to look in there,” Jerome said.

“Why not?”

“Because there’s such a thing as discretion—something you’ve obviously never heard of.” He marched towards her. Ben stepped in between, blocking his path.

Jerome watched as Sylvia unzipped the bag and pulled out strips of medication.

“Okay, now you’re crossing a line.” He pushed past Ben and snatched the pills away. “This isn’t anything to do with what you’re looking for.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Sylvia asked.

“Nothing. You don’t know her. You’ve no right to go making judgements.” Jerome returned the toiletry bag to the dresser. “I think we’re done in here.”

Janelle’s and Daniel’s rooms were next, followed by Sylvia’s and Ben’s. Each pair searched the others while Jerome stood in between, keeping a watchful eye. Meanwhile, Melody moved on to chewing her fingernails.

“Well, I guess you’re both off the hook,” Jerome said to Ben and Sylvia, once their rooms had been searched from top to bottom. “To be honest, my money was on the pair of you.”

“Us?” Ben’s face soured to a dangerous shade of purple. “We can more than afford to buy the things we want without resorting to stealing!”