Thrown (18 page)

‘They didn’t leave you, Dad, they were killed. And I’m allowed to live my own life.’

‘Your own life? Painting? Is that it? You want to sit on your ass all day and paint? Why can’t you be a man like your brother?’

‘I’m not James.’

‘Oh, you’ve got that right. He was going to be successful, make something of his life. While you…you just want to throw yours away.’

‘Is that why you killed her?’

‘Killed who? That woman who filled your head with useless dreams? I didn’t kill her.’ He hesitates a moment. ‘She fell.’

‘I know you were there.’

‘Of course I was there. I’m not going to let her steal my son away. I went to give her a piece of my mind, tell her to stay away from you. What makes her think she can be your parent? I’m your parent.’

‘Yes, you are my parent. A bad parent.’

‘Well what do you expect when you don’t act like a proper man? You let these women fill your head with nonsense. First Beth Anderson and now her niece. I’ll be a proper parent when you’re a proper son.’

‘What did you do to Beth?’ Stoker asks through clenched teeth.

‘She tried to ignore me, Dean. Went walking past me to that big house of hers and she ignored me. She was going to help you go away, leave me.

I told her to turn and face me and when she did, I got so angry I pushed her. Not hard. Just a push. If she’d fallen over where she stood, that would have been the end of it but she stumbled backwards and tried to keep on her feet. Why didn’t she just drop to the ground? She would have been safe if she just dropped to the ground but she kept going, tripping backward. Over the edge.’ Tears spring up in his eyes and I feel the same thing happening in my own eyes. I loved Aunt Beth.

Stoker lashes out. His fist connects with his father’s face and the older man goes down spitting blood from a cut lip. He looks up at his son from the ground and smiles a bloody smile. ‘At least you won’t be going away to college now.’

Stoker stands over him, his fist bleeding and says, ‘I won’t be who you want me to be anymore.’ He looks at me and says, ‘Call Detective Macbeth.’

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Restore

Amy

I hold the books close to my chest as I push open the doors with my butt and walk out into the sunshine. It’s only Spring and there’s a slight chill in the air but anything is better than being stuck inside when the sun is shining. Besides, I need to take some more photos for my course work.

The campus of Manchester School of Art is quiet today with only a few students milling around. I sit on one of the benches and adjust the camera strap that seems to be biting into my shoulder. I check my watch.

Stoker said he’d meet me here at twelve and take me for lunch. He’s typically late.

I guess I should check up on the shop. I find my phone in my bag and hit the button.

‘Promise Books, how may I help you?’

‘Dell, it’s me. How are things going?’

‘Hey, all is good. How’s college life treating ya?’

‘Fine. I’m just waiting for Stoker to meet me for lunch.’

‘Coolio. When are you two going to come down to Promise Cove for a weekend, hmm? Mr Tibbles misses you both.’

‘Mr Tibbles, huh?’

‘Well, OK, I miss you both too. But it’s mainly the cat. He never stops meowing.’

‘We’ll be down soon, I promise.’

‘Great because I need your advice on something.’

‘What?’

‘The Macbeth issue.’

‘There isn’t a Macbeth issue.’

‘I’ve seen the way he looks at me. Believe me, there’s a Macbeth issue.’

‘Dell, what the hell have you done?’

‘Nothing. He’s just been coming in here most days buying up all the crime novels. And I’ve noticed things. Like he always tips me and he looks at me with those intense blue eyes.’

‘You sure you’re not imagining it?’

‘Hey, I’m the most grounded person you know. Anyway, got to go…

you know who is here. Don’t worry about anything; the house and store and cat are fine. We’re all fine.’ She hangs up.

‘Who was that?’

I whirl round to see Stoker standing behind me. ‘Just Dell.’

He snakes an arm around my waist and pulls me to him, kissing me for what seems like an eternity of delicious sensation.

‘Mmm, I can get used to that,’ I say as we break. ‘You have a dab of paint on you just here,’ I thumb away a green oil paint mark on his cheek.

‘Now how about this lunch?’ he asks.

‘Let’s go.’ We walk together arm in arm.

‘How’s Dell?’

‘She’s great. She thinks Detective Macbeth might have taken a shine to her.’

He laughs. ‘That’s Dell alright.’

‘She also said we should go down there one weekend.’

He thinks about that for a moment then nods. ’Sure, why not? We can visit the Cave of the Mermaid.’

‘You trying to drown me, Mister?’

‘Hey, I can’t help it if you can’t swim.

We reach my car and I get into the driver’s seat while he gets in the passenger. I put the car into reverse and back out of my space in the lot.

Every time I drive I remember that it was Stoker who taught me to use a stick shift. And it was him who made me feel for the first time. And it was because of him that I stopped cutting myself.

A month after the conviction of Max Stoke for the murder of Beth Anderson, I threw away all my blades. I don’t need them anymore.

I’m feeling plenty these days.

THE END

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• Title Page
  
• Untitled Document
  
• Chapter One - Promise
  
• Chapter Two - Shift
  
• Chapter Three - Memories
  
• Chapter Four - Call
  
• Chapter Five - Drive
  
• Chapter Six - Gone
  
• Untitled Document
  
• Chapter Seven - Dawn
  
• Chapter Eight - Reveal
  
• Chapter Nine - Offering
  
• Chapter Ten - Reserved
  
• Chapter Eleven - Suspicion
  
• Chapter Twelve - Break
  
• Chapter Thirteen - Torn
  
• Chapter Fourteen - Restore
  
• back matter
  
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