Darkside_ A Novel - Belinda Bauer [112]
'Bastard,' said Jonas quietly but with feeling. He was freezing cold, it had started to snow again, and now he'd have to fill out forms explaining how the Land Rover got damaged, when all he wanted was to get home, have a steaming hot bath and share supper with Lu.
As he started down through the churned snow where the Toyota had been, Jonas noticed what he assumed were the driver's footprints leading not down the hill to the Red Lion, but up the lane towards Rose Cottage.
He stopped and shone his torch into the prints.
The new snow was starting to soften them a little, but Jonas could still see the tread pattern.
Herringbone.
Jonas switched off the torch and ran up the hill.
The footprints led straight to his front door.
He skidded on the path despite the grit, and skidded again in the porch, sending several loud logs tumbling off the neat pile.
Shit.
Any attempt at stealth ruined, Jonas burst through the front door.
'Lucy!'
No answer.
Please be OK. Please, please, please.
He opened the door into the front room.
Lucy was on the couch under the friendly glow of the fire, her eyes closed and her head nestled on the tasselled cushion.
Jonas released a huge breath he didn't know he'd been holding. She was safe. She was fine. The driver had probably asked to use the phone, that was all--
The back door closed quietly.
Jonas's heart pumped a shot of pure ice into his system. He could even feel it in his teeth.
He grabbed the poker from beside the fire and rushed into the kitchen.
Empty.
Jonas crossed the room in three strides and yanked open the back door. By the light spilling out of the kitchen it was easy to make out the herringbone treads.
'Jonas?'
Jonas ignored Lucy and ran into the night once more. As soon as he was beyond the reach of the kitchen light, he lost the tracks, but he ran anyway, past the Beetle domed with snow, out into the road and down the hill.
In the jerking beam of the torch, he saw the indistinct shape of the man running for his life through the fast-falling snow. He was fast, but Jonas was gaining.
And then he wasn't.
He lost his footing and went down heavily, the torch flying out of his hand. He skidded again getting up and lurched sideways. It was crucial. Even as he rose, Jonas heard the car door slam. He ran blindly towards the sound as if through a snowy waterfall, but the super-reliable Japanese engine caught first time and revved furiously as the wheels spun and then caught. The lights were not switched on; Jonas never even saw the car go.
He stood panting at the foot of the hill. He hadn't even taken down the car's number earlier. Basic stuff. Basic.
He got into the Land Rover and rumbled back up the hill to home.
He came through the still-open back door.
'Jonas?' Lucy called from the other room, sounding scared.
'It's OK, Lu,' he called and locked the door behind him. Now he had stopped reacting and started thinking, the shock of disaster averted hit him like a wall, and he had to put his hand on the counter and double over to get his breath.
The killer had been here.
Right here in Rose Cottage.
While Lucy slept unaware on the couch, the killer had come into their home.
Had he seen her?
Had he already stood over his victim in life and mused on how best to make her dead?
Had he touched her hair and known that this one was next?
He shivered and realized he was shaking uncontrollably.
He couldn't fall apart on her now.
'Jonas?'
He couldn't tell her; it would scare the hell out of her. She must never know how badly he'd fucked up or how close she had come to being killed. He would stop going out at night. Hell, he would stop going out during the days if he possibly could! How could he have been so stupid? How could he have gone out to protect the village and left Lucy to protect herself? His most precious thing in the whole wide world! Was he fucking crazy?
Jonas suddenly thought