She Lies Hidden_a spell-binding psychological suspense thriller by C. M. Stephenson

Author:C. M. Stephenson [Stephenson, C. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloodhound Books
Published: 2018-09-23T16:00:00+00:00

36

I need caffeine.

He limps into Sophie’s Café, rubbing the base of his spine. It’s newly renovated, or so it says in the window. Unplastered walls painted white, heavy oak tables on iron legs, chairs right out of a schoolroom, flooring torn up from a long-abandoned factory, stripped and cleaned. He orders a double shot cappuccino from the counter. Fakes an apologetic face, as he hands the teenage girl a fifty-pound note. She gives him a withering look, runs some sort of pen over it before putting it in the till. Without a flicker of a smile, she counts his change into the palm of his hand.

The place is half full, morning commuters on flexitime. He spots a vacant table by the window, ambles toward it, slips off his backpack, pulls out the seat. Winces as the base of the seat nudges at his bruised coccyx.

He checks his watch; it’s just gone quarter to ten. He’d gone into Norwich to get money from the bank. The thousand pounds he’s withdrawn from his account lays thick in the inside pocket of his coat. All in fifties. All new. He’d not been brave enough to ask for used notes. Then he’d dropped into the local computer supplies shop, a Chinese boy with a large waist and splayed feet wandered out from the back, the sides of his head shaved, a long black lock of hair hanging over his right eye. Another unsmiling teenager, the high street seemed to be full of them. He’d proved surprisingly helpful, recommended something called a dongle, preloaded. Told him he’d be able to use it wherever there was an internet signal.

He pulls his MacBook out of his backpack, places it on the table, slips the dongle into the USB port, logs on. Without comment, the girl places his cappuccino on the table beside it. He waits for the northwest news service to load.

Missing Woman Found. Woman? He almost skims over it.

A reliable source stated that a woman, missing since 1973 had been discovered in a local hospital. The victim of a hit and run accident, she was now recovering in intensive care. Could it be her? No, it couldn’t be her, how could it be? He searches for a name, there isn’t one.

Surely there should be one? Why hadn’t they given a name?

His stomach cramps. The chair legs make a high-pitched scraping noise as he shoves himself back from the table. His eyes scan the room in a panic. The teenage girl points to the door behind the counter, the engaged sign on red. He hunches over in his seat, counts the seconds down one by one. His sore back now the least of his worries. Jimmy Fairfax is now top of the list, if he talks, they’ll both be screwed. Through the door, he hears the loud hum of the hand dryer, a teenage girl with braided hair slinks out. He manages to his backside on the toilet just as his bowels loose.

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