The Last Thing She Remembers by J. S. Monroe

Author:J. S. Monroe
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2019-03-25T18:05:36+00:00

CHAPTER 56

Laura walks along the towpath, a heron lifting forlornly from the water in front of her to settle farther down the canal. She was feeling fine about returning to the village, happy to give a statement to the police and catch up with Susie, who’s not been returning her calls, but she lost her nerve one station before the final stop. The police appeal for information about Jemma Huish has given her a certain grim satisfaction, making her own paranoia that first night seem less irrational, but it’s been tempered by Tony’s worrying behavior, how protective of Jemma he has become. Does Tony has something to do with her disappearance?

Her phone rings. It’s Luke, who had texted earlier to say that he would come out to find her on the towpath.

“Where are you now?” he asks.

“Near the Blue Pool,” she says. It’s somewhere she hopes to visit often one day. A mile out of the village, it’s an old millpond where the local kids come to swim and play, swinging off a rope from a high branch and launching themselves into water. One day.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he says. “Have you tried Tony again?”

“He won’t pick up.” After failing to speak to him, she’d sent a text asking to meet but he hadn’t replied.

She hangs up and walks on toward the Blue Pool, which she can see up ahead. It’s a hazy summer’s day, but the canal is not busy except for a couple of fishermen, seated far apart from each other on the opposite bank. There’s a place along here where she and Tony first came when they moved into the village. Set back from the towpath, it’s meant to be the site of a holy well, although the water has long since dried up. A wishing tree marks the spot, covered in brightly colored ribbons and trinkets with messages written by people with hopes and dreams. Tony and Laura wished for a child and tied their card to a high branch, away from prying eyes. She wants to see if it’s still there, maybe write another one.

She turns off the towpath and heads down through the undergrowth toward the well, following a faint track. Most of the wishes are made in spring, when there’s a steady stream of people coming down here. As she draws near, she thinks she hears something up ahead: a woman starting to talk. Her voice is strained, desperate. She’s never heard such anguish before. Laura walks closer, treading quietly, holding her breath.

“I really need to speak to the police,” the voice says.

Laura’s first instinct is to turn and run, but she’s transfixed by the person’s pleading tone.

“I’m scared what I might do, you know?” the voice continues. “Please... It was hearing my name on the radio that stirred it all up. Why are they suddenly looking for me?” Laura can hardly bring herself to move. “I need help here. I’ve tried everything, but nothing’s working. I’m telling you, I need fucking help.

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