The Third Hunter: A bloody folklore horror (Hanging Hill Lane Book 2) by Philip Alexander Baker

Author:Philip Alexander Baker [Baker, Philip Alexander]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-01-25T00:00:00+00:00

The Blue Horizon Bar and Venue car park was empty except for a few cars, but there was movement inside. Police Constables Joanne Bach and Beverly Trevithick simultaneously closed their car doors, donned their hats, and approached the door of the club, the crunch of gravel underfoot poking up above the sound of the sea. Bach stepped inside first, noticing the smell of stale beer was partly masked by a distinctive smell, something quite floral and pretty mixed with the salt and seaweed of a sea breeze.

A fruit machine flashed away by the wall, and a middle-aged man in a sleeveless vest sat alone at a table, the only drinker in the whole bar. He did a quick double take at the arriving policewomen, sipped his pint of ale, leaving a foam moustache, and got back to his newspaper. The front page’s picture was William Head, although the top bar had a different story. A photo of Penelope Pengilly with a caption that simply read ‘Jokers’.

The police officers walked to the bar just as a woman arrived from the other side of the tall drink fridges. She was around forty years old with a friendly face that wasn’t fazed at all by the arrival of two law enforcers.

‘Hi,’ she said in a voice that Joanne Bach found noticeably pleasing. ‘Can I help?’

‘I hope so,’ said Constable Trevithick. ‘Just a few questions, if that’s okay?’

‘One second.’ She thumbed her phone for a few seconds and looked back to the police officers. ‘Just messaging the partner to come down.’

‘No problem,’ said Joanne Bach.

‘We had a call already, mind. The cameras don’t show anything beyond the bar and the car park.’

‘Cameras?’ asked Joanne Bach.

‘The boat. The murders. Burger and that lot. We were asked if our cameras saw anything but we’re too far away really. We sent the files but there wasn’t anything useful on them.’

Another woman arrived behind the bar. She was also in her forties with a charismatic smile. ‘Hi,’ she said. ‘I’m Nina. How can I help?’

‘I’m Heidi, by the way,’ said the first woman. ‘We’re partners here at the bar.’

‘We’re actually looking for an agency,’ said Joanne Bach. ‘Blue Horizon?’

‘Oh,’ said Nina with a smile. ‘That’s us too. We already spoke to someone about that though. One of the girls on the boat matched the description of one of our clients but it wasn’t her.’

‘We’re here about someone called Olivia Merrigan,’ said Joanne Bach, producing a photograph and showing the women who leaned across the bar for a closer look. ‘Do you know her?’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Heidi.

‘No,’ said Nina. ‘She’s not one of ours, but she’s kind of familiar.’

‘You’ve not met?’ asked Trevithick.

‘Ah, I know where I’ve seen her,’ said Nina. ‘On the news. That’s the missing woman, right?’

‘Ah yes, I think that’s her,’ said Heidi.

‘But you haven’t seen her? Never met her?’ asked Trevithick.

‘Not to my knowledge,’ came Heidi’s smooth and pleasing voice.

‘Okay,’ croaked Trevithick. ‘You invited her for an audition or a trial for your agency last Thursday.

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