dead flesh by tim o'rourke

Author:tim o'rourke
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: young adult, vampires, diaries, werewolf, horror, potter, vampire, romance, fantasy, werewolves, tim orourke, kiera hudson, General Fiction
ISBN: 9781478375951
Publisher: Createspace
Published: 2012-03-31T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Four

Kiera

The store where Emily Clarke had supposedly used her credit card to buy chocolate, amongst other items, was on a road which lay about two miles north of Wood Hill. We didn’t go straight to the counter and speak with the staff. Instead, Potter and I wandered around the store and looked to see what CCTV they had, if any. The only camera I could see was positioned behind the counter and looked out into the store and down at the cash registers. I looked at Potter, and we didn’t have to speak to one another to know that if Emily had been in the store the previous morning, she would be on camera.

I threw some items into a basket, junk food mainly, and went to the cash register with it. The spotty youth who was working began to process my groceries. Once he had placed everything into a bag, Potter asked for a pack of cigarettes.

The guy working the cash register threw them into the bag and said, “That will be thirteen pounds twenty, mister.”

Potter rummaged through his jeans pockets and pulled out a roll of twenties. At the same time I took my warrant card from my jacket pocket, opened it, and realised that I hadn’t any money. I looked at the cash in Potter’s fist. My savings? I wondered and looked at him. Potter shrugged his shoulders at me with a guilty grin.

I looked at the spotty youth behind the counter and I could see that he was eyeing my badge “Sorry, but my boss says I can’t give discounts to the law anymore – not since one of you guys issued him that ticket for running a red.”

“What?” I asked surprised. “I don’t expect any discount.”

“You can’t be from around here, then,” he said back.

“No, we’re not,” Potter cut in.

What kinda police department are they running down here? I wondered. Potter handed over the money and looking at the CCTV camera above his head, he looked back at the clerk and asked, “is there any chance we could take a look at the CCTV footage for yesterday?”

“No, you can’t,” he said.

“How come?” I asked him.

“Doesn’t work. It’s been broken for months,” The clerk explained. “The boss says it costs too much to get fixed. He’ll be screwed if we ever have a robbery, insurance company will never pay out.”

“Do you have any other cameras in store?” I asked.

“Nope, just that broken one. Why you want to know?” he asked, looking at me, then at Potter.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, picking up the groceries and leaving the store.

I threw the bag onto the backseat of the car and slammed the door shut in frustration. Potter popped one of the cigarettes between his lips, lit it, and inhaled deeply.

“When are we going to get a half-decent break?” I asked him.

Potter looked at me and blew a lungful of smoke into the air.

“We’re running around in circles,” I said, more to myself than him.

“Something will turn up,” he said, leaning against the side of the car and enjoying his smoke.

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