Hostile Relations by Helen Treharne

Author:Helen Treharne
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: supernatural, vampires, horror, thrillers, murder, cardiff, wales, books about wales, books about vampires, set in cardiff, like sookie stackhouse, like Buffy, vampire, urban fantasy, vampire slayers, paranormal thriller, supernatural thrillers, welsh detectives, welsh valleys, homeless murders, family secrets, welsh authors, welsh writers, helen treharne, sophie morgan, vampire series
Publisher: Helen Treharne
Published: 2016-09-24T00:00:00+00:00

12

I listened to the messages on my voicemail while I clunked and clicked the seat belt: one from Tracy, “for a chat” and to see how I was doing, and another from Kurt. He’d some news for me. I couldn’t tell if he was excited or sombre; the accent didn’t always help and my ear had not quite adjusted to it yet. He said that he would be home around six o’clock, and if I could pop in to see him, he’d tell me all then. If not, he’d call me again later and we could arrange to meet another time.

It was almost three, and while that gave me time to drive back to Bethesda, and then back to Cardiff to meet with Kurt, it seemed pointless to do the round trip. If there was news for me, I didn’t want to wait; I’d also already arranged to meet Marc later in the evening. I was not going to spend the rest of my day driving up and down the motorway.

Perhaps Marc was right. Were vampires on the prowl? Was that what Kurt had to tell me? Mmm, it is interesting that these bodies start turning up as soon as I move back and Kasper moves down here? I wonder exactly how many people have gone missing? Could there be some truth in what Marc has to say? A pain formed in my temples. Reverting to form, I decided to take control by going into research mode. That would fill a couple of hours.

Twenty minutes queuing for a space at the on-ramp of the nearest multi-storey car park, another ten buying an overpriced latte from a stand outside John Lewis, and a quick trip to a public toilet later, I was seated in Central Library, rifling through the newspaper archives.

On the walk over from the car, I’d run through a montage in my mind of me rifling through microfiche, studiously poring over newspaper clippings. I soon learned that in the digital era research could as easily be done at home as in the library; everything was online, and I was pretty certain I could have found similar results by sitting at my laptop on the kitchen table.

“If you want a hard copy of that one, we do keep local newspapers from the last couple of years.”

I spun around in my chair to find a skinny guy wearing a lanyard and a tee shirt with Kermit the Frog on it, looking at my screen. He pointed to a help desk. “If you need anything, come grab me; I’ll find it for you. Or if it’s from the last month, you’ll find copies of the local papers on the racks over there.” He pointed in the general direction of the far corner, before wheeling his trolley of books into a distant stack.

The Western Mail didn’t offer much information, little more than I’d seen on the news in the past week. But then again that was not surprising—homeless people don’t attract much column space! I’m sure hundreds must go missing a year.

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