opened his mouth to reply, but she was already gone, and a moment later he heard her talking to the children. Her tone had switched in an instant, and now she sounded happy and playful.
Spotting Jane's bag on the counter, Jack reached over, figuring that he could take a quick look at her phone. At the last moment, however, he held back, telling himself that he couldn't go that far. Not yet, anyway.
***
“No, Bob,” Tom Lanegan said, leaning back in his chair as he used the rubber-end of a pencil to clean out his ears. “Don't worry about it. She won't come again, and if she does, I'll do the same as last time. It's cool and -”
Hearing a beep on his phone, he checked the screen.
“Gotta go, Bob,” he continued. “Incoming.”
He tapped the screen, and immediately moved the phone away from his ear as he heard a burst of static.
“Jesus fucking Christ, man,” he said once the static was over, “you need to fix your communication system. I can't make out a goddamn word you ever say.”
He waited, hearing nothing but another burst of static.
“I'm assuming this is about the new girl,” he continued. “I have no complaints. If there's something you wanna talk about in more detail, you'll have to go direct to Mr. Crutchlow.”
Sighing, he listened to another howling swarm of static from the phone. Although no words could be made out, the tone of the static seemed more intense this time, and a little urgent.
“You're supposed to be running a professional set-up over there,” Tom continued. “Get this damn thing fixed, okay? And I haven't heard a word you've said, so if it's something important, text me or send an email.”
Muttering a few more expletives, he cut the call and set his phone down, only for a text message to arrive a moment later. Grabbing the phone again, he sighed as he saw that, sure enough, the message was from Simon. Opening it up, he found that it contained nothing but a seemingly random series of symbols, as if the original text had somehow become distorted.
“Bloody idiot,” he sighed, sliding the phone across his desk and then leaning back further so he could concentrate on cleaning his ears.
***
“The cameras haven't worked in about six years,” Greg muttered, sitting on a stool at the bar next to Jack. “Turns out, half the cameras in this whole goddamn town are just empty boxes. We'll be lucky if anything was caught at all.”
“So what did Alex say to you?” Jack asked, trying to sound casual even though he was meticulously digging for dirt. “Do you know where they're focusing the investigation right now?”
“Did you talk to him?”
“Um... Kind of. A little. He seemed very busy, though, so I don't think he managed to tell me everything he wanted to tell me. Jane's the same, they're running around like crazy.”
“Alex still thinks it's someone who was just drifting through,” Greg replied, taking a sip of beer. “I don't know about that, man. I can't shake the feeling that...” He paused, before glancing at the window and seeing the darkness outside. “Do you ever feel like there's something in this town? Something that's kinda lurking out there, and most of us don't see it, but it's, like, waiting and...” Another pause. “Damn it, I don't even know what I'm trying to say. Secrets, I guess. Shadows in the shadows.”
“I think everyone feels like this about the place where they live,” Jack told him. “There's nothing special about Bowley.”
“You really don't think so?”
“I've been running the paper for the past five years,” he replied, “and my family's lived here since before I was born. I'm pretty sure I'd know if there was anything to worry about. This is just a normal, clean-living town with maybe one or two slightly odd things, but nothing worth mentioning.” He took a sip of beer. “I honestly can't think of a single person who'd either want to kill Mel, or who'd be capable of doing it.”
“So you don't buy into the serial
Spotting Jane's bag on the counter, Jack reached over, figuring that he could take a quick look at her phone. At the last moment, however, he held back, telling himself that he couldn't go that far. Not yet, anyway.
***
“No, Bob,” Tom Lanegan said, leaning back in his chair as he used the rubber-end of a pencil to clean out his ears. “Don't worry about it. She won't come again, and if she does, I'll do the same as last time. It's cool and -”
Hearing a beep on his phone, he checked the screen.
“Gotta go, Bob,” he continued. “Incoming.”
He tapped the screen, and immediately moved the phone away from his ear as he heard a burst of static.
“Jesus fucking Christ, man,” he said once the static was over, “you need to fix your communication system. I can't make out a goddamn word you ever say.”
He waited, hearing nothing but another burst of static.
“I'm assuming this is about the new girl,” he continued. “I have no complaints. If there's something you wanna talk about in more detail, you'll have to go direct to Mr. Crutchlow.”
Sighing, he listened to another howling swarm of static from the phone. Although no words could be made out, the tone of the static seemed more intense this time, and a little urgent.
“You're supposed to be running a professional set-up over there,” Tom continued. “Get this damn thing fixed, okay? And I haven't heard a word you've said, so if it's something important, text me or send an email.”
Muttering a few more expletives, he cut the call and set his phone down, only for a text message to arrive a moment later. Grabbing the phone again, he sighed as he saw that, sure enough, the message was from Simon. Opening it up, he found that it contained nothing but a seemingly random series of symbols, as if the original text had somehow become distorted.
“Bloody idiot,” he sighed, sliding the phone across his desk and then leaning back further so he could concentrate on cleaning his ears.
***
“The cameras haven't worked in about six years,” Greg muttered, sitting on a stool at the bar next to Jack. “Turns out, half the cameras in this whole goddamn town are just empty boxes. We'll be lucky if anything was caught at all.”
“So what did Alex say to you?” Jack asked, trying to sound casual even though he was meticulously digging for dirt. “Do you know where they're focusing the investigation right now?”
“Did you talk to him?”
“Um... Kind of. A little. He seemed very busy, though, so I don't think he managed to tell me everything he wanted to tell me. Jane's the same, they're running around like crazy.”
“Alex still thinks it's someone who was just drifting through,” Greg replied, taking a sip of beer. “I don't know about that, man. I can't shake the feeling that...” He paused, before glancing at the window and seeing the darkness outside. “Do you ever feel like there's something in this town? Something that's kinda lurking out there, and most of us don't see it, but it's, like, waiting and...” Another pause. “Damn it, I don't even know what I'm trying to say. Secrets, I guess. Shadows in the shadows.”
“I think everyone feels like this about the place where they live,” Jack told him. “There's nothing special about Bowley.”
“You really don't think so?”
“I've been running the paper for the past five years,” he replied, “and my family's lived here since before I was born. I'm pretty sure I'd know if there was anything to worry about. This is just a normal, clean-living town with maybe one or two slightly odd things, but nothing worth mentioning.” He took a sip of beer. “I honestly can't think of a single person who'd either want to kill Mel, or who'd be capable of doing it.”
“So you don't buy into the serial
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