He walked along the galleried landing – fast. He took thestairs two at a time and was relieved to find the reception hall deserted. He headed full pelt for his car.
Jake hadn’t bothered to lock the car, so he got straight in. He struggled to get his bandaged right hand into his coat pocket to retrieve his car keys. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ When he finally got them clear of his pocket, they slipped out of his hand and onto the floor. ‘Dammit!’
Jake was about to reach down when he noticed it; he was still holding the crumpled manila envelopes in his left hand. How had that happened? He tried to recall handing them back to Arnold before he left. He could not. He must have walked out without realising it. Jake closed his fingers around the envelopes and turned his attention on the hospice.
Staring through the windscreen at the building’s entrance, Jake toyed with the idea of just handing the envelopes in to reception, but that seemed callous; after all, the letters seemed to hold a great significance for Martha. He doubted that Arnold would have let him leave with them if he hadn’t thought Jake would return, hopefully with some answers. Well, he was wrong. Jake stuffed the envelopes into his coat pocket. He’d send them back by recorded delivery with his apologies for wasting his time. Cowardly – yes. But it wasn’t until he’d arrived, and seen Martha, that he realised he’d bitten off more than he could chew. All this just brought back painful memories of Eleanor.
Jake leaned forward to retrieve his car keys from where he’d dropped them. They weren’t visible, so Jake reached under the seat until his fingers brushed the key fob. He grabbed the car key and felt something else under the seat.
‘What’s this?’ Holding up the bag he’d found under the seat, Jake had a mental image of Marcus shuffling into the lift at the police station that morning, carrying his belongings along with this small plastic bag. He realised that when Marcus had fallen asleep in the back of the car, his grip must have loosened on thebag, and it must have fallen to the floor and slid forward under the seat.
Jake examined the contents – there were phials of greenish coloured liquid.
What were they? And more to the point, Jake wondered with a pang of concern, when did he need to take them?
Jake opened the plastic bag and took out one of the phials, handling it carefully in case he dropped the small bottle. Jake held it close in an attempt to read the label. The writing on the label was poor, barely legible, but even so, Jake immediately recognised the generic term for methadone.
This was bad. This just confirmed Jake’s suspicions. This wasn’t just Marcus using drugs for recreation – he was in deeper than Jake had thought. Marcus would be climbing up the walls if he woke up and found there was no heroin andno methadone. Jake threw the bag on the passenger seat and started the engine. Forcing himself to manoeuvre slowly past the parked cars, Jake sped down the drive. With a brief glance left, he threw the car in the direction of Aviemore. By the time Jake passed the first Cedar Grove billboard, he had forgotten his intention to stop and take a closer look.
Chapter 31
Parking next to Gayle’s car,Jake got out of the hire car, plastic bag in hand. He raced to the front door. Gayle opened the door as he approached. Jake swiftly put the plastic bag behind his back.
‘Jake. Welcome back.’
He glanced furtively at her as he entered the hallway, hoping she hadn’t been watching him from the kitchen window as he approached, looking like a drug addict who had just scored.
She closed the door behind him.
Jake kept his hand behind his back. He knew it looked odd. ‘Is Marcus up and about yet?’
‘Oh, he went out soon after you left,’ said Gayle over her shoulder as she walked into the kitchen.
‘He did?’ Jake looked down the hallway, confused; Marcus hadn’t so much as fallen asleep as fallen into a coma before he left. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Uh-huh. I gave him a key to the front door before he left, so he can return when he wants. Sorry, I forgot to give you a key too. I’ve been watching out for your return to unlock the front door for you.’
Jake glanced up the stairs and decided to go and see forhimself.
In the bedroom, he discovered that the curtains were still drawn but the bed was empty, and Marcus’s Gucci shoes were gone. Jake shut the bedroom door. Where the hell had he gone without a car?
Jake returned to the kitchen and stood in the doorway, watching Gayle. She stood by the oven, wearing a large pair of oven gloves. She opened the oven door and lifted something out.
Jake’s mouth watered at the thought of home baking.
She turned around. Her massive oven gloves were wrapped around a small, deep, rectangular foil tray. She stopped when she saw Jake standing in the doorway. ‘Come in and join me for dinner.’ She set the foil tray down on the large wooden table in the centre of the room.
Jake eyed the tray. ‘What is it?’
‘Haggis hotpot, and I’ve got plenty more.’
Jake spied several empty rectangular cardboard boxes on the worktop near the oven, bearing pictures of hotpot.
‘Come, sit.’ Gayle pulled out a chair for Jake to join her.
Jake hesitated. He was not a great fan of fast food, and that included pre-packaged frozen meals. But he was hungry, his stomach was complaining, and he had to admit that it did smell surprisingly good for a ready meal.
‘I was waiting for you to return.’
