Mystery Fiction Relay-Part Seven: Rocks and Hard Places

This is the seventh installment of the Fiction Mystery Relay hosted by May More at ifsexmatters.co.uk.

To read each chapter in order, which is recommended, click here.

For the installment previous to this one, added by thelifeofelliottandallthatjizz.com , click here.

Synopsis of the story so far…

Location: Ripley, UK (the specific Ripley is never disclosed)

Ellie and Susie were childhood best friends aged 11 and 12, in the year 1995. On the last day that Ellie saw Susie alive, they had met at their favorite spot where Ellie had taken pictures with a disposable camera. Susie’s body is found the following day, strangled, and sexually assaulted; the killer is never found. The film sat undeveloped for 11 years.
Ellie became engaged to Steve Marchant at the age of 22. Going through old keepsakes, she finds the film and has it developed. Examining the photos, she sees Steve standing in the background, somewhat camouflaged. He appears to be spying on them. Confused, she becomes withdrawn from Steve and eventually leaves stating she is staying with her friend Carla.
Detective Walker is preparing to retire, but this unsolved case has been bothering him. He goes through the files once more and discovers something he missed 11 years prior. There appears to have been a second, smaller attacker. He calls Susie’s Father, Dave, who does not answer. Detective Walker leaves a message.
Dave has had a difficult time recovering from the grief that struck him following Susie’s death. He divorced Susie’s mother, Sonia, who appears had been cheating on him for several years and moves away. Dave receives a phone call from a number in Ripley. Upon seeing the number, he appears ashen.
Meanwhile, Steve who is an estate agent meets a man named Mr. Yarnold at an apartment, hoping for a large commission. Hearing footsteps behind him he turns and sees a woman wearing a red dress and heels, but just before he can make out who it is Steve recalls a suppressed memory. On the day Susie died Steve ran into Ellie’s brother Pete who he accompanied to a game. Pete left the game 15 minutes before Steve, leaving him to walk home alone. Steve comes across Susie and Ellie in the woods and overhears Susie talking about how she had a secret date. He notices Susie looks similar to a woman in an old photo he found at his Dad’s house. Once Ellie runs off, Steve sees Susie waiting by herself and wanted to approach but left after hearing a male voice.
Now Ellie is standing above Steve, enraged. She throws the picture from 11 years before at him and tells Mr. Yarnold to kill him. Steve denies killing Susie. Walking out the door she hears gunfire but doesn’t turn around.
A crying Ellie arrives at the local pub where she tells Dave that Steve has been killed. Dave hopes that this allows Susie to rest.

Rocks and Hard Places

♫ For he’s a jolly good fellow,

 for he’s a jolly good fellow,

 for he’s a jolly good fellooowwwww,

 which nobody can deny! ♫

Cheers and applause erupt at this. Detective Walker smiles as his co-workers slap him on the back. He wishes he felt their excitement. Retirement sounds nice but the insomnia is worse than ever. He constantly feels like he is in a daze. This case literally consumes his waking hours and his nights. He’s afraid that without solving it, more free time is the last thing he needs.

Looking across the pub, he watches as a woman in a red dress leaves a table. She has been sitting with an older man, one old enough to be her father. Looking closer, he realizes it’s Dave, Susie’s father. Just the man he had wanted to talk to.

He excuses himself from the crowd that has gathered to congratulate him and makes his way across the room. Dave’s eyebrows raise as he approaches, his posture changing momentarily before it settles to nonchalance once more.

“Dave, I’m Detective Walker, I left you a message. I thought you lived up North now. What a coincidence, running into you here. Do you have a moment?”

Straightening, Dave reaches out his hand to shake the Detectives. “Oh, yes. Sorry, Detective. It slipped my mind. We’re both here now. What can I do for you?” He hopes the Detective won’t ask more about why he is in Ripley. He doesn’t have a reason to be in town and he can’t answer with “conspiracy to commit murder.”

Pulling out the chair across from Dave, Detective Walker sits. “Well, I’m about to retire,” he motions to the boisterous crowd across the way, “and Susie’s case is the one that I could never solve. It’s been a bit of a project for me and so…” He sighs before resuming the story. “I was looking through the old files and noticed something I hadn’t before. The bruises on Susie’s wrists didn’t fit at the time, but looking at the information again, it looks like there may have been two attackers. One large, larger than Susie, and one smaller than the first. I was wondering if I could run a few things by you?”

Dave blanches at this. If Detective Walker notices, he doesn’t say anything, but Dave can feel the panic crawling up his spine. There were two of them. Even if Steve was one, there’s still another. Ellie didn’t mention any of this. She said she had photographic evidence, with Steve as the killer. Why did he so easily believe her and get himself into this mess? At least it was Ellie that set everything up and he can deny it if Steve’s murder points to him. What a shitshow.

“Sure, Detective,” Dave says, trying to appear calmer than he feels. He swallows a mouthful of ale too fast, the bubbles fizzing inside his nose, causing him to cough.

“Maybe you can come down to the station, let’s say tomorrow? I can show you the file and we can discuss where we want to go from there.”

Dave sighs. Knowing he has no other choice, he agrees to meet the Detective the following day. Leaving some money on the table, he bids Detective Walker farewell, and makes his way to the door.

Detective Walker watches Dave depart having noticed Dave’s change in demeanor, as well as his nervousness when he stated there were two attackers. Thinking it was just the stirring up of old ghosts, he puts his discernment aside for the time being and heads back to his party.

***

A silver sedan pulls up across from the Marchant residence. Inside it sits a tall man, with dark hair and large hands. He’s been writing about this case for years, keeping Susie’s death alive, his own memories alive. This was going to be his best article yet, about the impact on families and loved one’s when people were killed so violently. A good disguise if he says so himself. Being a newspaper reporter has served him well, many times.

He sits and watches the house, looking for signs of life. He wants to start the article with Ellie. Her parents had never let him interview her in the past, wanting to keep the issue closed for her. Like that would ever work. Her life had changed since that fateful day, the day Susie’s life was snuffed out, he was sure of it. She was supposed to be there too, but Susie had sent her away. The Greedy bitch had wanted them all to herself. Maybe it’s better this way. Ellie grew up nicely, he thinks with a smile.

He shivers as he recalls the red running down Susie’s face, her tiny erect nipples exposed to the cool air. He rubs his thumb across the cotton fabric of her bra and panties. Hers was his first kill, his most revered. He only wishes he hadn’t had to share it. The material is still stained from all those years ago, the red having since turned to brown. He presses the delicate pieces to his nose, inhaling Susie’s scent, like he has so many times before.

***

Ellie is walking frantically through the house, placing items back where they belong. The first person the police will question is her, and she must make it look like she hadn’t left Steve. That everything was fine. She is appalled that she had been sleeping with Susie’s killer all these years. She slept with Susie’s killer’s killer too. What does that say about her, she wonders as she places her clothes back in the drawers.

She knows it won’t bring Susie back, but she’s happy she was able to help and put Susie’s death to rest. Maybe she can move on too. Without Steve. The thought brings a pang of heartache, but she pushes it away, reminding herself it’s for the best. He is a murderer after all. She was glad Dave was able to help her with the issue, supplying the funds in cash and the hitman.

Searching for the picture of Steve at the crime scene, Ellie hears a knock as she’s riffling through her handbag. Smoothing out her dress, she shakes out her trembling hands, takes a deep breath, and opens the door. On the other side, she finds a man whose name she can’t remember, but he used to hang out with her brother Pete.

“Oh, hi. Umm. Can I help you?”

“Hi. I’m Ken Blake. I played football with your brother Pete years ago. I’m a reporter and was wondering if I could ask you a few questions. It has been 10 years since the case on Susie’s death was suspended and I am doing an article on how crimes like these affect family and friend’s long term. Do you have a minute to talk?”

Ellie remembers Ken now, although she doesn’t know much about him. He was a year older than Pete but spent a lot of time with him. He was always taller than Pete too and used to comment about Pete’s short stature quite often. They were almost inseparable the year before Pete left to travel abroad.

“I’m sorry Ken. I’m expecting my fiancée home at any moment, and as you can see, we have a date.” She gestures to the red dress and heels; thankful she hadn’t changed. “If you give me your card, I’ll give you a call when I have time.”

Ken takes a step toward Ellie, his eyes fixated on her breasts spilling over the hem of the low-cut dress. His tongue comes out to wet his lips, like a serpent tasting the air. Ellie steps back, suddenly cautious. The tension between the two amps up. She can feel it, like a corporeal yet invisible barrier, pressing on her, making her senses heighten. Kens face changes, his eyes darkening as he takes another step. His hand comes up and reaches for her.

Ellie turns to run, her heels sliding on the tiled floor. She rushes into the kitchen, her hand reaching out as she turns the knob on the rear door. She flings the door open, still running as she contemplates her escape. Her legs cross the threshold and she’s celebrating her victory when she collides with a solid form.

Staggering back, she sees a man, blood drying and caked to the side of his face, down the front of his shirt. A lot of blood. His scalp has a section torn through; the skin peeled back to expose his skull. In his hand is the Sig Sauer 300 Mr. Yarnold had used earlier that day. His face is lined with a look so dark and so ominous that she gasps, one hand coming up to cover her mouth.

“Steve!”

The next instalment of this mystery project was completed by @Hislordship of Hislordshipuk.com, and can be found here.

For more Fiction of this sort, see A Twisted Fate.