18 – THE ULTIMATUM

I can't sleep. Lying in bed, I roll over again, twisting the sheets around my body, annoying Spock who would be sleeping just fine if it wasn't for my restlessness. I can't stop thinking about my earlier meeting with Jonathan. The menace in his voice and in his eyes. Where was he going? What business did he have out in the middle of the country? Why would he be so threatening over our crossed paths? Was it simply a case of crossed wires too? Or something a lot worse…

I shiver. The curtain blows into my bedroom and a cool breeze tumbles over my hunched shoulders. The next moment I hear the most welcoming voice.

'Good grief, what a drama!'

'Max!' I exclaim, sitting bolt upright in bed. 'Where have you been?'

Max steps forward out of the darkness, but he's still difficult to see. He's fading in and out of sight like a weak signal. His expression is equally worrying.

'Noa, you have to solve Holly's case.'

'I'm trying, you know I am. But –'

I remember Jonathan's threat about snakes in the grass. Bumping into him has really spooked me, I realise. It really brought home the danger I might be in, and I don't particularly like the idea of doing it again any time soon.

'But what?' says Max, his face anxious.

'Well, it's getting a little dangerous, don't you think?' I drop my eyes, ashamed of how cowardly I sound. 'I mean, I know if I don't find Holly I might never get more messages, but I don't know if it's worth risking my life for. I mean, seriously risking my life.'

Max nods stoically and he clasps his hands. 'If that's what you choose, then I'm afraid that – that'll probably be it for me too.'

I stare at him in horror. Can spirits die? What happened to living 'til eternity? 'What do you mean?' I ask.

'Well, my purpose for being your guide is to ensure all messages are delivered and to make sure you…' He comes over and sits on my bed and reaches for my hand. I can feel his cool grasp seep through my palm.

'I what?' I say, narrowing my eyes in suspicion.

'To make sure you're safe. That's all,' Max says, trying to appear offhand, but then his expression changes, he gives me one of his heavy-lidded looks. 'Yours isn't an easy job.'

Panic materialises as anger. 'But – but if your job is to keep me safe then I could've done with a little help today!' I cry. 'I walked straight into Jonathan!'

Max nods, not rising to my indignation. 'I know. That's what I'm trying to tell you.'

He fades and I'm flooded with panic that he's going, that our last words to each other were in anger. He closes his eyes and returns, stronger than before.

I gulp, as once again I'm hit by the enormity of my situation. 'You're really not going to come visit me if I don't solve Holly's case?'

'It won't be because I don't want to. But I – I won't be able to, no.' Max looks at me sadly, his mouth grim, his turned down eyes no longer laughing and mischievous.

'Never?' I whisper.

He shakes his head. 'Never.'

The thought of life without Max fills me with a fiery horror that swirls through my gut and plunges to my feet. 'But you can't do that!'

Max pats my hand and I swear I can feel it.

'It's not up to me. The wisers –'

'You go tell your wisers that I need you!' A ball swells in the back of my throat and I can feel the wobbliness of tears not far away. 'That if I must find Holly I'm going to need your help. I can't do it on my own!'

Max fades further away. 'I have to go, Noa. My energy is just about. Do your best…' He lets go of my hand and stands up. '…And do what's best for you.'

Max fades away completely. The temperature rises to balmy and I look wildly about. Max is gone. Forever?

'Max! Come back! Max!' I don't care if Dad can hear me, I can't let this be the last time I ever see Max.

Spock barks and I throw myself back amongst my pillows. I glare up at the ceiling. It isn't fair! The wisers – whoever they might be – are blackmailing me, making me do things that will endanger my life. This wasn't part of the deal. Don't I already do enough for them?

I growl in erupting frustration, throw the sheets off my bed and get up.

Minus Spock, I tiptoe to Dad's study. Dad is asleep in his recliner in the living room, the television showing some late night gambling show. I see the empty gin bottle beside Dad and for the first time ever, am glad of its presence. I click closed the study door behind me and feel my way over to the desk. I fumble for the desk lamp switch and turn it on. A glance at the door, listening for Dad. His snores rumble through from the other room, undisturbed.

'Right, Holly Winslow,' I mutter, 'Where are you?'

I flatten out Genie's map on the desk and look at the blotchy black X marking the site of the Ackroyds' Nissen hunt. A shiver rattles through my body. I don't much like the idea of finding a half-decomposed body. Nevertheless, I run my finger along the road from Oakington to Cottenham. I stop about three quarters of the way and mark a spot with one of Dad's pens – an approximate mark of where Jonathan got off the bus. I look up at the corkboard at Farmer Ackerman's case. There are an abundance of evidential photographs of the farm, not just of the burnt out barn, but I can't see any address.

I delve through the desk drawers, looking for more notes on the case, but only find Dad's address book. I flick through and find Farmer Ackerman on the first page of the A's. Kiln Lane Farm, Cottenham. Presumably Kiln Lane Farm must be situated near a Kiln Lane, hopefully. There are places around here that date back to the eleventh century. Road names may change but place names rarely do. I scan Genie's map and my stomach gives a little flip of triumph when I spot Kiln Lane not far from my bus stop biro mark. I make a larger circle encompassing the two X's. As an afterthought I check to see if Dad has the Winslows' address too. He does. They live in Milton, about five miles away from Kiln Lane Farm. Not far for Farmer Ackerman to deliver milk to. Whoever is responsible for Holly's disappearance wouldn't have had far to go to abduct her and stash her body.

I mark the Winslows' approximate address on the map and shove the address book in my pocket.

I stand back and study the four marks on the map – the Ackroyds' Nissen hut, Farmer Ackerman's farm, the bus stop where Jonathan got off, and the Winslows' house. Another shiver runs through me as I recall Genie's words again and it all becomes clear – 'They were digging outside'.

'So, Jonathan,' I murmur, 'you and Dylan decide Holly needs to exit the picture – what did she do? Stumble across a drug dealing business? Threaten to expose you? Jonathan, you're working on the Monday so Dylan, you follow Holly after your Sharp Shooters class, kidnap her, take her to the one place you know she won't be discovered – on your uncle's farm. Then either you or Jonathan, or perhaps both of you, murder her and burn down the barn to cover your crime. You move her body to a nearby deserted Nissen hut and bury her body there…'

I purse my lips as all the clues slot into place. I can't help but wince. 'Right, Holly, let's go get you.'

As I'm about to turn out the light, I pause, my attention caught by one of the images on the corkboard: the smoking charred wreck of the barn. It must have been some fire. My breath catches in my throat and I fumble for my phone. I tap through to my emails and wait impatiently for them to load. I open up the picture I bought at Sharp Shooters – 'Night Blaze'. I look, wide-eyed from my phone to the corkboard and back again.

'But…' I don't understand.

I furiously try to work out in my head when Holly went missing to when the photo was taken to the time of the blaze. I'd presumed before that Holly had taken the photo on the Sunday night at the latest and submitted it on the Monday, the day she'd gone missing. But the fire at Farmer Ackerman's only happened on the Wednesday!

'Which means…' My mouth falls open as a new possibility enters my head. 'Oh my God.'

I switch off the light and make for the door as quickly as I dare. I'm going to need my hiking boots for this mission.

Copyright © H.R. Aidan, 2016