Page 1 of Gone in the Night (Detective Morgan Brookes #16)
ONE
Lydia Williams could not finish work soon enough.
Her eyes kept glancing at the tiny clock in the right-hand corner of her computer screen.
Every minute was taking forever, and if the office hadn’t been full of her coworkers, she would have grabbed her backpack and strode out thirty minutes ago, as if she’d already been given permission to finish early.
Her cheeks flushed red at the indignity of a thirty-nine-year-old woman having to ask permission to do anything.
This job was the worst she’d ever had. Justin, her ‘boss’ (she always said his job title with inverted commas), was an idiot; an arrogant, slimy, brown-nosing idiot who made her skin crawl just looking at his smarmy face through the huge glass windows of his office.
How many times a day had she fantasised about pushing him through those windows?
Far too many to be healthy, that was for sure.
She glanced at the clock again.
Three minutes, that was all she had to wait.
You can do this, three minutes and you can go home, grab Barney and get out of here.
Two minutes, she began to tidy her desk.
One minute, she felt her shoulders relax for the first time in hours; it was almost freedom, she could taste the fresh air.
‘Lydia.’
His voice made her shoulders stiffen, and she tried to not ball up her fists.
Unclenching her fingers, she turned to see Justin leaning against the doorway of his office.
The top three buttons on his shirt unfastened, his tie loosened, his dark hair, which was thinning on top, looked as if he’d stuck his finger into an electrical socket. ‘Have you got a minute?’
She looked at the clock and watched it hit four. No, I haven’t. I’m out of work’s time now and on my own, so leave me alone.
‘Yes.’
As she stood up, the voice inside her head swore loudly at her for not telling him to sod off.
Everyone around her was scrambling to grab coats, backpacks, lunch bags and get the hell out of this too small office before he could say any of their names.
But he wouldn’t, he never did. It had been the same for the last four Fridays.
She inhaled deeply through her nose before picking up her bag and throwing her jacket across her arm.
She headed into his office that smelled of coffee and stale perspiration.
‘I know it’s Friday and you’re keen to get away, so I’m sorry to keep you.’
Lydia stared into his eyes; he wasn’t sorry at all. The way his top lip curled up at the sides told her he was enjoying this.
‘What do you want, Justin? I need to get home.’
‘Oh, do you have pressing plans?’
‘Yes, I do.’ She didn’t embellish on them or tell him that the most important thing in her life was her dog, Barney. She didn’t want him to know anything about her personal life outside of work.
‘Are they exciting?’
‘What do you want?’ She’d had enough now; her freedom was so close she could almost reach out and touch it.
‘I wondered if we could discuss the Ryerson account over a drink or two, maybe grab a bite to eat. All on company expenses, of course.’
He was too tight to even pay for after-work drinks for her.
‘I can’t, sorry, I’m sure we can discuss it on Monday.’
A look of anger flashed across his face, and his cheeks burned a little redder than they already were.
‘What is so important that you’d decline my invitation for drinks and supper?
You’ve turned me down the last three Fridays in a row.
It’s not as if you have any better offers.
You’re single, you live with a dog and you’re almost forty, with no partner or kids, no real ambitions.
I would have thought you’d jump at the chance for a date with me. ’
She stared at him, was he really that oblivious to how obnoxious he was and how much of a creep?
Plus, how did he know all this stuff about her?
She never told him, she hardly spoke to anyone in this office – they were all kids except for Karen.
He must have been looking through her Instagram, she realised, which infuriated her because that was the only social media platform she was active on.
She used it to keep a record of what she’d been doing.
Those photos were precious memories that one day she could look back on.
She knew she was going to regret this, yet somehow, she felt no qualms about doing it.
Taking a deep breath, a feeling of peace washed over her – this was long overdue.
‘And you’re a married man, who perpetually smells of stale body odour, are about as attractive as my ninety-year-old neighbour and have as much charm as a corpse; my dog’s breath smells better than you do.
I might be almost forty, but I have a great life, and you know what, Justin, it’s just improved way beyond anything I could comprehend because I quit.
You can take the Ryerson account and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine, and whilst you’re at it don’t even think about not paying me this month, because I’m friends with your wife on Facebook. ’
She heard his sharp intake of breath and turned away before he could see the smile on her face.
She would rather beg on street corners than have to spend another minute working for him.
As she hoisted her backpack onto her shoulder and walked out of the door, she muttered, ‘What an arsehole.’ She wasn’t friends with his wife because she didn’t have a Facebook account, but he wasn’t to know that.
Smiling to herself, Lydia didn’t take the lift in case he ran down the stairs and was waiting at the bottom for her.
She wasn’t sure how Justin would take this kind of rejection, but she didn’t care.
Lydia Williams finally felt free for the first time in her life.
She knew that when the euphoria wore off and reality hit her, she would panic about what she’d just done, but for now she didn’t care one little bit.
She was driving with Barney to the most scenic wild camping site she’d discovered in the Lake District, and she would spend the next few days sleeping in her roof tent, staring up at the stars, drinking hot chocolate and reading.
She didn’t need a man to make her life complete; she was quite capable of doing that herself.
Lydia had decided against taking her little Suzuki Jimny jeep up the narrow track to the spot she’d seen one of the other wild campers she followed on Instagram rave about.
As she’d followed the road that led to the narrower coffin road, she’d had a change of mind.
She didn’t want to intrude on Shazza’s pitch because, as far as she knew from her last post, she was still up there.
Although it would be great to meet her in person, she wasn’t quite brave enough to introduce herself, which was stupid considering they both had a lot in common.
They both had 4x4s with roof tents, both loved the outdoors and both seemed to prefer their own company than being with others, which was why she didn’t want to turn up unannounced.
Instead, she’d gone to an official wild camping site where there was only one other tent pitched and decided it was near enough; and because the only amenity was a toilet block with a single shower that ran freezing cold, it was almost as good as being on her own.
At least it was dog friendly, and she had been able to walk Barney for miles and hadn’t met another single person.
Another couple of weeks and this place would be heaving with people camping, once the weather had improved, but she didn’t mind the chill in the air of an evening.
She loved being snuggled with Barney in her tent, reading, or they’d watch something on her iPad.
This cold weather meant the night skies were usually clear, and the stars would paint a pretty picture for her to watch before bed.
As she walked back along the footpath that reached the campsite, she saw the other tent that had been pitched had now gone.
The couple who had been camping had been so lovely and had shared their burgers with her last night, after she’d commented how good they smelled.
They’d started following her on Instagram, and she had followed them, so they could keep in touch, which was very sweet, and they’d even asked her if she wanted to move on to the next campsite with them.
Lydia had declined; she really did love her own company even if it did get a little spooky at night sometimes.
Having this place to herself was worth the eeriness of being completely alone in a remote place.
Barney was in heaven. He’d never left her side since she’d gone home and packed their stuff, after she’d told Justin to shove his job.
She lay reading, her eyes getting heavy.
She was tired, as she’d walked miles this afternoon, contemplating what she was going to do with her life now she was a free woman.
Suddenly she heard the crunching of tyres crawling along the gravel track that led to the site.
It was late. Whoever it was they were going to have to pitch their tent in the dark, unless they had a roof tent too.
Her roof tent was amazing; within minutes she had a warm, cosy place to sleep without any of the usual hassle of pitching and struggling against the wind to get the pegs in the ground and secure it before it blew away.
She thought about offering to help the person, but Barney was snoring next to her, and she was warm and cosy.
It wasn’t up to her, for all they knew she might be asleep.
Snapping a quick photo of herself and Barney tucked up in her sleeping bag, she tried to post it to Instagram, but the signal wasn’t too good up here.
Putting her phone under her pillow, she closed her eyes, pulling the hood of the sleeping bag over her head to muffle any noise her new neighbours might make, and began to breathe deeply in through her nose and out through her mouth, listening to the calming sound of the wind fluttering leaves in the trees in the distance.
She always used this little meditation to help her fall asleep and it did the trick.
Before long she was drifting off unaware of anything that was happening around her.
She didn’t pick up on the fact that whoever had arrived in their car hadn’t even got out of it.
There were no sounds for the next hour except Lydia’s and Barney’s gentle snores that seemed to be in complete synchronicity with each other.
They masked the sound of the footsteps getting closer to her tent and creeping around in the dark.