Hide and Seek Read online

  Hide and Seek

  Mark Ayre

  As this is the first book I’ve published since my daughter was born, it seems only fitting I dedicate it to her.

  No bait and switch here.

  Sophie, this is for you.

  Contents

  By Mark Ayre

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Author’s note

  Get a free pre-release thriller

  Have you read?

  Hide and Seek

  The James Perry mysteries

  Standalone

  About the Author

  By Mark Ayre

  HIDE AND SEEK

  hide and seek

  count to ten

  JAMES PERRY MYSTERIES

  The black sheep’s shadow

  All your secrets

  STAND ALONE

  poor choices

  One

  As a young girl, Mercury, on imaginary horseback, would skip into the small copse three hundred yards from her house in search of that most wonderful prize.

  Escape from everyday life.

  Once within, the clutch of trees increased five thousandfold and more, creating a magical forest stretching into eternity, waiting to swallow the unwary traveller.

  Such a place was not for the faint of heart, which was no issue for this horse riding adventurer, bravest of them all. Far braver than real-world Mercury, who allowed the other kids to pick on her because of her coming-apart-at-the-seams second-hand clothes; her gangly, ungainly limbs; her plastic, goggle-like glasses; and, most of all, her stupid, hateful name. The one she would change, soon as she was able.

  She spent every available day, minute and hour in that forest, until mother appeared, storming through the trees and shattering the illusion, yelling at her daughter to come. Telling Mercury, she longed for the day her only child grew out of the childish habit of make-belief.

  Sullen, frustrated, hurt; Mercury vowed never to tire of galloping through her enchanted forest upon the palomino horse she’d named Terry. Nor of fighting the beastly elves and goblins that made the darker recesses of this magical place their home. And when her mum gave that knowing smirk, feeling no need to comment on her daughter’s silly ideas, Mercury had hated her.

  Of course, “mother knows best” and was proved right. As Mercury grew, the local shopping centre became a more desirable haunt than the copse by her home. Making friends a challenge more worthy of her time than fighting imaginary monsters. Even poor Terry fell by the wayside as Mercury searched for something, anything, she could do to make the gorgeous, older, Sam Tame notice her.

  Mother had been right, but Mercury never forgot that smirk. It would become one of many contributing factors to packing her bags at the earliest opportunity and leaving home. Escaping the unsupportive mother, cruel town, and copse that had been a forest; her one source of joy pre-puberty.

  Though she rarely thought of her childhood, and though she never played make-believe, she still remembered that happy place fondly. She associated all woods, forests and related tree gatherings with happiness and escape.

  One such location nestled against the outskirts of the village the adult Mercury called home. A wood which dwarfed the copse of her childhood, but was infinitely smaller than the endless forest of her mind.

  It was here she came when the stresses of adult life induced anxiety too great to be dispelled in the confines of her home. Or when something unexpected floored her, left her reeling.

  Along a winding, narrow road which separated village from wood as a moat does castle from kingdom. On a night where the fat, full moon fired at the earth like a cannon, scattering the darkness to the corners of your vision, Mercury’s car came. Headlights leading the way, pointing towards that handy alcove, where the trees scooted from the road, creating a parking space just the right size, she pulled in and killed the engine.

  When she moved, it was to twist her head to the village she had fled minutes ago. Keeping fresh tears at bay, she wiped clean those she had been unable to resist, which had dried on her cheeks. Because she did not want this place of escape to know she had cried, she ensured her cheeks were clean before turning to the trees. As though they cared and would be hurt by her pain. She tried not to think of Dom, of what he’d done, with… well, she definitely wasn’t going to let in that poisonous cow. That way lay madness.

  Before allowing herself to step from the car, she took several deep breaths. In through the nose. Hold. (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10). Out through the mouth. (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10).

  A little more under control, she left the close atmosphere of her car, leaving behind her phone and the six flashing missed calls, and stepped into the cool night air. From above, the moon bathed Mercury in a spotlight, though there was no one present to see her.

  The child with the rampant imagination, who had been bullied as a child, was no longer evident in the adult’s exterior. Like her penchant for make-believe, her undesirable qualities had melted with the years. Time had transformed gangly youth to slender adult. Ambition had provided a bank balance to acquire items of clothing worth more than the combined wardrobes of mother and growing daughter. Which said little. Vanity, though she denied the term, had swapped glasses for contacts, better displaying deep blue eyes which attracted near as much attention as her legs.

  The name Mercury was the only keepsake from that unhappy time. It was an unwanted reminder of her mother. A woman who found loving her daughter impossible, but was happy to lumber the child with a name snatched from the lead of her favourite band. Despite this, Mercury resisted the change threatened as a kid. It was unique, after all. Besides, her mother would feel only satisfaction should she decide to ditch it.

  A gust of wind blew, Mercury’s hair whipped her face, and she realised the ghost of her past, of that long-gone little girl, had crept upon her.

  Dom’s fault. And hers.

  The bastards. She wanted to return to the village, to find and drag them from wherever they lay so she could take them to the ground and pummel them until they—

  Another gust of wind
rustled the leaves, grabbed Mercury’s focus. It was as though the trees were whispering.

  Be calm. Come in. Let’s talk.

  At such a ridiculous notion, she could almost smile. She had feared, in her current state, even her favourite spot would be unable to bring her calm happiness. She had been wrong and almost found a skip in her step as she passed between the two giant oaks which seemed to form an archway entrance. As the wind rustled in the leaves again, she thought this place seemed more than a secluded hideaway.

  It seemed almost magical.

  Two

  For Mercury, there was no one well-worn route, nor single path trodden time and again. On almost every visit, she had taken the same entrance into the trees’ embrace. Beyond those first steps, she made a point of walking in different directions, splitting at different landmarks, delving into unchartered territories.

  Over time, all routes had become well-worn and familiar.

  Even in darkness—and it was dark, close-growing trees shrouding her from the moonlight with their leaves—she was able to keep her bearings. She knew where she was in relation to her car at almost all times. There was comfort in this. Should ever she need to return home in a hurry, there would be no dallying, searching for escape. That was nice, but it frustrated Mercury, being so sure of each step. Knowing where she was, what came next, at all times. Those first few hundred walks had each brought something new and exciting. No longer. Every drop of mystery she had squeezed from the fruit of her woods and the little girl who could look at ten trees and see a million was long gone. Perhaps an imagination store remained in the recesses of her mind. If so, it was close to going bust.

  She expected no mystery, nothing new, so was startled into stopping in her tracks when she heard someone pacing through the trees nearby.

  This was unexpected. Not because Mercury believed she alone visited these woods. She would not be so naive. But so late? Mercury was used to seeing dog walkers and joggers on early mornings, bunking teenagers on afternoons, and charging kids at weekends.

  Under cover of night… this was new.

  Though she had come to the woods to be alone, and the thought of human contact would have been repellent as she parked, the unexpected sounds drew her attention. She found her feet twisting to face them, almost as though she wasn’t in control.

  This late at night, the only ones foolish enough to come wandering, she guessed, would be teenagers, having snuck from home to find a place to be alone. A couple, seeking to make decisions that would horrify their parents.

  Mercury possessed no desire to disturb two partially undressed teens clumsily trying to please each other while pretending the uneven, twig strewn ground was not tearing their backs and knees. Still, she approached.

  Because it didn’t sound like teens. More like a solo adult. Not walking but pacing across the same couple of metres of land. Between two trees, maybe, or around one.

  Whoever it was, they were waiting.

  Mercury stopped, one hand on a tree, pressing close to the thick trunk. Relatively sure behind it, no more than a handful of metres away, the pacing man was making a small loop.

  This close, she was sure it was a man. He wasn’t speaking but muttering under his breath, and the sounds revealed his gender. Mercury considered a drug meet, but that seemed unlikely. Dealers were brazen. Would pull up by a busy shopping centre in a massive 4x4, chuck the packet to the punter, and drive.

  In which case, why pace?

  And why did she care?

  Distraction. Again, it might have been a whisper from the trees. Mercury looked up, as though she might reply. They were right, but she’d never let them know.

  The pacing stopped. There was a thud followed by a sigh. The man falling against a tree and exhaling in frustration or anticipation. Perhaps nerves. There was something endearing about it. Or maybe there wasn’t, and Mercury only wanted to be endeared. Wanted to believe there might be a nice man around the tree behind which she hid. It would be good to meet one after Dom.

  When he sighed again; although she guessed he was clueless to her presence, she stepped from behind the tree as though it had been an invitation. Gave a quiet, unobtrusive cough.

  Startled, he jumped and screamed, as if she’d fired a gun inches from his ear.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  He was clutching his heart, as though mid-attack, which was a bit adorable. Unless he was mid-heart attack. That could pose problems. Knowing where her car was and being able to reach it in time to save his life were different things.

  “For sneaking up on you,” she continued, to fill the silence left by his failure to respond.

  Still getting his heart under control, and building to speaking, he shook his head. Then waved a hand to tell her it was okay. She decided not to speak again until she’d heard his voice.

  “You scared me,” he said at last, redundant words but he seemed relieved to have evicted them. Like his sigh, his voice was gentle. That of a soft, kind man. Kind enough to get walked over.

  Given she didn’t know him, it was unfair to judge on so little information, but she couldn’t help it.

  “If you’re so easily frightened,” she said, trying to keep her tone as soft as his voice, knowing the words could sound harsh, “perhaps you shouldn’t be walking in a dark woods late at night.”

  He was of average height. Towards but not reaching six feet, Mercury guessed, like herself. He wore dark trousers, and a shirt you could tell even in the dim light was ironed. He was slim, his face handsome if not striking. Unlike her, he had been brave enough not to replace his glasses with lenses. Perhaps because he looked good in them, where she never had.

  “You’re certainly right,” he said. “And I never would. Nor in the day. Unlike you, this is my first visit.”

  “How do you know it isn’t mine?”

  “You look at home.”

  A smile played across her lips. He had been pacing a relatively open area, and the moon cast decent light. Still, to pick up something so nuanced in the conditions was impressive.

  “What brings you here?” She asked.

  “Date,” he said. She didn’t know if he was joking.

  “Strange location.”

  With a strained glance left and right, he nodded. Embarrassment crept into his cheeks, his eyes dropped from hers.

  “A first date,” he continued.

  “Ah.”

  “We met online.”

  “Ah,” she repeated. She didn’t want to say what she was thinking. Luckily, it was on his mind.

  “I think maybe I’ve been set up..”

  “And stood up?”

  “Or worse.”

  “There are some dangerous people around.”

  “You’d better get going then. Don’t want you caught in my stuff.”

  Around them, the leaves continued to rustle, to talk, but Mercury was no longer listening. The moon shone as bright as ever, lighting the stage of their conversation. She considered his words, then cut the distance between them to a couple of metres.

  “I can hang around if you want?”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “It’s okay, I’m thinking I’d like to.”

  It was a fluid situation. Did she want to? It seemed so. She replayed the scene from earlier that evening. Screaming in Dom’s face. Throwing across the room flower pots and ornaments. Like a soap character. Catching herself in the mirror and thinking, who is that crazy woman?

  It was her reflection that had driven her from home, into her car, to her woods. These woods. All the while ruminating on how Dom was a bastard, but how could he be blamed when bastardness was so common?

  “What’s your name?”

  He considered, as though she’d asked for a loan and he wasn’t sure whether to trust her. The cogs turned. The decision went in her favour.

  “Laars. Yours?”

  “Mercury.” After all these years, she still grimaced during the reveal.

  “Parents big fans of
liquid metal?”

  It wasn’t only the original comeback that skyrocketed her fondness for the stranger. It was the way he said it. Like the words had slipped free. He was proud for thinking of them but terrified she would take them the wrong way.

  When she laughed, he saw the pleasure in her eyes and relaxed, smiled. A handsome smile.

  “I like that,” she said. “If only it was. Not the obvious.”

  “Queen?”

  Reluctant as ever, she nodded. The worst of it was Freddie Mercury’s Queen made her kind of music, but in it, she could find no enjoyment. She had to be one of the few people who didn’t start singing and jumping around when Bohemian Rhapsody played. The only one who tried to smash the radio in an unexplained bout of fury.

  Something else for which to blame her mother.

  “You should ditch this date,” Mercury said and supposed she felt about as surprised as he looked at the suggestion. To clarify, she said, “not because I want to run off with you or anything,” and compounded it with a stupid, false laugh that was not her.