The Jet Jewel

Chapter 2

Sunglasses in hand, Hannah pushed the door open and crossed the hallway to the living room door. "Aunt Jess, I'm sorry, I—"

Halfway open, the door stuck and she bumped into it. A curse on the other side. The door gave way, but all Hannah could see was her cousin's back as he moved out from behind it. Her skin tingled. Something was wrong. Why had Sean left the door open? Flashes of blue and orange behind him. The cushions, the rug. Same as always, but less bright somehow. A fraction of a second later the realisation hit. In Sean's hand. A gun.

Footsteps. Running. A dark man with black Beethoven hair, wearing some kind of heavy cape-like overcoat, disappeared into the garden. Sean swore again, and chased him over the little fence.

Hannah tried to move, but shock had her rooted to the spot. Who was that man? What was Sean doing with a gun? Should she follow? Her hand moved towards the phone in her bag, but hovered as the rest of the room came into view. Her breath faltered. Dropping her sunglasses and her bag, she covered her mouth with her fingers and sank to her knees. On the orange rug lay a woman, a large red stain covering her chest. It wasn't Aunt Jess. It couldn't be! On hands and knees Hannah moved towards her.

This wasn't Aunt Jess. This woman may have her hair, and her nose, and her lips, but this was not her wonderful aunt, the woman who'd raised her, who always had a laugh in her eyes, even when she was angry. Frantically checking for a pulse, Hannah fought the growing sense of futility until it suffocated her. She leaned back, gasping for air, wiping clouding eyes with her palms. Why? Who would do this?

She felt around for her bag, and took out her phone to call the police. With a strangled voice, she managed to convey her address, but the battery died before she could answer all the questions. Died. What an awful word. Staring at the woman in front of her, Hannah took the hand that had fallen over her aunt's stomach and caressed it, clutching the fingers to her chest. Oh, Aunt Jess... How did this happen so fast? Hannah had only just left. She swallowed. And now she had to leave again. Sean had gone after the killer. He could be in danger too. With a last kiss on her aunt's hand, she placed it back on her stomach. When she closed the eyes staring at the ceiling, she let her fingers brush the cheek. Bye, Aunt Jess.

Forcing back her tears, she ran into the side street. For a moment she hesitated, searching for a hint of where Sean and the attacker had gone. The rows of Sneinton houses were baking in the sun. A dog had found a tiny patch of shadow to fall down in. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

The sound of a car braking ripped through the air, followed by angry shouting. Hannah sprinted in the direction of the noise. Left here, then right. Halfway down the road one of Aunt Jess's neighbours was talking to an angry woman in a little red car.

"Just like that! Yes, I saw them! And in this heat!"

"Mr. Singh!" Hannah shouted, "Which way did they go?"

Mr. Singh pointed up the hill. "Up there, Hannah. Was that Sean with a gun?"

"Call the police!" She raced to the corner, just in time to catch a glimpse of flying coat tails across the square. Come on, Sean! He still hadn't caught up, chasing the man up the stairs leading to Mill's Park.

Hannah shot after them, feet pummelling the steps. At the top of the stairs... nothing. Panting, she kicked the ground. Too slow! She scoured the field surrounding the windmill. She wasn't that far behind. Where could they have gone? Her eyes darted around. The windmill, locked. The field, deserted. They couldn't have doubled back. Where else was there?

On her left was the old, overgrown wall where the miller's cottage had once stood. That was too high to climb without a ladder. Oh! The door! She had never seen the weathered wooden door open before, but now it was ajar. Squinting against the sun she bridged the few yards to the opening and with her hand on the rusty latch, flung herself through it.