Page 22 of Snow Going Back

Ice flooded Kate’s veins, and her heart began to thump against the wall of her chest. She instinctively reached for her phone and then remembered with horror that it was downstairs. She put her hands to her mouth, the grisly details of all the true crime shows she’d ever watched flickering through her mind in startling detail. They all mashed together into the image of her mother’s face boxed into a TV screen with a text ribbon running across her chest, readingEleanor Hunter, Kate’s mother.

‘It was a week before they found her,’ TV Eleanor said tearfully. ‘Parts of her, anyway. They never did find her arms.’

Kate jumped sharply out of bed, pushing the image of her body being hacked into small pieces firmly out of her mind. Someone being in the house was bad enough without her imagination making it worse. She looked around, searching for something she could use as a weapon. Whoever was down there most likely thought the house was empty, so if she was smart – and armed to at leastsomedegree – there was a chance she could get out of this safely. She just needed to keep a cool head.

She suddenly remembered seeing a baseball bat in the bedroom next door. Creeping to the door, she peered through the crack into the hallway, then, seeing it was clear, she hurriedover and grabbed the hollow metal bat. She tested it out in her hands and tried a couple of practice swings, then with deep reluctance she forced herself out of the room and down the stairs.

She moved slowly, her heart pounding in her chest, pausing halfway down where the stairwell opened up to peer over the banister towards the kitchen. Light spilled out, and she could tell by the ongoing sounds that this was where the intruder was, though she couldn’t see much from where she stood.

She had to stifle a gasp as a shadow suddenly crossed the floor. He – or she – hovered just around the corner for a moment and then retreated towards the other end of the kitchen again. Realising that this was probably the best opportunity she was going to get, and not giving herself time to talk herself out of it, Kate mustered all the courage she had and rounded the bottom of the stairs.

She ran into the kitchen with the bat held high and let out a fierce warrior cry. ‘Arghhhh!’

Skidding to an aggressive stop, she glared down the long room towards the intruder, but as she registered his face, her mouth dropped open and she gasped.

‘You!’ she accused, horrified. It was the driver who’d nearly rammed her with his truck. The man the police officer had carted off and warned her to steer clear of.Unsavoury, he’d called him. As the scene replayed in her mind, she suddenly remembered his more chilling words.Who knows what might have happened were I not here.

Her eyes flickered between his face and the kitchen knife in his hand. ‘Oh my God,’ she breathed, her insides turning to ice.He was here to kill her.

‘You,’ he growled back.

His voice cut through her fear, reigniting her survival instincts, and she lifted the bat higher.Langston, she suddenlyrecalled the officer calling him. Kate’s throat constricted, but she batted back the panic, focusing on him instead. She stared at his wild beard, shaggy unkempt hair and rumpled clothes, and wondered how he’d tracked her down.

He let out a dark growl and took a step towards her. ‘What thehelldo you?—’

‘Don’tyou move adamnmuscle, youpsychopath!’ Kate roared, cutting him off and jolting the bat back with a threatening half step towards him, as though about to attack.

Kate knew she had to make herself look threatening, even though she wasn’t. It was simple psychology but the key to survival throughout the animal kingdom. Something she’d learned from the many hours of David Attenborough documentaries she’d watched over the years.

Adrenaline coursed through her body, and blood rushed through her ears as she edged towards her phone. Langston had paused, confusion colouring his angry glare. Was he buying it?

‘That’s right,back off,’ she continued aggressively. ‘You tryanythingand it’s this bat versus your skull! And not that steel needs much help against bone, but I’ve got good aim and I’m stronger than I look,buddy.’ She reached out and grabbed her phone.

Langston glanced at it. ‘Yeah?’ His hard gaze glinted in challenge. ‘You really like your chances?’

He took a pointed step towards her, and a frisson of ice-cold alarm ran up Kate’s spine. It wasn’t working! She swung the bat in a swift arc, cutting through the air between them viciously.

‘Don’t test me,’ she hollered, puffing out her chest with fake confidence. ‘I willend you. I’m no damsel you can distress,mate. I’m fromLondon. And inLondonwe eat bully boys like you forbreakfast.’ Kate jutted out her chin, putting on her very best ghetto-girl impression.

Langston’s eyebrows shot up, and she internally winced, wondering whether the breakfast comment had been a touch over the top. She’d clicked the wake button on the side of her phone five times down by her side and then, risking a quick glance at the screen, quickly swiped her finger across the emergency call option. She pointed the bat towards him with a dark glare, aware she needed to keep him distracted.

‘You think you’re bad, but you havenoidea what dangerous is,’ she bluffed. ‘You picked thewrongvictim today.’ She swiped the air with the bat again.

‘You think you’re avictim?’ He shot back. ‘Youdidn’t end up with your car wrapped around a tree.Youdidn’t end up being hauled to the police station and held there for hours by an ass on a power trip. And now you stand there threateningme, holdingthat.’

‘Yes, Idamn well do,’ Kate shouted, cutting him off. ‘Because I sure as hell amnotgoing to be murdered here tonight! Here, standing by the back door of thedamnkitchenat the back of thislovely house, barely aweekafterCora Moreauxdied here!’ She prayed she was giving the police enough information to find her. She’d heard the quiet sound of the call connecting.

Langston’s face darkened, and anger flashed anew in his eyes. ‘Cora didn’tdiehere,’ he growled.

‘Oh yeah?’ Kate blustered. ‘And you know thathowexactly? Murder her with that big knife in your hands,too, did you?’

Langston blinked and pulled back as though repelled by her words. He glanced down at the knife and then back up to her, suddenly clocking the live call on the phone in her hand. He shook his head.

‘No.No. That’s not… Here.’ He placed the knife down on the kitchen counter and stepped away with a sound of frustration. ‘You’ve got it all wrong. Just put the phone down, OK? And the bat. This is all a complete misunderstanding.’

He was spooked. He now knew the police had heard it all and were likely already on their way. There were only two ways out of this kitchen, and he’d have to get past her to reach either of them, while it was all being recorded by the police. He was trapped.

‘Howis this a misunderstanding, exactly?’ she asked. ‘Clear it up for me.’

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