Page 57 of Diamond in the Rough

Jake didn’t understand. There was little point burning down Stationery Corner. There was no grand statement or threat. The shop had been empty, customers and staff safe from harm. The only person affected would be Sam, and he’d claim it back on the insurance.

Jake pressed his thumb down again, over and over on his phone. Carl always picked up his calls. He never kept Jake waiting.

Jake’s throat closed up, making it harder to breathe. A niggling voice grew louder in his head. He tried to shut it down before it became a solid thought, but the more Jake denied it, the more it became unstoppable.

There was no proof anything had happened to him, no reason Carl would’ve still been in the shop. He was probably out eating somewhere, too engrossed in his food to hear his phone. There was no proof, but Jake knew. He felt it in his chest, and a bitter bile rose up his throat. He rushed to the bathroom, dropped to his knees, and vomited. His eyes burned, and he heaved for breath.

Carl was dead.

****

The next few days passed in a blur. Jake couldn’t remember how he’d gotten home, but Sam was with him, so he assumed he’d called him. Sam fumed about the damage to his shop and stock and the cost and time it’d take to rebuild, then he fell silent when a body was found in the storeroom.

Jake tried to convince himself it was just a body. Maybe one of the arsonists had trapped themselves inside, or maybe a thief had hidden to loot the place when it had closed.

He called Carl again and released a stream of curse words when he didn’t pick up.

Sam eyed him, then asked whether Jake thought the person in the storeroom was Carl.

“It’s a body, that’s all, only a body. It’s not anyone.”

Sam’s hand came down on Jake’s shoulder, and he squeezed. Jake could see it, but he couldn’t feel it. He turned back to the TV and watched the news on repeat. The shooting in the café and the fire in Stationery Corner.

“I’ll make you something to eat…”

Jake shook his head. “Go home, Sam.”

“I go home, and when I come back here, you’re still sat there, same position, same clothes. Same expression.”

“I’m fine.”

Sam sighed. “No, you’re not. Carl’s not answering my calls either, and we know he was in some kind of trouble…we only have to put two and two together.”

“How about we don’t?”

“Jake…”

“It’s a body—”

“It’s Carl’s body.”

Jake lowered his head and pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “No, we don’t know that. He can’t be dead.”

****

A day later, and the body was no longer a body but Carl. Carl, who’d been trapped in the storeroom. Carl, who was identified by DNA and not by sight. Jake stopped trying to reach him on the phone and dialled Maddox’s number repeatedly instead.

“Who are you trying to call?”

Jake glanced up at the sound of Sam’s voice. He had forgotten he was in the flat, cooking up something that made Jake even more nauseous.

“No one,” Jake whispered.

Sam looked around. “I was thinking you should come stay with me for a few days.”

Jake shook his head. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. Your best friend has died.”

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