Who Killed Kyle Simmons? (Bastille)

Chapter Four

Chapter four

Her heels clicked on the concrete path and she turned back to take another look at Janna's house. It was the small, two bedroom, detached, typical house. Painted white, with a dark green door.

She quickly did the buttons up on the front of her coat, it was mid-January, and a frosty chill lingered in the air. A thin sheet of ice covered the grass, trees and pavement. Small clouds formed in the air whenever she breathed out.

Layla would have run a hand through her hair if it wasn't for her bun, which, had taken a considerable amount of time to keep the stray hairs, from popping up. The lack of hair pins she'd possessed didn't help either, but she preferred to keep her hair out of her face. Or the face of the dead.

She turned back from the house to see where she was walking when she collided with someone.

"Sorry."

Dan looked down at her, even in heels she was shorter, but only by a couple of inches. His quiff also gave the illusion that he was a good three inches taller than he actually was as well.

Quiff was a loosely used description, of what was actually a dark mass of hair tangled and sticking out in every direction. Layla doubted if he ever brushed it. But that was beyond the point.

"Oh, Dan... Hi."

He forced a smile, but his eyes still showed the overwhelming grief Layla was guessing he felt.

"How, erm are you?"

"Fine, I'm fine." Layla rocked back on her heels.

Dan stared at his own shoes, before looking back up at her. He looked tired, like Janna. They wore the same dark bags under their eyes. The same drained look.

He kept on playing with the tangle of red, yellow, black and green bracelets and shoelaces tied around his left wrist. A dark top and jeans reflected his mood. The belt holding his jeans up was tied loosely, not serving it's proper purpose very well.

Layla guessed he and Kyle had been close.

Looking around, she but her lip as she took in Dan's state again.

She gestured to her car, she was in a rush. Flashing Dan an apologetic glance.

"Hey, do you mind meeting me tomorrow at that shop on the corner?"

Layla felt her phone start to buzz violently from the depths of her bag, she tried to ignore it as she talked, or more like communicated through stares, with Dan.

Dan noticed.

"Um, sure, you should probably get that." He fiddled with the bracelets on his wrist.

She smiled whilst looking for her phone, buried deep in her bag, "so about eleven?"

Dan nodded. He walked down the street, hands in his hoodie pockets, hood covering his head. White converse scuffing against the Tarmac as he crossed the road.

He soon disappeared round the corner, and Layla was left fumbling through her bag in search of her car keys. Her phone had since gone silent, and unless someone called a second time, she wasn't too bothered to check it.

Her bloody keys always fell to the bottom of her bag.

Eventually, she felt the cold plastic shell of her keys, dragging them out, she unlocked her car.

It smelled of mint air freshener.

Layla almost fell into the small blue Audi as she tripped over the curb, instead, managing to painfully bump into the wing mirror.

"Fuck!"

She looked around, but no one was around to hear her yelling abuse at the car.

After managing to clamber into the drivers seat, quite ungracefully, Layla slammed the door shut. The car was old, really old, she needed a new one. The peeling paint, and rusty doors said it all, but there was something she liked, about it's worn out look.

Since her talk with Dan, her phone had stopped ringing until she'd sat in her car, by now it was relentlessly assaulting her ears with the default ring tone.

She decided she'd better answer it, but first checked the caller ID to see who wanted to talk so desperately with her.

Letting out a laboured sigh, Layla answered the call less than enthusiastically. She wasn't really in the mood to talk to the police right now. Even if it was her fellow detective, (who was working on another case in the same area).

"Hello-"

"Why didn't you answer your phone, I've been calling for ages?"

"I was busy."

Her short temper wasn't helping.

"Well this is important. Look, you know that girl who went missing just under a week ago?-"

"Abby Teller?"

"Yes."

His voice was grim. This time Layla ran a hand through her hair, she could tell it wasn't good news.

"Well, they found her body."

"When?"

"About an hour ago, are you able to come check it out?"

"Yep, I'm on my way." It was his case, but Layla had been involved before being handled Kyle's case.

She disconnected the call and turned the heating up in the car. It was only small, so would be warm in a few minutes.

Across the road a couple got out of their car and headed inside.

The normality of everything was odd. They didn't know, that less than 48 hours ago, a man had been beaten to death. They didn't know, that somewhere, there was a killer who may even live next door.

They didn't know anything.

That's what was the thing, they would just carry on like normal, without realising that even under their noses, multiple lives were falling apart.

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A/N

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