Who Killed Kyle Simmons? (Bastille)

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter fifteen

After carefully sliding Dan's house key under the front mat, Layla headed back to her car. Her black high heeled shoes clicking along the uneven pavement.

Hopefully, Dan wouldn't notice if a book was on the wrong shelf, or a chair was a centimetre out of place, Layla doubted he was that observant anyway.

A couple walked down the street opposite, hand in hand as they crossed the road in front of her. The man with shoulder length brown hair.

Woody and Chrissy.

Layla gave them a quick smile, hoping not to engage in conversation, but unfortunately Woody came over to talk.

"Anything new?"

She shook her head as she leaned on her car, sifting through her bag for the keys.

"Nothing. There are so many dead ends a-and nothing add's up. It's like everything was planned perfectly."

Layla remained staring at her bag as Woody nodded, a grim look plastered over his face.

Layla was taller than him by a few inches, especially as she was in her heels, giving her an extra couple or so inches of height.

Chrissy was about the same height as her husband and the small car was easily a good foot shorter.

Once again Layla had to push her dark hair from her face and twiddled with the end of her plait out of habit.

Her keys in her other hand, bag slung over her shoulder.

"Did Kyle say anything at all... Suspicious the last time you saw him?"

"No, not really", Chrissy answered, her eyes directed at the notepad Layla had slid out, and was busy writing in.

"I-I mean, he's talked about leaving the band occasionally, but only as a joke." Chrissy continued.

Woody nodded as his wife began to fill me in on the details.

"I work at the University down the road and Kyle was talking about perhaps helping there someday, just as a supply or something. We're studying Shakespeare at the moment, and he'd told me he was quite interested, as well, some of the songs have references, but..." She seemed to stop mid sentence, as if the weight of what had happened, finally hit home. "He never got to." Chrissy finished.

Woody began to add more information that wouldn't really help.

Layla dumped her bag and notepad on the front passenger seat. Every now and then she kept glancing at her watch, politely trying to give subtle hints, that there was somewhere else she needed to be.

"Erm, I'm sorry but I need to go." Layla's words overlapped Woody's, and the three of them all went quiet.

"Wait, what did you just say?" She took a step towards Woody.

"Kyle had wanted to leave-"

"No, the bit after that."

"Oh... He was never good at keeping secrets, Kyle. That's why we all knew-"

"He wanted to leave." Layla finished off for him.

Grabbing the dog-eared notepad, she wrote a jumble of letters before circling them.

If Kyle was unable to keep anything secret for long, then what if there was something he'd taken to the grave?

Chrissy was quietly waiting a few metres away when Woody spoke.

"Kyle had wanted to leave the band, I suppose he did in the end, just not in the way anyone expected."

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A/N

Sorry for missing out three updates guys, but I had nothing written, and I wasn't in a writing mood. Hopefully there will be an update tomorrow if I have wifi, but if not, there will definitely be another chapter up by Sunday :)