Page 37 of Killing Mind
Thirty-Two
‘You reckon they were both in this cult thingy?’ Bryant asked, after she ended her conversation with Penn. That both of their victims had the same stomach contents was not something she had encountered before unless they had shared the same last meal, which would have been impossible for Sammy and Tyler, as the boy had died weeks before.
‘Is the disbelief in your voice at them both being members or that there is actually some kind of cult in Wolverley?’
‘Both but probably more the latter,’ he said honestly.
She couldn’t really offer anything in disagreement.
Wolverley was a village two miles north of Kidderminster lying on the River Stour. With a population of approximately two thousand people it was usually peaceful with a low crime rate, except for a gruesome murder somewhere in the village back in the nineties. She knew the area boasted thirteen listed buildings and caves cut into the sandstone cliffs behind some of the dwellings. Surrounding the sleepy village were rolling fields and wooded areas, and they now knew a place called Unity Farm.
‘His face was a picture,’ Bryant said, heading out of Wordsley.
‘Huh?’
‘Callum when you ripped the spliff from his mouth. Classic. And the benefits office was very pleased to take my call.’
‘It’s been a good day for that lad,’ she agreed. While Bryant had been busy grassing up Callum to the authorities, she had tried to place a second call to Woody, to update him on the shoe found at the lake. The fact that he was unavailable in a quarterly budget meeting did not bode well for the request she was going to be making when she got back to the station.
‘He was a bit of a dick, wasn’t he? Should be interesting to see what he comes up with for his whereabouts when Sammy was murdered.’
‘Smoking too much of that stuff and he’ll barely remember what he did an hour ago,’ she answered.
‘What’s your feeling?’
She shrugged. ‘He’s not out of the woods yet. I think there’s more to his personality than we’ve seen. Perhaps a quick temper. So, he’s staying on the radar for now.’
‘Satnav says we’re a quarter mile away from the destination,’ Bryant said, as the fields either side opened up around them.
‘Okay, slow down and…’
‘Oh, the irony of you telling me to slow down.’
She chuckled. She only ever told him to speed up
‘There,’ she called out as they passed an open gate with a small brass plate screwed in to the top.
Bryant steered the car quickly onto the single track road that turned into a dirt path as it rounded a bend that skirted a small wooded area.
‘Hear that?’ Bryant asked, winding down his window as he drove slowly.
‘I can’t hear a thing.’
‘Exactly,’ he said.
As they moved further away from the road the silence deepened. Something that always put Kim on edge. She liked the noise, the activity, the impatience and misery of people rushing from one place to another. Tranquillity unnerved her.
Bryant pulled to a halt on a gravel patch in front of a shack with a hand-painted sign that said ‘Farm Shop’.
‘Aspirational, eh, guv?’ Bryant asked, switching off the engine.
Kim had to agree. The farm shop was a garden shed with a table out front. A bowl of eggs sat between a few clutches of carrots and a pile of misshaped potatoes.
The girl behind the table stood, her face alight with the prospect of making a sale. Not surprising as she was hardly on the high street.
‘Buy some carrots, Bryant,’ Kim whispered as they approached.
‘You call them c…’
