Page 8 of Box of Frogs
She yanked her arm away from me and turned to the barman. ‘I’m taking my break,’ she said. ‘Can you serve these two, please, Phil?’
He grunted and she all but sprinted away and through a solid-looking door marked ‘Staff Only’. By my side, I felt Dave shoot me a wary look. I forced a smile in his direction and shrugged. ‘Secret identity,’ I reminded him, as if my exchange with the woman had been nothing but banter. ‘No one’s supposed to know who I am.’
We got our drinks and, ignoring the prickle of discomfort across the back of my neck, Dave and I sat at the same table as his friends. I made sure that I had a clear vantage point to the door; if that woman reappeared, I wanted to know about it.
‘So,’ Dave said, taking several swift gulps of his beer as if alcohol could rescue him from the crazy woman he’d somehow entangled himself with, ‘tell me more about yourself.’ He shifted away from me slightly; clearly I was making him nervous. His eyes kept flickering around the room, as if he were searching for rescue. ‘Not your name. Tell me something else.’
He’d already served his purpose but all the same I felt a bit sorry for him. I took a small sip of my drink and savoured the taste, letting the bubbles tickle my tongue. ‘I like beer.’ I burped loudly for extra effect before grabbing the edge of my cape and using the corner of it to wipe my mouth. With that done, I scratched my crotch rather vigorously.
Dave’s cheeks coloured, embarrassed for me. ‘Good. That’s…’ he hesitated ‘…good.’ Then, apparently deciding that ignoring me would be the safest course because I wasn’t the sort of lady he’d thought I was, he turned to his friends and immediately engaged them in a supposedly riotous conversation about a game of football.
I smiled. Now, when I disappeared to find my errant barmaid so I could interrogate her, he would be unlikely to care. In fact, he’d probably be relieved.
I leaned away from him and his mates. The discomfort I’d felt earlier was increasing. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought that someone was watching me. No one in the bar area was glancing in my direction but there was a CCTV camera in a far corner and I was right in its line of sight.
I stood up and ambled over to the bandit machine on the other side of the room. I half-turned and started to fumble in the pocket of my shorts as if I were looking for some change to gamble away. The camera followed me, its tiny lens swivelling in my direction. Bingo. I’d definitely made the right decision in coming here.
I might have run away from the Amazon in the street but I’d been caught unawares and I’d panicked. That wasn’t going to happen again. This time I was here on purpose and I was prepared to do whatever I could to take charge of the situation.
What had happened with the bullets the previous night hadn’t been my imagination; I was sure of that. It might have been the adrenaline that awoke whatever powers lay inside me; all I had to do was to recapture that feeling and utilise the same skill now.
I raised my arms slowly, vaguely aware of Dave eyeing me as I did so. Then I whispered under my breath, ‘Come on.’
There was a brief tightening in my stomach, followed by a muted whooshing sound. The people around the edges of the bar blurred slightly and the high-pitched chatter around me dulled. I gazed round in astonishment. I’d done it – I’d slowed down time again.
I didn’t know how long it would last, however. Shaking myself, I closed my gaping mouth and vamoosed through the staff door. With any luck, all the CCTV would pick up would be a blur of electric blue. As the door closed behind me, I allowed myself a Wonder Woman spin. Take that, arsebadgers!
The bar might have been all sleek lines and burnished mahogany tables but the staff quarters beyond were somewhat shabbier. There were numerous health and safety posters lining the walls in the small staffroom, a few rickety chairs and a tea-stained table with an electric kettle and an array of mugs. There was no sign of the woman who’d recognised me.
Figuring that she probably wasn’t carousing with the chef or the kitchen porter, I skipped past the door marked ‘Kitchen’ and headed instead for the two doors near the end of the corridor. One led into a suspiciously empty office that had a bank of television screens that were obviously fed by the CCTV cameras, including the one that had been tracking me. The other led outside.
I popped my head out and there, leaning against the wall and blowing out a cloud of slowly dissipating cigarette smoke, was my target.
As soon as I stepped outside to join her, the air around me seemed to crackle as if the air molecules were tightening. A heartbeat later, the smoke that the woman had been exhaling abruptly picked up speed. Time had returned to its normal pace. That was uber groovy. Maybe I wasn’t a superhero. Maybe I was a Time Lord. Or Lady.
The woman turned towards me. The moment she caught sight of me, her nostrils flared and she sprang away from the wall, backing away. There was nowhere for her to go; behind her was a seven-foot wall and in front of her was, well, me.
I figured I’d be more likely to get information from her if I didn’t leap into threatening mode. Trying to keep emotions calm and the atmosphere peaceful, I held up my hands with my palms facing her. ‘I just want to talk,’ I said, in what I thought was a soothing tone.
Her cigarette dropped to the ground, hissing as it hit a puddle. She jumped away from me until she was pressed against the wall. ‘Stay away from me. I’ve not done anything. I don’t know anything!’
I swept my gaze across her. I didn’t get the same sense of menace as I’d had from the other woman earlier today; all I was getting was fear. ‘You’re frightened,’ I said. ‘Why?’
‘I … I…’ Her jaw worked uselessly while her eyes darted from side to side.
‘I promise I won’t hurt you. I won’t do anything.’ I changed tack. If she was afraid, that was her look out. I had questions I desperately needed answering. Trying not to reveal that I couldn’t remember my own darned name, I fudged slightly. ‘I need to know when I was last in here.’ My voice rose. ‘When was I last in this pub?’
She swallowed. ‘Maybe six weeks ago.’ Her expression clouded with confusion. ‘Don’t you—’
‘And who was I with?’ I interrupted. I was the one asking the questions here.
‘You…’
‘I’ll take it from here, Jodie,’ said a smooth male voice from behind me.
Her relief was palpable. She scooted away from the wall and past me, while I turned with a scowl and moved to stop her. The man stepped out from the shadows and gently pushed me away so she could escape back into the pub.
The anger I should have felt was superseded by a strange, squirmy sensation in the pit of my tummy. He hadn’t been in the pub earlier – I’d have noticed him if he had been. He was the sort of man who commanded attention. The very air around him crackled and I sensed uncoiled power and danger emanating from him.
