Free The Dead Tracks by Tim Weaver Page B

you if I…'
        I
glanced at the photograph of Megan. Things have changed. , I should have
said. But then I remembered the way Kaitlin had been when I'd gone to the
school, and realized a part of me wanted to find out what she had to say.
        'I,
uh… There's something…' 'It's okay, Kaitlin.'
        'Something
you should know.' 'Okay.'
        'About
Megan.' A pause. A long one. 'I'm just sick of having to lie.'
        More
silence. For a moment, all I could hear was the slight crackle of her breath
against the mouthpiece.
        Then,
finally, she spoke.
      
            
        The
Carvers' gates were closed when I pulled up outside. I'd tried calling ahead,
but no one had answered. I locked the BMW, stepped up to the intercom and
pressed the buzzer. They had a small camera embedded in the number pad. I
looked into it. It was moving from left to right, then — as it got to me - stopped.
A crackle on the intercom.
        'What
do you want?'
        James
Carver.
        'I
need to speak to you.'
        'We've
got nothing more to say to one another.'
        'You're
going to want to hear this.'
        The
camera hummed. This time, in its centre, I could see the lens open up. He was
zooming in on me. I stared straight into the eye of it.
        Then
the gates buzzed open.
        Carver
met me at the door, but didn't offer me anything to drink. Didn't even ask me
in. The two of them stood in the doorway, arms crossed, defensive, waiting for
whatever I had to say. Carver was in front of his wife, protecting her, as if
he thought I might try to start something.
        'I
got a call this morning,' I said, keeping my eyes fixed on him. 'From Kaitlin -
Megan's friend. Did the police ever tell you what she said in her statement?'
        'What's
this got to do with anything?'
         'Did they?'
        Anger
flared in his eyes. 'She was the last person to see Megan.' He paused, a flutter
of sadness in among the irritation. 'That's it.'
        For
the first time, I glanced at Caroline. Her eyes were fixed on mine, but there
wasn't any of the animosity of her husband.
        'That's
not it,' I said, glimpsing a little fear in her now.
        'What
are you talking about?'
        'Before
Megan disappeared, she confided in Kaitlin.'
        'About
what?' Carver said.
        'And
I think she might have confided in your wife as well.'
        Carver's
mouth dropped a little, as if he couldn't believe I had the balls to come into
his home and insult his wife again. Then, when Caroline didn't respond, didn't
even attempt to register her disgust, he looked over his shoulder at her.
        'Caroline?'
he said. 'What's going on?' She couldn't look at him.
        'James,'
I said, and waited for him to turn back to me. When he did, the anger had gone
from his face. 'Megan was pregnant.'
    ----
        

Sona
        
        Sona
woke. Next to her, Mark was lying on his stomach, the sheet gathered at the
small of his back, breathing so quietly she could barely hear him. On the floor,
their clothes were scattered everywhere: a blouse, a skirt, a pair of jeans, a
T-shirt, a jacket. Shoes at the door. Underwear still clinging to the ends of
the duvet.
        She
sat up and caught sight of herself in the reflection of the mirror. Naked, and
still a little conscious of it, even though they were nearly six months into
their relationship. It was a feeling that was slowly starting to pass. Mark
made her feel good about herself in a way few men had before. That didn't mean
he complimented her a lot either, but she'd made allowances for that. He was
incredibly shy, so different from the other men she'd known, and she liked that
about him. She'd always had reactive men before. Men who told her she was
beautiful and then ended up tearing her heart out. She found Mark's stillness —
his sense of quiet — new, exciting and secure.
        She
headed to the bathroom and closed the door,