Free The Aura by Carrie Bedford Page A

household. Who’s calling please?”
    “Mr. Williams. I’m wondering if Rebecca is there?”
    After a short pause, he replied. “No, I’m sorry. Who is this?”
    “I’m a friend of Rebecca’s. You wouldn’t happen to know where she is, would you?”
    “Well, she’ll be at home, I’d think,” he said. “Or maybe still at the office. She does seem to work long hours.”
    I didn’t want to worry him by telling him she hadn’t turned up for work. “I lost her cell phone number,” I continued. “So I haven’t been able to reach her. I’m sorry to bother you.”
    “Oh, no bother, I can give you her number,” he said. I was touched by how trusting he was. Pretending to take note of the number, I thanked him and was about to ring off when he asked “Are you Kate, by any chance?”
    “Yes, Kate Benedict,” I said, wondering how he could know who I was.
    “Rebecca was here on Friday night. She told us she’d bumped into you. You were dorm mates in college, weren’t you? She sounded very happy that you are going to be friends again.”
    “Thank you, Mr Williams,” I said. “I’m happy too.”
    I tried to think of a way to ask him when he’d last heard from Rebecca without alarming him, but he was already saying goodbye. At least I knew that she wasn’t in Bournemouth.
    Feeling rather morbid, I scanned some Internet news sites for any news of accidents or deaths in the London area, but nothing came up. I tried Rebecca’s cell again and when she didn’t pick up, I went to get my jacket and scarf. If she were at home, then she might be sick, perhaps sleeping with her phone turned off.
    I joined the tail end of the late evening commute on the Tube, got off at Sloane Square, and hurried through the quiet streets to Rebecca’s house. Under the amber light of the street lamps, I could see my breath curling away in the cold air. An elderly lady walked past with a little dog on a leash. It was wearing a red jacket and matching red socks.
    The bell for Rebecca’s apartment was lit and clearly marked. I pushed it several times, but there was no answer. Stepping back from the entry on to the pavement, I looked up at her windows. They were dark; the curtains were open and no lights were on, so it seemed obvious that she was away, perhaps on business, or perhaps at her boyfriend’s place. Now I was standing here in the cold, I felt rather silly. Of course, she could be with her boyfriend. She had seen him on Sunday evening, which was why she had cancelled our movie plans. If he was available for a couple of days, then maybe she had just decided to call in sick. I tried to ignore my hurt feelings. Surely she would have responded to my texts.
    A taxi circled the square and pulled up a few yards away. I waited. Perhaps it was Rebecca coming home. The back door opened. A young couple paid the driver before making their way to the house next door. Defeated, I turned to walk back to the Tube station.
    I had a thought, turned back, and walked up the black and white tiled pathway. The two men who lived in the flat on the second floor, what were their names? Nick and Gary? They might know where Rebecca was. I glanced up to confirm that their lights were on, a lambent glow behind gold-colored curtains. I pressed the button labeled Nick Carpenter. After a few seconds a voice came over the intercom.
    “Yes? Who is it?” His voice was smooth and warm, like cafe latte.
    “My name is Kate,” I answered. “We met about a week ago. I’m a friend of Rebecca’s.”
    After a pause, Nick replied. “What can I do for you, Kate?”
    “I’m worried about her.” I hated talking into the brass speaker plate. “Can I speak to you inside?”

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    There was a long silence, before I heard the door click open. Stepping into the elegant entryway, I waited, unsure whether Nick would come down to meet me. After a minute or so, he appeared at the top of the gently-lit stairs and waved me up. He was dressed in jeans and a