Free Disappeared: MANTEQUERO BOOK 2 by Jenny Twist

he ignored them. “It was at Christmas, or thereabouts,” he said, stopping to light a cigarette and taking an unconscionably long time to find his lighter. “A very fat English lady.” He paused to take a long, appreciative drag on his cigarette. “She wasn’t so fat when he’d finished with her, though.”
    “José,” one of the other men said, warningly.
    José gave him a dismissive glance. “Here’s these two chicas,” he went on, as if no-one had interrupted him. “One of them as fat as butter, coming here with no idea of what is going on.” He leant over and spat into the hearth. “And nobody’s telling them.” He turned back to Alison. “You,” he said, pointing a trembling finger at her, “are in danger and your fat friend is in even more danger. He likes them fat. She will call to him. You keep your doors and windows locked and don’t go out after dark without a couple of strong men beside you.”
    “What happened to her?” Alison whispered. “The other fat English lady. What happened?”
“What happened?” the old man repeated furiously. “What do you think happened? He killed her, that’s what happened. He sucked every bit of fat off her body. When they found her she was nothing but skin and bone.”
    Alison drew in her breath. She felt sick. Even though she had suspected right from the beginning that something dreadful may have happened to Miss Blacker, somehow hearing it boldly stated like that was a terrible shock. Heather, suddenly aware of the change in the atmosphere, looked up. “Are you all right? You’ve gone white.”
    It was all Alison could do to answer her and, when she did, her voice came out in a strange, whistling breath. “He says she’s dead. He says the mantequero killed her. He says” – she stopped and burst into tears.
    Heather got up from her seat and came round the table to sit next to her friend. “It’s just a legend,” she said, putting her arm round Alison’s shoulders and speaking in the sort of soft, soothing voice people use to calm children. “He’s not real. He can’t actually be real, can he? You know that.”
    Alison gulped and nodded.
    “So it must be something else. Something else happened. Just keep talking to them and sooner or later someone will say something that makes sense.”
    José, having achieved exactly the effect he was hoping for, patted Alison’s hand in an avuncular manner. “Never you mind, Guapa. You’ll be quite safe as long as you don’t let him in.”
     
    ****
    That night Alison made absolutely sure all the windows and doors were locked, then she went through the house and checked them all again.
    “It’s not real, you know,” Heather said, following her round. “It’s just a load of old guys getting a buzz out of giving us a scare. “You can’t really believe this.”
    Alison pressed her lips together tightly and carried on testing the latch on Heather’s window.
    “You realise you’re being totally OCD, don’t you?”
    Alison turned round. “Look, I may be being totally OCD, but even if there is no Mantequero, and I admit it’s very unlikely, something happened to Miss Blacker and it looks like it was very unpleasant at the least, possibly lethal. It won’t do any harm to lock up.”
    “It’s just . . .” Heather bit her lip, “I don’t want to spend my holiday in a state of paranoia. I was just beginning to enjoy it.”
    Tears sprang up in Alison’s eyes. “Oh, I’m so sorry Heather. After you’ve been so kind and done so much to help me afford it. I really am. I’ll try to be more relaxed.” She gave Heather a fierce hug.
    “It’s OK. It’s all right, baby. It is worrying. I’m worried, too. But I’m still buggered if I can work out what happened.”
     
    Oddly, Alison had no trouble sleeping that night. Whether it was because she had very little sleep the night before, or simply the reassurance of being absolutely sure she’d locked all the windows and doors, she closed her