Electric Light (Blair Dubh Trilogy #3) by Heather Atkinson Page B

said before pulling the trigger.
    Her body jumped then went still, a single drop of blood oozing from the small hole in her forehead.
    Graeme’s body sagged as sudden exhaustion sought to claim him. It had all happened so fast, there had hardly been time to think and the shock of it made him unaccountably sleepy. Sometimes he felt like this after an impulsive kill. It was as though the sheer speed and surprise of it all sapped his energy. But there wasn’t time for rest, he had so much work to do. The long night ahead stretched out before him, making him feel even more lethargic.
    A growl of thunder overhead soon snapped him out of it. The storm was closer now, the energy crackling in the air re-energising him. He looked down at the bodies and sighed. So young. It amazed him how quickly evil could claim the innocent.
    He looked around to make sure no one had seen him but the graveyard was deserted. No one came here anymore, except for the odd hardy soul like Nora Donaldson, who regularly tended to the grave of her husband as well as those of Freya’s dead parents. Not many had her courage, they all thought it was a haunted place belonging only to the dead. Toby and his tour groups were regular visitors here too but Graeme, after careful monitoring of them through his binoculars, had noted that not even they stayed long. After taking photos of the graves of Logan and Lynch and their victims they quickly hastened away as the shadows moved in, telling them with their dark presence to get out of their territory, the living weren’t welcome.
    Graeme left as quietly as he’d come, leaving the bodies lying on Logan’s grave. By the time anyone found them he’d be long gone.

CHAPTER 9
     
    The residents of the village were reluctant to leave the sanctuary of the pub. Although Adam’s body had been carted away and the police had left they felt secure remaining where they were, there was safety in numbers after all. Just one look outside into the gathering darkness, brought on prematurely by the storm that was gaining in intensity, was enough to make every one of them reject the idea of departing and just order another drink from the bar instead. Gordon wasn’t in any rush to evict them either, he was raking it in and he’d never been one to stick to the official closing hours.
    They were discussing happier, more hopeful things. They’d exhausted every possible avenue about what Adam had done and now instead they remembered Fred and Joanie, sharing the good memories they had of them, the rest of the pub listening as one by one they took turns reciting treasured little anecdotes. The two tourists were slumped in a corner looking bored, realising murder up close wasn’t as entertaining as they’d thought. Everyone was shiny-faced with sweat as the humidity rose but in contrast to the storm gathering outside the atmosphere inside was calm and quiet, the voices gentle and subdued. The adrenaline and fear was draining out of everyone, soothed by the camaraderie of old friendships and the comfort of long-loved faces.
    When the door banged open they all raised a cheer. Jimmy entered, his injured arm bandaged and held in a sling, followed by Lizzy and Jeanette.
    “Welcome back,” said Bill, holding his hand out for Jimmy to shake.
    Jimmy looked from his injured arm to Bill with a raised eyebrow and his friend lowered his hand.
    “Sorry, that was a stupid thing to do.” Instead Bill clapped him on the shoulder. “Let me buy you a pint.”
    “Oh no he doesn’t, he’s on painkillers,” said Lizzy. “He’ll have an orange juice.”
    “If I can’t have a pint after I’ve been shot then what’s the world coming to?” frowned Jimmy.
    “Fine, drink your pint if you want to make yourself ill,” she huffed, folding her arms across her large bosom.
    Jimmy gave Gordon a hangdog look. “I’ll have an orange juice.”
    “I’ve got some alcohol-free lager if you want?” said Gordon. “I was reliably informed by the big