Hell's Rayne (Book 1)

Chapter 24

The Travelodge, as it turned out, was already pretty full by the time we got there. There was some Cosmetics and Beauty seminar going on apparently – did such a thing even really exist? - and a lot of the rooms had been booked in advance for those attending. We did, eventually, manage to secure ourselves a twin room which was decent enough, albeit small. There wouldn't be a whole lot of time away from each other during this trip, both sharing that tiny space, but for all intents and purposes it was just somewhere to lay our heads. Plus it was clean, had its own bathroom with fully functional hot water, that was always a bonus, and Jesse was stupendously pleased to learn that the B&B had a bar.

We dumped our luggage in the room, neither of us planned on unpacking as that would mean we had designs on staying. Jesse, by that point, was keen to leave as soon after the funeral as possible but, while I did sympathise with this feeling, there was still the pressing issue of Jesse's corruption weighing down on my shoulders. We couldn't leave while that still hung as a loose end.

The way this case had dragged on I could almost have completely forgotten about my job and settled into this strange, dull human life I'd created for myself. I realised at a point during that 'family dinner' that I wasn't just going through the motions to fit in any more, rather it was the main point of my focus as my real reason for being there fell into the background as an afterthought. I needed to pull back my focus; settling into a human existence could never be an option, not when I could there would always be that other half of myself that wouldn't fit, the part that would crave Home.

We would have to stay a little longer once the funeral was over, just long enough for me to be certain that Eric was responsible for the death of his wife, and for me to convince Jesse to take his revenge on the man. I didn't much like to think on what might happen if Eric should turn out to be innocent; things were already complicated enough and that was a whole new can of worms I wouldn't open unless I really had to. I was confident I could convince Jesse to stay, I'd let him in on my plan and my suspicions, he was already thinking most of them himself so it should be an easy enough angle to work. Getting him to shed blood though? That might be more of a struggle.

We gave the room a cursory look over, deemed it good enough to stay in – hell, it was practically the Ritz compared to some of the places I'd stayed during the course of my working life – then, by Jesse's behest, headed straight for the bar. He intended to drink away his frustrations until closing time, and I had no objections in joining him. A little probing about Eric as the alcohol loosened his tongue wouldn't go amiss either, and if I could soften him up to the idea of vengeance some more, even better.

The bar itself was a fairly basic affair. Shabby green carpet with a fleur-de-lis pattern that was once so popular, press-board furniture that might have once looked good though now were old and worn, the dark wood veneer peeling and chipped. But it all matched, from the small round tables to the straight backed chairs and tall barstools. Even the mantelpiece that surrounded the flame effect gas fire fit in with the theme. Still the height of summer, the fire wasn't lit and I shivered in the gloom of the windowless, cave-like room and wished that it was.

Almost all of the tables were filled with people, making the room feel more claustrophobic. They were all suited and booted, a little too extravagant for a gathering in this simple little B&B, and they all wore sticky label name tags – the people attending the so-called seminar. Bypassing the one or two dingy tables still empty in the corners of the room, Jesse and I made straight for the bar. He hopped up onto a barstool and planted his elbows onto the scratched surface either side of a beermat. The action was so well practised that it was almost comical.

I took up a seat beside him and scanned the drinks on offer for a moment. I didn't have much of a head for alcohol, but usually couldn't go wrong with a glass of red so that is what I requested when Jesse asked what I'd like, whatever vintage they happened to be selling – I didn't anticipate there would be a wide range of choice. He ordered a bottle rather than a glass, got himself a pint of lager and set up a running tab with our room number rather than have to dig his wallet out for each new round. I was partially dreading the bill we'd end up paying on check-out if all of our nights ended up being spent like this, though, if productive, I could hope we'd have much more important matters to tend to.