Read When Night Closes in Online
Authors: Iris Gower
When Night Closes in
Lowri was happier than she had ever been. A romantic weekend away with her brand-new fiancé Jon was proving just the break they both needed - until he disappeared from their bedroom, leaving nothing behind but a terrifying mystery. For Lowri soon discovered that the man she thought she had known and loved was a very different person to the reality â particularly when she met his wife, Sarah. And the police naturally treated Lowri as the prime suspect in what they assumed to be a murder case.
More evidence came to light of Jon's double life, and Lowri wondered whom she could trust. She began to doubt her work colleagues, her friends, even her family. As the net tightened around the man she had thought she loved, she realised that her own life was in terrible danger . . .
A tense and exciting story of fraud, blackmail, jealousy and passion from the author of
Firebird
.
Contents
Iris Gower
To my dear friend Joan Barratt, with love and thanks for always being there.
Anita Pugh and John Lahane, computer buffs.
Lowri Richards was aware of the heat, of the sensuous feel of the sun on her near-naked body, and as she settled herself more comfortably in the padded recliner her silk robe fell open, allowing the sunshine to bathe her legs. It was completely private on the balcony of the Swan Hotel and Lowri turned up the sound on her Walkman. Below her, the tide washed in against the shore from the Bristol Channel, a soft soothing sound that heightened the state of euphoria that came with the afterglow of lovemaking. She slept.
She woke to the chill of the late August night. The sun had long since disappeared and the balcony was in deep shadow. Below her the sea was invisible, except for the strip of phosphorescent light at the shoreline. The nightmare had come to plague her again; why now, when she was so happy?
She tried to rise. Her limbs felt leaden, her mouth was dry, unnaturally dry. Surely she had not drunk that much whisky? She felt again the sense of impending doom that always came after the nightmare and shivered. Usually she could shake it off almost on waking, but now it hung over her like a black cloud.
Lowri stretched her arms above her head, breathing in the night air, trying to focus her mind. She smiled as she thought of Jon, who was probably asleep in the room behind her. Or was he waiting until she woke, ready to snatch her into his arms and make passionate love to her again?
She realized she was shivering, and as she fumbled with the sliding doors of the balcony she felt the cold of the stone floor beneath her feet. It suddenly struck her as strange that Jon should leave her to sleep out on the balcony for so long.
The door slid open and Lowri stepped into the warmth of the bedroom. The mirror on the old-fashioned dressing-table reflected a little light but once the balcony curtains closed behind her, the room was plunged into darkness. Lowri edged forward, her bare foot coming in contact with her overnight bag.
She almost fell as she cannoned into the bedside table and the water jug rattled against a glass. Lowri smelled whisky, strong and pungent, and immediately remembered lying in Jon's arms as he poured the amber liquid onto her breasts, licking it off eagerly as he took her nipple into his mouth.
Everything was strangely quiet and she hesitated, trying to see into the darkness.
âJon?' The room felt empty and yet Lowri had the eerie feeling that she was being watched.
âJon, where are you, darling?' There was no answer and the silence was unnerving. She tried again. âJon!' Her tone was sharper now. Something was wrong, the lights should be on, Jon should be showering, pouring another drink, anything. She felt the bed with her knees; as she touched it, she knew it was empty.
She reached up to find the switch and light flooded the room. No sign of him. Lowri tried to breathe deeply. It was silly to panic; Jon had obviously slipped out for some reason and would be back soon. Then why was she so apprehensive?
She looked round the room: it appeared soulless, unoccupied. The bed was neatly made. Frowning, Lowri opened the wardrobe door where Jon had hung his jacket. It was gone. So was his overnight bag. She had seen him stow his belongings away only hours ago, resisting the urge to tell him that his jacket was crooked on the hanger.
âWhere is he?' Her voice sounded strangely loud in the emptiness of the room. She hurried towards the bathroom; it was as pristine as the bedroom. No sign of Jon's shaving-tackle, no toothbrush, nothing.
âHe's gone!' she said in disbelief. âHe has really gone.'
She sat on the bed and shivered. âJon, why are you doing this to me?' Her voice was a wail of despair. She looked down at her fingers: she was still wearing the beautiful ring Jon had given her earlier in the day. She believed the ring was a symbol of his love, so why on earth would he walk out on her?
Something must have happened to him. Jon would never walk away from her without a word; it was just not in his nature. She reached for the phone and dialled reception. âMiss Richards here, has anyone checked out of the hotel in the last few hours?'
The voice was smooth, masculine. âNo-one has checked out, not officially, madam.'
âWhat do you mean, officially?'
âI mean no bill has been settled.'
Lowri panicked â something was badly wrong. âAll right, did you see anyone leaving the hotel carrying a bag? His name is Jon Brandon. A tall man with dark hair, very good-looking, you couldn't miss him.'
âI don't really concern myself with the guests' comings and goings, madam. So long as the bill is paid before all parties vacate the room I mind my own business.'
âGet me the manager.' Lowri was trembling with fear and frustration. âI want to speak to the manager right now.'
âYou are speaking to the manager, madam. I'm Mr Peters.'
Lowri gritted her teeth and stared at the phone as though she hated it. âWell then, Mr Peters, perhaps you will answer my questions and stop being such a tight arse!'
She heard a sniff at the other end of the line. And then a click and the line went dead. She immediately redialled. âIf you don't get up here right now, I'm calling the police!' she shouted.
âNo need for that, madam. In any case, you would need to obtain an outside line. Now, keep calm and I will be with you as soon as I can.'
Lowri slammed down the phone and got to her feet and walked restlessly around the room. Her mind was racing with questions, questions that seemed to have no answer. In a few minutes that seemed to drag on for hours, there was a discreet tapping at the door.
The manager was steely-eyed behind his glasses. âI don't know what I can do for you, madam.' He inclined his head. âI understand your . . . your companion has left?'
âDon't patronize me!' Lowri said. âYou must know if a man has checked out tonight or not. Is it too much to ask that you confirm that for me?'
âAs I told you on the phone, no-one has checked out and if this man has gone, he didn't think to appraise me of his departure.' His eyes narrowed. âI do hope this is not a ploy to avoid paying your bill.'
âOf course it isn't!' Lowri said, attempting a conciliatory tone. She would get nowhere if she continued to antagonize Mr Peters. âI'm just worried, Jon would never walk out on me like that, something is wrong.'
She saw the manager glance around the room, at the freshly made bed, at the table holding a whisky bottle, a jug of water and . . . there was only one glass. Lowri frowned. What was happening, was she going mad?
âI think I should ask you to settle your bill at once, madam,' the manager was saying. âI would be obliged if you would . . .' he hesitated, âget some clothes on and come to reception and settle up.'
He looked at her skimpy wrap with a grimace of distaste. He had summed her up and found her wanting. His next words came as a blow.
âIt might be better if you left at once.' Mr Peters looked down at her overnight bag. âI see you have not unpacked. That's all to the good. I shall expect you in reception in ten minutes. I will have your bill ready.'
Lowri began to panic. She had left her credit cards at home. After all, Jon had said he was paying.
The manager read her expression. âNo money.' He sighed.
Lowri felt fear tingle along her spine. âI don't care what you say, Jon would not just vanish. I want the police brought in, in fact I insist on it!'
âThere's no need for that, I assure you!' the manager said quickly. âIf you don't have enough cash with you, just give me proof of identification and your address and you can put a cheque in the post as soon as you get home.'
âLook, Jon is missing, something has happened to him, you must get the police. If you don't phone them, I will.'
âJust be calm, madam, I'm sure it will all sort itself out in due course.'
âI want the police!' Lowri was aware she sounded like a spoiled child but she no longer cared. Panic was racing through her. Jon must be ill, must have suffered a brainstorm or met with an accident.
Reluctantly, Mr Peters picked up the phone and Lowri could hear him instructing someone on reception to call the police.
She sank onto the bed. She would have to report Jon missing, he could not have vanished into thin air, but where on earth was he? Only a few hours ago she had been warm in his arms and now she was alone with the manager, who was staring at her as if she was a crazy woman. She shivered suddenly. The room in which she and Jon were to spend a happy weekend together had begun to feel like a prison.
âThis man you say you were with, what's his name again?' The manager was looking down his pinched nose at her.
âJon, Jon Brandon, you must know it, he made the booking.'
âI don't think so, miss. You signed in yourself, at least you did if your name is Lowri Richards.'
He was right, she had signed in while Jon fetched the bags from the boot of the car. The car â it must be still at the entrance to the hotel.
âHis car must still be outside,' she said. Mr Peters shrugged.
âIf the gentleman has left, he's probably taken his car with him.' He smiled a little maliciously. âWe are quite remote here, as you no doubt realize.'
âHe couldn't ditch me here without transport, it's just not like him,' she protested. But then perhaps it was exactly like him. Just how well did she know Jon? Questions ran round in her head until she felt she was going mad.
It seemed an eternity before the police arrived. Meanwhile, the manager stood in the doorway, arms folded across his thin chest, as though afraid she would make a run for it.
The uniformed officer who finally stepped into the room seemed weary, as if he had been on his feet all day. âWhat's happened here?' He glanced towards Lowri.
âMiss Richards says her companion, Mr Jon Brandon, has left. He hasn't paid the bill.' Mr Peters got in first.
The police officer threw the man a glance. âI would like Miss Richards to answer the question herself, sir, if it's all right by you.'