The House of Wood by Anthony Price Page A

kind of documentation. But
there was nothing downstairs. Whoever owned the place hadn’t moved
any of their personal belongings in yet.
    Nathan decided it might be
upstairs. He was about to take a look, when the sound of crunching
gravel made his ears prick up. Shit, he thought. The workmen must
be back. There was no way he could get out of the house undetected;
they would have already seen his squad car, sitting there in the
drive way. Why had he been dumb enough to park in front of the
house? He fumed. Why had he bothered to come up here in the first
place? He’d been clutching at straws. David had absolutely no
connection to the house whatsoever. It was stupid to have hoped
otherwise.
    He ran back to the front door
and closed it behind him, hoping that he looked natural. The
workmen might have done him a favour.
    “Hey there deputy, can I help
you?” Jonathon called over, as he jumped out of his pick-up.
    “Hi Mr Kane. I was just
checking up on the place. We had a call about an hour ago, saying
there was some trouble up here.”
    “Oh, what kind of trouble? I
was in town, picking up some supplies. How did you get in? I made
sure the front door was locked when I left.”
    Nathan looked around, as
casually as he could. He spotted the broken upstairs window. “It
was a call about some kids throwing stones and damaging the
property. They must’ve broken in because the door was unlocked. I
was just checking to see if there had been any damage inside.”
    “And?”
    “It’s fine, there doesn’t seem
to be anything a miss.”
    Jonathon scratched his chin. “I
wonder who made the call. It wasn’t any of my boys, they’re off
today. I’m just up here doing a few bits and pieces. It’s not like
anybody else would have been walking past. You know what people
round here are like, they avoid this place like the plague.”
    “I know what you mean,” Nathan
replied. “After everything that’s happened, you wouldn’t think
somebody would want to re-build the place, let alone live in
it.”
    “Damn straight. It gives me the
creeps just having to work here.”
    This was it. His chance to find
answers.
    “Just out of interest Jonathon,
who does own this place now?”
    “Damned if I know.”
    “So you don’t know who you’re
working for?”
    “Nope. Everything’s being done
through a law firm representing the owner. It’s all very mysterious
if you ask me.”
    Damn it, Nathan thought. Why
wasn’t anything going right for him? The house was probably owned
by some businessman who wants to do it up and sell it on for a
profit. David probably couldn’t even afford a place like this. It
had all been for nothing. He was going to lose Rachel again. Maybe
she was better off that way?
    “Okay, well, let me know if
there’s any more trouble. It’s no doubt just kids pulling some dumb
prank. I best get back in to town.”
    “It’s good to see you, Nathan.
Thanks for coming to check it out. They’d have my hide, if the
place got damaged.”
    “No problem. Take it easy.”
    Nathan got back in to his squad
car. A flash of anger caused him to lash out at the steering wheel
before speeding off back in the direction of the town. The knawing
at the back of his brain had intensified. Screw it, he thought.
Time to pay Gloria a visit.
    ***
    Nathan left the squad car in
the street adjacent to Logan’s Bar, hoping that nobody would
realise it was his. He knew people talked about him and his
problem, but the less he gave them to gossip about the better.
    His hands were shaking as he
walked in to the stuffy bar and ordered himself a whiskey.
    “Hittin’ the hard stuff early
today aren’t we, Nate?” Gloria asked, pouring the brown liquid.
    “Rough day.”
    “Well honey, you ain’t gonna
make it any better, burying your face in a glass.”
    “Thanks for the advice,” Nathan
replied, taking his drink and moving over to a secluded table in
the corner.
    As he sat down, the cell phone
in his pocket began to vibrate.