Her Vampyrrhic Heart Read Online Free

something crushed it.’ Tom handed the canister back.
    â€˜What do you think it’s for?’
    Tom shrugged. ‘Could be from a weather balloon. Are you going to hand it in?’
    â€˜To the police? Nah. Kit’s good with this kind of thing.’
    â€˜Kit Bolter?’
    â€˜Yeah. Kit’ll find out what it’s for.’ Owen grinned. ‘Don’t you love a mystery?’
    â€˜I used to.’
    Owen shook the device.
    â€˜Make sure that thing doesn’t blow up in your face,’ Tom told him. ‘RAF jets practise bombing runs over the moor.’
    â€˜A bomb? You really think so?’ Owen smartly tapped the canister against a tree. ‘Shit, it’s a dud.’
    â€˜Very funny.’
    â€˜Are you having dinner with us on Sunday?’
    Tom shook his head. ‘I’ve got a job checking a wharf downriver.’
    â€˜You never come across to see Mum and Dad these days.’
    â€˜Maybe next week.’ Tom continued walking as Owen pushed the canister back into the rucksack. ‘Let me know when you find out what your gizmo is.’ Although he didn’t really believe that the object contained explosive. If anything, it probably came from an old television or microwave oven. Some people aren’t ashamed at dumping crap in a national park.
    Owen laughed. ‘If you hear a loud bang a couple of hours from now you’ll know exactly what it is.’
    Before going their separate ways Owen looked Tom up and down and shook his head. ‘You know, anyone bumping into you out here is going to be scared witless. When they see you dressed in a black rubber suit they’ll think you’re either some kind of monster or nuts.’
    Tom tried to sound light-hearted. ‘There are more frightening things than me out here, Owen.’
    Owen laughed, taking the comment as a joke. ‘Yeah, monsters galore. See you later, Tom.’
    â€˜See you later, Owen.’
    Tom Westonby headed in the direction of home. As he walked he wondered what on earth he could do next in his search for Nicola Bekk.

SIX
    T om Westonby switched on the TV as he warmed up some chicken soup for lunch.
    Local news covered a major fraud case in Sheffield. A moment later, the scene changed to one of Whitby harbour. The newsreader spoke over stock footage of boats and a view of the famous swing bridge: ‘
In Whitby, the mystery of the woman who lost her memory, and whose boyfriend is currently missing, has yet to be solved. Local police found Rose Dawson wandering near the harbour in the early hours of Friday morning last week. Despite the cold weather, Miss Dawson was dressed only in a T-shirt and jeans. She had a cast on one leg as a result of breaking a bone in a recent accident. Miss Dawson is unable to remember how she came to be in Whitby or tell the police anything about the whereabouts of her boyfriend, Mr John Cantley. Anyone having information about the couple is asked to contact Whitby police.
’
    Tom Westonby turned off the TV and carried his soup into the lounge. He saw that a piece of paper had been pushed under the front door. Since he’d only used the back door after returning from the river, he hadn’t noticed it before now. He picked up the paper. Written there in forceful handwriting were the words:
    Mr Westonby. My name is June Valko. I need to speak to you urgently regarding events five years ago. I think we have many important issues in common that have impacted on our lives. Please call me as soon as you can. Believe me, this is important.
    A telephone number had been added to the bottom of the letter.
    Tom murmured, ‘Thanks, but no thanks.’ Crunching the paper into a ball, he threw it into the fireplace. A month didn’t go by when he wasn’t visited by self-appointed ghost hunters, vampire slayers and monster hunters. Tom would have nothing to do with them. Wouldn’t even listen to what they had to say. What engulfed his