Jim bundled out into the bright, cold, late morning light.
He had tried not to make his act of following too obvious or rushed, attempting
to sidle out unnoticed. Consequently he estimated the three people would be
about thirty seconds ahead of him, but moving far slower than he was. As he
pulled up he looked left and right, rocking his head to view past the few
pedestrians on the pavement. Across the road the car park was empty of people,
just rows of haphazardly parked cars. An uneasy feeling washed through his
stomach as he realised that the trio were nowhere to be seen.
As Sam flew out of the entrance he was greeted by the
ginger-haired Sergeant scouring the road in all directions.
‘Which way?’ he asked, joining in the search.
‘Dunno, I’ve only just gotten out here myself. I thought
they would be stood by this door,’ replied Jim. Sam stared hard to his right.
‘Were there any vehicles pulling away, when you came out?’
he asked. Jim thought hard, trying to remember exactly what he had seen and
heard.
‘Not that I can remember, but I can’t rule it out,’ he
replied.
‘Balls,’ exclaimed Sam, realising that somehow they had
lost the three people last seen walking slowly to the exit.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright Ray Sullivan 2011
The characters, places and events described in this novel are fictitious and any resemblance to persons, places or events, past or present, is coincidence. All rights reserved
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