The Kiss Of Death

Chapter 9

Lola sprawled the map across the table, the woman at the truck depot had been most obliging in helping her with a few maps of the local areas around their town. This one was of the greater area, showing several towns and cities. She huffed as she dumped the coffee cup onto the map, hissing when it spilt hot liquid over her hand. Lola wanted to crumple into a ball in the corner of the room and cry. She really felt something for Frank, and now he was gone, left without so much as a goodbye.

Instead, she was given the belief that he would meet her for lunch. Hope that something might eventuate, but all that was going to eventuate now was Lola finding Frank and her then proceeding to kick his arse. She pulled the photo out of her pocket, looking at the sweet children and their mother. They seemed reasonably happy in the image, though the clothing indicated they weren't exactly wealthy. It was old, Frank looked around five. They were standing in front of a bridge, almost like they were tourists. Lola opened her laptop and searched bridges, finding the one that matched it.

She thought that she had misread the name of the bridge. It wasn't possible, was it? Taylor Bridge. She searched the name, hoping to find a snippet of information. A link to a newspaper site showed the article, the same picture was to the left of the words along with a picture of a man that was a striking resemblance as Frank. It was clear this was his father.

"Taylor Bridge was initially going to be called the river link bypass until the untimely death of one of its workers at the opening gala. A sudden influx of people wanting to cross the bridge forced Frank Taylor Senior to fall to his death in the river below. Pictured is his wife Anne and their two children, Emma and Frank Junior."

Lola stared at the computer screen, wondering if she were to search this newspaper site for what happened to their mother if it would show them. She didn't think that it would be possible, but she did it anyway. It was a common name, and she figured it was why Frank and Emma hadn't bothered to fake their names. Several articles that mentioned women called Anne Taylor popped up, Lola checked them all until she came to one from eight years ago. It was an article dated the first of November, something that Lola thought was intriguing.

"Anne Taylor, widow, mother of two and resident of Queen Boulevard was found dead, circumstances not suspicious, but an autopsy will be carried out to determine the death as the coroner was unable to ascertain as to why Mrs. Taylor died. Police are yet to indicate whether this has anything to do with the long running debacle of Devil's Night that has plagued the city for the past five years. The children were found under the bed, fearful and malnourished. They will be placed into foster care until relatives are found."

Lola tapped the table as she mused about the date. After a sip of coffee, she quickly searched out the newspaper for the next year. She frowned at the screen, it had to be the most bizarre banner she had ever read.

"Prostitute drops dead."

The coffee was cast aside as Lola scrolled down, reading the article.

"The woman of approximately twenty years of age and unknown identity dropped to the ground with no visible complications. Police are baffled by the circumstances, a witness stated that she saw a small boy rush to the deceased moments before she fell and kissed her, scurrying back into the darkness before the woman had hit the ground. Searches conducted for the boy have resulted in nothing, police believe that the witness may have been hallucinating at the time. They have, however, released the description of the boy and ask that if anyone sees him, to notify them promptly. The boy is noted as approximately four feet, thin, looking malnourished. Scruffy brown hair and pale skin. He was wearing jeans, a black shirt, and no shoes."

Lola pursed her lips and marked the two women onto the map, their mother and the prostitute. They weren't so far from each other, it seemed that it might be possible that the small boy was Frank. She looked at the proximity between the prostitute and her town, making a list of all of the towns in between. It might take her all night, but she was going to search every single town's newspapers, for this particular day.

Lola lifted the mug from the map, a large circle of coffee had stained it. She frowned with a grin at the area it had marked, Spitalfields.

Lola didn't like to believe in omens or fate, she just lived her life one day at a time, but this was odd, to say the least. The pattern she had been forming was one of a slow move around the country, year by year she could plot a path based on newspaper articles. Odd unexplainable deaths, sightings of a ghost boy, and on occasion, there would be a young girl with him too. Most of the time, the police had shrugged it off as paranoia, drunken idiots who had no idea what they'd seen.

Lola didn't know why, but she was slightly relieved that Frank and Emma had managed to get away with it. People had died; from the reports they were all women too.

After hours of research, Lola was tired and in desperate need of sleep. She packed everything away for the night, storing it all on the bench under the phone.

Wearily she climbed the stairs and readied for bed. As she drew the curtains shut, Lola looked out onto the road. There was a car hidden in the darkness of the night. It was old and had a few dents in it, a rusted blue sedan that she knew had only one working headlight even though the lights weren't on. She knew who it belonged to, it was the car Bert used when he was on a stakeout. A car not registered in his name and was picked so that it could blend into the surroundings. That is if those that lived around here didn't know who it belonged to.

Lola shut the curtain and slipped down the stairs, retrieving her laptop, the maps, and notes she had made. It didn't take a genius to figure it out. She was being watched, and it was likely that Bert might make another impromptu visit. If she was home at the time, well, that might be lucky, if not, then so be it. She stuffed them into a bag and put them under her bed. What was she going to do? She couldn't go chasing after Frank and Emma with Bert watching. That might lead him to them, and she didn't want that. Why? She couldn't understand it completely but thought that it might have a lot to do with Frank. Barely any time has passed since she last saw him and already she missed him. It was worse knowing that she might never see him again.