Scaderstone Pit (The Darkeningstone Series Book 3) Read Online Free

I looked back at the uniformed woman, she was sitting back in her chair, her arms folded across her chest. “I think you have had a misunderstanding.”
    “But—” I started.
    “They say they were sent from the hotel to collect you. It is a courtesy, yes?”
    I shook my head. “They were lying. I’m sure of it.”
    The woman looked me up and down then pursed her lips. “I can call the gendarmes if you wish, but I do not think they will be pleased to come for this…” she frowned as though searching for the right word then shook her head. “Those men, they have gone now. There is no problem. Perhaps you would like to take a taxi to your hotel.”
    I ran my hand through my hair. Perhaps she was right. I was sure I’d done the right thing in running from the men, but now that they’d gone, I couldn’t prove a thing. If the police were called, I’d have to wait for them, and then I’d have to give some sort of statement. It could take hours, and I really had no idea what I’d say to them. “OK,” I said. “I’ll just wait a minute, and then I’ll take a taxi.”
    The woman nodded and pointed across the ticket hall. “There is a machine for coffee over there. Perhaps you need something.”
    “Thanks.” I walked over to the coffee machine, certain that the woman was watching me all the way. But when I looked back, she was talking on the telephone and hunched over her desk as though she were writing something down.
    I pulled out a handful of change and searched through the unfamiliar coins until I found the right number of euros. My schoolboy French was just good enough to understand the instructions on the machine, and I selected a black coffee. The machine whirred into life and as I watched the dark brown liquid steam and sputter into the paper cup, I replayed the last 10 minutes in my mind. What the hell just happened? Could it really have been a misunderstanding? The ticket seller had been convinced. And on the face of it, the men’s explanation was plausible enough. But if my dad had booked the car he would surely have told me. There was a chance that the hotel had sent the car without telling my dad. They’d have known when I was due to book in and they could easily have checked the train timetable. And since the man had known my name, it seemed like he must’ve come from the hotel.
    But something wasn’t right. The driver hadn’t looked like a man who worked in a small town hotel. There was something about the way he was dressed, the way he held himself: like a military man. And when I’d swung my bag at him, he’d dropped into a fighting stance in the blink of an eye. And the so-called passenger had been physically imposing: a brute of a man. It made me shiver just to think what might’ve happened if I’d climbed into their car.
    I took my coffee and sipped it. It was bitter, harsh, and still too hot, but I swallowed it anyway, feeling it burn its way down my throat. “I don’t know,” I muttered. “I just don’t know.” I drank some more coffee, and this time it didn’t taste so bad.
    I kept my eye on the station’s entrance. There was no sign of the men, but even so, I didn’t feel safe. True, I may have over-reacted and made a mistake. After all, I was tired, hungry, and disoriented. But no matter which way I thought about it, the driver’s story still didn’t add up. If his passenger was simply another customer, why had both men chased after me and followed me into the station? And why had they seemed so serious, so intense? I’d been certain that they meant me harm.
    I finished my coffee and crumpled the paper cup before tossing it into a waste bin. Then I did what I should have done straight away. I took out my phone and called my dad.
    I’d had plenty of time on the train to set my phone to roam, and signal strength was good. He answered quickly as if he’d been expecting my call.
    “Hey, Jake. How’s it all going? Did you get to the hotel yet?”
    “It’s all right,