Hunted (19 page)

For the first time Ryan felt really scared. The lascivious smile Orion gave made him sick to his stomach.

“My friend here has been keen to taste her after he watched you fucking like animals on your kitchen table,” added Actaeon.

“So you’re not the big hunters after all?” Ryan spat, struggling to keep his voice even and measured. “You’re just cowards who like hurting women. Where’s the sport in that?”

“We’ve done our research and we know your wife is no ordinary woman. She’s a murderess, a gang boss as well as a woman more than capable of holding her own in a fight. She’s fair game. But your two boys, now they’re a different matter.”

“You’ll leave my kids alone.”

“I would be content to, as long as you behave yourself. But should you continue to misbehave and be a general smart arse then I will take them and leave them on the moor. I won’t bother to hunt them, far too small. They’d die of exposure long before anyone found them. I wouldn’t touch your daughter though. No, I’d leave her alive with no parents and no brothers, all alone.”

Ryan’s chest heaved with anger and he thought he might throw up. His mind frantically worked. Rachel and his kids would be well protected. Battler and Bruiser would be looking after them. Rachel would have called Mikey and Jez, they’d be down here already, they’d be keeping them all safe. These creeps wouldn’t get their hands on them, but he wasn’t about to take the chance. “Alright, you win. I’ll play your game as long as you leave them alone.”

“Good Prey, I knew you’d see sense,” said Actaeon, clapping him on the shoulder. “Now, you need to keep up your strength. You need to eat.”

Ryan watched suspiciously as he walked over to what turned out to be a fridge and removed a plate of food with some cling film over it. He threw the collection of green beans and meat into a small frying pan, which he put on the camping stove. The delicious smell from the cooking food making Ryan’s mouth water. When it was done Actaeon placed the meat, which had turned grey during the cooking process, onto a plate and proceeded to slice it into delicate medallions then added the green beans.

The plate was placed on the floor before Ryan, who had to sit cross-legged to eat. Actaeon handed him a plastic knife and fork and there was just enough give in the chains to allow him to raise the cutlery to his lips.

Just as he was about to put some of the meat into his mouth Ryan hesitated, the eager way Actaeon and Orion were watching disturbing him. He looked around at the animal’s heads on the walls. Hunters often consumed what they killed. When his eyes settled on the hands on the wall he dropped the cutlery and kicked the plate away, scattering the meat and vegetables all over the floor.

“You sick bastards, you fucking sick bastards. Who is that?” he yelled, gesturing at the meat.

“John Owen. Young flesh, nice and tender,” said Actaeon, rolling the words around his mouth, savouring them.

“You’re fucking cannibals,” he exclaimed, appalled. Not even Frankie McVay would have gone that far. This was the most fucked up thing that had ever happened to him and that was going up against some pretty stiff competition. “I’m not eating it.”

“Oh dear,” said Actaeon. “In that case we’ll have to take the issue up with your wife.”

“No, leave her alone,” he bellowed, getting to his feet, frantically yanking against the chains.

“I warned you but you decided to ignore me.” Actaeon unlocked the metal cabinet, removed the tranquiliser rifle and slung it over his shoulder. “You’ll be reunited soon.”

“No don’t, I’ll eat it,” said Ryan desperately.

“Too little too late. You had your chance Prey and we don’t give second chances.”

“Actaeon, get back here,” Ryan roared as he and Orion left, both looking intolerably smug. “Come back.”

But they disappeared through the wooden door set into the wall on Ryan’s right. He listened to the sound of them locking it behind them. Then followed footsteps ascending. There was obviously a staircase through there. The sound was dull, wood again. That explained his bruised back, they’d probably struggled getting him down here, bouncing him off each step.

“Fuck,” he spat, kicking the wall. All he could do was stand there helplessly as those freaks went after Rachel. But they wouldn’t get near her he reasoned, no way. She’d be well guarded, the family would have made sure of that. As soon as she’d realised he was missing she would have called them all together. His girl was smart. Still, if she did think he’d been kidnapped by a pair of serial killers she might not consider she was in danger, after all they targeted men.

Ryan screwed his eyes tight shut in an effort to calm down. Standing here was doing no one any good, he had to escape.

He knelt down to examine his chains. Solid metal bolted to the floor. There wasn’t an ounce of give in them. Instead he turned his attention to the metal cuffs on his wrists. Same again, absolutely solid. These guys knew what they were doing.

There were tools and weapons all around the hide that might have helped him escape but no matter how hard he strained he couldn’t reach any of them, the cuffs biting into the flesh of his wrists until he started to bleed, the skin torn and painful.

He sank to his knees, the sense of helplessness unbearable. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he yelled to the empty room. Never in all his life had anyone got the better of him like this and now he’d been completely subdued by two flesh-eating loony tunes. He glanced at the meat on the floor which, at first sight, had been so appealing to him. The mortal remains of John Owen, he couldn’t get his head round it.

“Rachel, you’d better be protected. Please,” he whispered.

CHAPTER 21

“Jesus, you stink,” frowned Jez.

Mikey stood before him, arms held out at his sides, expensive shoes and trousers dripping with manure. “I slipped in a fucking cow pat. The place is full of them.”

“How come we keep ending up on farms?” said Jez, thinking of the setting for their final showdown with Alex.

“Don’t know but I never want to go near one again. Dirty, nasty, smelly places. Look at my suit, it’s Armani. Did you just fucking laugh?” scowled Mikey.

“You’d have done the same if it was me.”

“True,” he was forced to admit. “This is a waste of time, Ryan’s not here.”

“I think you’re right. We’ve checked every outbuilding as well as the house and the family will be back soon. Let’s do one so you can take a bath.”

“Rachel won’t be happy about me getting in her Mercedes covered in cow shit.”

“Walk back then,” said Jez.

Mikey thought twice. “She’ll understand.”

When they arrived at the car Jez turned to look back up the road to the Marsh’s farm. “I thought we might find him there, it’s perfect for stashing a hostage.”

“Rachel said she didn’t really believe they had him, but we had to check.”

“Do you think this is a waste of time?” said Jez anxiously. “What if he’s in Essex and we’re arsing about here?”

“If he is there then our men will find him.” They jumped into the car, Mikey cringing as he made a loud squelching sound, grinding the manure into the expensive upholstery. “Thank God the seats are leather.”

As they set off back to Rachel’s house, Mikey driving, Jez’s phone rang. “It’s Grant,” he said before answering. “Yeah?”

He nodded then repeated what Grant told him to Mikey. “They’ve been watching the Slatterys and Katia. No sign of Ryan but Jared did take a flight to Manchester.”

“Bastard,” yelled Mikey, slamming his fist down on the steering wheel, cracking the plastic in the centre. “Oh shit.”

“He doesn’t know what he was doing in Manchester, he was only gone a few hours. He’s back already.”

“He couldn’t have been abducting Ryan from Devon if he was in Manchester,” said Jez.

“Unless he got someone else to do it?” said Mikey.

“Grant says all his men were in Essex. It doesn’t look like it’s them. They’ve got Katia in their sights. Do we want them to take her out?”

Mikey sighed. He’d wanted to do things subtlety but this was a good chance. “I think we should do it, but no weapons. Try and make it look like an accident.”

Jez nodded, thought for a moment then relayed his orders. Mikey smiled. His plan was a good one.

Rachel screwed her nose up when Jez and Mikey walked into her kitchen, entering via the back door so they wouldn’t tramp mud everywhere.

“Find anything?” she said.

Mikey hated the hope in her eyes because he knew he was about to destroy it. “Sorry Rach, no sign of him. We looked everywhere.”

“Oh well, I didn’t think he really would be up there. What is that smell?”

“Mikey fell in cow shit,” said Jez.

“Upstairs for a bath right now before you stink the whole house out. You can borrow some of Ryan’s clothes then give me your clothes and I’ll put them through the wash.”

“Okay.” He hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. “Your car’s going to need a good valet and I’m sorry but I cracked the plastic on the steering wheel, I’ll pay you for the damage.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, sinking into a chair at the kitchen table, disappointed. She had hoped they’d find something up at the Marsh farm.

While Mikey headed upstairs Jez sat beside Rachel and took her hand. “We’ve had word from Grant. They don’t think Ryan is in Essex.”

“That’s a relief. I’d hate to think what Katia and the Slatterys would do to him.” She sighed and shook her head. “God, I don’t know how much longer I can take this.”

“We’ll find him Rach, I promise.”

She gripped onto his hand. “I know, you found me often enough. I need a drink.” She got up and took a bottle of white wine out of the fridge. “Want one?”

“Go on then, just to take the edge off.”

She returned to the table and poured them out a glass each. “I don’t want to know what you intend to do about Katia but I do have to ask, is she still a threat to us? Please give me an honest answer.”

“Yes she is,” he replied unflinchingly. “But you won’t have to worry about her for much longer.”

Rachel nodded her approval and took a thoughtful sip of wine.

“Jules was keeping Leighton Parker locked up in the cellar of his own house.”

Rachel spluttered into her wine. “What?”

“Mikey found out, he’d been suspicious for a while. She’d had him there two years, cut up his face and kept him locked in a cage in the cellar where he’d kept the girls he abused, as well as Jules herself. The weird thing is she couldn’t bring herself to kill him, even though she wanted to. Mikey had to put him out of his misery.”

“Bloody hell.”

“Messed up eh?”

“Yes, very. How has she taken his death?”

“Not good at first, she went on a bit of a rampage but I think she’s in control now. Why do you look so angry?” he said when her eyes turned black.

“When I asked Mikey to bring her up here he never mentioned this.”

“Does it make a difference?”

“Course it fucking does. I’ve got someone whose grieving and messed up looking for my husband.”

“Rach, she can handle this.”

“She’s not thinking straight,” she yelled, throwing back her chair as she shot to her feet, knocking it over. “God knows what mistakes she’ll make.”

“What are you doing?” he said when she picked up the phone.

“Calling Battler and telling him to take her straight to the airport.”

Jez snatched the phone from her hand.

“Give me that back,” she spat.

“Listen to me Rach. You wanted her here because she has certain skills and you were right, she can help.”

“What if she fucks it up and takes us further from Ryan?”

“She won’t. I spoke with her before we got on the plane. She was different, calmer.”

“You said she went on the rampage,” she said furiously.

“When Leighton first died. Mikey did him right in front of her. But she calmed down, she even saw a therapist, who made her realise her life is better without him. She was so calm I even invited her to my house for dinner. Do you think I’d let her anywhere near Cathy and our kids if I thought she was unbalanced?”

His calm disposition, so like Ryan’s, started to pacify her. “I suppose not.”

“Trust me Rach and trust Mikey. We wouldn’t have let her near this if we didn’t think she could handle it.”

“Okay, I’ll give her a chance, but only because she has your support. But know this, if she fucks this up and Ryan ends up dead or badly hurt because of her then I will kill her.”

“Sounds fair to me. Come here,” he said, pulling her into a hug. “We’re going to get him back, I swear to you Rach. You know Ryan, he’s probably already making whoever took him regret their decision.”

“I want him back Jez,” she whispered, wrestling with her tears.

“We all do,” he said gently, “and we’ll find him, promise.”

Jules had been standing outside the spa Ryan had disappeared from in silence for a full five minutes.

“Do you think she’s okay?” Battler asked his brother as they leaned against his car, watching.

Bruiser frowned and shook his head before twirling his finger around his right temple, indicating he thought she was nuts.

“True. This has gone on long enough, we’re wasting time. Jules,” he called, walking over to her. “Found anything?”

She stared into the air for a bit longer before slowly nodding. “It’s not one man, it’s two.”

“Two? The police have found nothing to indicate this was the work of two men. He waited in the woods, my men found the spot he hid in. There was only evidence of one man, alone.”

“Your men and the police aren’t as good at their jobs as I am. Yes, there was only one man in the woods. The other was out here, on the car park. Two men - one to knock him out, the other to drive the getaway vehicle.”

“No one could sneak up on Ryan.”

“Normally I’d agree with you but these two are smart, very smart. You wonder why no one saw Ryan or any of the other victims being abducted?”

“Yes,” he sighed impatiently.

“Because they weren’t here.”

“What the bloody hell are you on about woman?”

“No one snuck up on Ryan and no one approached him. This was done from a distance. Show me where the first man waited.” With that she plunged into the undergrowth between the spa and the car park.

Battler turned and nodded at his brother to follow him as he plunged in after her. There was no way he was disappearing into the undergrowth alone with her. He didn’t know whether she’d kill him or sexually assault him.

“Here,” said Battler after walking a few metres into the shade of the trees. “Twigs broken underfoot, grass flattened. He didn’t leave anything behind though, unfortunately.”

“The police found just a few drops of blood,” Jules said as she studied the spot the abductor had crouched in. “Not enough for a gun or a knife. Ryan was shot with a tranquiliser dart. They have a range of up to seventy yards. That explains the blood, a couple of drops from a dart syringe embedding itself in his flesh. He hits the ground, the man waiting here sneaks out and the accomplice pulls up in the abduction vehicle, probably a van, blocking the view of Ryan from anyone who might drive into the car park. No one questions a white van, everyone just assumes they’re making a delivery and the staff in the spa can’t see anything because the glass is heavily tinted so the posh bastards inside aren’t disturbed by the real world while they’re enjoying their fancy treatments. Plus one man would struggle manoeuvring someone of Ryan’s size into a vehicle alone.” She paused, looking around breathlessly, thrilled by the hunt.

“I don’t know,” said Battler. “This all sounds a bit Hollywood and how would they know no one else would be around?”

“Because they’ve watched Ryan and the spa for weeks. This is the staff car park, so no customers would be here, their car park is on the opposite side of the building. They also knew there wouldn’t be any shift changes until five o’clock.” She straightened up, brushing moss off her jeans. “There’s only one way to prove it. I need to see the other abduction sites.”

“There’s a problem with that. We don’t know where the other victims were taken from.”

“What, none of them?”

“Well, maybe two.”

Jules got to her feet. “Show me.”

Battler and Bruiser were almost smug as Jules looked up and down the street.

“No trees here,” called Battler cheerfully. On one side were a row of shops, on the other a large pub with a beer garden outside, which was in full use thanks to the warm Saturday afternoon. The county had endured a few days of rain so they were all making the most of the sunshine. A few of the customers watched her with amusement as she stood in the middle of the road, giving the finger to the cars that blared their horns as they drove by, forced to go round her.

“Which victim was taken from here?” she said.

“Peter Everill, the fourth man to disappear,” replied Battler. “He came out of the bakers here where he worked, he’d just finished his shift,” he said, pointing to the shop behind them.

“What time?”

“Seven thirty. He’d stayed late to do some cleaning.”

“Was that his regular habit?”

“Yeah.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Four years.”

Jules looked across at the pub and smiled. “That looks pretty new to me.”

“Ah,” said Battler, realisation dawning.

They strode after her across the road, the occupants of the beer garden appearing very excited about the loony who had been standing in the middle of the road coming into the pub. One man even gave her a wolf whistle as she passed by but she didn’t even hear him, her mind too busy churning.

She pushed her way to the bar, ignoring the protests of those waiting to be served.

“Oy you,” she said, pointing at the barman. “When was this pub built?”

“What?” he called back, looking harassed.

“When was this pub built? It’s a perfectly simple question.”

“If you could answer her we’d be very grateful,” said Battler politely, the line at the bar parting before the bulk of the brothers.

“Alright, for you Battler. Two years ago if it’s that important.”

“What was it before then?”

“Just waste ground.”

“Trees and bushes?” said Jules.

“Yeah, I think so.”

Jules turned to face the brothers triumphantly. “See, I’m right.”

“You might be,” said Battler grudgingly.