Only the Brave (23 page)

2.00 A.M.

Allie was home at last. It was quiet, eerie even, as she retrieved her belongings from the back seat of the car; the only noise coming from a white van that had driven past and parked further up the street, its engine ticking over, its occupants probably saying goodbye. Drained and emotional, she tiptoed upstairs, desperate to see Mark. She opened the bedroom door, saw his familiar shape, his chest rising and dropping as he lay with his arms above his head, and closed it again quietly. She didn’t have the heart to wake him. What was the point going to bed anyway? She knew she would be restless and up again in a few hours. It wasn’t fair to disturb him.

In the kitchen, she made a quick sandwich and took it through to the living room. She was starving, hadn’t eaten anything substantial since lunchtime.

It was nearly twenty-four hours since she’d taken the call about the murder. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she would be visiting The Gables so soon.

Kirstie Ryder – she shuddered as she remembered the look she had given her across the interview room. Those eyes, as cold and as deceiving as her father’s, trying to read her every thought. And now all she could think about was Terry. She was so
nervous
about seeing him again, especially with Nick by her side. She
’d ha
ve to be careful what she said, ignore him, try not to rise to his bait. Because she had been foolish on the night she’d gone to visit him alone. It had been irresponsible of her, naive even. It still haunted her all the time.

He could have killed her in an instant.

If he had wanted to.

Going to see him again was like facing her demons straight on. But would the devil eat her alive and spit her out or would she climb out of the flames? She could see herself, three years ago, naive yet intrigued by this man whom everyone seemed to fall for. The women loved his sex appeal, the power he exuded; the men loved the danger of working with him, the lifestyle, the image, the whole caboodle.

Yet in some ways Terry Ryder was no more than the drugged-up layabouts who stood on the street corners of any sink estate, selling his wares, making his money illegally, getting others to do his dirty work so that he could stay out of prison and live the life of Riley. He had lived it up – but she, and her team, had put a stop to it. Just in the nick of time.

They hadn’t got everything yet but with each investigation, they became a little closer. She hoped they would ruin him before he was due out of prison, so that he would have one sentence rolled onto the next and never see the light of day again. At least while he was locked up they had better control of him, even if he did have people on the outside who were prepared to stick their necks out for him.

One day, sure enough, he would slip up.

The living room door opened and Allie was jolted out of her reverie as Mark appeared in the doorway.

‘Hey.’ She smiled as he sat down beside her, feeling herself blushing because she was thinking of Terry again. She leaned over to kiss him. ‘Sorry, did I wake you?’

Mark yawned and ran a hand through his hair. ‘Couldn’t settle without you home.’

‘You were snoring like a trooper when I came in.’

His smile was slight, lazy, but it was there.

‘How’s the case?’

Allie told him all she could, and a little of what she shouldn’t, knowing she could trust him with the details.

‘Tough day,’ he sympathised, pulling her towards him. ‘I really don’t know how you do it.’

‘But you mind a lot, don’t you?’ She nestled in the crook of his arm, flicked her feet up.

‘You work sensible hours most of the time. I suppose I can’t grumble. And I like my own company. I can watch what I want on the TV.’

Allie was glad he couldn’t see her face as her eyes brimmed with tears. ‘I was happy to keep my mind occupied. I’m dreading tomorrow in more ways than one.’

He held her closer for a moment. ‘I think it’s going to be tough all round.’

‘Did they say what time the tests would be back?’

‘They said they’d call when the consultant wanted to see us, save us hanging around. Well, when I say hanging around – they mean sitting for hours on end waiting for him. I gave them my number and asked them to call me first. Would you like me to hear the results and then let you know?’

‘Please, I don’t think I could handle that.’ She squeezed shut her eyes. Why was he always so good to her when she kept so much from him? She decided to come clean, no matter how much he would be hurt.

‘I have to go and see Terry Ryder in the morning,’ she said, sitting up and away from him.

Mark’s eyes had been closing again but they opened wide immediately. ‘In prison, you mean?’

‘Yes. Nick wants to question him about the case and he – he wants me to go with him.’

‘Why are you telling me now?’

She looked at him with so much love she feared she would burst. ‘Three years ago, I didn’t tell you about the first rose that was delivered to Karen. You were angry at the time when I had to see Ryder, when his wife was murdered. I didn’t want you to think . . . I don’t want to keep anything from you.’

The silence that followed became loaded. But she had to accept it, wait for his response.

‘Is there anything else you’re not telling me?’ he said
eventually
.

She shook her head.

Mark stood up, looked down at her for a moment and held out a hand. ‘It’s late, come to bed.’

She let him pull her up, kept hold of his hand while he turned out the lights, and followed him upstairs. Who knew, indeed, what the day would bring, but she had Mark. That was all she needed.

Fuck Terry Ryder.

She wouldn’t allow him to get under her skin again.

2.30 A.M.

Damn this investigation! He was finding it harder and harder to get near to Allie. Why couldn’t that Johnson fool have been offed next weekend? It would have been much more convenient. This was no job for a grieving woman to be doing.

It had broken his heart to watch her for the two weeks she had sat with her sister every day and night after she had been taken ill. She had barely moved from her side, and the hospital cafe had been a perfect place for him to sit unnoticed and watch the doorway. Allie was too busy, too full of dread and guilt, to notice anyone
watching her.

He hadn’t expected her to be up and out of the house so early this morning. It had thrown him at first. Leaving her road after seeing that her car wasn’t parked next to Mark’s, he’d been on his way to the hospital when he’d heard the news on the radio. Someone had been murdered – what terrible timing for her. He’d driven down Ford Green Road, excited to clap eyes on her, parked his car in a side street near to Harrison House and gone to see what was happening.

If Allie was at work, then he assumed that all must be well with Karen. He hadn’t wanted to go inside since he’d left the rose in the box. He couldn’t risk anyone stopping him seeing Allie this late in the game. Karen had been stable for three weeks now, but she could die at any moment.

He wondered if Mark was always happy about the long hours that Allie worked. Having an ambitious wife could go against the grain for some men. Not that he would mind, himself. He’d gladly support Allie if she were his wife. Although he would enjoy the role-play more – she could dress in her uniform and handcuff him to the bed any time that she saw fit. That thought spurred him on
tremendously
. Not long to wait now.

Looking down at his phone, he paused the video recording of the press conference on the tiny screen, not interested in the slightest in what the lead officer was saying. He ran a finger lightly over Allie’s figure. He had footage of her from the last case she’d worked on too – saved on DVD for him to look at on a 50-inch widescreen HD television. He would transfer this clip onto it when he got home, watch it again and again, put it with the rest. God, she was beautiful. He imagined running his hands through her hair, imagined what was beneath the white shirt and jacket that she wore. Had she ever worn a long coat with no underwear beneath it to tantal
ise Mark?

On the seat beside him were photos of Allie through the years. He’d followed her career since she’d been a trainee social worker, before she’d joined the police force. Photographed her on numerous occasions, far too many to count. When she was visiting Karen’s that New Year’s Eve. He’d sent the first rose then. When she’d been coming and going to Riverdale Residential home to see Karen, at the funeral of her dad and then her mum. At her house, in every car that she’d owned. Photos of her in the new Subaru she’d picked up just before Christmas.

He’d almost come unstuck when, after hearing about his friend from school going around murdering people he knew last month, he’d become obsessed with Karen again. He’d wanted to know how it would have felt if he hadn’t hit her so hard, if she hadn’t played him along, if she had been willing to let him screw her. He knew she’d wanted it really, no matter how much she had screamed. And that young girl, Chloe Winters, had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He’d been walking around and saw her. She’d reminded him of Allie with her slim figure and long dark hair, and before he knew it, he’d grabbed her hand and begun to run with her.

He’d left a note for Allie, to let her know that it was him and nothing to do with the serial killer case. He wondered if she had ever cottoned on.

Every time he saw Karen, he still felt sorry for what he’d done, the pain he’d caused Allie. But once the constant reminder of his mistake had gone with her, he would make up for it. It had to be on his terms. It had to be perfect. He had it all planned.

He needed Karen to die first. And then Allie would be next.

His surviving angel.

5.30 A.M.

When Allie awoke on Friday morning, she knew it had been pointless going back home when she was so wired, but it was equally important that she had got at least a few hours’ rest. Eventually she had dropped off next to Mark, only to sit bolt upright half an hour later, wide-eyed and breathless as her nightmare of years gone by returned.

Downstairs after her shower, over a quick coffee and bowl of cereal, she pondered what would happen today. Most of all she was dreading the results of Karen’s tests, and she was fighting her guilt about keeping busy.

Dressing had been more of a chore that morning. She wanted to come across as confident and assuring but not in any way sexy or dominant. But she’d ended up choosing a black pencil skirt with jacket to match, a white shirt with a big collar and black knee-length boots with a heel. The icy conditions outside didn’t make heels a good idea but she wore them anyway. They were her
confidence
booster.

Mark was in the shower as she was about to leave for work. Oh, how she wanted to join him and stay in there forever. Not go out into the cold and unforgiving thing that was called life. She went in to him, a slither of regret running through her as she saw his naked body silhouetted through the glass rippled with drops of water. She slid the door open a little.

‘I’m off now,’ she shouted to him. ‘See you later.’

He turned towards her, soapsuds falling down his torso, gave her a wink. ‘Hang on a tick,’ he said.

She waited while he finished. Less than a minute later, the shower went off and he opened the door.

‘Are you sure you’re okay to go in today?’ he asked as she handed him a towel. ‘They’ll understand if you don’t.’

‘We’re already a man down on our team now that Matt has retired.’ DC Matt Radcliffe had worked with Allie as part of her team for several years until he’d been involved in a car collision last year; his injuries had been severe and were mending slowly. So after reaching the age of fifty, he’d decided to call it a day. She
nodded
her head at Mark, hoping this sudden turnaround was about Karen and not him feeling threatened that she was off to see Terry Ryder. ‘I’ll come away if necessary, regardless, but for now I need to sort this case out, keep busy.’

She stepped towards him and kissed him gently, overwhelmed by the scent of him. His response was to turn the kiss into a deep, passionate embrace, the romantic yet possessive kind that took her breath away. She felt him harden against her, liked that she could still do that to him.

‘I love you, Allie,’ he said, staring deep into her eyes. ‘I know I don’t say it often enough, but I do. You’re my world, despite your irritating ways at times.’

‘You kinda ruined it with that last statement,’ she teased. ‘I love you too – always.’

He smiled. ‘Just make sure you stay safe and come home
to me.’

She left him a minute later, tears welling in her eyes as she got into her car. Lord knows what she would face today but with Mark behind her she had the feeling that she could tackle anything. Which was a good job, considering what she had lined up for that morning.

6.30 A.M.

Sandra Granger had been awake since half past five, too. She was sipping her second cup of tea. As she clasped her hands around it, she stood staring through the kitchen window. Beyond the walkway, everything was in shadows now but she could see the place where Jordan Johnson had been murdered.

The tent had been removed and the police had gone for now, yet the feeling of impending doom she felt had heightened. She just knew Jacob was involved. If he wasn’t, why had he lied to the police about where he was when the crime had taken place? He said he’d been out with Tommy and then he’d said he’d been over at his friend’s house. Neither of those was true. She should know. He’d woken her by banging the front door shut at three forty-five.

She’d heard on the news that Jordan had an older brother. She wondered how their mother was bearing up now. Was it beginning to sink in that she would never see her youngest son again or was she still in denial? To have a child taken so brutally, so quickly must be a parent’s worst nightmare. So wrong, so unnecessary. Yet she knew if she didn’t do something, the same fate could be hers. Worse, one son could be killed at the hands of the other.

Her boys weren’t saints, far from it, and, even though they were always in trouble, she loved them dearly and would defend them until there were no more words left in her vocabulary to use.

Losing one of them was beyond comprehension.

She couldn’t lose them both.

Which meant sacrificing one for the other.