Welcome To Wherever You Are (45 page)

It took four more weeks before another detective located her, dancing at the Pink Pussycat Club and residing in a backpacking hostel. Savannah constantly surrounded herself with people either at work or in the hostel, making her a hard target to pick off. But Reverend Devereaux was an impatient man and sent his own team, all guns blazing, to swipe his daughter from the street. No one involved anticipated that Savannah might be armed and just how ready she was to fight back.

So when that plan backfired, a persuasive British private detective heard on the grapevine about the bounty and asked the Reverend to give her a chance. And when he agreed, Janet Davies became Jane Doherty. She wormed her way into Savannah’s life with a fabricated backstory and a plan to befriend the girl, win her trust and lure her out of her comfort zone.

‘Your dad got wind that Roseanna was seeing his employee and fired him,’ continued Michael, ‘so hearing Jane had that day just moved into your room in the hostel was the last piece of information your sister could get, and I never heard from her again.’

Savannah shook her head, worried about her sister and feeling foolish and gullible for desperately wanting to trust Jane.

‘It’s okay,’ Michael reassured her, sensing Savannah’s sadness. ‘You weren’t to know.’

Michael explained he’d arrived in Los Angeles six days earlier and begun following Savannah and Jane from a safe distance, waiting for the moment when he could approach his girlfriend on her own and lead her to safety. On several occasions he considered just bursting his way into the hostel and finding Savannah, but he couldn’t be sure if Jane was working alone.

When he’d followed Jane to the house in West Hollywood, he contacted the real estate agent from the number on the board outside and was told the house was being rented on a three-month short-term contract. So Michael knew he must act quickly. And although he abhorred violence towards women, Jane would be the exception to the rule. The moment she’d opened the front door thinking it was the Reverend’s team, he’d knocked her out cold.

Savannah was scared that if she took her eyes off Michael even for a moment, he might disappear and she’d wake up to find herself caught in another of a series of nightmares that seemed to plague her life. He kept glancing to his side to return her gaze.

‘It’s all going to be okay, you know,’ he smiled, ‘you, me and the baby, we’re going to be just fine.’

Savannah smiled at Michael and moved her bag from beneath her neck, placed it in her lap and stretched her arms and legs out and yawned.

Then she slowly slipped her hand inside the bag, and before Michael could stop her, she pointed a gun at his temple.

It had been a long night for Jane, gagged and tied to the chair in her lounge.

She ran through the range of escape methods that her military training had taught her, but the stranger who’d burst though her front door that night and taken her by surprise with a right hook had made an impressive job of securing her. She cursed herself for resting on her laurels once she had Savannah sedated.

The cuckoo clock above the fireplace revealed it had been almost six hours since she’d watched helplessly as a man she assumed was the one her employer had referred to as ‘black Satan’ carried Savannah out of the house. The two dozen times she’d heard her mobile phone ring also told her the Reverend would be furious at not receiving his promised update.

Suddenly the front door handle turned and Jane watched as three men entered, each as broad shouldered and burly as the next. They glanced around the hallway and up the staircase before they spotted Jane. The tallest of the trio approached her and ripped the gag from her mouth. She drew in a long, deep breath.

‘Where is she?’ the man asked gruffly.

‘Someone came and took her. Now untie me, we need to move fast.’

Instead, the man cocked his head and stared at Jane, then took a mobile phone from his pocket and dialled.

Jane couldn’t hear what he said to the person on the other end of the phone but she guessed who he was reporting to. And when he drew a gun from the back of his trousers and screwed a silencer to the end of the barrel, Jane knew what he’d just been ordered to do.

Declan stood with his back to the window, staring at Matty’s empty bed.

Matty’s unzipped sleeping bag still bore the impression of his lifeless frame, and he could smell his friend’s knock-off Tommy Hilfiger aftershave lingering in the bathroom. Declan turned around and lowered himself onto his bed, and lay back. His pillow felt lumpy, so he put his hand underneath and removed the well-fingered Travel America guidebook that had inspired many of their excursions. He opened it up to a folded page and out fell Matty’s silver crucifix. He smiled, kissed it and placed it over his head and around his neck and tucked it inside his T-shirt. He noticed a packet of photographs had been left too, but he couldn’t bring himself to open them just yet.

‘Declan, are you in there?’ came Tommy’s voice from the other side of the door.

Tommy tentatively entered and saw a Declan he hadn’t met before – a man with the demeanour of a beaten dog.

‘I think this is for you to watch.’ Tommy smiled awkwardly and handed Declan his digital camcorder before giving him privacy. Declan pressed play and Matty’s face appeared across the tiny screen.

‘Hey, eejit. Well if you’re watching this then you know where I am. I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye. I tried, but as you said, you weren’t ready to hear it. You know, I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for being my best friend. I wouldn’t have lasted as long as I did if you weren’t there to kick me up the arse and force me to live whatever time I had left. So, thank you. Be happy, Declan, enjoy your life, and don’t waste time thinking about me, okay? I’ve had the best time I could have possibly had, and that’s down to you. You’re my man.’

With a smile and a final wink, the screen turned to black.

For the first time since he’d discovered Matty’s body, Declan curled himself up into a tight ball and allowed himself to cry like he’d never cried before.

‘Oh my God,’ said Nicole, gobsmacked by the events of the night Tommy had just relayed.

Nicole sat in the hostel courtyard listening as Tommy spoke from the heart for nearly two hours. She wrapped his hand in bandages to protect his broken knuckles as he left nothing out, from the aftermath of the accident that killed his brothers; his family’s treatment and blame of him; his failed attempt at university; his brief stint in the army; his separation from Sean; how he developed feelings for Jake before realising who he really was; and their final confrontation She understood why Tommy hadn’t raised the alarm when Jake toppled over the railings at Santa Monica pier. But if it was Eric who had fallen, she wouldn’t have tried to find him.

For a moment Nicole allowed herself to think about Eric languishing behind bars and how she would probably spend the rest of her life living in fear that he might return. She shook her head to shake the bad thoughts out.

‘Just how bad a judge of characters are we?’ she asked. ‘Me with Eric, you with Jake.’

‘We make quite a pair.’

‘So what are you going to do now?’

‘Well, I’ve put it off for long enough, so I’m going to call my parents later, and then I’m going to start making plans to continue my travels properly. I’ve been here for too long, it’s time to stand on my own two feet and really see the world before I return home. Jake’s still running, but I feel like a free man now.’

Nicole nodded. She understood the desire to travel, but now she wanted to plant some roots, and Mrs Baker’s money would allow her to do just that with the hostel.

‘Do you mind if I tag along?’ a voice behind Tommy began. He frowned, then turned his head, and a huge smile spread across his face when he recognised who was speaking.

‘Alright mate,’ continued Sean, as Tommy leapt to his feet and the two friends hugged. ‘Mum said you called, and I was just up the coast so I thought I’d drop in and say hello.’

‘You couldn’t have picked a better time,’ replied Tommy.

‘Have you found your beach then?’

‘No, I found something better than that, but it’s a long story.’

‘So what’s new?’

Tommy glanced at Nicole and the two began to laugh at the absurdity of their week.

‘Oh, not much,’ grinned Tommy, ‘just the usual.’

‘What the hell, Savvy?’ began a panicked Michael. ‘Why are you pointing a gun at me?’

‘Pull over to the side of the road,’ Savannah replied coldly.

‘What are you doing?’

Savannah cocked the trigger. ‘Don’t make me ask you again.’

Michael did as he was ordered and directed the car towards a dirt verge.

‘Now give me the keys and get out,’ Savannah demanded. Michael obeyed and she followed him out of the car. She stood two metres opposite him with the gun pointed directly at his head.

‘Savvy, what’s going on?’ Michael pleaded.

‘How did you know I was pregnant?’ Savannah asked slowly.

Michael hesitated. ‘Your sister said you told her.’

‘No, she didn’t. Now I’ll ask you again. How did you know I’m pregnant?’

‘Rosanna told me the last time we spoke – really, she did,’ continued Michael, swallowing hard.

‘When I called Rosie, I didn’t say anything about the baby. You said the last she heard about me was just as Jane moved into my room. At that point Jane didn’t know about the baby either. So if you haven’t spoke to Rosie since, then the only way you could know is either through Jane or the mighty Reverend himself. So which one are you working for?’

Michael’s mouth moved but his throat suddenly felt dry.

‘Which one?’ Savannah repeated, more firmly.

‘Your father,’ Michael eventually replied.

‘Why would you do that to me?’

Michael looked as his feet, unable to meet Savannah’s gaze. ‘The $250,000 reward . . . that’s a hell of a lot of money, Savannah. I told him I could bring you home for less, so he told me everything Jane and the other PIs had found out.’

‘And did Jane know my father had pitted you all against each other?’

‘I don’t think so. He doesn’t care how you come home, whether it’s me or her – it doesn’t matter, just as long as one of us managed it—’

‘So you sold me out.’ Savannah interrupted.

‘Yeah, I did,’ Michael replied, his tone becoming angrier, ‘but then you were the one who ran away and didn’t tell me where you were going. All I knew was that my fingers were busted, I have a fucking dent in my head and my girl didn’t want anything to do with me.’

‘You didn’t even give me the benefit of the doubt!’

‘That money was going to pay for the rest of my education and my rent. When you left, I had nothing. Loving you robbed me of my career, so what else was I supposed to do?’

Savannah shook her head, disgusted by his excuses. Yet she wasn’t entirely surprised to learn Michael had switched allegiances; she was learning quickly that she couldn’t trust anyone but herself.

‘Look,’ Michael continued, regaining his composure. ‘It’s not too late for us, we can just drive away and start again, forget about the money. A clean slate, just you and me and the baby.’

‘You think I’d want you anywhere near my child? You’re a fool, Michael. And I’m a fool for trusting you. Now start walking or I’ll start shooting.’

‘What?’

‘Start walking, over there,’ Savannah replied, and pointed her gun towards a fence and a field full of corn, ‘and don’t stop until I’m gone.’

‘Savvy,’ pleaded Michael, ‘let’s talk about—’

The sound of the gunshot and the bullet landing inches away from Michael’s feet made him quickly realise there was no talking her around. He looked at her one last time, turned his back and began to walk.

Wiping a tear from her cheek, Savannah climbed into the driver’s side of the car, started the engine, locked the doors and slowly pulled away.

She didn’t look back at Michael in the rear-view mirror; instead, she rubbed her stomach and understood she didn’t need anyone to rescue her from her old life, only the baby growing inside her.

ONE YEAR LATER – VENICE BEACH INTERNATIONAL HOSTEL

Nicole sat behind the hostel’s smart new reception desk, clicked away from the spreadsheet of finances on her laptop screen and then scrolled through the favourites section in her toolbar.

She revisited the Daily Mail Online page she’d read many times in the last few days. ‘
British Drug Dealer Killed During Prison Riot
’ read the headline, followed by a mugshot of Eric taken a year ago in his orange, prison-issue uniform. The story revealed that while awaiting trial for the cannabis discovered in the boot of her pick-up truck, he had become embroiled in a behind-bars fracas in which a solitary stab wound pieced his heart. She felt nothing for either Eric, the friend she thought she knew, or the monster he actually was.

Nicole closed the lid of her computer and turned her thoughts to more positive things. She looked around the recently redecorated hostel reception with pride. Half of the rooms had been furnished with new bunk beds, the plumbing was in full working order, new carpets had replaced the threadbare ones and a bank of computers were hooked up to Wi-Fi.