Twenty Years a Stranger (The Stranger Series Book 1)

by Deborah Twelves

  ‘Listen, I didn’t want to say anything back there in front of Steve, but I’m really sorry for what’s happened to you. You seem like a nice person. I can’t tell you much, unfortunately, but I just wanted to say…I would never have put you and him together.’

  ‘Really? Why is that?’

  I expected him to say something about Daniel being too old for me or maybe punching above his weight, given his earlier description of him. I prepared myself to accept the compliment gracefully and drive away, but I found myself staring at him in stunned silence as I heard the words:

  ‘I thought he was gay.’

  The Liar

  It does not matter how many times a snake sheds its skin; it will never be anything but a snake.

  Grace

  I was becoming braver.

  After five times of the dinner/tracker ritual, I decided to learn to do the dirty deed myself. I didn’t want the other guys to be involved any more than they had to be.

  There was another more pressing reason. I wanted to get into Daniel’s car and to do that, I needed to be more in control.

  It had not escaped my notice that Daniel always made sure he locked his briefcase in the car when we went out, so it did not take a genius to work out that there was stuff in there he didn’t want me to see. I suspected he could trust none of his women anymore, including me of course, so it seemed logical that his entire life was now being stored either in the mysterious 12b Channing Street or in his car, aka mobile office.

  The downside of this new part of the plan was that I would have to allow him back into the house and I was even intending to allow him to spend the night there, although obviously not in my bed. My solicitor had annoyingly informed me that, until things were decided in the divorce, I had no right to change the locks or prevent Daniel from staying in the house if he wanted to, so I decided it might as well be on my terms. With him in the house overnight, I would be able to find a way to get my hands on his keys, sneak out in the middle of the night to the car park, fit the tracker and generally have a good old rummage around in the car.

  First I needed to build on my skills as a Private Eye. Tom, Adam’s mechanic friend, who was particularly knowledgeable about Range Rovers apparently, was only too happy to give me a crash course in tracker fitting using a friend’s car in a quiet corner of the hotel staff car park. The process was surprisingly easy, just a bit awkward. I had to lie on my back at right angles to the car on the passenger side, about halfway along and wriggle underneath. Once I had a close-up view of the chassis, Tom pointed out the steel U-section bar running across the underside of the vehicle. As luck would have it, it was a perfect fit for the tracking device, which turned out to be not much bigger than the size of a box of matches. Tom had thought of everything, even putting the tracker in a little vacuum bag so that it stayed dry. Fitting it was a simple matter of pushing it up and over into the U-section, before finally securing it with a cable tie to be sure it couldn’t move or bounce out.

  I could do that.

  I emerged from under the car just as Adam arrived to see how my lesson was going.

  ‘So, Nancy Drew, are we letting you fly solo this week?’

  ‘Yep. Piece of cake. In fact, I might start doing this for a living,’ I joked as we walked back into the hotel.

  ‘Did Sylvie tell you what the guy from the hardware shop said when I went down to check out Channing Street? About Daniel being gay?’

  ‘Yeah, she did.’

  Adam laughed.

  ‘I’m betting that’s not an image he would be overly keen to portray,’ he said with raised eyebrows.

  ‘I know, but I wonder why he said that. Do you think Daniel looks gay? Because I’ve never seen that in him or thought that about him. He’s always been a real man’s man, I thought. Borderline homophobic to be honest. Shit, I don’t know what to think anymore,’ I laughed.

  ‘Well, maybe he’s still in the closet and that’s why he did what he did to you. Maybe he’s actually a woman-hater and can never be satisfied with any woman.’

  ‘Maybe. Funnily enough, that’s exactly what my sister-in-law said. I just don’t get it though. That guy must have seen something to make him think Daniel’s gay. It’s not really the sort of thing you just come out with is it?’

  ‘I honestly don’t know sweetheart. I guess you’ll find out more if you do manage to find a way of getting into the flat. Nothing would surprise me about him anymore.’

  The ‘gay’ thing prayed on my mind. I had only just come to terms with Daniel’s promiscuity with other women. Now a whole new dimension had been introduced and I did not find it a particularly appealing one. It wasn’t that I was homophobic. I just didn’t like being lied to. Confident that I was now fully proficient in tracker-fitting, I gathered up my little bag of chargers and leads and headed home to secrete them carefully in the house until it was time to use them a week or so later. I had been a bit lax with the tracker information lately, as Daniel had become fairly predictable in his movements, but I could not afford to be complacent and as soon as I had hidden everything properly, I set about the task of going through the log, noting times and locations again to see if any new patterns had emerged.

  An hour or so later, I was kicking myself for taking my eye off the ball. A new address had indeed cropped up and Daniel appeared to be going there quite regularly.

  He was also staying there overnight.

  I was starting to learn my craft and it was not difficult to join the dots once the tracker pointed me in the right direction. In fact, it was frighteningly easy to find out someone’s personal details. From the house address, I moved to the Land Registry, then a search of the electoral roll, then various social media sites.

  Boom.

  In a matter of a few minutes, I had a woman’s name, a full address, where she worked, email address, phone number and numerous photos. In her profile picture, she had fair hair, taken up in a messy bun. She was definitely on the chubby side, but (I had to admit) not fat, at least not by Daniel’s usual standards. I concluded that her non-descript, pink tee shirt and jeans did nothing for her and put her probably around fifty.

  I sat back and looked at my scribbled notes, shell shocked. This was a new character in the plot. She had only recently been introduced. There was no mention of her in the email and it felt as if I had been punched in the stomach. All the feelings I had when I first read the email, and learned of Daniel’s betrayal, came flooding back. I began to cry. Then my tears turned to anger and I slammed my fist down hard on the table.

  How could he do this to me all over again? Just a few nights ago, we had been out to dinner and he had been telling me how he wanted to give things another go. He wanted me to think about taking him back. Said he would do anything to turn back the clock.…

  I realised in horror that I had been playing a dangerous game, one that had backfired on me. All the time I was thinking I had the upper hand and was laying a trap for Daniel, he was actually playing me for a fool.

  He had lied to me again and I had fallen for it again, believing he really did love me.

  I shut the lid of my laptop and hid it as I always did these days whenever I went out, between the mattress and the bed frame in my room, before heading out to see Sylvie and the guys at the hotel. I wanted a shoulder to cry on about this latest development.

  ‘You’re not going to believe what he’s done now,’ I sniffed, as I sat down at the bar.

  ‘Go on then, what?’ asked Andrew, in the process of cleaning the coffee machine.

  ‘He’s actually got another one on the go. Can you believe it? He’s only gone and picked up another slapper. Presumably from one of the internet dating sites he’s such a fan of. Like fucking internet shopping!’

  Adam and Andrew laughed out loud.

  ‘It’s not exactly a laughing matter. He’s lied to me again,’ I said indignantly.

  ‘I’m sorry, I just don’t get why you’re so surprised,’ Andrew said as he handed me a large
glass of wine. ‘Let’s face it, we all know that the way to tell whether Daniel’s lying or not is to see if his lips are moving.’

  ‘Yeah, I know that, but…I don’t know. I thought maybe he was regretting it all. I really thought he was telling the truth about loving me and wanting to win me round. Even though I don’t want him back…obviously,’ I added quickly.

  Adam raised his eyebrows questioningly.

  ‘Are you sure about that?’ he asked.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous! I do have a modicum of self-respect left you know.’

  ‘Well, it sounds to me like you were considering it. I know what you women are like. You like to win. Maybe there’s a bit of you that just wants him to choose you over all the others?’ he teased.

  I forced a tight little laugh.

  ‘I can assure you, that’s not the case at all. I’m telling you now, I’m going to make him pay for this.’

  ‘That’s more like it. That’s the attitude you need to keep.’

  I could be as indignant as I liked, but I had to admit Adam was right. I had lost sight of what I was really trying to do and had begun to actually listen to Daniel’s manipulative lies. I had let him inside my head.

  I could not afford to make that mistake again.

  Sylvie had her laptop open and there was concern in her voice when she spoke.

  ‘I honestly think you need to warn this new woman. At the end of the day, Daniel will be lying to her too and he shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this. He’s preying on women and it’s obviously starting all over again, like history repeating itself.’

  She was right. I had to remain objective. The new woman in his life, Stephanie Barton, would have no clue about what she was getting into. She needed a wake-up call and there would, of course, be the added bonus of bursting Daniel’s bubble.

  ‘I think you should forward her the email,’ continued Sylvie.

  ‘I bet she hasn’t got a clue and that’ll certainly put her straight about him.’

  ‘Well yes, I could send it, but I have to be careful. I don’t want Daniel to know where all this is coming from. And I especially don’t want any questions raised about how I found out she even exists. He can’t find out about the tracker.’

  It didn’t take long for our combined imaginations to come up with the perfect solution in the form of the fictitious persona of Gloria Stanton. It took just a few moments for the ghost of Gloria, who was actually Andrew’s late mother, to set up her own email account on Sylvie’s laptop and send a message to Stephanie Barton. The message contained a slightly edited, copied and pasted version of the email, omitting the original sender’s address. It had to be completely anonymous. All we had to do next was sit tight, have another drink and wait for the outcome of our meddling.

  When the reply came, just half an hour later, it was formal, to the point and not at all what I had expected.

  Lorraine,

  I have no idea how you got my details. What I do know is that it constitutes a serious breach of my privacy and I will be taking legal advice regarding how best to proceed.

  I am fully aware of your relationship with my new partner Daniel and how you have stalked him since he split up with you a short while ago. You are clearly a bitter ex who will stop at nothing to cause trouble and prevent Daniel from moving on with his life.

  Do not contact me again.

  Ms Stephanie Barton

  ‘Lorraine?!’ I shrieked. ‘Oh shit, she thinks Lorraine sent the email.’

  I began to laugh at the absurd situation. I laughed until the tears rolled down my cheeks as I realised that this was even better than I had planned. Not only was I sure I had managed to sow the seeds of doubt in the woman’s mind, despite what she said in the email, but even better, Lorraine had got the blame for it all! I really hadn’t intended for that to happen, but the more I thought about it, the more it was obvious Daniel would assume it was from her. An unexpected added bonus.

  My phone pinged and there was an email to me from Daniel. I quickly knocked back the rest of my wine, before opening it with some trepidation and reading it out loud to the others, in a mocking attempt at an Irish accent.

  Dear Grace,

  Don’t be scared, but I need you to be on your guard. Lorraine has hacked the email account of a female friend of mine and sent her the same spiteful email she sent you. She has clearly not bothered to check her facts and is on some kind of vigilante mission to ruin my life. I have told my friend not to respond, but I am taking this to the police as there is no telling what she might do next. She is clearly unhinged and may come after you.

  Please be careful and ring me if she tries to contact you.

  I think she could be dangerous.

  Love, Daniel xx

  I reminded myself Daniel had no idea I had already met with Lorraine and clearly he had no idea his ‘female friend’ had ignored his instructions and already responded to the email herself. I was no longer quite so pleased with myself however and was beginning to feel a bit uneasy at the mention of the police. Suddenly, it didn’t all seem quite so funny.

  ‘Oh shit, what do we do now?’ I asked, looking to the others for advice.

  My first thought was that I had done everything on Sylvie’s computer and the police would easily be able to trace the IP address of that if they chose to. I had recently learned all about IP addresses, as part of my career development as a detective. I had disturbing visions in my mind of the police breaking the door down and rushing in to arrest poor Sylvie, so I frantically set about erasing all traces of Gloria Stanton’s brief existence, deleting her account and all messages from it. I was sorry to say goodbye to her so soon but, hopefully, I had done enough to keep the police at bay and we would get away with it. At least I had the satisfaction of knowing I had caused a hassle for Daniel and hopefully put a spanner in the works where his new relationship was concerned, but the incident with Gloria highlighted the fact that I was still an amateur in the dark world of espionage and deception. A bit of a loose cannon, to be honest, blundering around and only really succeeding in causing more trouble for myself.

  As I lay in bed that night, I thought to myself that maybe my naivety, occasionally bordering on total incompetence, wasn’t such a bad thing after all. In fact, maybe it was the perfect cover, because who would ever believe I was capable of pulling off the acts of treachery I had in mind?

  The Investigator

  You will never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have left.

  Grace

  I stood nervously outside the door of 12b Channing Street.

  Again.

  I had timed my second visit to the office carefully, waiting until Daniel was away ‘on business’ in America. I had watched the little green cursor drive all the way from Jane’s house in Willowmede to Birmingham International airport. To make absolutely sure, I had driven into the airport car park and physically saw his car in the Meet and Greet section, waiting to be driven away to one of the off-site storage areas. Only then did I drive to Stainsford in the black Ford Focus I had borrowed from Tom, secure in the knowledge that I had days rather than hours of safety to do whatever I wanted.

  This was my big chance.

  I turned to the man in the Hi-vis jacket behind me and thanked him profusely, as I pushed open the door to the bedsit. I tried my best to look confident, as though this was an action I performed several times every day. There was something large and soft behind the door, which prevented it from opening fully. I shoved harder, careful not to show surprise. He needed to think I belonged there.

  ‘God, it’s such a mess in here. We’re still moving stuff in. I can’t believe I’ve lost my keys.’ I laughed apologetically and rolled my eyes, flashing him my best ‘helpless woman’ face to distract him.

  ‘Thank goodness I left a spare set in the kitchen,’ I added for good measure.

  I almost believed my own lies. I was definitely getting better at this.

  The man behin
d me smiled with an understanding but slightly weary look on his face.

  ‘Don’t worry love. You’re not the first and you won’t be the last.’

  I had no wish to enter into a conversation with him and was more than a little anxious to get rid of him and his Hi-vis jacket before they started attracting too much unwelcome attention from the other residents. I felt conspicuous and exposed. A young woman entered one of the adjacent flats with a small child in tow, giving me a curious look as she passed.

  I needed to be careful. I needed to be invisible.

  ‘Hadn’t you better switch the alarm off?’ asked Hi-vis Man.

  He was looking patiently at the fob in my hand, clearly wondering why I was just standing there vacantly in the doorway. I was pretty sure he was also thinking it was a bit odd that I had one of the two-door keys needed in my possession, but had mysteriously lost the second one.

  ‘Oh yes, of course.’

  I laughed nervously and reached inside, wondering where the hell the alarm was located. I could see a box at the top of the stairs that appeared to be a likely candidate and waved the fob in that general direction, hoping to God it worked. I had to assume it did as no alarm went off. I turned back to the man with what I thought was a confident smile, eager to take charge of the situation. Time he was off.

  ‘Thank you so much, you’re a lifesaver. Here’s the eighty pounds then.’

  I pressed the little bundle of cash into his hand. I had, of course, made sure there was no paper trail to link me to anything there, running through the streets like a woman possessed in search of a cash machine just ten minutes earlier.

  I was quite proud of myself for thinking of that at the last moment, knowing I was going to have to provide twelve months of bank statements to the divorce court as proof of my financial situation. Daniel and his lawyer would be able to study them, and I had no wish to answer awkward questions about why I had randomly engaged the services of a locksmith in Stainsford. A fleeting thought crossed my mind and I hoped I was not starring on CCTV anywhere. I reminded myself that I was not exactly in the league of criminal masterminds wanted by Interpol and produced an extra fiver for Hi-vis Man to encourage him to leave with a bit more urgency.