Heartlands

by Kerry Watts

  ‘There you go, you get that down you.’ Maggie grinned as she laid a huge plate piled high with bacon, sausage, fried tomato, fried bread, fried mushrooms, black pudding, haggis pudding, fruit pudding and beans on the table in front of Tom. His eyes widened at the feast she’d prepared for him.

  ‘This looks delicious, thanks so much for this.’ Tom picked up the ketchup bottle and heaped a portion on the tiny patch of plate that wasn’t covered.

  ‘Oh, your toast,’ Maggie patted his shoulder. ‘I nearly forgot. I won’t be a minute.’

  Tom watched Maggie hurry away before he had a chance to say anything. The door to the bar opened and Tom was sure he recognised the man’s face. He frowned and stared until the man did the same to him.

  ‘Tom Nicoll?’ Blair asked, and moved quickly to his table.

  ‘Yes, I’m Tom Nicoll. I know your face but I’m sorry, I can’t quite remember your name.’

  Blair held out his hand to shake Tom’s.

  ‘I’m Blair Crawford. I worked for a newspaper which covered Sophie’s story.’ Blair hesitated, then offered Tom a small smile. ‘I was friends with your mum.’

  Tom closed his eyes and nodded in recognition. ‘Of course, yes. Are you here to cover Shannon’s disappearance?’ Tom tapped the newspaper.

  ‘That’s right, yes. So, how are you, Tom? You’ve certainly changed since I last saw you. What brings you to Inverlochty? It’s a long way from home.’

  Tom wondered if Blair had seen him Maybe he could tell him where to find him but, before he could ask, Maggie bustled over to his table with a plate of toast, butter and marmalade. She dropped a hand onto Blair’s shoulder and patted it.

  ‘Yours will be about ten minutes,’ she assured him.

  Again, before Tom could quiz him, Blair’s phone buzzed loudly.

  ‘Sorry, I have to take this.’ Tom was left wondering if Blair was on the hunt for Sophie’s killer as well. This time he was not going to get away with it.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Ben Randall crushed the empty lager can and chucked it into the fast-flowing river. The rainfall in recent days had caused her to swell and thrash angrily through the town. He pulled another can from the carrier bag and opened it. He needn’t have bothered because the other three he’d downed hadn’t helped. He and Louise had argued again that morning. His big sister was on his back constantly. She seemed oblivious to the fact that he might be missing Shannon too. Ben heard footsteps behind him and turned to see who it was. A broad grin crept across his face when he realised he’d been caught. He stood and staggered forward with his hands up.

  ‘It’s a fair cop, detective. You’ve caught me red-handed.’ The effects of the alcohol suddenly kicked in and caused a fit of the giggles.

  ‘Come on, Ben, I’ll take you home.’

  ‘Were you looking for me?’ Ben slurred. ‘Or were you expecting to find Shannon here?’

  He tripped and fell as he moved forward, spilling the contents of his carrier bag across the muddy bank. Before Dylan could say anything, Ben added, ‘Have you looked in there yet?’ He nodded in the direction of the choppy water.

  Dylan grabbed hold of Ben’s arm.

  ‘Come on, lad.’ Dylan pulled his car keys from his pocket as Ben snatched his arm back from his grip.

  ‘I bet none of you would be this upset if it was me in there.’

  Dylan stopped dead. ‘What did you just say?’

  Ben ignored him and kept walking ahead of him.

  ‘Ben, stop right there,’ Dylan called after him, his words startling two ducks on the bank who suddenly flew upwards out of the dense grass that grew there. Ben did as he was told and turned to stare at him.

  ‘Well, where the hell else could she be? You’ve looked everywhere,’ Ben said petulantly.

  Once he’d caught up with him, Dylan ushered him to the car.

  Rob dropped the teaspoon in the sink and carried the two mugs into the bedroom.

  ‘Here you go.’ He placed the hot peppermint tea on Cassie’s bedside table.

  ‘You didn’t have to do that.’ Cassie rubbed the base of her back and struggled to get comfortable.

  ‘Is your back still sore?’

  Cassie winced. ‘I’ll be fine, don’t worry. I’ll just stay in bed for a bit. You get on with whatever you need to be getting on with. I’ll call you if I need you.’

  Cassie smiled, but Rob saw the pain and tiredness etched on her face. He kissed her once, gently, on the top of her head.

  ‘Don’t get up. Text me if you need anything.’

  ‘I will.’ Cassie smiled weakly.

  Rob’s office wasn’t far from their bedroom. He’d had the attic converted into his workspace not long after he bought the house. With the door closed it was so peaceful up there, and the view from the window was breathtaking. He could see right across the trees to the river as it wound its way to Dundee and beyond. His phone buzzed with a text message just as he got comfortable at his desk. He smiled when he saw it was from Louise.

  You’re welcome. I’m glad I could help.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Calum pulled his suitcase down from the top of the wardrobe; the dust spilled into his eyes and caught the back of his throat, making him cough. He wiped the surface of the case and remembered the last time it was used. He recalled fondly the excitement of emptying it, along with the boxes, the day he moved into this flat, but he couldn’t stay in Inverlochty; not after giving that pen drive to DI Blake. It was only a matter of time before it was linked to him. He didn’t want to be here when that happened.

  He switched off the lights and locked the door for what might be the last time; he hadn’t decided. He might come back, once the whole Shannon situation was resolved, one way or another. Calum ignored Eric’s call again as he loaded the car. Saying goodbye to him had been awful, even if it was only by text.

  He knew that Eric would be fine. He would be safer without him. Neither Calum nor Shannon had told Eric about the real story of the book. Once Shannon stumbled on that secret, she’d told Calum that she had not dared confide in Eric, even if he was her best friend. She said telling Calum was hard enough, but she needed someone she trusted to go over the manuscript. She never revealed her source. He’d pleaded with Shannon not to go ahead with the book and refused to help her with it. When begging didn’t work, she had casually mentioned her suspicions that Eric and Calum were becoming more than teacher and student. She could have been bluffing, of course, but Calum didn’t receive a reply when he sent Shannon a message saying he’d had time to think it over. Against his better judgement, he had told her he would help her. She left him little choice.

  Now she was missing. Calum didn’t want to hang about to find out if he was next. He’d warned her that messing with people like that would get her in trouble. She had even joked: ‘What are they going to do, make me disappear?’ Calum could hear those words as clearly as the day she’d said them.

  The blue Mercedes behind Calum had been following his Seat Ibiza for more than ten miles now, he was sure of it. Stop being ridiculous, he told himself. He was just being paranoid, wasn’t he? This was the only road north. Of course the Mercedes was still following him. There was no other route; nowhere for him to pass. This whole situation had him on edge. Every shadow, every noise made him nervous. There was a lay-by in five hundred yards. He would pull in there, and if the Mercedes driver did the same, then Calum would know. He held his breath then swallowed hard. He clicked the indicator on and waited. The Mercedes did not make any indication it was about to stop. Calum peered in his rear-view mirror and began to move into the lay-by.

  ‘What the shitting hell?’ Calum muttered when the Mercedes pulled in behind him.

  His heart thudded while he stopped his car and waited. He struggled to control the trembling in his arms and gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white; his heart was pounding. When he glanced in the mirror he saw a heavily built, well-dressed man in a grey suit getting out
of the Mercedes and walking towards him.

  Calum wasn’t going to hang about to find out what he wanted. He thrust his car into gear and his wheels spun, kicking gravel at the man as he sped out of the lay-by. Calum had not noticed the lorry hurtling along the road. His little Seat Ibiza was thrown off the road and sent tumbling down the embankment, rolling as it fell, until it came to a halt on its roof at the bottom.

  Calum Bailey died instantly on impact.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Dylan rubbed his eyes that stung from concentrating on a computer screen for so long. It had been a hard day; the kind of day that can fill your mind with fog. He could do with some baby Jack hugs right then. Since becoming a father, hugs from his son had the power to soothe his tired soul. Nobody had prepared Dylan for the overwhelming love he would feel for his child, or the sense of responsibility which made memories of his own father even darker. He would make sure Jack knew he was loved, and that Dylan loved Shelly the way a man should love his wife. Not the twisted control his own father had over them. Shelly’s video message of Jack giggling helped. That and the voicemail Rivendell left to say his mum was comfortable. She was even eating again. That was a weight off his mind.

  ‘Here you go.’ Jessie slid a coaster out from under a pile of papers and placed a strong black coffee in front of him. ‘How are you getting on?’

  ‘Thanks. Yes, fine.’ Dylan sniffed then leaned right into the back of his chair and stretched his arms above his head as he yawned. ‘So far I’ve been able to find an email account in the name of J. Ross, which I assume is Jason’s. Now, what I don’t know is whether it’s Jason’s or whether Shannon has created an account in her father’s name.’

  Jessie was thrilled by this discovery. ‘What’s in it? Did she arrange to meet anyone the night she disappeared?’

  ‘Sorry, the tech boys haven’t had much luck with this. It’s a Hotmail account, but don’t worry, I will get it.’

  ‘Here’s an idea I’m going to put out there. I would love to hear what you think.’

  ‘OK, I’m listening.’

  Jessie pulled up another chair. ‘What if Jason has done something to his daughter?’

  ‘I have to say Jason seems genuinely cut up.’

  ‘Yes, but what if the anguished father behaviour is down to guilt and grief at knowing what he’s done? He has a history of violence, Dylan.’

  ‘Yes, I know that, but—’

  ‘Did he have an argument with Shannon about her book?’ Jessie shrugged. ‘There’s more to that family than we know. I’d like you to keep an eye on Jason for now.’

  Dylan nodded. ‘Sure thing. And what about Calum, the teacher?’

  ‘Mm,’ Jessie paused. ‘What does he have to gain from Shannon’s disappearance?’

  ‘Not sure myself, to be honest. Just a hunch, I suppose. And Foster? He was the last one to see her.’

  ‘Try Shannon Ross, all one word.’ Jessie tapped his shoulder and pointed to the laptop. ‘I sometimes need to keep it that simple.’

  Dylan typed it in and hit enter. The email account opened.

  ‘Detective Inspector Blake, you are a genius.’

  All of the emails were from someone named Dominic, and six of them remained unread.

  ‘Wait a minute,’ Dylan hesitated. ‘Should we really be reading these? The account is in Jason’s name.’

  ‘Shannon is a vulnerable missing person. We can access this.’

  Jessie considered the implications of any case she brought against anyone being tossed out on a technicality. But at the same time the urgency of the case preyed on her mind. ‘OK, you go and talk to Calum Bailey again first. See if he knows about this Dominic. I’ll call the super just for peace of mind. Get his go-ahead. One phone call won’t hurt.’

  Dylan closed the laptop and grabbed his mac from the back of the chair. Shelly had teased him about his likeness to Columbo when he first brought it home. Dylan hoped the physical likeness began and ended with the coat. He hoped the dark clouds would hold back the deluge they threatened until later tonight. He hated driving that winding back road home in the rain and the dark. He’d hardly seen Shelly and Jack recently but, as Shelly told him, this was a great opportunity. It would be worth it for his career.

  Boom! The sudden crack of the farmer’s bird scarer in the field across from the small, rural station startled Jessie.

  ‘Shit’s sake,’ she muttered while her heart raced.

  Her nerves were already frayed as it was. She saw his shadow around every corner, and tried to tell herself that it was impossible for him to know where she was. None of her colleagues would tell him if he asked, she knew that, but it still niggled at her. What if? What would he do if they met? What would she do? Why the hell did she still feel like this? Dan had no control over her any more. That ended the day he effectively murdered their child.

  She looked up to see a flock of crows soar above the ancient oak that had probably stood in the corner of the field for longer than Jessie had been alive. The fast-flowing River Lochty meandered past the outer edge of the vast field of wheat, twisting and winding its way towards Dundee and then the North Sea. It was deep and dark and threatening as it poured through the small Highland Perthshire town. Despite being famous for its water sports, Jessie shuddered at the thought of getting in it, no matter the size of the boat. Her sister, Freya, often used to enjoy the thrill of white-water rafting upriver a short way from here. That was until her life unravelled spectacularly and she lost her marriage and job to alcoholism.

  Dylan pulled on the handbrake and got out of his car to walk across the private car park of Calum Bailey’s apartment building. He knocked and waited for an answer. When he didn’t get any response, he rang his mobile number. He knew Bailey wouldn’t be at school at the weekend, but when it went straight to voicemail he hung up. From the corner of his eye, Dylan saw a figure sitting alone on the steps of the adjacent building. He walked over to where Eric sat, his face red from crying.

  ‘He’s not there,’ Eric told him.

  ‘Do you know when Mr Bailey will be back? I need to talk to him.’

  Dylan watched Eric keep his eyes fixed on the grass at his feet as he shook his head.

  ‘Do you happen to know where he is?’

  Eric lifted his head to speak. ‘Your guess is as good as mine.’

  ‘OK, well, if you see him, could you tell him to give me a call? I’m DC Dylan Logan.’

  ‘He’s gone.’

  Dylan was confused. ‘What do you mean, he’s gone? Gone where?’

  Eric shrugged. ‘I have no idea where he is. Why should I? I’m just a kid, aren’t I?’

  Eric stood up and walked down the two steps to join Dylan.

  ‘What did you need to talk to Calum about?’

  A bit weird to call your teacher Calum, Dylan thought. He would never have been able to do that when he was at school.

  ‘Thanks for your help, Eric.’

  As Dylan turned to head back to his car, he wondered if Eric knew Dominic. He spun round.

  ‘Eric, can I ask you something?’

  ‘Sure, what is it?’ he answered, hands thrust deep in his pockets.

  ‘Did Shannon ever mention the name Dominic to you?’

  The instant frown that developed on Eric’s brow told Dylan that Eric couldn’t help.

  ‘Who’s Dominic?’ Eric answered. ‘I don’t know anyone called Dominic, and Shannon certainly didn’t mention that name to me.’

  Dylan got back to his car just as the heavens opened. He figured Jessie’s mood would probably reflect the miserable weather when he got back.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Louise watched the rain from her bedroom window and worried that Shannon was out there, alone and cold. She lifted Shannon’s school shirt from the laundry basket and held it close to her face. She slung it across the back of the chair ready for ironing. Shannon would need it when she got back, she told herself. She wished that Rob was with her, holding her close
to him, stroking her hair. When she closed her eyes, she could feel him. She could smell him.

  Her daydream was invaded by Jason’s arm pulling her to him. He pushed her hair out of her eyes and pressed his lips against hers. Louise smelt the beer on his breath and felt nauseous. Instead of reciprocating his advance, Louise gently pushed her husband away and started to walk towards the door, shaking her head.

  ‘Louise, please,’ Jason pleaded.

  Louise stopped and spoke without turning to face him.

  ‘I can’t, Jason, not now,’ she whispered, then closed the bedroom door behind her with hot, stinging tears in her eyes.

  The distance that grew daily between him and Louise was crushing Jason. He slumped down on the corner of the bed, and realised that he and Louise had not shared their bed since Shannon went missing. Louise had slept in Shannon’s room from that night on. If it was space Louise needed then he would give it to her. He picked up his wallet from the bedside table and made his way to The Black Witch.

  Louise watched as he disappeared. She knew exactly where he was going and what sort of state he would be in when he came home. Of all the times for Jason to show his utter selfishness. Still, it wasn’t unexpected. The sound of footsteps going into the bathroom upstairs reminded her that she was still mad with Ben for his recent stunt; getting drunk in the middle of the day and skipping school to do it. She had yelled when Dylan kindly delivered him home. Ben had scurried into his room and they hadn’t spoken since. Ben’s face was white as a sheet when he cautiously poked his face round the living room door. Louise sighed, then held her arms open wide to her brother. Ben moved quickly forward and hugged his sister.