The Truth Will Out

by Karen J Mossman

  I smiled. “It’s true, though, isn’t it?”

  “No, it’s not true,” he said firmly. “Real life is very different. No one’s going to come knocking on the door to entice you out.”

  “You’re so sure?”

  “I am because I’m going to be the one looking after you.”

  I raised my eyebrows. Now there was a prospect. “You have the bum detail, eh?”

  He ignored that. “Your prescription is being written up and should be delivered here fairly quickly. Then we’re going to hustle you out the back door with a hood over your head.” He must have seen my alarm, because he laughed. “No, not the last bit, but one way or another we are getting you out quickly.”

  I’m glad he thought like that, because it saved me from telling him I was leaving today, whatever happened next, I was going!

  “Abby is supposed to be coming to see me.”

  “Not now she’s not.”

  “I miss her.” I looked at him for a moment wondering if I should ask.

  “What?” He said, so then I had to ask.

  “You and Abby?”

  “No, if that’s your asking. We’re friends. We went to school together, that’s all.”

  “I knew there was something, but she hasn’t said anything.”

  “Well she wouldn’t, we haven’t really seen each other since, well, you know what happened to her, don’t you?”

  I shook my head.

  “When she was a teenager, she was kidnapped by some youths.” I gaped at him for a moment in shock.

  “I thought she might have told you?”

  “No, what happened?”

  “They roughed her up a bit. It was a dare, a gang initiation thing. They knew her dad was a cop. That’s why she’s a bit high maintenance these days.”

  “Ah,” I said, realising that it explained a lot about her.

  “It’s best that you stay away from each other. She’s been mistaken for you once, and I don’t want it happening again. Looking after you is a full-time job.”

  I grinned. “One that you enjoy, I’m sure.”

  He laughed. “Anyway, I’ve got people looking at CCTV. He’s long gone, but there may be something we can pick up.”

  “Swiftly side-tracked, Inspector.”

  There was a knock on the door and Janet came in. “Hi Sarah, hope you are feeling a bit better now?” She gave Ryan a swift smile.

  “I am, especially now that I am being looked after by the police.”

  She grinned. “Lucky you!” I knew she thought him attractive. She hardly kept her eyes off him.

  “You still have to come back to have your stitches removed, and I’ll replace the dressing.” She handed over a paper bag. “This is your medication to keep any pain at bay while your head heals. Apart from that, you should be just fine.”

  “Thanks Janet, although, I don’t know if I can come back.”

  “Probably not,” said Ryan. “We’ll arrange for someone to come to you.”

  I nodded.

  “And if you start feeling sick or dizzy, you must contact us immediately, because normally, we’d prefer you to stay in a bit longer, just to make sure you are fully recovered. Now no more stress, just rest, you understand?” She was mainly looking at Ryan.

  “I do, thanks for your help. I really appreciate it,” I said.

  She smiled. “I’m just doing my job, but glad to help.”

  There was another knock on the door, and a uniformed officer came in as Janet went out. I mumbled something about it being like Piccadilly Train Station and noticed he was carrying a holdall. My holdall.

  Ryan got up. “Oh great, thanks, Jeff.” He turned back to me as the officer went out. “I’ve had some of your things brought over, so at least you can dress.”

  “Erm, thanks,” I said, not wanting to imagine Jeff rummaging around my knicker’s drawer.

  I went into the bathroom and changed. The quicker I did it, the quicker we could be out of here.

  I glanced in the mirror and wished I hadn’t. My face was a mess. There were black and blue bruises and bags under my eyes. I could hardly be called pretty now. That had to be a bonus.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Sarah

  Ryan and I didn’t speak much in the car as we left the hospital. He only asked me if I was all right a couple of times.

  I sat quietly staring out the window, feeling vulnerable again now that I was on the outside. Whoever was out there could be watching me right now.

  We made our way to the village of Ashton on Mersey, just a few miles from where I lived and we came to a stop at a metal gate. Ryan opened his window and activated the gate by swiping a card over a box on the wall. The gate opened slowly and took us into a car park, which was sectioned off into parking spaces with apartment numbers painted on the ground.

  The building was L-shaped, four stories high with well-maintained gardens.

  “This is a fancy safe house,” I said, noticing how there were flowered tubs in one corner. Probably belonging to one of the residents, they were aesthetically pleasing.

  Opening the door, I got out of the car as Ryan went to the boot for my holdall. We walked to the front door, and he swiped a metal square with the same card.

  “I should be pretty safe here, it’s like Fort Knox,” I commented.

  “Exactly,” he agreed, as we went inside and pressed the lift button. Even that came straight away. Just as the doors were closing, a hand grabbed them.

  “Oh, hi!” It was a girl with dark hair and gold coloured glasses.

  “Hi, Zoe,” he said with a self-conscious smile, and to me, he said, “This is my neighbour who lives across the hall.”

  I looked at him and back at her with confusion.

  “Yep,” he said. “This is where I live.”

  Zoe looked between us, obviously wondering what was going on. “Nice to meet you,” she said to me, giving Ryan a lingering look as we stepped out of the lift.

  Opening the front door, he let me walk in first. There was a small hallway with four doors leading off it. He indicated which door I should go through. I stopped and stared at the room, then looked at him. “Why are we here?” I asked, looking around his personal space.

  “We do have a safe house, but it’s being used. There are hotels we could have put you in, but I didn’t want you there. I wanted somewhere I knew you’d be safe.”

  “Your flat?”

  “Apartment. We call them apartments here. It’s secure, and you did mention Fort Knox.”

  I chuckled. “I did.”

  It was lovely with a square window on one wall and a large window with a balcony on the other. It made the room light and bright. His personal possessions were everywhere. I liked seeing this other side of him: a sports trophy, a photograph, probably of his parents. A golf ball and tee were in a dish with a few coins.

  “Kitchen is here,” he said, and I turned to see another door that led to a small galley kitchen. “All mod cons,” he added, making me laugh.

  “And if you come with me, I shall show you to your room.”

  “I hope we get room service,” I said, still chuckling. For a moment I forgot my predicament as I followed this handsome guy into a bedroom. What more could a girl want?

  Later, I settled in and the reality of the situation hit me. Especially when Ryan told me to keep away from the windows. Jeff, the uniformed officer, was outside in the corridor as a safeguard.

  The novelty of being in Ryan’s flat wore off as I realised why I was here and how real the threat was.

  “Someone from Witness Protection is coming to see you tomorrow,” he said, as we sat in his lounge on separate chairs. He was dressed casually, and I kind of liked seeing him sitting, relaxed in his own home. It added another dimension to him.

  “Did they say what was wrong with the number? I’m sure I didn’t get it wrong.”

  “No, but they did say there was a problem and will explain it tomorrow.”

  I was glad. I
hadn’t told Ryan anything yet, and it would be a relief unburden myself.

  I didn’t sleep that well, strange place and all that, which is par for the course really after what had happened. My head was out of sorts. I really wanted Mr Pillow as there is nothing like your own for a better night’s sleep.

  The next morning, I asked Ryan if there was any chance of returning to the flat to pick up some more things.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Was his reaction.

  I laughed and waved my hand at him. “Course I am, I don’t need clothes, or my laptop, or my yoga stuff for that matter. Why have those when I can sit in front of the TV all day?”

  He gave me that look, and I sank down into the chair.

  “Do you ever take anything seriously? Don’t you understand that someone is after you?”

  I crossed my legs and stared at him. “Of course, I do. But do you expect me to sit here and do nothing all day?”

  “I expect you to keep yourself safe. We don’t know who is watching your flat. We’re not just sitting on our hands; you know? I’ve got people on it even when I’m here. I just want to make sure you settle in first.”

  “I’ll settle in better when I have something to do.”

  He gave me a steely stare. “All right. I’ll go myself. Tell me what you need and where to find it.”

  I gave him a big grin. “I knew you cared, really.”

  He shook his head and went into the kitchen.

  When the two people from Witness Protection arrived, I felt better. I needed to relieve myself of this burden. I wasn’t on my own anymore; everything would be out in the open. I hoped my handler would come, although I wasn’t sure he would travel this far.

  “Sarah. I’m Detective Sergeant Wendy Caruthers and this is DC Ben Constantine.” She held out her hand, which I shook and then did the same for the guy. He looked a little uncomfortable, and I wondered if he was new at this.

  Sitting down, I watched Wendy Caruthers get a book from her bag and place it on her lap. If that was my file, it looked awfully slim. It felt like a weight was about to be lifted off my shoulders.

  I should have known better.

  “I’m sorry that Karl couldn’t come,” I said and saw a brief look pass over Constantine’s face. “Karl Renshaw, my handler?” I clarified.

  I watched Caruthers open her book. There was a blank pad there. She wrote: Karl Renshaw. I looked at his name feeling confused.

  “I had hoped he would have come,” I said, remembering the man I had come to depend on. He was in his late fifties with receding hair, a big frame, and a commanding voice that inspired confidence. He made me feel safe.

  Wendy Caruthers cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, Sarah. We thought you might be one of his. Karl had a sudden heart attack last year. He was sitting at his desk and just went. It was a terrible shock for everyone.”

  My heart dropped, and I glanced at Ryan who was sitting in the armchair silently. “Oh, no. That’s terrible. Things just got pulled together when he came to see me. I liked him.”

  I looked at the floor and for a moment I could hear his voice. It was always distinctive. How could he be dead?

  “So, what happens now? I don’t want to go back to being Kelly, or become anyone else. I don’t know for sure who’s behind this. It’s likely to be Johnny. He can still reach out from prison. I don’t know how he could have found me. I’ve been careful.”

  They were staring at me, and I knew then something was very wrong. “What’s the matter?”

  Ryan was looking a little puzzled too.

  Caruthers seemed to take a deep breath. “Sarah, within a week of Karl’s passing, there was a major fire at one of our servers.”

  I had no idea what that meant. Constantine’s eyes flicked from Caruthers back to me. “It’s where we hold all our information,” he said.

  “You mean everything is lost?” Ryan asked, although his voice told me it wasn’t a question.

  “What do you mean?” I still didn’t get it.

  Caruthers looked directly at me. “What we’re saying is that all our data was gone, and it was only the handlers who could tell us where everyone was.”

  I frowned. “Except Karl.”

  She nodded. “We don’t know anything about your case, everything we had about you is gone.”

  I tried to take in what she was saying. I looked at Ryan and he was frowning.

  “Nothing?” He asked.

  “Nothing,” she repeated. “I know it’s a bit of a shock, and I’m really sorry to have to be telling you this, but I need to take all the details from you again. Who you were, the trial dates, who you put away, what they did, etc.”

  I shook my head; this couldn’t be happening. “You mean you don’t know Johnny, Pete, or anybody?”

  “We’ve known for a long time that people like you were out there, but we had no way of locating you. Everything pertaining to your case was lost, and more unfortunately, we have no Karl to tell us what he was working on, or what telephone numbers were given out and to whom.”

  My blood pounded in my ears and my chest felt tight. “You mean, you mean, I’ve been in the wind all this time?” I stammered.

  “Yes,” she said, looking sorrowful.

  I got to my feet, not knowing if I was incredibly angry or incredibly upset.

  “You’re telling me, you’re not even watching anyone, and that I’m an easy target?”

  Ryan stood up looking concerned. “Sarah, sit down.”

  “Screw you!” I snapped, even though I knew it wasn’t his fault. “These people promised to look after me and I’ve been a target all this time!”

  I couldn’t help myself as I got more and more upset. Everyone was on their feet now.

  “I don’t think it’s been a matter of being a target,” Ryan said, trying to pacify me.

  “I’m really sorry,” Caruthers said at the same time. “I know it’s a shock.”

  “Well, you could say that!” I said. “You’re all the bloody same, you cops. You promised to look after me and instead you’ve hung me out too dry.”

  I marched to the balcony door.

  “Sarah!” Ryan snapped, making a grab for my arm. “Get away from the window!”

  I threw my arms up, looking out below. “I’m here, I’ve always been here right for you to see.”

  Ryan grabbed me and yanked me away, and I’m afraid to say I lost it. I threw my arms wildly to get him off and refused to move from the window.

  “I did it for you,” I yelled at Caruthers even though deep down I knew it wasn’t her. “You all conned me into trusting you to get him off the streets. And you caught me when I was vulnerable.” I continued to rage as Ryan scooped me up around the waist and physically moved me to the centre of the room.

  “I’m sorry but it was unforeseeable,” Caruthers was raising her voice, to get above mine.

  “You’re sorry?” I said, trying to disentangle myself from Ryan to get at her. I don’t know what I thought I was going to do.

  “All right!” Ryan snapped. “Enough! You two better leave and give Sarah some space.”

  I felt like my head wanted to explode. “Yes, get the fuck out of here, you’re no use to me.”

  I turned away from them and my whole body felt cold. I just couldn’t look at them anymore. How could they? How could they hang me out to dry like that? I heard them talking in the hallway as Ryan saw them out.

  My breath was coming out in lumps. I couldn’t seem to stop as I pressed my hands against my cheeks.

  Ryan came back into the room and I said, “All this time I thought I was protected. I thought I was being looked after—”

  “I know, I know. Come on, Sarah, take nice slow breaths. You’ve had a lot to take in.”

  “No, shit Sherlock,” I said just wanting to bury my head in Mr Pillow and forget about everything.

  “It’s not right, and it’s not fair.” I whimpered as my shoulders sagged, and I’d have gone to my knees if Ryan hadn’t ca
ught me in time.

  I’m not one for dramatics, I’m really not, but sometimes a girl can only take so much. He turned me towards him, and I crumbled. His arms went around my back, and he didn’t say anything. He just held me.

  After a few moments, he said, “Why don’t you go and lie down for a while. I’ll go to your flat and pick up the stuff you wanted. Jeff will be outside.”

  I nodded. I really did want to be left alone. I was exhausted.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Sarah

  I didn’t expect to sleep, but I did. When I awoke, Ryan was in the lounge reading.

  “Hi,” I said, feeling a little embarrassed.

  He smiled and put his book down. “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine.” I gave him a cheesy grin. “Calmer.”

  “Good. You hungry?”

  “Yes.”

  He opened the kitchen door and the smell of food wafted out.

  “Sit yourself down,” he said indicating the table in the corner of the room. “I hope you like lasagne?”

  “I do,” I said as my stomach growled.

  He came back in and placed a big green salad on the table.

  “Can I do anything?”

  “Nope. It’s all done.”

  He went out again and came back with a bottle of red wine and two wine glasses. He placed them on the table, popped the cork, and poured.

  “Cheers,” I said, saluting him.

  He chinked my glass and took a sip. Putting it on the table, he went back into the kitchen.

  “Are you sure I can’t help with anything?” I asked again.

  “I’m sure. By the way, your stuff is by the settee.”

  I got up and went over to see. My yoga mat, laptop, and Mr Pillow, amongst other things, were all there.

  “Thank you,” I said as he came back with the plated lasagne.

  We began eating and then he said, “The WP are coming back tomorrow. I know that’s not what you want—”

  “It is,” I interrupted. “I behaved really badly last night. I became Kelly again and that’s not who I am anymore. It won’t happen again. I’ll get back on track.”

  “You’ve nothing to be sorry for. I think I’d have gone ape-shit too.”