Jacob had refused to leave and was curled up on the sofa fast asleep. She’d sat in the armchair next to her brother for over an hour, trying to drop off. She loved the fact that her brother was so protective. He’d always been that way. Even after he’d come back from Afghanistan, injured and hurting, he always made sure she was okay. She’d been terrified the whole time he’d been in Afghanistan. And when she’d had the call to say he was injured and being brought back on medical transport, she’d almost fallen apart. TJ had done the only thing she knew how to do when she saw him in hospital, crying in pain when the doctors had barely managed to save his leg. She’d pushed him on – given him the motivation he needed to continue. Because that’s what siblings did. They encouraged each other, supported each other and loved each other. He’d been everything to her since their parents had died. And seeing him sleeping on her couch brought all those feelings back. He’d never looked as peaceful and contented as he did right now. TJ knew that was down to Ben and Grace – he had a family of his own now.
She couldn’t sit there all night reminiscing – she’d tried cleaning but quickly grew bored of that. Jackson had texted her when he’d finished putting his jobs through the computer at work. It had been almost 2am when he’d left, and she was sure he was tucked up in his bed by now. She’d tried read a book and given that up as a bad job after reading the same paragraph three times. Now, she decided it was time for her real go-to comfort task. Baking. She knew her stables would be overrun with people tomorrow – she didn’t even know how many to expect. A dead body was a big deal. Especially when said body was a suspected victim in a murder enquiry. Jackson had already pre-warned her the cops would be there for days, if not longer.
She pulled the latest batch of banana tea bread out of the oven and placed the tray containing chocolate cake mixes inside.
TJ felt quite proud of herself, really – the TMD she’d suffered since the attack hadn’t occurred in almost two days now. This was progress, especially with everything going on. She really couldn’t wait for her upcoming appointment. Hopefully this time it would be sorted forever and she wouldn’t be in a constant state of ‘what if’.
She hummed to herself as she busied her mind washing up and turning cakes out onto the cooling racks.
‘I thought I could smell something amazing. You okay, sis? You should be asleep. It’s been a helluva day.’
‘I know – can’t drop off, though. I’ve cleaned all downstairs, stripped the beds upstairs and then started baking. Figured there’d be enough people hanging around tomorrow. When I’m done in here, I’m tempted to get the Christmas tree up. Would that be crass and unfeeling, do you think? Should I leave it down?’
‘Christmas is a time of hope. I’d say if ever we needed a little hope, it’s now. Even if all it does is make you feel a bit better, then it’s worth it. Where is the tree and decorations? I’ll get them and make a start while you crack on with baking. I’ll expect some of that amazing melt-in-the-mouth flapjack you make, though, as a thank you for being your awake buddy.’
‘As if you’d ever let me bake without making you flapjack. The tree and stuff are in the spare bedroom – I just dumped it in there when I moved in after Stella left. I rang her, you know, earlier today, just to let her know what’s happening. She’s in total shock about it all. Can’t believe it, really. Me either. I mean Barry’s worked here forever. He’s always seemed nice and together. How can you know someone without really knowing someone? It’s that that’s messing with my head. I didn’t mention Barry, don’t worry – Alex told me not to. But still.’
‘It’s always the unknown that’s scary, sis. Don’t worry. They’ll get to the bottom of it.’
‘I know. It’s just frustrating and terrifying in the meantime.’ Jacob gave her a quick hug before moving out of the kitchen, leaning on his walking stick. She could still hear him whistling Christmas tunes as he made his way up the stairs.
* * *
19th December, 0330 hours – woods near Rainbow Riding Stables
Barry knew no one would be about at this time in the morning. Half the world was tucked up in their warm beds on this cold, frosty night. He’d parked at his usual spot and walked quietly to the clearing, just in case anyone was lurking about.
A few good hundred metres before he arrived, he could hear a man and woman talking up ahead. He slowed his pace right down, taking care as he stepped.
The crunching of the snow was as loud as a crack of a whip when the woods were silent. Whoever those people were, there was no way he could approach quietly.
He paused by a thick tree and listened hard.
Snippets of the conversation carried over on the slight breeze – and Barry went into total panic. He heard words including police station and CID and put two and two together. They’d found them. His Angels.
How the hell did they find them? I left nothing – no evidence.
But he knew he had left evidence. Blood from Alan’s throat being cut, for a start. TJ had seen it – she must have told the police.
Anger brewed, and he ground his teeth together hard.
Who the hell does she think she is? Telling them about my Angels. They’re MINE!
She would pay. This wasn’t on. He was willing to forgive her for straying into his clearing, but to tell the police – well, that was the ultimate crime.
He knew the woods like the back of his hand – it took him less than fifteen minutes to make his way silently round to the house. He was surprised to see the lights on, though – it was the early hours of the morning.
There was only one reason he could think of that they’d be turned on.
The police had someone with her – they suspected he was a danger to her.
Just go away – hole up somewhere. Come back another time.
But he couldn’t face it. Just the thought of people standing so close to his Angels made him feel sick. They were HIS! He’d nurtured them, showed them how to trust him, he knew they all loved him. Each and every one of them.
This isn’t fair. It wasn’t supposed to be like this!
He knew he couldn’t very well break into the house now, not with what he believed to be cops inside. They’d catch him and lock him up. And if he was locked up, he’d never be able to sort this whole mess out.
All he needed was the space to think, clear his head. Sort out his plan of action. He was good with plans. Plans helped.
It’s not even TJ’s fault, really. It’s hers – Sally’s fault. If she hadn’t escaped, then none of this would have happened.
More determined than ever, he decided he’d head back to the hospital – she would be coming with him without any arguments. She would be the first Angel – all over again. In a new location, one where no one would ever find him. He would kill her, and then, he’d kill himself and join her. Together, forever, in the place no one could ever rip them apart.
* * *
19th December, 0830 hours – Rainbow Riding Stables
Jackson pulled the CSI van into the car park at the stables – it already held several vehicles, but he managed to get parked, and he and Kev jumped out of the van. TJ looked shattered, but she’d somehow set up some tables outside that held what looked suspiciously like bacon sandwiches, flasks of coffee and a small mountain of cakes and goodies.
‘You been up all night?’ he asked, pulling her into his side and kissing her on the cheek.
‘Yeah, I couldn’t sleep. I’ll crash later, I’m sure, but figured you all could at least do with breakfast before you get started. What time’s the archaeologist coming?’
‘About nine, she said; she’s coming up from Birmingham. Hell of a drive. We’ll get started on excavating the soil when she gets here.’
‘How long does it take? Getting the body out, I mean?’
‘Honestly, I have no idea. It’s my first time working with the archaeologist. Kev?’ Jackson redirected her question to Kev as he approached, sniffing the air eagerly.
‘Is th
at bacon? For us?’
‘Sure is – help yourself.’ TJ smiled as he grabbed one of the sandwiches off the tray.
‘What was the question?’ Kev mumbled with his mouth full.
‘How long does it take to excavate the body?’
‘Depends – on the archaeologist but also on the condition of the corpse. We might find when we dig the soil out that the body is still pretty much intact and will come out in one piece. Or we might find it’s not.’ Kev left the other description out.
‘Okay, just so I know what to expect. Thank you.’
‘You know you don’t have to do this – cook for us all. We can get the major incident van up here – it’s probably the best idea, anyway, with how cold it is.’
‘Does it come with sandwiches and cake?’ TJ’s glib response drew a smile.
‘No, but it has a kettle and hot drink supplies. The sandwiches and cakes are appreciated. I just don’t want to put you out.’
‘When I don’t sleep I bake, have done for as long as I can remember. That’s the reason for the cakes. So, you weren’t putting me out, don’t worry.’
A shiny, red BMW pulled into the car park with a squeal and braked sharply just avoiding hitting one of the marked police cars. The woman who got out had mid-length, curly blonde hair, a pair of glasses perched on her nose and wore a black trouser suit. She looked very official, and Jackson glanced at TJ to see if she knew who it was. TJ shrugged a little in denial.
‘Which one of you stunning pieces of man flesh is Kevin Lang?’
Kevin stumbled, swallowing the large, half-masticated piece of sandwich and causing it to get stuck in his throat. He coughed and spluttered, taking a long sip from the coffee in his hand.
‘Umm, that would be me. Can I help you?’
‘Well, I bloody hope so – you called me, not the other way round, though that might be ’cos I don’t have your number – yet. I’m Martina Redman, the forensic archaeologist you requested. Show me to where you found the body – I’ll follow. Don’t worry if you think I’m checking you out as you walk ahead – I probably am, but I don’t bite. Often.’
Jackson smiled widely at her – he’d never met anyone quite as out there as this one seemed to be.
Kevin was obviously flustered – ‘Just follow me, ma’am. I mean, Martina. Or is it Doctor?’
‘Only in the bedroom, sugar. Tina is fine. Now, lead the way.’ She winked at Jackson as she purred the words, and he felt his cheeks start to burn.
‘I’ll follow you down in a sec. I’ll grab the kit from the van, Kev.’
Kevin raised his eyebrows at Jackson, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, then turned and walked towards the treeline.
‘What the heck was that?’ muttered Jackson under his breath.
‘She certainly seems to be a tease. Not what I’d have expected of a forensic archaeologist,’ said TJ.
‘No, me neither. Or anyone else, for that matter. Bit OTT for my liking. We’ll see what she’s like to work with – not holding my breath, though.’
Jackson squeezed TJ’s hand before heading to the van to get the kit he needed.
25
19th December, 0940 hours – Sunderland Royal Hospital
Barry had waited until daylight, so it didn’t look suspicious him entering the hospital. He displayed Mohammed Iqbal’s ID badge round his neck and had changed out of the casual clothes he had been in last time, into a shirt and trousers.
When he took Sally, he wanted to look professional. Like he had every right to be in the hospital.
He made his way straight up in the lifts to Ward thirty-two. Visiting hours hadn’t started yet, so he knew the nurses would be busy with rounds. He paused by the entrance door and pretended to be examining his phone. He didn’t have to wait long – one of the orderlies opened the door and pushed a man in a wheelchair through. Acting like it was the most natural thing in the world, Barry entered the ward.
He strode down the corridor, hearing an alarm sound in one of the rooms and moved to one side as the nurses ran from the station.
Hopefully whatever it was would keep them occupied while he got his Angel out of there.
He reached the nurses station and made a beeline for Sally’s room in the corner. The board was blank now – odd, since it had said Sarah last time. Still, this was definitely the right room. He pushed the door open and paused, shocked to see the empty bed, not even made up yet. Its blue mattress was stark against the cream walls.
The room next to it had the name Colin Watson on the board. He pushed the door open, and the elderly man turned his head towards the door, staring at him blankly.
Where the hell is she?
Thinking they might have moved her into one of the multi-person rooms, he quickly scanned the boards as he passed. No one named Sarah or Sally showed.
Shit – has she been discharged? I don’t even know where she lives! Or maybe she died? But that can’t be – her injuries weren’t that bad.
He pushed the button on the wall to open the doors to the lift area, and it slammed against the wall with the force of his push.
What the hell am I going to do now?
He tapped his foot against the floor as he thought. Reception! They can tell me if she’s been discharged. And will have her address!
The lift took an eternity to arrive, but he stepped inside as soon as the doors opened and pressed the button for the ground floor repeatedly until the doors closed. All the way down in the lift, Barry was wracking his brains, trying to remember what the name board had said Sally’s surname was. And remember to ask for Sarah – idiot. Sarah Amani? Aminie? He swore under his breath, slamming his hands on the side of the lift.
Think! Think! AMARI! Sarah Amari. That’s it.
By the time the lift reached the bottom floor, he’d calmed his expression. He practically jogged to the reception area.
‘Excuse me, sorry to bother you. I’m new here, and I can’t remember what ward my patient is on. It’s Sarah Amari?’
Unexpected suspicion glinted in the receptionist’s eye, as if the name was familiar to her already.
‘Let me ring round, and I’ll see if I can locate her. The computers are offline at the minute.’
She picked the phone up, her cheeks turning pink as she touched one of the speed dials on her phone.
‘Hi, it’s Claire from reception. I’ve got a doctor here looking for Sarah Amari? Is she on your ward?’
Sweat started to bead on Claire’s top lip. She’s lying. She’s not ringing the ward. RUN!
He turned on his heel and ran out of the main entrance.
There’ll be CCTV all over the place. What can I do?
Thinking on his feet, Barry ducked into the A&E door next to the main entrance. Passing the busy department by, he grabbed a random clipboard off the surface and made his way through a set of double doors that led into a corridor. Signs in blue above his head indicated he was heading towards the x-ray dept. There was also a sign for the outpatients.
It would be a different exit – he was sure of it. So, he turned right, dumped the clipboard on the nearest chair, then rushed past another busy reception and out of the doors. He was right, this exit was at the other side of the building – too far from the car he was using for him to get there without being seen.
Fuck the car. It was only a runabout. He’d paid out of his stash money and hadn’t registered the change with DVLA. He saw a bus coming over the brow of the hill near the traffic lights. Pelting across the outpatient’s car park, he made it to the bus stop outside in time to stick his hand out.
‘One to Hendon, please.’ He chose to sit in the middle seat at the back of the bus – far enough away from the windows that he couldn’t be spotted.
He drew in several shaky breaths – the hospital knew. They knew he was going to ask for her. Which meant only one thing. She’d told the police he’d been there.
Acid rose up to his throat, and he coughed, wincing as the burning liquid hit
his throat. All this stress was not good for his health.
There was only one thing he wanted to do now.
Visit his Angels and tell them what a shit day he’d had. They’d still be there. He could feel them watching over him even now. They had to still be there.
He closed his eyes for a moment, visualising her beautiful face, her open mouth. In his mind, he saw her lips move. ‘Come to me,’ she whispered. And he knew he was right. They were still there. They still loved him.
* * *
19th December, 1900 hours – Rainbow Riding Stables
Jackson was exhausted. He, Kev and Martina had spent the majority of the day carefully digging through soil and freeing the body. It was female and had been there for at least a few weeks, according to the archaeologist. The cold snap had stopped it decaying as much as it normally would over that period, so she’d still been intact as they got her out.
The results from the blood on the snow had come back a few hours ago on a rush job from the DNA lab. It was a match to Alan’s body. Being advised of this had prompted Martina to hire ground-penetrating radar to check for further bodies. The machinery was due to arrive the next day.
She’d left a few minutes before, heading for her hotel and squealing out of the car park in her red car.
Her energy had been draining on Jackson and Kevin – they’d both given up trying to be civil with her and just put up with the constant barrage of personal questions and comments. It felt totally unprofessional, but she seemed to be damn good at her job, so they’d let it slide. The thought of another day with her, however, had them both on edge and grumpy already.
Jackson was supposed to be off on rest days but he’d requested to come in and see the case through. Kevin had agreed, on the proviso he took it back as time, rather than money, so it didn’t affect the overtime budget.
The last car left the car park, carrying the cops that had been on the scene cordons. The nightshift had come on early to replace them. He knew they’d be over the moon to get home – it made it an extra-long day when you were standing still in the cold for long periods. He didn’t envy them that job at all.
Under The Woods: a heart-stopping police thriller (The Forensic Files Book 4) Page 25