by Carys Jones
‘That’s what I thought,’ Shane shook his head at her but his mouth was lifted in a half-smile. ‘I can’t imagine you in some little miniskirt and heels on a night out.’
‘Is that what people wear on night’s out these days?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ he looked down at her legs, ‘jeans just won’t cut it.’
‘Since when did you become so knowledgeable? I don’t remember you ever being Mr Club Med.’
‘Um,’ Shane loosened the top button on his grey polo shirt. He looked effortlessly smart in that and dark jeans.
‘Oh.’ Amanda closed her eyes and sighed. Deeply. ‘I guess she was the type, huh?’
‘Jayne loved to go clubbing with the girls,’ Shane recalled flatly.
‘Have you heard from her?’ Amanda tried to sound impartial although the way her heart clenched in her chest told her that she wasn’t.
‘No. I don’t expect I will.’
‘She’ll be pretty pissed when she hears that you’re in Vegas.’
‘That she will. And she cares an awful lot what people say about her.’
‘Then maybe she shouldn’t have said such horrid things about other people.’ Amanda slammed her laptop closed, feeling that her recon session was well and truly over. ‘I’m heading back to the hotel.’ She didn’t wait for Shane’s response. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she powered towards the doors and was grateful for the fresh air that filled her lungs as soon as she stepped outside.
‘Hey, wait up,’ Shane was swiftly at her side, his face pinched with concern. ‘Look, I know you hate her and with good reason but—’
‘She talked trash about my dead dad, Shane. There is no but.’
‘But,’ Shane reached for her arm and drew her to him, placing extra emphasis upon the word. ‘She was jealous of you, Amanda. And she had every right to be.’
‘I’m not going to listen to you defend her,’ she shrugged him off and started marching in the direction of her hotel.
‘She loved me,’ Shane was hurrying to keep up with her, speaking quickly.
‘Good for her,’ Amanda retorted bitterly.
‘And you were the reason I could never love her back.’
They’d reached the hotel. Amanda stiffened before the revolving doors. She could see people drifting around the lobby, pulling dark suitcases in their wake.
Will.
The wind that whipped past her almost seemed to whisper his name. This was where he’d been a boy, when he’d grown into a man. Where he’d become a father. With every step she took, Amanda felt like she was intruding, walking on his grave.
‘Let’s go inside and study the nightclubs some more.’ Amanda couldn’t acknowledge what he’d just said in Will’s town, where it felt like his ghost lingered on street corners, it would be like stamping on his grave and she didn’t wait to see the dejected look on Shane’s face so she just hurried through the doors, allowing them to swallow her up like a whirlpool.
*
When darkness fell, the city sparkled. Amanda stood at her hotel room window, admiring all the glistening lights. The streets had been claimed by the night. The clubs which Amanda had researched online would now be opening their doors, welcoming in familiar faces along with new ones. Would McAllister be there? Or did he remain a king in his castle, hidden away in the Highlands? He lived in a vast mansion, that’s what Amanda had learned about him, a vast mansion where there had once been a great fire.
Her gaze settled on a white van parked up in front of the hotel. The lights of the city gleamed against its clean roof.
‘We need a plan,’ Shane said from where he sat on the bed watching TV. ‘Like, a serious, methodical one. We need to hit each club, figure out the clientele.’
‘And what if he doesn’t show?’
‘If not him then someone who can lead us to him.’
‘We could just go straight to his house. We know where he lives.’
‘That’s far too risky,’ Shane raised his voice. ‘I’m here to keep you safe, Amanda. And I intend to do my job.’
Amanda rubbed at the plush towelling robe that covered her arms. Her hair was still damp from the shower she’d just taken. She felt conflicted. She knew that she should be down there, out in the city, amongst all the lights, walking the streets that Will had walked. She should have been searching for McAllister, peering into every darkened corner until the rat presented himself. And then what?
Amanda softly trod her way over to the desk where she’d left her laptop. The carpeted floor was coarse against her bare feet. She popped the laptop open and logged into the darknet. Shane kept watching the TV, pretending not to notice.
They only had two weeks, a finite amount of time to find McAllister. Then it was back home, back to the real world, and Amanda refused to leave Glasgow until she’d removed the threat to Ewan for good. She needed to work swiftly, efficiently. She couldn’t waste time traipsing from club to club, potentially following dead ends.
She typed out her message to Turtle82 and hit send without even waiting to consider her actions.
Let’s be real. You want me to catch this King Carp – tell me where it was last sighted.
5
At night the city stirred. As Amanda lay in bed she could hear the distant drone of car engines occasionally punctured by the shrill shriek of a siren as an emergency vehicle dashed down the streets in a blaze of blue lights. And closer than the sounds of the city, she could hear Shane sleeping. He was on his side, facing away from her, his deep breaths slow and steady. It would be so easy for Amanda to stretch out across the distance between them, to place a hand upon his shoulder, against his back, to wedge herself up close, to feel his body heat press against hers.
She missed Will so much that her body ached. She wanted to curl up in his arms, to rest her head upon his chest, to see his eyes crinkle at the corners when she made him smile. But her husband was gone.
The lies surrounding Will’s death caused her inner wounds to sting. When she thought about who he’d really been – Jake Burton, about how he’d had a son and a wife, her chest constricted as though she was about to be choked by her own despair.
Pushing back the crisp white covers, Amanda got up. She grabbed a hoody that was draped over a nearby chair and pulled it on. After tiptoeing towards the window, she carefully drew the curtains back just an inch and looked out at the city. She felt as restless as the souls that wandered the streets so late at night. Above the towering buildings the sky was a thick black blanket devoid of stars. Amanda leaned her head against the window and released a tense breath which misted the glass. Her gaze dipped and she stared dead-eyed at the white van, parked in the same position at the side of the road. The only vehicle on a busy street. Surely it was illegal to park there? Amanda considered focusing on its presence but couldn’t. This wasn’t her life, how could it be? She was meant to be in her perfect home sleeping beside her perfect husband.
Had anyone even found Will’s body?
In these quiet moments, when most of the world slept, this was the question that haunted Amanda the most. She imagined him still slumped on the damp ground of the forest, the blood which had once flowed freely from his chest dried and congealed around him growing darker by the day.
‘I should never have left him,’ Amanda pressed her fingertips against the window. But she’d had no choice. There had been Ewan and she had to protect the boy. She had to—
‘Amanda?’ Shane’s voice was clotted with sleep as she heard him sit up in the bed behind her.
‘Did I wake you?’ She turned away from the window and let the curtain fall back into place, sealing out the lights of the city that continued to twinkle like a thousand artificial stars.
‘You okay?’ Shane pushed his hand through his messy hair. Amanda noticed that his chest was bare. Her gaze dropped to the outline of lean muscles and when it kept dipping she forced herself to look up, to lock eyes with Shane.
‘I just couldn’t sleep.’
&n
bsp; ‘You should try and rest as much as you can.’ He got out of bed, revealing the low-slung pair of joggers that he’d been sleeping in, and trod a path towards the bathroom. ‘Sleep deprivation can dull even the sharpest mind,’ he threw over his shoulder before closing the door.
Amanda massaged her temple. She understood the importance of staying sharp. If she lowered her guard, even for a second, she risked McAllister finding her first. And given what she suspected he’d done to Evangeline she doubted he’d show her any kind of mercy. By all accounts the man was a monster, an animal, who deserved to be behind bars.
Or dead.
The vitriol which suddenly bubbled inside Amanda actually scared her. She clenched and unclenched her hands into fists as she went over to the desk. Opening up her laptop, she instantly saw that she had a new message from Turtle. Amanda pressed down hard on her mouse key, overly eager to read the reply.
Rumour has it that you need the right hook.
T
Amanda’s eyes danced over the message as Shane emerged from the bathroom.
‘It’s a little early for that, don’t you think? You should really try and get some rest, Amanda.’ He stood behind her and gestured towards the bed. The smell of his cologne had grown stronger, seemed fresher. ‘I can head down to the hotel gym for an hour or so, if, you know, me being in the bed is making you uncomfortable.’
‘Rumours and Hooked.’ Amanda tapped a finger against her laptop screen.
‘What?’ Shane leaned forward to peer at the message.
‘Those are the two clubs that McAllister frequents.’
‘Amanda—’
‘We just need to go there and suss him out. Assess how much security he has around him.’
‘Okay, but—’
‘Figure out which night’s he’s usually there. How long he stays for.’
‘Can you even trust this,’ Shane scrutinised the screen with increased intensity, ‘Turtle82?’ His lips curled down with disgust as he stated the username. ‘For all you know they might be working for McAllister. This might all be some kind of trap.’
Amanda shook her head. ‘No way. I’ve known Turtle82 for years. I worked with them when I was a student.’
‘What if their account has been compromised?’
‘Impossible.’ Amanda didn’t even take a second to entertain the idea. ‘Turtle82 is the best there is when it comes to hacking. Their account is an impenetrable digital fortress. Trust me.’
‘You I trust,’ Shane pointed at the laptop, ‘but this Turtle. We don’t even know who the hell they are. They’re just a name on a screen. And why are they even keen on taking down McAllister? What’s in it for them?’
‘Money, probably,’ Amanda shrugged. ‘McAllister must have pissed off the wrong person. Now they want him locked up but for their hands to remain clean. I used to work jobs like this all the time – sort of digital espionage, if you like.’
‘It’s hacking, Amanda, don’t try and dress it up.’ Shane’s nose crinkled with disgust like it always used to whenever the topic of discussion was the darknet.
‘And you devote your life to trying to find justice for dead men.’ Her voice hardened. ‘Talk about a lost cause.’
‘Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing?’ Shane took a step towards her, she could see his chest rising and falling with every beat of his heart.
‘This is about more than Will,’ Amanda retorted, raising her chin. ‘This is about Ewan. About his future.’
‘This is about revenge and you know it. McAllister might not even be looking for Ewan.’
‘I’m not going to live my life beneath that shadow of doubt. If McAllister is behind bars then he can’t hurt Ewan.’
‘I’ve seen a man’s reach extend far beyond the walls of his cell.’
‘Then what am I supposed to do? Kill him?’ Amanda noticed that the thought didn’t chill her the way it should have. Disturbed, she moved away from Shane, back towards the bed where she dropped down upon its edge, head pressed against her chest.
‘Jesus, Amanda, no!’
‘Turtle82 has a plan. They know the way to take McAllister down. And yes, they’re in it for different reasons than I am, but so what? We don’t exactly have many people on our side, Shane. At this point I’m willing to take all the allies we can find.’
‘But you’re playing a dangerous game.’ He came and sat beside her. ‘You’re trusting strangers, putting yourself in harm’s way.’
‘If I don’t then who will?’ She peered up at Shane as he looped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. She leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. ‘Ewan deserves to have someone who will fight for him.’
‘And I’ll fight for you. No matter what.’ Shane sounded far away, like he was speaking underwater. Amanda breathed in his cologne, felt the warmth of his body merge with her own as she fell asleep against his shoulder.
*
‘So we go to the club, what then?’ Shane asked the question through the bathroom door. Amanda was staring at her reflection in the large mirror that hung over the sink as she carefully applied a thick layer of mascara. She wore dark skinny jeans, black ankle boots and a silver vest top. Her hair was slightly curled as it tumbled down her back and lazy golden waves.
‘We look around,’ she shouted back before pouting and tackling her other eye.
‘I still don’t know about this.’ Shane was in the centre of the room when she came out of the bathroom, his shoulders raised and his body a coil of tightly wound nervous energy. But he looked good. His black jeans had been matched with a white shirt and grey blazer. He looked handsome, casual. His hair was loosely styled with some gel and his face freshly shaven.
‘You look…’ Amanda froze just beyond the bathroom, feeling like she was fifteen again. She remembered all too well the butterflies which had erupted in her stomach when she saw Shane all dressed up for their school disco. Back then it had been jeans and a Ramones T-shirt, but with his hair styled and a cloud of cologne flanking his every step Amanda had seen her friend for the first time not as the boy she played computer games with and made bonfires but as the man who might one day steal her heart. And that was the man who was looking at her now.
‘Stunning,’ Shane’s eyes widened as he took her in. ‘Truly, Amanda, you’re a vision.’
She gave him a nervous smile in gratitude. ‘Well, let’s get this over with, these things are already killing my feet,’ she kicked out one of her boots and playfully scowled at him.
‘Yes, but like I told you, they wouldn’t let you in if you wore your Converse.’
‘Maybe we need to test that theory,’ Amanda teased as together they went out the door.
*
A chalkboard sign on the street, though rain-splattered, told them that it was live band night at Hooked. The Decadent Dominoes were playing. The path was littered with cigarette stubs and discarded pieces of chewing gum. A plastic bag sagged in a nearby drain like a used-up washrag.
‘I think we should try Rumours,’ Shane’s hand was on the small of Amanda’s back as he helped her pick a path along the street. Since leaving the hotel, she’d almost fallen in her heels three times. ‘McAllister doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who enjoys listening to indie bands live.’
When they got there, there was a queue outside Rumours which snaked its way along the street. Women in miniskirts with legs for days giggled in groups as men openly flirted with them. The air was full of excitable, drunken chatter and Amanda felt completely out of her depth. People swore, turning the air blue and then cackled in delight. A litany of words Amanda didn’t even understand tumbled from rouge lips. The laughter was always raucous. Always dirty. The glimmer of smouldering cigarettes lit up the line like cat’s eyes. Amanda almost choked on the cloud of smoke which twisted in a halo around her head. This wasn’t her scene. The second they reached the front of the line the bouncer would take one look at her and know why she was there. They’d read the heartbreak o
n her face, see the desire for revenge lurking behind her painted eyes.
‘I can’t do this,’ she tried to drift away but Shane held her close to his side as they joined the back of the queue.
‘Yes, you can,’ he told her quietly. Confidently. ‘We’re just going to go in and have a few drinks together. Look around. That’s it.’
‘I don’t know.’ Amanda felt so socially awkward, like a teacup surrounded by champagne flutes. She stood out, seemed misplaced.
‘If you want to go back, say the word,’ Shane’s hand was in hers and their fingers threaded together like it was the most natural thing in the world. Amanda looked down at their palms clasped together. She used to think that she and Shane fit together perfectly, like when she placed her hand in his it just seemed meant to be.
With Will it had been different. In his huge hands her own had almost disappeared and she loved that. He was a giant. Her giant.
She squeezed Shane’s hand. He was right. She wasn’t sure who she was really there for anymore – Will or Ewan. It was probably both of them. And so for the man she’d loved and for boy she’d vowed to protect, Amanda pushed back her shoulders and did her best to look like she belonged. ‘I can do this,’ she whispered to herself more than to Shane.
*
Twenty minutes later and they were in the club. In the dim lighting, Amanda could make out the red-cushioned booths which lined the outer walls. On the far wall there was a long bar where the optics were displayed beneath neon blue lights. Several bartenders darted about, all wearing white shirts and black waistcoats.
In the centre of the club was the dance floor. It seemed to absorb all excess light in the room. Whilst the booths were shrouded in shadows, the dance floor was ablaze with spotlights. Even the chequered floor was lit up.
‘This place feels like the eighties threw up in here,’ Shane said into her ear as he guided her towards an empty booth. Amanda sat down and looked around. There were mainly women on the dance floor, sexually moving their bodies in time with the music as if they knew every beat, could pre-empt every change in tempo. They all looked so at ease, moving with confident fluidity. And they all looked beautiful. Every woman dancing could have been a model. They had long legs and an ethereal, graceful elegance, even when clad in small skirts and wearing too much make-up.