Last Witness

by Carys Jones

  But how could she fight? Or run? The pressure on the back of her head was a deadly reminder of how easily McAllister could plunge her into an eternal darkness.

  ‘Well, Mrs Thorn, it seems our delightful evening together has turned rather unpleasant.’

  Thorn.

  He said her surname like he could feel it sticking into his side, grimacing as he passed Will’s chosen pseudonym through his lips.

  The muscles in Amanda’s body tightened.

  ‘Ah, you’re wondering how I knew,’ McAllister sounded amused. He briefly released the gun from the back of her head and spun her chair around so that she was facing him. Amanda tried to read his expression but she kept looking into the barrel of the gun which was aimed squarely at her temple. ‘Did you think me a fool?’

  Somehow Amanda managed to shake her head.

  ‘I’ve known who you were from the moment you walked into my club with your friend.’ There was no weight added to the word friend.

  Amanda tore her eyes away from the gun to look at McAllister. She shuddered at the maniacal grin upon his face. He dragged his free hand down his face, laughing lightly to himself. The gun trained on Amanda never so much as lowered even a fraction of an inch.

  ‘I mean, I have to hand it to old Jakey Boy, he’s got good taste.’ McAllister took a step towards her and Amanda recoiled even though she had nowhere to go. It was so surreal to think that less than a half hour ago she’d shared a passionate embrace with the man now toting a gun at her. ‘You intrigued me,’ McAllister continued. ‘When you showed up in Rumours, I figured I’d go along with your little game. See what you wanted.’ He looked past her, at his laptop. ‘And now I know.’

  ‘You killed Will.’ Amanda spat through clenched teeth. McAllister blurred in her vision through the tears that were silently washing down her cheeks.

  ‘Jake,’ McAllister tersely corrected her. ‘I killed Jake. Only I didn’t. Someone did it for me. As you’ve figured out by now, I’m not the kind of man who likes to get my hands dirty.’ The mask had slipped and McAllister had revealed the monster he kept hidden beneath his expensive suits and crooked smile.

  ‘And Evie?’

  ‘Oh, Evangeline,’ he drew the name out, enjoying watching Amanda squirm. ‘I heard that Jake’s wife OD’d. Such a shame. Makes me wonder why you’ve even bothered coming up here since you’re not his real wife.’

  ‘You’re an animal.’

  ‘I’m a businessman,’ McAllister calmly countered. He released her from his gaze to glance back towards his bedroom door. Amanda shifted in her chair, wondering if she could run, and where she could go. ‘When someone crosses me in the business world I have to send a message, ensuring that they or anyone like them, don’t get to cross me again.’

  ‘Will was a good man.’ Amanda clung to her memories. The first time she’d seen Will he’d made her heart race. He’d seemed so mysterious back then. And he made her feel so safe. In his arms she’d been certain that nothing could ever hurt her.

  ‘Jake. His name was Jake. He lay you down in a bed of lies, sweetheart. Not that I blame him. It’s such a shame that you couldn’t have delayed spiking my drink for another couple of hours. I’d have liked to have tasted what made Jake forget himself like he did.’

  McAllister grinned at her. There was no warmth in the smile, no compassion. Just a wolfish hunger.

  ‘I suspected you might spike my drink so I switched it when you weren’t looking. I figured you wouldn’t be able to resist a glimpse of a first edition. What was in it by the way? I had one of my men try it and he’s dead to the world now. I mean, he isn’t actually dead, is he? He will wake up?’

  Amanda clenched her jaw and blinked away her tears. Why hadn’t she been smarter? Why hadn’t she anticipated that McAllister might have been on to her all along? She’d turned her back to him, admired his collection of books and given him ample opportunity to make the switch.

  Because she was desperate.

  The truth stabbed at Amanda as sharply as any knife ever could. Her desperation had made her reckless and now she was going to die. She’d failed Ewan. And Shane. She’d failed everyone.

  ‘I’d be impressed if you’d killed him,’ McAllister waved the gun at her. ‘It would have shown a level of commitment I didn’t think you had in you.’

  He took another step closer, standing just a few inches away from the chair. Amanda pressed her spine against the back of it, trying to keep as much distance between her and McAllister as she possibly could.

  ‘You know,’ he twisted his head to look at his bed. ‘We’ve got a few minutes before everyone comes to join us. I told them to hold off for a bit. I figured I could still get to enjoy what’s on offer.’ McAllister’s free hand surged forward and pulled at the front of her dress. The buttons popped open with little resistance, revealing all the black and red lace and satin beneath. ‘Oh my. Well it seems a shame to let such a fancy get-up go to waste.’

  As he leaned in, his hand groping for her waist, Amanda reacted. She slapped him hard across the face. Hard enough to redden his cheek.

  ‘Ha,’ McAllister gave a hollow laugh as he straightened, massaging the right side of his face. ‘You’ve still got a bit of fight in you. I respect that.’

  Amanda didn’t see the gun coming. McAllister moved with frightening speed, smacking the butt against the side of her face, causing Amanda to almost topple to the floor. As she steadied herself she felt the warmth of blood trickling down from the corner of her mouth. Gasping, she fought against the pain and made herself look up at him. Her cheek felt like it was on fire.

  ‘I’m guessing that your little plan was to take something from my laptop, something incriminating, and have me locked up. Right?’

  Amanda was silent.

  ‘Only that’s a decoy. Of course it is. I’d never keep my actual computer on display like that. I had another tech nerd like yourself draw up a load of false accounts for you, let you think you were onto something.’

  He must have seen the surprise in Amanda’s eyes.

  ‘I know all about you, Mrs Thorn,’ his eyes glistened with malice. ‘I know about your hacker past. About all your darknet friends. You don’t get to where I am without knowing how to watch your back. I have people constantly watching mine. And in turn I pay people to watch theirs. Who’s watching your back, Mrs Thorn? Because it sure as shit ain’t Jake anymore.’

  Shane.

  Amanda needed to get a message to him. Needed to tell him to get the hell away from the mansion, to get himself somewhere safe. To protect Ewan.

  ‘Not that Jake did protect you. Because at the first sign of trouble he ran, right?’

  ‘He was protecting—’ When Amanda opened her mouth to speak she tasted the coppery bitterness of her own blood.

  ‘His son.’ McAllister interrupted. ‘He thought he was protecting the boy. Only he wasn’t. He came back for her. You must know that by now, right? I would never have hurt the kid. Jake knew that. You saw the pictures of my girls.’

  Amanda hung her head.

  ‘They were my angels and I lost them to this world that I live in. You can’t imagine that kind of pain. You feel it with every beat of your heart. It’s fucking awful. I wouldn’t hurt a kid, no matter how big a prick they have for a father.’

  ‘Revenge.’ Amanda lifted a hand to swipe at her bloodied mouth. When she lowered it the back shone with a streak of bright crimson. ‘You’d kill someone’s child because someone killed yours.’

  ‘No,’ McAllister’s voice hardened. ‘I mean, I use my tragedy. I don’t usually have pictures of my girls plastered all over the place, it’d be somewhat maudlin, don’t you think? But I wanted you to see them. Thought it might help me get in your pants a bit quicker.’

  Amanda turned away from him, hating herself for how willingly she’d allowed herself to be lured into his trap.

  McAllister grabbed her chin, forcing her gaze back upon him and holding her head in place.

  ‘I wou
ld never hurt a child. In this game there are rules. If someone hurts me, I get to hurt them back. It’s that simple.’

  ‘Evie,’ Amanda fought to get her words out against the pressure being applied to her jaw. McAllister was squeezing her chin, tightening his grip. ‘She was innocent.’

  He gave a dark chuckle and released her. ‘No,’ he took a step back from her. ‘She was about as innocent as you are, sweetheart. Seems old Jakey had a knack for getting women to do his dirty work for him. You should have just let it be.’

  Four men burst into the room behind McAllister. All wearing black. All carrying guns. They gathered around him like a pack of hungry dogs awaiting their next command.

  ‘You should have gone home when you had the chance, Amanda. You should have gone home and never looked back. And who knows,’ he gave a flippant shrug, ‘maybe I’ll change my policy on killing children just for you. So that all your efforts in coming here weren’t in vain.’

  Amanda was screaming. ‘Don’t hurt him! Don’t hurt Ewan! He’s just a boy!’

  McAllister gave a subtle nod and his men encircled her. They forced her to her feet and roughly placed her hands behind her back, binding her wrists together with a plastic tie. Then they started pushing her towards the door, not caring when she almost tripped over her own feet.

  ‘Please,’ she pleaded with them, looking between their blank faces. ‘Don’t let him do this. Just let me go. Please.’

  ‘Shut her up,’ McAllister barked from where he stood outside of Amanda’s line of sight. A fist connected with her cheekbone and then everything went dark.

  *

  The cold snap of evening air against her face woke Amanda up. She was outside the front of the mansion, beside the car which had originally brought her in from the city, her hands bound behind her back. Her shirt dress fluttered around her like a flag at half-mast, revealing her expensive lingerie. To her left was a burly guard who held a rifle against his chest. His mouth was set in a hard line and he kept looking towards the house and the front doors where McAllister stood, his head bent in discussion with another guard.

  ‘What will he do to me?’ Amanda wondered weakly. It seemed strange that she wasn’t already dead. Her face throbbed with the promise of a vast bruise. She could feel the blood gathering beneath the skin, her body desperately trying to repair the damage that had been done.

  The guard didn’t respond. He just kept looking ahead, towards his master.

  A minute stretched by like an hour. The evening air snapped at her, infecting her with a chill which crept into her bones.

  ‘I’ll scream,’ Amanda threatened boldly.

  ‘No one will hear,’ the guard replied stoically, not turning to look at her.

  Shane might.

  Amanda knew that he was out there in the darkness somewhere, waiting on her call. If she screamed, if she curdled the night with her desperate cries would he hear? Would he call the police? But when they arrived would it be too late? Amanda looked at the gun in the guard’s embrace and felt her boldness ebb away.

  ‘In case you get any ideas.’ A fresh guard strode up to her. Had he heard her threat? He pressed her against the side of the car and then sealed her mouth closed with a thick piece of duct tape. Amanda shrieked against its sticky surfaces. All her cries now muffled. ‘That ought to shut her up for a bit,’ the guard announced flatly before moving away from her again.

  Another minute passed. Amanda tried to concentrate on her breathing. She knew she couldn’t give in to the rising tide of panic within her. Her head needed to remain level. Her mind alert. But she felt like she was in quicksand and each time she so much as moved she sank ever deeper, ever closer to her demise.

  ‘Okay then, let’s head out.’ McAllister was striding over. He’d changed out of his shirt and jeans and now wore a dark suit. Against the shadows of the night it looked almost jet-black. Even his shirt was black. He seamlessly blended in to the darkness around him. ‘Come, Amanda,’ he reached for her cheek and Amanda jerked her head away. But his movements were not as restricted as hers. His hand found her face and he ran his thumb against her fresh wound. ‘We’re going to go for a little drive. Okay?’

  Amanda shook her head furiously and screamed against the tape. She needed to stay at the mansion. Shane could find her at the mansion.

  ‘I truly wish things hadn’t ended up this way.’ McAllister leaned in close and whispered in her ear, ‘Just think, you could have been upstairs screaming my name in ecstasy right now. Instead you’re about to be screaming for a very different reason.’ He stepped back, his cologne lingering in the air. Amanda heard a car door open and someone climb inside. McAllister was gone; she desperately looked between his guards. Several had approached her, coming at her from all sides.

  ‘Right, let’s go.’ The tallest guard grabbed her shoulder and started marching her around to the back of the car. Amanda looked at the polished rear end of the Rolls-Royce Phantom in which she’d previously enjoyed a pleasant ride out of the city.

  A different guard leaned forward and popped the boot. It eased open, revealing its carpeted interior. Amanda tried to back away, sensing what was happening, but strong arms prevented any sort of escape, pushing her towards the boot.

  ‘It’s really not so bad,’ the guard who’d grabbed her shoulder lifted her up with ease and bundled her into the boot like she were a sack of potatoes. ‘Just watch out for the speed bumps.’ This made all the guards chuckle together.

  The base of the boot was rough against her cheek, the carpet coarse and unforgiving. She could already feel the fibres starting to make her itch. But that was the least of her concerns. Wherever they were headed, she knew that for her it was going to be a one-way journey. Amanda peered out at the guards, pleading with her eyes for them to have mercy on her, to let her go. Instead they slammed down the lid of the boot, sealing Amanda in musty darkness.

  14

  The darkness was a vessel. It took Amanda away from the mansion. As she lay on her side she could feel the rumble of the car’s engine vibrating through her body. Her senses became distorted. Initially she tried to follow her journey, tried to interpret each bend, each turn. But it quickly became too difficult.

  She felt her tears soaking into the rough carpet against her cheek, her ears filled with her own muffled, anguished cries.

  McAllister was going to kill her.

  Her mind refused to entertain other possible solutions. McAllister didn’t believe in loose ends or forgiveness. When the lid of the boot opened up again Amanda would probably be minutes, even seconds, from certain death.

  Screaming against the masking tape, she squirmed around the boot, desperately trying to free her hands. The plastic that bound her wrists together was tight. Unforgiving. But she had to try. If she didn’t get out of the car before it reached its destination then she was dead. She tried to keep her thoughts pragmatic, to stem off the hysteria which gathered inside her like a growing storm. She had to get out of the car. If she got out she had a chance of surviving – a slim one, but it was still a chance.

  The plastic chord dug into her wrists. The more she moved, the more it painfully pressed against her. Amanda’s fingers became damp with her own blood as the plastic cut through her skin like it was butter. The pain burned but she refused to let her herself feel it. She kept writhing her hands together, trying to work them free of their restraints.

  The car made a sharp turn and Amanda was flung against the other side of the boot. Her face smacked squarely against metal. She felt the jarring force of the impact down to her bones. Something warm trickled down from her nose. More blood. But Amanda couldn’t dwell on it. There would be time to assess her wounds later when she was out of the car, back with Shane. When she was safe. If she ever got to experience safety again.

  Rolling onto her back, she arched her spine to prevent her hands being compressed by her own weight. She noticed a chink of silver light in the distance, near the wheel arch. It wasn’t much since there was
only the moon and stars out to offer any light, but it was enough to guide her, to allow her to trace the outline of the boot, to figure out where its locking mechanism was. If she could just give the right spot a couple of really good kicks then—

  There was a bump in the road. Amanda bounced loosely around the boot, crashing against all sides. She thought of the rag doll she’d loved as a little girl, of the doll’s yellow string hair and black button eyes. After a visit to the beach her doll had become covered in sand, her pretty gingham dress darkened and soiled.

  ‘She needs washing,’ her mother had announced primly, plucking the doll out of Amanda’s grasp.

  ‘No,’ a six-year-old Amanda had whined. ‘I like her covered in sand. She’s more like me now – an adventurer.’

  Corrine had just tutted and put the doll in the washing machine. Horrified, Amanda sat and watched the sixty-minute spin cycle through the clear plastic door as her poor rag doll was thrown around the steel drum and lost in a sea of foamy water.

  Another bump in the road. Amanda tumbled around the boot, doing her best to use her legs to steady herself as she braced for the next sharp turn. When it didn’t come she returned to being on her back and tried to place her feet directly beneath the catch on the boot. The only positive she could find in her situation was that the boot of the Phantom was pretty roomy.

  Amanda flexed her legs, testing the distance up to the roof of the boot. How long had they even been driving? Where were they going? She recalled all the names in the digital ledger she’d uncovered. McAllister had claimed it was all falsified, but what if that was just a bluff? What if she’d actually found exactly what she’d been looking for?

  She delivered a blunt kick up at the catch. Her feet connected with the roof with a dense thud but nothing jangled, nothing sounded like it was being knocked loose.

  Was McAllister going to turn her into a name on his list? Was he going to sell her into sexual slavery?