by Eva Hudson
The girl carried on shaking her head. “I don’t believe you.”
Ingrid took a deep breath. There was no point saying any more. Deeds were the only thing that could make a difference now. Actions. It didn’t matter what Ingrid said; she was going to have to show Kristyn she was serious.
“I just want Tom,” the girl said. She looked down at her pregnant belly. “He’s the only person in this whole fucking mess who doesn’t want something from me. I just want Tom.”
The dog padded out onto the gravel, as if he was giving the women some privacy. Ingrid’s knees were starting to hurt a little from crouching, but she didn’t want to stand up. It was important that Kristyn could look down on her slightly. The body language was good: she was demonstrating her subordination.
“Do you know why I’m here?” Ingrid removed her hand, resting it on the Roadster’s chrome foot tread. “I’m here because Truman and Tom asked me to look for you. Did you know that? I’m not here because of Sutcliffe.” She paused, hoping to get some kind of reaction from Kristyn. “Now it turns out that Tom’s known where you’ve been all along. He’s lied to me—that’s fine, I can handle it, the FBI gets lied to for a living—but he’s lied to Truman. The guy has been out of his mind, and one word from Tom would have saved him so much pain.” She inhaled deeply. Kristyn stared straight ahead through the windshield, watching the dog. “This is the man he loves, and he’s lied to him about you, about their baby. So I don’t know what plan you and he have been working on, but are you sure he’s who you need right now? Are you sure you can trust a man like that?”
Kristyn stopped shaking her head. She didn’t move. She was frozen. She didn’t even blink.
“Kristyn?”
The girl’s jaw started to tremble again.
“Kristyn, what is it?”
“I… I…”
“Yes?”
“I think my waters just broke.”
43
“It’s going to be OK. You’re going to be OK.”
Kristyn’s eyes were wild with fear.
“Let’s get you out of there,” Ingrid said. “Come on now, nice and gentle.” She stood up and offered both hands to Kristyn.
The girl put one foot on the ground and twisted to get her other leg out of the car.
“How on earth did you even get in there?” Ingrid asked.
“I… what if I’ve…?”
The girl was embarrassed. Old enough to steal a passport and become a surrogate, old enough to cross an ocean, but still worried about the mess she might have made on the upholstery. “It doesn’t matter.”
The dog padded up to see what was going on. “Hey there boy, give the girl some space.” He sniffed at the bullet casings. Kristyn leaned against the car and pulled herself upright.
“How are you feeling? Any pain?”
“A bit.” She winced. “A lot. Been going on a while.” She reached a hand down and felt the back of her dress.
“Don’t worry about it. You’re having a baby. It’s what happens.” Ingrid checked the seat. “It looks fine.” She reached under the dash and found the lever that popped the hood.
“What are you doing?” Kristyn asked. She had one hand on her belly, the other arm was resting on the roof of the car, her face contorted with pain.
“I’m connecting the battery.” Ingrid lifted the hood, found the loose wires and attached them to the battery’s terminals. “A lot of rich people do it. Makes it harder to steal their half-million-dollar cars.”
“A lot of dealers do it too.”
Ingrid closed the hood, letting it slam down hard. “Right then, let’s find you a hospital.”
“What?” Kristyn and the dog were both staring at Ingrid, with almost identical expressions of confusion. “I’m not going to hospital. You need to call Tom.”
“Tom? Why?”
“He’s arranging things. Flying a midwife in from Italy, the sister of someone who works for him. Someone untraceable. He said he’d have it all figured out in time.”
Now it was Ingrid’s turn to look perplexed. “Well, that time is now, kiddo.”
“I’m not going to a fucking hospital.” Her tone was fierce.
Ingrid rubbed her cheek, only noticing afterwards that she had oil on her fingers. “You can’t stay here. What do you think Vinny’s going to do? Hold your hand when you start to push? We have to get you out of here. I have to get you out of here.”
Kristyn shook her head. “Call Tom.”
Ingrid thought about her four minutes of battery life. She wasn’t going to waste them on Tom Kerrison. “I’ve called him ten, maybe twenty, times in the past twenty-four hours. I’m guessing when he sees it’s my number he doesn’t answer. Besides, his phone now diverts to his publicist. You don’t have a phone?”
“No. I was meant to be untraceable.” She nodded in the direction of the top of the stairs where Vinny was tied up. “There’s got to be someplace else. I can’t go to a hospital.”
The dog whined and Ingrid crouched down to stroke him. “Why not? Why can’t you go?”
Kristyn took a deep intake of breath.
“You OK?”
The color emptied from the girl’s face.
“Was that a contraction?”
She winced. “I, er, I think.”
“Come on,” Ingrid said, getting to her feet. “Let’s get you into the passenger seat. You can’t stay here.”
Ingrid placed both hands on Kristyn’s shoulders, hoping to steer her to the other side of the car, but the girl raised her hands and shoved Ingrid away. “No. I won’t go.”
“You can’t have the baby here.” Although, if a stable in Palestine was good enough for a teenage mom two thousand years ago, maybe a garage in Sussex wasn’t the worst place to start a life?
“I can and I will.” Kristyn Bowers was much, much tougher than she looked. “I’ve been to childbirth classes. I’ve probably got twenty-four hours of this before the baby comes. Tom will be here by then. He’ll bring help. You’re not taking me anywhere.”
“What about Vinny?”
Kristyn looked at Ingrid. “You’ve got a gun.”
Ingrid was stunned. “This isn’t the movies. We don’t just shoot people who get in the way.”
Kristyn placed her forearms on the roof of the car and rested her head on her hands. She started breathing deeply, her back arching with each inhalation.
“We don’t have to go to a hospital,” Ingrid said, “but Vinny means you can’t stay here. Let me get you to some other place.”
Kristyn didn’t move. “No. That’s not going to happen. I have a deal with Tom. Just call him. Please, call him.”
“What kind of deal, Kristyn?” Ingrid couldn’t fit the pieces of the puzzle together. “What’s the deal?”
Kristyn didn’t answer.
“The surrogacy agency were going to pay you twenty-five thousand dollars. What’s Tom paying you?”
Kristyn looked up, resting a cheek on her hands. “Twenty-five thousand a year for ten years. He gets the baby, I get the money. So unless you’ve got a quarter of a million dollars you’re not going to tell me what to do. Understood?”
But Ingrid didn’t understand. She scratched her head, an action the dog copied. “Hush money?”
Kristyn puffed out her cheeks. “Something like that.”
“Why?”
The girl started breathing more rapidly. “I don’t know. Not my baby. Not my business.” Sweat was glistening at her hairline. “I give him the baby, he sets me up for life.” She made eye contact with Ingrid. “I need that deal, lady. You understand? So no hospitals, no 911 calls. I can take Brody. I can get him away. I can start over. No Sutcliffe. No Aurora. A fresh start.”
Ingrid stepped out onto the gravel and began to pace. She needed to think. With Vinny upstairs she either had to get Kristyn to a safe place to have the baby, or she had to find a way of dealing with Vinny. If she called the local cops, there would be too many questions to answer. She
was trespassing for one thing, and the bullet holes in the door were another. No doubt the nearest station house had someone who was friendly with the local newspaper: anything out of the ordinary at Arding Manor was bound to attract attention.
She shivered. Clouds were gathering and it looked like it was going to rain again.
Ingrid wasn’t even sure what crime Vinny could be arrested for apart from trespass, and if he was guilty of that then so was she. He was well tied up: he was a can she could kick down the road for a few hours. Kristyn let out a scream. Ingrid ran back to the garage.
“Come on,” she said. “You’re getting in the car.”
“No.”
The dog barked.
“No hospital, I promise. But we can’t stay here. When you start to push, you need to be somewhere Vinny can’t find you. Come on, take my hand.”
Kristyn shook her head slowly. “You must have had medical training. You work for the goddamn FBI.”
“I’m pretty good with gunshot wounds, but this is a first birth for both of us.”
Kristyn’s face twisted in agony.
“You’re going to need painkillers.” Ingrid thought about the oxycodone in McKittrick’s bag and wondered what else the former detective inspector could lay her hands on.
Kristyn puffed out her cheeks and started to blow hard. “OK. But where?”
“I know a place, but first I need to get this car started.” Ingrid helped Kristyn to the passenger door. “You said you had Lamaze lessons. What were you told to do right now?”
The girl was bent over like an old lady, one hand staying in contact with the car, the other leaning heavily on Ingrid. “You know what I said about twenty-four hours?”
“Maybe you should be on the back seat? You could lie down if you needed to.”
Kristyn nodded.
Ingrid opened the rear door and helped Kristyn onto the cream leather upholstery. “Don’t worry about making a mess. I’m sure they can afford to get it detailed.”
Kristyn wriggled backward onto the seat.
“Is there anything upstairs you need? A bag? Anything?”
Kristyn nodded. “On the bed.”
“I’ll grab it.”
Ingrid took the stairs three at a time and ran through into the bedroom area. She swiped Kristyn’s small canvas backpack from the wooden chair and ran back out into the main room. Vinny had opened his eyes.
“You fucking bitch.” A nasty, whiny voice.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, too.” Should have taped his mouth.
Ingrid ran down the stairs, threw Kristyn’s things onto the passenger seat and climbed behind the wheel.
“What about Cully?” Kristyn said.
Really? The dog?
Ingrid got out and opened the passenger door. “Come on, boy.” The dog jumped in and sat on the passenger seat as if that’s where dogs always traveled. “Buckle up, boy.”
Ingrid pulled the driver’s door shut and felt her chest hollow out as she turned the key. Please, please start. The engine chugged into life. Relief spread across her skin like electricity. “Right, let’s go.” She looked in the rearview mirror at Kristyn. “You OK back there?”
“Wherever we’re going, we need to get there quick.”
Ingrid glanced at the open doorway and wondered how easily Vinny would be able to extricate himself. It was only when the wheels of the Mercedes were spinning on the gravel that she remembered she should have picked up the bullet casings.
44
“I’m sorry,” Kristyn said.
“For what?” Ingrid steered the Mercedes onto the drive that led toward the woods and the steel gate.
“For hitting you.”
“It’s not the first time it’s happened. Occupational hazard.”
“Did I hurt you?”
“Nothing a couple of Tylenol won’t fix,” Ingrid lied. The pain on the left side of her head felt like a scalding burn.
The gearbox screeched as Ingrid put the car into fourth. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d driven stick. Kristyn’s fingers dug in hard to the headrest.
“You see the clock on the dash?” Ingrid said.
“Yes.”
“I want you to keep an eye on it and time your contractions.”
“OK.”
They reached the muddy path that curved through the woods, the 5000cc engine ensuring there was no chance of seeing another deer. Ingrid broke hard as she took a bend, sending the dog flying off the seat and into the footwell.
“Sorry boy.” She looked into the rearview mirror. “OK back there?”
“Can’t you slow down?”
The steel gate loomed ahead. Shit. Ingrid hadn’t thought about how to get it open. There was probably an intercom system. What if the lock could only be opened from the main house? Ingrid slowed, the tires sinking slightly into the dirt. There’d be an exit button. There’d have to be, wouldn’t there?
They reached the muddiest section where the path widened in front of the gate. Ingrid put the Mercedes into first gear, then neutral and applied the handbrake. She opened the door and was about to look for a way to release the gate when a loud clunking noise made her jump. It was followed by a squeal. She breathed hard. A few moments later the enormous steel panel began to slide. Number plate recognition system. It was time for something to go her way.
She pulled out of the gate, past her parked Triumph Tiger 800 and turned onto the track that ran alongside the boundary fence. She accelerated toward the road.
“Where are you taking me?” Kristyn asked.
“How close are the contractions?”
“Where are you taking me?” the girl demanded.
“It depends how close together your contractions are. You think you can make it to London? About an hour?”
“I… I don’t know.”
Ingrid floored the Mercedes, making it bounce wildly over divots and potholes. Ingrid didn’t have a clue where they were headed; she just hoped something would present itself through a combination of vigilance and optimism.
They were about a hundred yards from the junction with the road when a car turned off it and headed toward them down the track. See, Ingrid said to herself, I knew something would turn up. It had to be Tom and the midwife.
“Looks like the cavalry’s here.” Ingrid brought the car to a halt: the track was too narrow for the cars to pass each other. Tom would realize this, she thought, and he’ll reverse.
When the car got closer she saw that it was a Ford Focus. Not a Range Rover or a Maybach or any other kind of rich man’s car: Tom Kerrison wouldn’t be driving a Ford. And he would be slowing down, she thought. The Ford hurtled toward them, only braking when the driver realized the Mercedes wasn’t about to reverse. Ingrid opened the driver’s door, ready to tell the other driver he was going to have to make way unless he too was carrying a passenger in labor.
She stepped out and raised her hand at the oncoming vehicle. When the Ford came to a halt she saw who was behind the wheel. Tall, overweight, baseball cap: Mr White Sox. Avery Donaho.
Ingrid swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.
He placed both hands on the steering wheel and stared at her through the windshield. Had he noticed who was on the back seat? It wouldn’t be long before he did. Ingrid got back behind the wheel.
“Plan B,” she said and put the car into reverse. “Hold tight.”
Ingrid had to get Kristyn away from Donaho. She didn’t know what was at the other end of the track. A farm presumably. It didn’t look like the kind of route that led to another road. Her choice was a destination she didn’t know, or back into Arding Manor where at least she had the advantage of knowing the lie of the land.
“Why didn’t he just reverse?” Kristyn said.
There was no need to tell Kristyn the man in the Ford had come to the UK to kill her, but Ingrid couldn’t think of a good lie to tell. “Because he’s a piece of shit.”
The gate clanked open and Ingrid knew there was
just no way it would close quickly enough to stop Donaho following in behind them. She swung the rear end in and turned sharply, throwing the dog and the girl. She broke hard, got the car into first gear and pulled away. At least now she was driving forward, and she had more horsepower than whatever Donaho had at his disposal. She liked her chances.
The wheels started to spin in the mud. She swerved to stop them becoming stuck and pulled away down the track through the woods. In the rearview mirror, she saw the Ford turn through the gate. Damn. There had been a slim chance it would have closed in time, with any luck slicing the Ford in half and killing Donaho. But this wasn’t the movies.
The dog started to bark. “Not now, Cully.”
“Who is he?” Kristyn said again.
Ingrid glanced at the girl in the mirror. Her face was red, her expression fearful. “He’s Sutcliffe’s man.”
Kristyn let out a high-pitched scream. “No, no way.”
“I got this covered,” Ingrid said. “Like you said, I’ve got a gun. You’re going to be OK. The baby’s going to be OK. Even you’re going to be OK, Cully.”
They were nearing the end of the woods.
“How did he find me?” Kristyn said, her breathing sharp and shallow.
Ingrid didn’t have the brain space to reply. She needed all her mental capacity to work out where to head for. Back to the garage wasn’t an option: Vinny would find a way out of his restraints eventually. The main house would probably trigger all kinds of alarms if they broke in. The outbuildings near the greenhouses were their best bet. If she could get far enough ahead of Donaho, she could park the car behind one of the brick outhouses, wait until the Ford passed and then find somewhere to hide Kristyn. Ingrid revved the engine.
In the rearview mirror, the Ford was receding. Ingrid was now so far ahead that when they went round a bend Donaho was out of view.
“How did he fucking find me?” Kristyn asked.