The Vine Cross (The Vine Series Book 1)

by S P Dawes

  “Where’s the church?” Asked Martin, trying to gain firmer ground.

  “In the centre of the village, you can’t miss it.”

  Jesse lowered his arm and took a step back from him. He could smell the alcohol and cigarette smoke on him and it was nauseating. “How do you know Hayley?” Asked Jesse, watching the man lower his eyes to the floor again and shift from one foot to the other. Feeling his temper raising again, Jesse leant forward.

  “Jesse, go back to the car.”

  Jesse looked back at Martin in disbelief.

  “Sir.”

  Although Jesse was his senior, they hardly ever brought their rank up. They were a team and gave each other credit for understanding a situation and having each other’s backs.

  Sitting in the front seat, Jesse waited for Martin to finish his conversation with the habitual drunk. Holding his head in his hands, he replayed everything Hayley had ever told him, wondering if there could be any clues he’d missed.

  “He’s her Dad!” Exclaimed Martin, as he climbed behind the wheel, slamming the door shut.

  “When did you guess?” Asked Jesse, knowing full well he was a mess and not working anywhere near full speed.

  “When I thought you were going to put your fist through his head.”

  Jesse grimaced.

  “He’s no idea where she is, but he rang to warn her.”

  Jesse laughed he didn’t believe any of it. From what Hayley had said about him, he was as bad as the rest of them. He had an overwhelming feeling to get out of the car and go back and punch him, but he knew it wouldn’t help and they needed to get a move on.

  “He says he heard Demy had found her. He got her number and attempted to warn her.”

  “Heard? Who told him?” Asked Jesse, growing more concerned with how many people seemed to realise she was in danger and yet did nothing about it.

  “He wouldn’t answer that. I think we might have to come back, but I didn’t want to waste too much time,” answered Martin before turning the key in the ignition. “Least we know its Demy now.”

  Jesse gave him a look that conveyed that was hardly good news.

  “Let’s go to church.” Martin announced before pulling out into the street.

  Hayley sat on the floor, holding the blade in her hand. She could feel its sharp edge. Wrapping her palm around it, she allowed the sting, feeling the warm sensation of her own blood trickle down her fingers. Suddenly the door behind her opened, and she dropped the knife on the floor before cradling her hand from view and standing up.

  “That won’t help,” commented Demy. “But, if you want pain, I’m down with that.”

  Hayley shook her head vehemently, while Demy chuckled. Strolling over to the first aid kit in the kitchen and pulling it down from the top of the fridge, he opened it. Taking out a white bandage and some sticky tape, he sauntered over to Hayley, looking at her to give him her hand. She gingerly opened her fingers out for him to see the damage, and then he wrapped the bandage over it, sticking the ends down when he’d finished.

  Hayley’s eyes glazed over, reminiscing a time when she’d done the same for him.

  “Better?” She nodded, and he put the first aid kit back. “This will take some getting used to for the both of us.”

  Hayley wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but kept her mouth closed.

  Walking back over to her, he placed his hands on her hips. Keeping her head down, she tried to maintain her breathing pattern so as not to bring awareness to her discomfort any more than she already had. “Still not ready, hey?” He answered, letting go of her before striding over to the settee. Sitting down, he threw his feet up onto the coffee table to relax.

  Hayley stood frozen, unsure what he expected of her.

  “Why don’t you make us a drink and join me on the sofa?” He asked, picking up the remote control and turning the television on.

  Turning towards the kitchen, she wandered over to the kettle. Filling it up with water from the tap, she tried to manage her shaky hands. Finding the coffee and mugs, she made their drinks. Setting them down on the table in front of them, she tried not to splash the liquid as her hands continued to tremble.

  Jesse looked up at the original stone weathered church.

  The place looked historic and idyllic, with its wild flowers growing and its cobbled footpath to the entrance. It was about as romantic and wholesome looking as you could get.

  Pushing the gate open, it rebelled at the movement, squealing loudly in protest.

  “That’s the element of surprise gone,” mumbled Martin sarcastically, as it clanged shut behind him.

  “I don’t think we’d have been surprising anyone, anyway,” spoke Jesse sourly.

  “You might be right,” answered Martin, nodding towards the door where a man in a collar and white robes stood.

  “Gentleman, can I help you?”

  Martin and Jesse shared a look that told the other they were doubtful, before striding towards the vicar with their arms out-stretched; taking each hand in turn, the vicar shook firmly.

  “I’m DI Hallam and this is DS Wells, we’d like to speak with you regarding a missing person.”

  “Oh dear, that sounds awful,” answered the vicar turning to allow them entry to his church.

  Again, Jesse and Martin shared a look.

  “Can I ask who it is you’re looking for?” Asked the Vicar, moving towards the font.

  “Can I have your name first, sir?” Asked Martin, removing his book from his blazer pocket to take notes.

  “I’m Reverend Maxwell.”

  “First name?” Asked Martin in a bored tone.

  “Arthur,” returned the vicar, whilst fidgeting with a pile of books on a nearby shelf.

  Jesse and Martin walked closer to him.

  “Do you know a young lady by the name of Hayley Baxter?” Asked Jesse, watching something flit across the old man’s face.

  “Can’t say I do,” answered the vicar looking from Jesse to Martin. He was clearly uncomfortable under Jesse’s gaze. “Is she from around here?” He asked, raising his eyebrows as though they had his full attention.

  “We believe so, but maybe not for a long time. We suspect she moved from the area some years ago.”

  The Vicar seemed to take a breath with that information and his shoulders relaxed slightly, but not slight enough for them to miss it.

  “You may have known her as a young girl,” offered Martin, knowing full well he was offering the man a life line.

  “Ah! Yes, I believe I may have, now that you mention it. I once knew a young girl called Hayley.”

  Martin nodded, pretending to write something down, while Jesse watched the old man try to compose himself. “So, you knew her father?”

  “Yes, I knew the entire family. It was very sad when her mother ran away, those poor children.”

  “Ran away?” Asked Martin, eyeing him as Jesse stepped around the church.

  Jesse scanned the area, looking for anything suspicious, whilst remaining attentive to the conversation unfolding.

  “Yes, she was a troubled young lady. Although it was painful for the children, I’m sure the church helped them through their pain and suffering.”

  Martin glanced to Jesse, who was tightening his jaw, trying to stop from exploding.

  “It’s such a shame when mothers can’t be as nurturing as you’d expect them to be.”

  “Indeed,” spoke Martin, looking up at the high ceiling. They took care of the place. New burgundy cushions sat along the polished congregation benches, and the place had a hint of pine and beeswax in the air.

  “Where does this door lead?” Interrupted Jesse, pointing to one behind a red velvet curtain.

  “Oh, that’s just the store room, books and scrolls and such,” answered the vicar, eyeing Martin as he walked closer to Jesse.

  “You have the key?” asked Martin, watching the vicar’s face turn grey.

  “Err… yes, but why would you need a key, it’s just old bo
oks?”

  “If this place was a sanctuary to the young lady like you said, she could hide here. You know, somewhere she feels safe,” answered Jesse with a fake smile.

  The vicar nodded, shakily grasping the keys from his pocket and quickly flicking through the keys in his hand to find the correct one. Jesse caught Martin smirking before flipping his book shut and replacing it in his blazer. Walking over to the door, the vicar unlocked it before swinging it wide open. Jesse and Martin scanned the area while the vicar remained at the door. Looking around, they glanced to one another, realising they wouldn’t find anything here. He was far too accommodating, even if he did seem nervous.

  “Are there any other locked rooms around here?” Asked Martin.

  The vicar flicked his eyes from one detective to the other, before nodding and leading them out of the room across the other side of the alter. Opening that door, he allowed them access again. Martin saw the worn alter covered in a white sheet with books placed neatly on top. Jesse had seen it too, but they looked away, stepping around the room as though it might voluntarily spill secrets.

  “Gentleman as you can see, she’s not here,” he pleaded.

  “Reverend Maxwell, could you show me the cellar?” Asked Martin kindly, nodding to Jesse.

  “Yes, of course,” Martin followed him out of the room and the vicar waited for Jesse to exit too.

  “I’m sorry, I just need to make a quick call. Could you go down to the cellar while I phone in? It seems she’s not here, but check the cellar before we leave, just in case.” Jesse spoke to Martin while adding on a smile just for the vicar.

  The vicar stood contemplating his next move while looking from one detective to the other. Seemingly unimpressed with the idea but unable to voice an argument, he finally nodded, before leading Martin to the cellar. Once out of site, Jesse knelt down on the floor, opening cupboard doors, searching for any relevant information. Taking the books from the top of the alter, he placed them on the tiles and ripped off the cloth. Someone had removed the vanish from the wood, but it was the holes at either end that concerned him. They could easily house restraints, and by the evidence of the gauges in the wood, it had. Running his hands along the wood, he could feel scratches and scrapes that would require a substantial amount of force. It resembled more of a butcher’s block than an altar.

  Verifying what Hayley had told him, let a cold chill run down his spine. But it wasn’t enough to warrant arresting the vicar, least not without testing it first. Besides showing their hand too soon could cause panic and further evidence to go missing. The vicar wasn’t exactly playing safe by keeping it around, but it had no visible signs of blood, and so there was no need for him to highlight his discomfort with it. Replacing the cloth and books, he continued to survey the office. Nothing stood out and when footsteps echoed in the background, Jesse placed his phone to his ear and exited the room.

  “They want us back, she’s clearly not here,” said Jesse to Martin, knowingly informing the vicar he was in the clear.

  “That was a waste of time,” huffed Martin, slamming the car door shut before pulling his seat belt across.

  “Yes, and no. That alter in the study needs testing, and that guy is clearly about as innocent as Fred West.”

  “Can’t arrest someone for being a creep. If we could, the prisons would be overflowing,” said Martin. “Besides, he seems a little too flaky.”

  “So?”

  “If you wanted a secret keeping, would you tell that guy?” He asked, pointing his thumb outside the car towards the entrance to the church where the vicar stood watching them.

  “He’s kept enough things secret,” snapped Jesse, getting frustrated with the conversation and Martin’s lack of empathy.

  “All I’m saying is, that guy’s nervous. If he was part of all the things Hayley says he has been, you’d expect a little more confidence, cockiness.”

  “Are you saying you don’t believe her?” Asked Jesse, dropping his hand from the key sat in the ignition.

  “Hell no! I’m just saying a guy who can do all that, cover it up for years, then suddenly gets nervous about two coppers turning up in his church, rings alarm bells. Huge fucking alarm bells.”

  Jesse sat back in his chair, processing what Martin had said. He felt a little relieved, he’d got things wrong about Martin’s feelings towards Hayley’s allegation. It didn’t want to have to convince Martin on top of everything else. “What are you thinking?”

  “He knew you, or at least your name. This is bigger than some girl meets a psychopath,” said Martin, watching the vicar leave the doorstep, closing the door behind him. “If he’s scared now, there’s a reason and we’ve got to work out why.”

  “Well, while you go all Agatha Christie, we still have no fucking leads to where she is. And frankly, psychopath or not, Demy Richards is bad fucking news.”

  Martin glanced into his friend’s eyes and saw the fear and helplessness.

  “What the hell does he want with her?” Asked Martin, shaking his head.

  “That’s the million-dollar question,” answered Jesse, looking out of his side window to compose himself. “He burnt her, imprinted a mark like she was cattle. His property.” Jesse couldn’t stop the scratch in his throat, and his eyes were becoming difficult to see out of, but he dared not blink in case a tear escape.

  Martin sat silently watching his mate tear himself apart, knowing there was nothing he could say to take the pain away. “She’s terrified of him, and there’s no telling what he’ll do…”

  “Jesse, you can’t think like that, you’ll destroy yourself.” Martin spoke quietly, realising he was walking a tightrope of emotions right now. “We go to the warehouse and work this case like any other. Discover the evidence and run with it, leaving no stone unturned.”

  Jesse nodded solemnly, twisting the key in the ignition till the engine fired.

  “Promise me you’ll do everything you can...” Jesse asked, watching the children play Kerby along the road in front of him, before pulling away. “… and anything.”

  “That’s a given,” answered Martin.

  Chapter 20

  Jesse and Martin arrived at the warehouse to see DC Turner and DC Hancock strolling around, searching the floor.

  “Anything?” Asked Jesse, marching towards them.

  “No sign, except the dirt tracks in the road. There’s been movement but hard to tell when, cus it’s been so dry lately,” said Adam.

  Jesse walked inside the dilapidated building, noting how dark it was in there. He took out his flashlight and beamed it across the warehouse. On the floor and up at the ceiling, but he couldn’t see anything except disturbed dirt and cobwebs.

  “I don’t think we’ll find anything here,” replied Martin as Jesse carried on wandering. “We can go back to CCTV but without a bird’s-eye, we’re pissing in the dark, especially if there was more than one car.”

  Jesse put his flashlight away and made his way to Martin near the door. “We need to escalate it, but you know what that means?”

  “Walker gave me one day, if anyone’s going to find her, it's us. There are no other coppers going to work as hard as us,” explained Jesse.

  “Yeah, but they’ll have a lot more manpower and be a hell of a lot more effective than two ponies at the national,” answered Martin, watching Jesse go back to the car. He felt for him. He had known him long enough to know that having his hands tied behind his back was breaking him, but the thought of giving up was unbearable.

  Martin climbed in the driver’s seat and shut the door. “Ok, what do we do now?”

  “She arrived home this afternoon after a call to say the flat was ready, then at some point Caitlyn went round, told her I was in hospital. That’s why she got in the car, then they drove here. After that we’ve got nothing,” said Jesse.

  “Her dad phoned her, but she didn’t answer. He was warning her, so he says. Her phone got dumped at the service station, and she was in the back of the car turning in he
re,” Martin added.

  “Why would he warn her?” Asked Jesse, knowing what he knew, didn’t lend itself well to portraying him as a hero.

  “He just said that he’d heard Demy had found her.” Jesse couldn’t stand the not knowing, the further away from her he was, the closer she was to danger, and that was if he hadn’t already killed her. Jesse shook his head. He couldn’t think like that.

  “The church was about as useful as a chocolate fireguard.”

  “No surprise there, but we’ve now highlighted to the vicar, we’re essentially on his tail,” sighed Jesse.

  “Where’s Leon?”

  “Still in custody,” answered Jesse.

  “Well, if we can’t find Caitlyn, we go to him.” Martin pulled away and made his way back on to the A1. “That Lads got more mouth than the Mersey tunnel, hopefully he can put it to some use.”

  Hayley felt her stomach growl. She hadn’t thought about it before, but she’d not eaten all day. The last time she had, had been at the BBQ the night before, though that felt like a million years ago. No wonder her head was banging away as though a concert was playing inside her skull.

  “Hungry?”

  Hayley rubbed her abdomen to shut it up.

  “I’ll get you some food.” Demy stood up and made his way to the kitchen “Ham?” Turning to her, Hayley nodded.

  After making her a sandwich, he placed it on a plate, carrying it over. He handed it to her and taking it gingerly; she watched him sit back down. Lifting the corners of the bread to check, and seeing only Ham and butter, she took a bite. The more she ate, the hungrier she felt, and the sandwich soon disappeared. Placing the dish on the table in front of her, she watched Demy as she did.

  “Come, sit here,” he patted the seat next to him.

  She moved up, and he flung his arm around her shoulder. She couldn’t relax or sit up straight either.

  “Me and you will have some fun,” he whispered in her ear. “Now let’s see that brand.”