The Vine Cross (The Vine Series Book 1)

by S P Dawes

  “Don’t let it destroy you. Put it in a box, keep it there, but be in control of the lid.”

  “You think I should give up?” He turned to his dad to gauge his response. “You think she’s gone?”

  “No, I didn’t say that. Do your job. Wash, eat, and keep yourself physically and mentally strong, so when you find her, you’re ready to pick up the workload. Because when you get her back, it’s going to be a lot harder than this, and you’ll need to be in full control of your faculties.”

  “You think she will come back a mess?”

  “I think she’s going to need all the support she can get. And if you truly love her, you need to be able to do that.”

  Nodding, Jesse knew that what his dad said made sense.

  “It’s not a failure to accept help, but it is to deny you need it.”

  Jesse stood up and leant down to his dad, kissing him on the forehead. “Love you, Dad.”

  Michael smiled and watched Jesse leave the room. Two minutes later he heard the boiler go on. Jesse had got in the shower.

  Martin walked through the corridor with his case file in his arms. He was giving a briefing concerning the updates to the slasher murders. There had been three more in the six months that had passed, each one of those had displayed the brand, now becoming increasingly prevalent. More photos had surfaced, but they hadn’t identified all the women. The frustration of going round in circles was time-consuming and yielding no results. He’d kept in contact with Jesse, but that had become less frequent because of the guilt he held for the lack of progress with the case involving his girlfriend, but every lead they had had gone nowhere.

  “Sir, I’m PC Turnbull.”

  Martin turned to see a young uniformed officer holding his hand out to him. Taking it while looking at him for an explanation.

  “I was just wondering if anything had come about from the information, I’d sent across a few months ago?”

  Martin raised his eyebrow, wondering what he was referring to. “The Timpson abduction case.”

  “What about it?”

  “I sent the team investigating, a message about a woman I’d met. I just wondered if they had followed it up?”

  “I’m sorry, you’re going to have to be more specific, what information?” He watched the officer slouch and gather his speech together.

  “There was a woman when I was doing the leaflet round who looked badly beaten, but she refused to open the door. When her husband came back, he told me a group of yobs had recently attacked her, but they hadn’t reported it because they didn’t see the point…”

  Martin was growing bored; he needed to get in the briefing room.

  “When I was in there, the atmosphere was really weird, but it was what she said that made me pass it on.”

  “I’m sorry, how is this relevant to my case? I am really rather busy.”

  “I’m not sure it is.”

  “Great,” Martin smiled. If he had been in his own police station, he would have ripped strips of the lad. But he wasn’t, and he needed the station’s cooperation to move on, so he just turned to the briefing room to show he wasn’t interested anymore.

  “But when I looked at the picture properly and tried to take into consideration the hair dye and bruising, she looks like that girl.”

  Martin had just reached the door and opened it to enter, but now he turned back to the officer.

  “What girl? The one on the leaflets?” He asked, walking back towards him. He watched the officer nod solemnly. “Who did you tell?”

  “Someone at your office, I can find out whom, it’s in my notes.” He pulled the little black book out of his pocket and flicked through the pages. “Here it is, DC Turner.”

  Martin held his head; he could feel a migraine coming on. “Did you say you spoke to her?”

  The young officer nodded again.

  “What did she say?”

  “Well, her husband was there, so she didn’t say much, but when his phone rang, she said something weird.”

  Martin looked at him, urging him to give up the information, so he quickly flicked through his book again.

  “Here, she said honesty, trust, loyalty and respect. Maybe not in that order, but I wrote it down when I got back in the squad car.”

  Martin sighed, it meant nothing to him, but then maybe it wasn’t meant to.

  “Don’t go anywhere; I just need to make a call.”

  The officer nodded as Martin took to the stairs, pulling his mobile out from his trouser pocket.

  Outside, the fresh cool air bit through his shirt as the wind whipped round. “Jesse!”

  “Martin, what’s up?” Asked Jesse, having just got out of the shower, standing in his bedroom. “You want extra pepperoni?”

  “If I say four words, will you just tell me if they mean anything to you?” He asked hurriedly.

  Jesse snorted a cynical laugh, “OK?”

  “Honesty, trust, loyalty and respect?” Martin listened to the silence on the other end of the phone.

  Jesse’s legs buckled, and he sat on the end of the bed, staring at the phone.

  “Jesse?”

  “What…. why…. how…” Jesse couldn’t make a sentence; he didn’t know what to ask first.

  “I’m gathering, that’s a yes?” Inquired Martin, hopefully.

  “Yes, what’s going on?” Adrenaline suddenly filling Jesse’s system.

  “I’ve received some info, I need to chase it up now, I’ll be in touch.” Before Jesse could ask anything else, Martin hung up. He felt bad, but he had nothing else to give and they needed to work fast. He was months behind.

  Running back to the officer waiting patiently on the landing, he pointed to him. “I need you to get a team together to go to that house, and I will join you, what’s the address?”

  “36 Bayfield Crescent,” said the officer reading from his book.

  “Who’s your direct supervisor?”

  “DI Kavanagh, sir?”

  “Get that team, I’m going straight to Kavanagh.” Martin ran off one way and the officer ran in the opposite direction. Martin needed all hands-on deck, and he needed Kavanagh’s team mobilised, as it would take his team a while to get there. Grabbing a phone off an empty desk, he dialled through to his own officers in his own branch.

  “Adam, is that you?”

  “Yes,” said DC Hancock.

  “Get DC Redding for me.” He heard the phone changing hands and Rosa came on the line. “Rosa, be careful what you say.”

  “Ok?” she said, confused.

  “Is DC Turner there?”

  “Yes.”

  “OK, can you send him out on an errand, anything, be imaginative.” She made a noise to illustrate she was still listening. “Then when he’s gone, get the rest of the task force on the road, meet me at 36 Bayfield Crescent, Peterborough. We’ve got a lead on Hayley Timpson.”

  “Will do.” They put the phones down and Rosa followed orders.

  Martin ran to DI Kavanagh’s office.

  Chapter 26

  Waking up, Hayley listened but only heard silence. Feeling her neck, it was dry and sore. Struggling up from the floor she ran upstairs to the toilet, even after emptying the contents of her stomach she couldn’t stop retching for a further few minutes.

  Controlling her breathing and wiping her face from tears, she cleaned herself up. Filling her hands with water, she drank steadily, knowing if she gulped, she’d only bring it back up. Cursing herself for being so stupid, she walked over to the mirror. Looking at her reflection in the glass, viewing her reddened throat, it clearly showed an angry hand print.

  Hayley knew going to the police wasn’t an option, they’d take her back to Jesse and Demy would be arrested, but Lynnie would be dead. She’d never be able to forgive herself. She had to step in line, stop being so argumentative. It wasn’t getting her anywhere. If she did as he said and as he wanted, then maybe he’d be happy, and she’d only have to endure the nights. She could do that, close her
eyes, lie back, think of England.

  But she wouldn’t, she’d think of Jesse and that’s where her fight came from. She remembered how he’d once said his mum and dad gave each other strength. She liked the idea they could prop each other up; weather any storm. But he was making her reckless. She’d gone from learning how to survive to wanting to live. And the dreams of him were relentless. They wouldn’t allow her to give up, accept her predicament, they encouraged life.

  That’s what had spurred him into cutting off her oxygen, for long enough to make her black out. She’d fought his advances, not wanting him to take her again. Hayley had had enough, but the fight in her wasn’t nearly enough to prevent him from taking, and so he’d made sure she regretted it. Running her tongue over her split lip, she winced at the pain. It was a waste of time. After Jesse took one look at her, he’d know how damaged she was. There was no clawing back to a normal life after this time.

  Martin pulled up outside the house. It was strange how normal some houses looked, never portraying of what was going on within them. He had given his instructions, now all he had to do was execute them. Walking across the road feeling all eyes on him, he knocked loudly on the door and waited.

  Hayley heard the loud knock, making her jump out of her skin. Slipping downstairs, looking through the glass in the door, she spied a waiting figure. The knock happened again, sneaking towards it, she leant her back up against the door.

  “Who is it, please?” She asked timidly.

  “It’s the police, can you open up?” Asked the firm voice.

  “Why?” Hayley had her hand on the door handle ready. Trepidation making her hand shake.

  “I’d like to speak with you about a spate of burglaries in the area.” Hayley’s heart sank. Then reminding herself she needed to stay undetected, she yanked the door open, looked up at the smiling plain clothed officer, and remembered her own face.

  “I’ve not heard anything I’m afraid,” she said closing the door, but then the man stepped in, shocking her with his sudden movement. Stepping back, she nearly tripped over her own feet.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Pulling his warrant card out from under his blazer, he showed Hayley.

  Not reading it, she looked away from him, conscious of her current physicality.

  “Can I sit down?”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, stepping towards the door.

  Martin looked her up and down, noting the dye working its way out by the roots. The redness to her face, purple neck, split lip, and her rounded stomach protruding under a heavy green knit jumper made a part of him ache. She looked broken, and not only on the outside. He’d only met her once before, but even though she had been angry and hurt, her eyes still had that sparkle. The one that knew life was worth living. The woman in front of him was desolate. Her eyes sunken and devoid of colour. It was a shock even with his experience in the force, but the idea of Jesse seeing her like this tore him apart.

  “Hayley?”

  She looked directly in his eyes, clearly shocked, frozen to the spot.

  “It is you. Isn’t it?”

  Hayley couldn’t speak, but her lips trembled involuntarily. Tears welled in her eyes and slid down her battered cheek.

  “Hayley, I need to get you out.” Martin could see she was in shock so he led her to the sofa and sat her down. “Hayley, I’m DS Martin Wells. We met at Newark police station. I’m Jesse’s friend.”

  Hayley gently nodded, tears spilling without restraint, with the name of the man she loved having been spoken for the first time in months.

  “Anyone else here?” He confirmed, looking around. Hayley shook her head. “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know,” her voice was hoarse.

  “OK, we need to get you out of here.”

  Hayley’s eye’s widened with panic.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll keep you safe.”

  “No, you don’t understand. I can’t go.”

  Martin looked at her, confused.

  “He’ll kill her!”

  “Who?” He asked, wondering if someone else was here.

  “My sister, he’ll kill her if I leave. He has to phone every week or they’ll kill her,” she tried to explain through her croaky voice.

  “Where’s your sister?” Asked Martin, hoping she was close by.

  “Russia, he phones every Thursday.”

  “It’s Wednesday today,” said Martin thoughtfully. “I can’t leave you here. Anything could happen. Especially if he finds out I was here.”

  “You can’t take me,” she warned, shaking.

  Martin knew there wasn’t a prayer of getting her sister safe in such a brief period, if at all, but to leaving Hayley here was alien to him.

  “How’s Jesse?”

  Martin looked at her; she was hanging on his every word. How was he going to tell Jesse he had seen her, but she’d refused to leave?

  “Devastated.”

  Hayley brought her hands up to her face as her shoulders shook from crying.

  “Misses you like crazy.”

  Hayley nodded, while wiping her face to look at Martin.

  “Hayley, I can’t tell him we’ve found you and then left you.”

  “Let me get that phone call out of the way. Then come get me. It’ll give you a week to find her,” she pleaded. “I don’t think I can last much longer anyway.”

  “What time does he call?” Martin asked.

  “It’s always different, the latest he’s phoned is eleven. I think that was only to give me a warning,” explained Hayley.

  “A warning?”

  Hayley dropped her head before looking back at him as his gaze lowered to her stomach. Crossing her arms in front of it, she tried to conceal it.

  “Please don’t tell him,” she said finally.

  “I think he might figure that one out for himself.” Martin couldn’t bear to keep something so huge from his friend. It’d meant he’d hurt her in the worst way possible, and he knew how Jesse would feel about that.

  “Not if I get rid of it first,” she mumbled.

  “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  She smiled weakly for his concern.

  “I mean it; I don’t need a corpse on my hands. Jesse would never forgive me.”

  “Then don’t tell him you’ve found me.”

  Martin stared through her as though he was thinking of asking her something else. “Hayley, I’ve got an idea.”

  Sitting at the table opposite one another, with ready-made lasagne steaming in front of them, Hayley waited for a Demy to finish saying grace.

  Barely registering what he had said, she sat watching Demy tucking in greedily. She couldn’t tell if it was out of hunger or haste.

  He made her sick, no longer did he have a single redeeming feature. Every time he was near her, she wanted to carve his little bastard from her stomach. Like him it was a parasite living off another human being, taking all her nutrients for itself. She was a walking incubator and a dolly for its master. Picking up her fork, she lifted the topping off, moving it round her plate. She couldn’t stomach the rich smelling sauce.

  “You’re not eating?”

  Looking up, she saw he’d stopped shovelling food in and was staring at her. Taking in a deep breath, she exhaled slowly. Her time with Martin had helped reignite her feelings for Jesse. Not that they’d dampened any, but he had made him appear closer to her, which made her feel safer somehow. She hadn’t even known till today whether Demy had done what he had promised and set Jesse up. The knowledge that he hadn’t, caused her heart to feel lighter. Shaking her head, she pushed the plate away.

  “You required to eat.” He shovelled another mouthful in. “I said you need to eat!” He repeated sternly after acknowledging her refusal to do as she was told.

  “I don’t want it,” Hayley said, fixing his gaze. She didn’t know why she was goading him, and she knew she was playing with fire. She’d end up regretting it, as she alway
s did. Watching Demy slam his fist on the table, she couldn’t help but jump.

  “Eat your dinner, you’re eating for two.”

  Hayley stood. She shouldn’t be taking such an enormous risk. He was due to call tomorrow, but Jesse was out there, looking for her. He hadn’t given up on her.

  “I don’t want it,” with that, Demy stood up, towering over her until she suddenly felt tiny. But she would not allow him to see her wince again, “I’m not hungry.”

  “Then you’ll starve!” And with that he picked up her plate and threw it against the wall, watching the meal slide down the surface, hitting the floor with a smash. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Looking across to him, he sat back down, breathing heavily, watching her face.

  Pushing the chair out, she stood to leave the table. “Where are you going?”

  “To get a dustpan and brush,” she answered quietly.

  “Leave it.”

  Hayley knew if she wanted to diffuse this situation, she would have to sit down. But as she stared at the chair, she decided tonight she needed to fight. Jesse was out there, looking for her.

  Walking over to the kitchen, she bent down to pick up the dustpan from the floor. Before she gathered the brush, he was behind her. Coiling her hair around his fingers, he yanked her head back, whilst trying not to cry or scream, she was pulled up to him. “I said fucking leave it!”

  “It’ll mark the wall,” she didn’t know why the wall bothered her. It wasn’t even her home, and it sounded pitiful the moment it left her lips.

  “Why won’t you just fucking listen?!” Dragging her backwards, he pushed her back onto the table. She tried prising his grubby fingers from her hair, but he was holding fast as he swung her back-first on the table, knocking the wind from her lungs.

  Grasping her neck, he pinned her down while his other hand worked the zip on his trousers. Throwing her skirt up, he tugged her newly owned, pants down. Kicking and screaming she tried to open his fingers up from round her neck. It was getting tighter and she couldn’t breathe. Instantly regretting her decision to fight, knowing she couldn’t take him on. He was too strong, and why the hell had she not run with DS Well’s earlier?