Trust Me: An absolutely gripping and unputdownable psychological thriller

by Sheryl Browne

‘Right.’ Jake took a breath and massaged his temples, trying to release the band of tension that was tightening between them. He glanced again at Tom, who searched his eyes for a second and then gave him a small smile, one tinged with regret, which only added to Jake’s confusion.

  ‘I’d better get off,’ Tom said. ‘I thought I might drop by the hospital and check on Edward, if that’s okay with you? I realise he’s your patient, but you look as if you could use a shower and a couple of hours’ sleep.’

  He could. But he doubted he would manage the latter.

  ‘Thanks. I appreciate it,’ he said.

  As he watched Tom head off, Jake wrestled with a riot of conflicting emotions. Had he driven into his car in the car park? If so, why hadn’t he just come back into the office to let him know? Why hadn’t he rung or texted him? Was it possible he’d just noticed the dent and was covering for him or for Ben? Why would he do that? And where the bloody hell was Ben? More worryingly, if it was Ben who was responsible for the damage, where had he been last night?

  Disorientated from lack of sleep and too many things coming at him, Jake went back to the house. He needed to shower, try to get his head together. Going up the stairs, he met Emily coming out of Millie’s room. ‘Okay?’ He scanned her face worriedly, hoping she hadn’t read anything into DS Regan’s questions. They were basically routine, after all, the same questions she was probably asking generally around the village. Or so Jake hoped.

  ‘Millie’s still not back,’ Emily answered, evading the question. ‘I was just checking if there was anything in her room that might give us a clue to where she might be.’

  ‘Shit.’ Jake’s gut twisted. The last thing they needed in the midst of all this was no contact from their daughter. ‘She’ll be okay,’ he said softly, quietly praying that this was true.

  Emily didn’t look convinced. ‘Could you call her? I tried earlier, but …’

  Millie wasn’t answering Emily’s calls, Jake guessed, still imagining she knew best. When would she grow up enough to realise that you never knew what was best, no matter how old you were? That being human meant you made mistakes, and that Emily had only been trying to look out for her, albeit she might have waded in too heavily? Did Millie not think they would be worried now, wondering whether something might have happened to her? A woman had been critically injured, and then there was what had happened to Zoe. Hadn’t DS Regan said there’d been someone else other than Dean at their flat before she fell? That sent a chill right through him. Millie might not be aware of any of this, but why the hell couldn’t she just try to understand how worried they both were and keep in touch? ‘I’ll do it now,’ he said, pulling his phone from his pocket.

  Dropping her gaze, Emily nodded. ‘You know Ben had a crush on her?’ she said, looking cautiously back at him. ‘Natasha. He thought he was in love with her.’

  His mind swinging immediately to the car, Jake felt as if the air had been sucked from his lungs. ‘No,’ he said, his voice tight. ‘No, I didn’t.’

  Forty-Four

  Jake was just out of the shower when his phone rang. Millie.

  ‘Dad, can you come and fetch me?’

  Hearing the obvious distress in her voice, he tossed the towel on the bed and grabbed his clothes. ‘Where are you?’ he asked, his throat tight.

  ‘I’m in the village, not far from the surgery,’ she said, now sounding tearful. ‘I need to talk to you. There are some things I need to tell you.’

  ‘Wait outside the front entrance,’ Jake instructed, his gut twisting afresh. Something was wrong. He needed to get to her. ‘I’m on my way.’

  ‘Okay. Dad …’ She stopped him before he ended the call. ‘Can you come on your own?’

  Jake felt the hairs rise over his skin. There was something she didn’t want Emily involved in. What, for Christ’s sake? His gut turning over as he wondered whether Millie might be in danger, he dressed in record time and raced downstairs, stopping only to grab his keys and yell something to Emily about an emergency – a lie, which never sat well with him, but he didn’t want to take any risks. The fact that Millie had asked him to come on his own meant she might well be in danger. He needed to be focused on her.

  His heart banging as he drove, exhaustion catching up with him, he tried to reassure himself it was probably just an argument with her boyfriend, nothing more. Why then the fear in her voice, though? He’d definitely heard that. Hoping to God he didn’t get stopped by the police, he drove fast, very aware of the dent in his bumper. His heart almost stopped beating as he realised Millie wasn’t outside the surgery where he’d asked her to wait.

  Panic rising sharply inside him, he headed for the back of the building, pulling haphazardly into the car park rather than leave the car on show outside. If this man she was seeing had dared hurt his daughter in any way …

  Pushing his door open, he climbed hurriedly out to search for her on foot – and stopped. She was sitting in the doorway at the back of the surgery, her knees pulled to her chest, her head resting on them. She looked small and vulnerable, more like a child than an adult. Jake’s gut clenched. Why hadn’t he been there more for her?

  ‘Millie …’ He walked tentatively towards her, hesitating as her head snapped up. Her face was tear-stained, her make-up all over the place. She was more than scared, he realised. She was terrified.

  She got to her feet as he approached, her eyes wide. She had beautiful eyes, just like her mother’s, full now of the same uncertain agony he’d seen in Emily’s lately. His guilt weighed heavier by the second.

  ‘Let’s go inside,’ he said, his gut wrenching further as she took a step away from him. A small step, but a significant one nevertheless. He wanted to hold her but she’d moved away from him.

  Swallowing, growing more scared himself than he dared let show, he reached to search his pockets for his keys, but Millie stopped him.

  He looked down at the keys that rested in her outstretched palm, confused at first, before comprehension kicked in hard. His gaze shot to her face. What he saw in her eyes confirmed what he desperately didn’t want to believe.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘Please don’t hate me.’

  His stomach turned over. What had she done?

  ‘Please don’t hate me,’ she repeated, a ragged sob escaping her.

  He felt his heart crack. ‘I don’t hate you, Millie,’ he said, his voice thick with emotion. ‘I could never hate you.’

  ‘You should.’ Her red-rimmed eyes were frantic as they searched his. ‘I would. Mum will. How can she not when she realises it’s me who’s been taking the drugs?’

  Jake swallowed back his spiralling emotions. He needed to concentrate on Millie, on her feelings. ‘She won’t.’ He tried a step towards her. Millie only took another step away, her eyes flicking to the side, as if she might run. His chest constricted painfully at the thought.

  ‘I didn’t mean to,’ she said, swiping at the tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘I thought I could help him. I loved him and …’ She choked out another sob.

  ‘You thought if you did this, he would love you back?’ Jake asked softly.

  She nodded and pressed her hands to her face. ‘He doesn’t. He never did. He … I wish I was dead.’

  ‘Don’t. Don’t ever say that, Millie.’ Anger doing battle with the bewilderment inside him, Jake moved fast towards her, wrapping his arms around her and yanking her to him. ‘It would kill me to lose you. Please …’ Squeezing his eyes closed, he pressed her head gently to his shoulder, his face to her hair. His child. His baby. He would kill for her. ‘Don’t ever say that again.’

  Holding her close, he wiped a salty tear from his own cheek and waited. ‘We should go inside,’ he suggested quietly when her sobs stilled to a shudder. It was the weekend, and they were unlikely to be disturbed. Shoppers sometimes used the car park, though. He didn’t want anyone seeing her like this.

  Minutes later, with Millie safely in his office and less tearful, he fetched her a cu
p of tea – as if that could cure any of their monumental problems, which he felt were largely down to him. His life seemed to be slipping away from him, like sand through a timer – his children, his wife – and he could do nothing to stop it.

  ‘So what made you see the light?’ he asked carefully, sitting in the chair next to her, rather than opposite her like an inquisitor. He didn’t want to bombard her with questions, which might only make her close up. Nor did he want to add to the guilt she was obviously feeling. That was as evident in her eyes as the fear he’d seen there.

  She wiped a hand under her nose, dropped her gaze further. ‘He was seeing someone else,’ she murmured, her heart clearly breaking. ‘Someone older. Married, I think.’

  Jake felt his jaw tense. ‘And he’s how old?’ He was having to work now at sounding non-judgemental.

  Millie hesitated, studying her thumbnail intently. ‘About your age,’ she admitted eventually, her voice small. ‘He lied about that too. He told me he was thirty. I thought he might be a bit older, but …’

  He nodded slowly. Indescribable rage burned inside him, an inclination to murder possessing him. The urge to find the bastard and remove his testicles without the benefit of anaesthetic was almost overwhelming. ‘You’re obviously well out of it,’ he said, his voice choked.

  Millie looked up at last, her eyes troubled, uncertain. ‘There’s something else,’ she began uncomfortably, then stopped as a police siren sounded right outside the window. ‘Why are there so many police in the village?’ she asked, worry flitting across her face.

  Studying her carefully, he debated whether to tell her. It would only upset her more than she was already. But then she would find out anyway. ‘There’s been an incident,’ he said cautiously. ‘A woman has been run over. Natasha Jameson. The police are treating it as a hit-and-run, but I think they’re suspicious about the circumstances surrounding it.’

  ‘Oh my God.’ Millie’s complexion drained of all colour. ‘His shirt … it was covered in blood.’

  Jake heart rate ratcheted up. ‘Whose shirt?’ he asked, his mind shooting to Ben.

  ‘Louis’.’ She stared at him, shocked. ‘It was soaked in blood, hidden under his bed. There was other stuff too.’ Her eyes filled with tangible panic.

  Icy trepidation trailed the length of Jake’s spine ‘What stuff, Millie?’ he asked warily.

  ‘A letter. Photos.’ She looked away and nervously back again, then reached into her jacket pocket. ‘It wasn’t just the drugs he wanted,’ she said, her hand visibly shaking as she handed the contents to him.

  Jake’s heart stalled as he looked from her to the photographs. Reading the letter, it splintered inside him.

  Forty-Five

  Emily

  Hearing the front door open, Emily stopped uselessly pacing and flew to the hall, almost wilting with relief when Jake and Millie came in. Her relief was short-lived. Seeing her daughter’s face, her make-up cried off, her complexion chalk-white, her heart folded up inside her. ‘Millie, what’s happened?’ she asked, moving towards her daughter.

  Her eyes furtive, her expression fearful, Millie didn’t answer, taking a step away from her and looking back at Jake, as if for guidance.

  ‘Give us a minute, Mils, will you?’ Jake smiled reassuringly at her, but Emily could see that his eyes were deeply troubled. ‘I think your mother and I might need to have a chat.’

  Millie nodded, looked uncertainly back at Emily, and did as he asked.

  Jake glanced after her as she climbed the stairs, then turned to place his keys on the hall table. He didn’t look at Emily. Staring down at the keys, his brow furrowed pensively, he turned them around as if not quite satisfied with their arrangement, then removed his jacket, hanging it on one of the pegs, his movements precise, restrained almost. ‘Did Ben come back?’ he asked eventually, still not looking in Emily’s direction.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, nerves knotting her stomach. Something had happened. He and Millie had obviously talked; there was an unspoken communication between them. Why wasn’t he talking to her?

  ‘Is he okay?’ Jake checked, concerned as she’d known he would be.

  ‘Not brilliant,’ Emily answered. ‘He’s devastated about Natasha, naturally. I managed to get him to open up a little. He was reluctant, but he obviously knew we would be concerned about why he came home early and clearly upset last night.’

  ‘And he told you?’ Jake looked at her at last, his expression fraught with apprehension.

  ‘His girlfriend stood him up, apparently. He was too embarrassed to say anything.’ Emily had prayed that was the truth. She’d thought it was. After hearing about Edward, Ben had taken a step back towards her; been more like the child she’d thought she’d had no cause to worry about – until he’d reached his teens.

  Jake nodded thoughtfully. ‘Where is he now?’

  Emily noted his guarded expression. ‘At his friend’s, gaming, I expect,’ she said, watching him carefully.

  ‘Right.’ Jake took a breath. ‘We need to talk,’ he said, indicating the kitchen.

  Confused, Emily followed him as he walked past her. She had no choice if she wanted to find out what on earth was going on.

  Once in the kitchen, Jake turned to close the door, and stayed there, his hand resting on the handle, his shoulders tensing, as if he were bracing himself. Finally he turned to walk to where she stood at the kitchen island, feeling adrift and bewildered.

  Stopping in front of her, he looked at her full-on at long last, studying her intently. His ocean-blue eyes were a swirl of emotion: confusion, accusation, hurt; he seemed to be looking right down into her soul.

  She felt a chill of trepidation sweep through her as he pulled something from his pocket and placed it on the worktop. ‘Meet Millie’s boyfriend,’ he said, his voice tight with palpable fury. ‘But you’ve already met him. Haven’t you?’

  ‘Paul Lewis,’ she whispered, icy fingers tugging at her heart, her mind, dragging her back there in an instant as she looked at the photographs Jake was now splaying out on the island. Nausea swilled inside her as she pictured him, the amused look she’d mistaken for affection in his cold cobalt eyes. She could smell him, the scent of aftershave mingled with sweat, cannabis and damp brickwork assaulting her senses. She could feel him as if he were here now, his tongue pushing into her mouth, his fingers exploring intimate parts of her body. Paul Lewis. She swallowed back the sour taste in her mouth. He’d found her. He’d hurt her daughter.

  ‘What does he mean?’ Jake asked, snatching her thoughts back to him.

  Blinking back the tears clouding her vision, Emily looked at the letter he was pushing along the work surface towards her. Does your husband know about your son? she read, and her mouth dried.

  ‘Are you still not going to tell me?’ Jake asked quietly. ‘Not even now, when this bastard has come after our daughter?’

  Her heart beating so fast she could barely breathe, Emily looked at the girl in the photograph, who stared accusingly back. You think you’re the only one who can give in to her wild side, don’t you? You’re wrong, Emily! She heard her as if she were standing here in the room with her.

  ‘Talk to me, Emily,’ Jake demanded. ‘Or I swear to God—’

  ‘It’s not me,’ she blurted.

  ‘What?’ He laughed, incredulous.

  ‘They wanted me to be like Kara.’ She looked back at him, saw the disbelief and confusion in his eyes and looked away again. She was making no sense, she knew, but she had to try to explain. She had to. ‘They wanted me to be like her … like Kara,’ she stammered.

  Jake sucked in a breath. ‘I have no idea where any of this is leading, but—’

  ‘Kara wanted to be me!’ she cried, realising, finally, that the blame hadn’t been solely hers to carry. ‘She stole my boyfriend, and I hated her.’ Tears streaming from her eyes, she relived the emotions as painfully as she had on that dark day. ‘I hated her!’

  Fear crossing his features as her voice r
ose, Jake stepped towards her.

  Emily backed away. ‘I said terrible things to her, wicked things, but it wasn’t her I should have hated, it was him.’

  ‘Emily …’ Jake’s eyes flicked to the door, warning her that Millie might hear. Her poor, innocent, feisty girl. He’d hurt her.

  ‘He killed her!’ Stuffed too long inside, the words came tumbling out. ‘He pushed her. They argued on the canal bank and he pushed her. And I knew he had. I knew it. In here I knew it.’ Choking back her sobs, she banged a hand against her chest. ‘But in my head … I couldn’t remember. I tried, but … I believed him. I went to him. Before he was convicted, I went to him. He was distraught, and I …’ She stopped, reliving that night, desperately not wanting to.

  ‘After we were together?’ Jake surmised correctly.

  Closing her eyes, Emily answered with a feeble nod.

  ‘Were you still in love with him?’ His voice was hollow.

  Pressing her hands to her face, she shook her head.

  ‘Yet you carried his child.’ His voice now full of insurmountable hurt, Jake spoke the words that would send the rest of her world crashing down.

  Emily looked back at him, her heart so swollen with sorrow and regret she felt it might burst right out of her chest. ‘You knew Ben wasn’t yours?’ She could barely get the words out.

  He smiled heart-wrenchingly. ‘I’m a doctor, Emily, remember?’

  He’d done a test, she guessed. He must have suspected. Of course he had. He wasn’t stupid. She was the stupid one.

  ‘I got that you wanted to keep the child. I understood. What I didn’t understand was why you didn’t tell me,’ he went on, his voice strained. ‘I could have forgiven you cheating on me. It wasn’t as if we were already planning our wedding. I would have forgiven you anything, but … All these years? Why didn’t you just tell me?’

  Emily didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

  ‘You should have told me.’ Shaking his head, Jake looked her over disappointedly and turned away.