Snared

by Ed James

  Vicky put her head in her hands and groaned. “This just gets worse.”

  “Look, I’ll let you speak to him, okay?”

  “Liz . . .”

  “Enough.” Liz held up her glass then inspected the empty wine bottle, clearing her throat just as the music switched track. “I’ll need to get another bottle.” She called over to Dave. “Come and help me with the cheese.”

  “I’m stuffed after that curry, Liz.”

  “Come on.”

  Dave scowled at his tablet then his gaze shifted to Liz. “Oh, right. Aye.” He handed the tablet to Robert and followed her into their kitchen.

  Robert rested the tablet on top of the stereo and turned the volume down before smiling at Vicky, deep ridges on his forehead.

  Vicky returned the smile, the vein throbbing harder. “So you like Pearl Jam?”

  “They were my favourite band when I was a teenager. I had the ripped jeans, the plaid shirt, the hair.”

  “Don’t remind me. I was a grunge kid as well.”

  “This was a non-album single, I think, or maybe on a compilation.”

  “Wasn’t it on that Singles film?”

  “Oh, Christ aye. I forgot about that.” Robert took a sip of beer. “I remember going to see them in London with my mates back in the day. We caught the coach down and hung around in the bus station overnight waiting for the first one back. My mate’s genius plan was to stay at the YMCA.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “Gets worse. His plan was to hop in a taxi and get taken to the nearest one. Guy didn’t know.”

  Vicky smiled. “I kind of liked them at school but they’ve not aged well.”

  “Not really, no.” Robert came over, the sofa creaking as he sat on the arm. He nodded at the kitchen. “Not exactly subtle, are they?”

  “Lizzie couldn’t even spell it. S-U-T-I-L.”

  Robert chuckled. “That was a nice curry, though.”

  “I enjoyed it.”

  “Sorry, it was my suggestion. I didn’t think you wouldn’t like curry.”

  “It’s fine. You can stop apologising.”

  “Okay.” Robert leaned back and took a drink. “Are you working on anything interesting just now?”

  “It’s never that interesting. This case is as close as it comes, I suppose. Lots of internet stuff.”

  “Oh, I’m useless with computers.”

  “Me too.” Vicky stared into her glass. “My brother used to work for the police doing that sort of thing before he got ill.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “He was a silly bugger. Still is.”

  “What happened?”

  “They don’t really know. He got ME. One thing I do know is he used to absolutely destroy the energy drinks so he could pull really long shifts. I used to get texts from him at four in the morning still at work. Those guys are supposed to be nine to five. His bloodstream was ninety per cent caffeine. I can barely cope with Diet Coke. Could really do with him on this case.”

  “Why, what’s it like?”

  Vicky raised her eyebrows. “Why the sudden interest?”

  “I wouldn’t say it’s sudden. More like Dave and Liz dominating conversation and me not getting to ask you about yourself.”

  “Before they left the room, I think the only words I’ve said to you were my name and I was hard pushed to get my surname in.”

  Robert laughed. “No, I’m an avid reader of detective books. James Ellroy, Ian Rankin, that sort of thing.”

  “Oh, right. I never get round to reading much.”

  “Don’t suppose you do. It’ll be like a busman’s holiday, I imagine.”

  “The only thing I’ve read in the last ten years was Twilight.”

  “Right. Any good?”

  “Didn’t like the fourth book much. Vampire babies. It just weirded me out.”

  “That does seem a bit odd.”

  Vicky drained her glass. “So what do you do then, Robert?”

  “I’m a PE teacher at Monifieth High.”

  “PE? I wasn’t very good at PE at school. I played tennis a bit.”

  “It was one of the few things I was good at. I was diagnosed with dyslexia when I was sixteen. The damage had kind of been done by then. I didn’t read a book until I was twenty. I just couldn’t concentrate enough. Now I can’t put them down.”

  “That must have been hard.”

  Robert nodded. “I managed to get through my exams okay in the end, well enough to get into Moray House in Edinburgh.”

  “That’s pretty good.”

  “PE and secondary education aren’t exactly rocket science.” Robert pulled an ancient Nokia out of his pocket and placed it on the table. “It’s getting stuck in my jeans pocket. I’m too used to wearing trackie bottoms all day.”

  Liz paced back through, a bottle of Prosecco in her hands. “Right, who’s for some cheese?”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Vicky stopped outside her house, reaching into her handbag to retrieve her keys. “This is me.”

  Robert raised his eyebrows. “Oh.”

  “Thanks for walking me home. Even though you live next door to them.”

  Robert raised his shoulders as he pushed his hands into his pockets. “I wouldn’t like to let you walk home alone.”

  “I’m a police officer.” Vicky tried to steady herself on her feet. The bloody heels. Maybe the booze played a part. She reached over and pecked Robert on the cheek. “Very chivalrous of you, though.”

  “I’m not really being chivalrous. I’m just trying to be a nice guy.”

  “And you are.”

  He looked down Westfield Street, past Vicky’s house towards the park at the end.

  She folded her arms. Was he angling for something?

  He blinked a few times. “Do you want to go for a drink sometime?”

  “I’m a bit busy just now.”

  “Oh.”

  She tottered forward and patted his arm. “I’m not brushing you off, Robert, I’m just being honest. I’m not going to invite you in for coffee if that’s what you’re angling for.”

  “I don’t drink coffee. I’m a tea man.”

  “Okay, I’m not inviting you in for a cup of tea, then.”

  “I’m not —”

  Vicky touched his arm. “Relax.”

  “So, will I see you again?”

  She reached into her purse and got out a business card. “Give me a call sometime.”

  He took it, lips pressed together. “Thanks.”

  She winked then whispered. “Don’t tell Dave or Liz about it.” She fumbled with her keys, eventually getting the lock to turn. She blew him a kiss. “Goodnight, Robert.”

  “Goodnight, Vicky.”

  She shut the door behind her and leaned against it. “What the hell am I doing?”

  Sunday

  30th March 2014

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Vicky walked along Bruce Drive, heels clicking on the pavement, coat tugged tight around her, breath misting in the late morning air.

  A horn honked behind her. A green Volvo. Karen. It parked outside Vicky’s parents’ house. The lights were off in the front room. Andrew’s bedroom curtains were still drawn.

  Karen waved as she got out of the car before helping Bella out of the back seat, winking as she approached.

  Bella hugged Vicky’s leg, her backpack bobbing up and down. “I love you, Mummy.”

  Vicky knelt to kiss Bella on the forehead. “I love you too, Bells.”

  “Need a jobbie!” Bella wandered up the drive to the house, knocking on the glass. The front door opened and Dad lifted Bella up, waving at them.

  Vicky held up her hand, signalling two minutes. She looked at Karen. “What’s up with her?”
/>   “She wouldn’t go at ours this morning after Cameron told her about the jobbie monster.”

  “Oh no.” Vicky huffed out into the cool air before nodding into the house. “How was she?”

  “Good as gold. No tantrums.” Karen checked her watch. “I’d better go. We’re running late for swimming in Arbroath.”

  Vicky patted her arm, eyes still on the house. “I’ll let you get on. Thanks for looking after her.”

  Karen got in her car and started the engine. “Any time. She’s no bother.”

  “See you tomorrow.”

  “I want full details at lunch, okay?”

  “Right.” Vicky watched Karen’s car drive off round the loop.

  She took a deep breath and stared at the door. Get ready for another battering from Mum.

  Vicky went inside, cooking smells coming from the kitchen — lamb, maybe? “I’m here!”

  Bella wandered out of the bathroom, backpack still on. “Poo won’t flush.”

  Vicky helped Bella take her backpack off — what the hell had Karen been feeding her? “I’ll have a look in a minute.” She checked Bella’s clothes — not too bad given she’d had a sleepover. “Come on, let’s see what Granny’s been cooking.”

  “Good! I’m really hungry!” Bella skipped through to the kitchen, the room warm from the oven. “When’s lunch, Granny?”

  Mum beamed as she hunkered down to cuddle Bella. “It won’t be long, poppet.”

  “I’m really hungry. Just had porridge for breakfast. Makes my wee tummy feel empty later.”

  Mum tapped the end of Bella’s nose. “Well, it won’t be long.”

  Bella squealed with laughter as she hugged Vicky’s leg.

  Vicky sniffed the air, still couldn’t place the roasting meat. “What are we having, Mum?”

  Mum leaned against the solid oak cabinet, letting her apron come free. “Roast pork.”

  “I love the way you say pork, like it rhymes with cork.”

  “What about the way she says oven?” Andrew leaned against the door frame, tightening the belt on his dressing gown.

  “Uncle Andrew!”

  He rubbed her hair. “Morning, Bella.” He plodded into the room, sitting opposite Vicky at the kitchen table, bearded, purple bags under his eyes, his hair in a mess, looking heavier than she’d ever seen him. “Morning. Afternoon. Whatever.”

  Mum prodded her cooking fork towards him. “You’re a cheeky so and so, Andrew Dodds, getting up at this time.”

  “What’s a so and so, Granny?”

  “Your uncle, for starters.” Mum nudged Vicky’s dad. “Does Grandad want to go and play with Bella?”

  “Grandad’s doing the Sudoku.” Dad stayed focused on his paper, sitting to the left of Andrew.

  Mum chuckled. “Grandad’s been doing the Sudoku for over an hour now. Bella wants to play.”

  Dad folded up the newspaper and pointed at Andrew. “Don’t you finish that when I’m away.”

  Andrew smirked. “Do you want me to tell you where you’ve gone wrong?”

  “Hilarious.” Dad picked Bella up and carried her through the conservatory into the garden.

  Mum sighed at the window. “Somebody’s full of beans today.”

  Vicky nodded. “I’ve no idea what Karen was feeding her last night. Haribo, no doubt.”

  Andrew looked up from the newspaper, pen in hand. “Wish I had that energy.”

  Vicky stroked his forearm. “How are you doing?”

  “Okay, I suppose.”

  “What’s the doctor saying about it?”

  “Definitely ME. They call it CFS these days rather than Yuppie Flu. Chronic Fatigue Syndrome or something.”

  “Must be good to get confirmation, at least?”

  “They’re not going to do that.”

  “Why?”

  Andrew shrugged. “Because they’ll have to pay me off, I suppose. I’m so skint you wouldn’t believe it. Why else do you think I’m back here?”

  “Oh. How’re you coping?”

  “I’m not, really. The doctor’s got me doing small incremental walks to try and build myself up. I can make it to Wallace Street without sweating.”

  “But that’s just the end of the road.”

  “Small acorns, he reckons.” Andrew waved at their mother. “Any chance of a coffee, Mum? Thought I smelt some.”

  “Drinking coffee is what got you into this state in the first place, Andrew Dodds.”

  “Mum, there’s no link between coffee and ME.”

  “I know that, Andrew, but you pushed yourself too hard and you broke down. They shouldn’t have let you do it. While you’re under my roof, you’ll look after yourself.”

  Andrew stared at the Sudoku. “The only time I feel normal’s when I have a coffee.”

  “Just remember what it feels like the next day, son. And the day after that.”

  Andrew rubbed his beard. “You’re probably right.”

  Seeing her older brother like that made Vicky’s gut wrench. “Are you still on the books, then?”

  Andrew nodded. “I’m still an employee of Police Scotland, if that’s what you mean. Had a meeting with my manager last week. Turns out they’ve got some wee lassie from Strathclyde in to help out after they sacked that boy who was stalking you.”

  “He was hardly stalking me.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Do you mean Zoë Jones?”

  “That’s the one.” Andrew grinned. “You’re jealous.”

  “What?”

  “Nice little lady like that. You must resent her getting all the attention in the office these days.”

  Vicky glowered at him, feeling like she was fifteen again. “Shut up, Andrew.”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “She’s working for me on this case. She managed to find some stuff on the dark internet. It’s pretty much our only lead so far.”

  “I see. I take it you can’t tell me more?”

  “Not really, no.”

  Mum huffed by the cooker, taking a tray of spitting potatoes out of the oven. “Right, I’ll go get Bella and George.” She walked off through the conservatory.

  Vicky nodded after her. “Still talking to herself, then?”

  “Getting worse.” Andrew leaned over the table. “They asked me if I was able to come back to work.”

  “And you haven’t told Mum?”

  Andrew shook his head. “No.”

  “What’re they asking you to do?”

  “I take it you’ve heard about this Tetra scanner someone’s got in Dundee?”

  Vicky frowned. “The Airwave scanner?”

  “Aye, that. I was on the team that installed the system back in the day. I’m the only one left.”

  “But you’re ill, Andrew.”

  He shrugged. “I’m feeling a bit better.”

  “Well, you know your own body. Have you talked to Dad about going back to work?”

  “He says I should do it.”

  Mum reappeared, Dad and Bella trailing behind. Vicky couldn’t tell who looked more disappointed to have their play ended.

  “Can we go after baddies today, Mummy?”

  Vicky reached over to kiss Bella. “After lunch maybe.”

  Bella tugged at Andrew’s sleeve. “Will you help us catch baddies, Uncle Andrew? Grandad’s going to help.”

  “If Grandad’s helping then you don’t need me or your Mummy.”

  Bella snuggled in close to Vicky. “I’ll always need Mummy.”

  “Thank you.” Vicky kissed her on the head. “Go and wash your hands before lunch. There’s a good girl.”

  “Okay.” Bella skipped off into the hall.

  Andrew watched her go. “Like I say, bundle of energy.”

  “Tell me abo
ut it. I was thinking of taking her up to Crombie for a walk with Dad. Do you fancy it?”

  “How far round?”

  “All the way, probably.”

  “Better give it a miss.” Andrew smiled.

  Mum put the bowl of roast potatoes in the middle of the table. “Go and get dressed, Andrew. You’re worse than Bella.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Vicky collapsed back in the sofa and yawned, legs still sore from her afternoon with Bella. She hit the power button on the DVD player. Play from the start or the last memory? She pressed a button, hoping it was what she was after.

  Her phone buzzed on the table. A text. She didn’t recognise the number. THSI IS MY NR. ROBERT X

  She grinned as she thought of the ancient Nokia Robert had placed on the table at Liz’s. The X after it . . .

  “Fuck it.” She texted back. Hey Robert. Fancy a drink *without* Liz and Dave? Vicky X

  She sat for a minute, heart pounding, as she waited for a response, eyes locked on the screen.

  Buzz. TOMOROW?

  Her fingers battered the keyboard of her phone. Stag’s Head @ 7? X

  Vicky stared at the wall opposite. Tomorrow? What was she getting herself into?

  The phone buzzed again. ITS A D8!!! R

  She paused before giving in and hammering out a text to Liz. Seeing Robert again tomorrow. The phone bounced as soon as she put it down.

  SQUEEEEEE!

  Vicky chuckled as she settled back, returning to the main menu on the DVD so she could watch the episode from the start.

  Monday

  31st March 2014

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Granny!”

  “Hey there, Bella. Are you ready?”

  “Yes I am!”

  Vicky shut the door behind Mum. She stared at her daughter. She’d miss her — another weekend spending nowhere near enough time together.

  “You can get yourself to work, Victoria.”

  Vicky bit her lip, getting lipstick on her teeth already. “Can you look after her tonight?”

  “Is this more police work?”

  “A date.”

  Mum let out a deep sigh. “Finally.”