Luke Adams Boxset 1

by Dawson, H A

  She glanced at the time and concluded it was time to leave. She didn’t want to have to explain to Ben where she was going, since they were bound to argue, and crept down the stairs, careful to avoid making any sound, and tiptoed to the front door. Upon seeing Ben in the living room working, she turned the handle, eased it open, and stepped into the rush of warm air. Having taken one last glimpse back inside, she pressed it shut and headed along the street.

  The air brushed her skin and the intense sunlight lifted her spirit. She glanced at the pedestrians and peered into the passing vehicles. No one was watching her, no one cared that she had left the house, and her steps reflected her joyous mood.

  A woman with a low-cut top and exposed cleavage climbed out of a nearby car. Megan tensed as David's sordid photographs flashed into her mind. How could she have been unaware of his filming? So much for her powers of observation. Gritting her teeth and willing away thoughts of his perverted behaviour, she continued on the road remaining determined to make the most of her outing with a kind and generous man.

  Larry was waiting for her in the market square, and her face broke into a wide smile. She focused on his smooth, rounded face and glistening eyes, she looked at his lips, tight and pale. His presence generated a sense of contentment.

  'How are you doing?' he asked.

  'Much better for seeing you.'

  'Tension at home?'

  She sighed. 'Nothing more than usual. I'll be glad when they leave.'

  'It's not working out then.'

  'No. I had to give it a try, though.'

  'When's he leaving?'

  Hesitating, she stared into a confectionary shop, observing the collection of chocolates and sweets through the glass front. 'I don't know. Soon I hope.'

  'You're making the right decision. If a relationship is hard at the start it's not going to get easier in the long run.'

  'We've had our share of problems but we've had our good times too.'

  'As it should be.'

  They walked in unison along the street, only breaking from their rhythm to allow dawdling pedestrians to pass by and to look through windows.

  'You're a good person Megan, you deserve the best.'

  'Thanks, you're sweet.'

  He smiled.

  'What about you, anyone in your life?'

  He turned and grinned. 'Is that a proposition?'

  'Not likely.'

  'I'm not good enough then?'

  He noted the sparkle in his eyes. 'I'm done with men!'

  'I'm quite a catch. I have money.'

  'And you have no dependents!'

  'There you go. What is there to lose?'

  She could see he wasn't serious, yet her heart still fluttered. Maybe if he was twenty years younger she might have been interested, but right now, right here, she struggled to get beyond his wrinkled, sagging skin. She tried to imagine away his aging complexion and grey balding hair and decided he might have been a catch in his day.

  'Has anything else happened with this Saskia case?' Larry asked.

  She steadied her breath. 'Nothing worth mentioning.'

  'Is Luke Adams still investigating?'

  She nodded. 'He has spoken to Ron. I don't think he has discovered much, though.'

  'It's unlikely he will.'

  'Why? Don't you think Saskia was killed?'

  'What I think is irrelevant. Thirty years has passed. If they couldn't find any evidence then, it's not going to happen now.'

  'You seem sure.'

  'There must have been a cover up. Also, the police are not that bright. You have to think a particular way if you are going to unravel a well thought out murder . . . few people can do that.'

  She looked at him, puzzled.

  'I've read a lot of crime thrillers.'

  Was he right? Were they never going to reach a satisfactory end? Anxious, she wrapped her arm around her body and continued along the street, passing shops, estate agents, and offices.

  'I didn't mean to worry you,’ he said. ‘Do you still think someone’s following you?'

  'Maybe . . . I don't know. Can we talk about something else?'

  'Sure.'

  'Now about this exhibition. What should I expect?'

  They weaved through the crowds, out of the main exhibition hall, and headed towards the gallery's vast collection of local work. Megan was glad to escape from the heated bodies and the buzzing sound of observations and expectations, and stepped through the corridor, appreciative of the refreshing air and quieter surroundings.

  The sign guided them down a wide concrete staircase to the ground floor, passing a middle-aged woman collecting tickets with a wrinkled face and a slumped midriff. To Megan's left was the reception area and exit, and to her right was a sign leading to further works of art, the café, and the toilets. She followed Larry down the corridor and hesitated when he strode into the first room.

  'Fancy a drink first?' she asked.

  'Good idea.'

  They followed the sign and ended up on the far side of the building. The café looked as though it had been a recent addition, and was semi-circular in shape and had windows around the edge. The floor had sandy-coloured tiles with a fine brown stripe along one side, and the table and chairs were a light colour and made of wood. Everything was pristine; the counter sparkled, the floor had no ground-in dirt or scratches, and the blinds were crisp and clean. They followed a couple along the counter to the till and purchased two coffees.

  Despite its obvious popularity, there were empty tables, and so they strode to a free table alongside the windows. They hadn’t been there long when Larry’s gaze drifted down her body before resting on her face.

  He smiled. 'I'm glad you decided to come.'

  'So am I. I'm surprised how popular it is.'

  'It's the same every time they have a specialist exhibition. The rest of the art is good too. I hope you’ll have the energy to continue after your coffee.'

  ‘Definitely. It’s motivated me to start drawing again. It's just what I needed.'

  ‘That was my intention.’

  She reached for her mug and buried her face in the warm vapours. He was a lovely man and seemed to be able to anticipate her desires even before she could. It was also good to be with someone who wasn't concerned for her safety. She could relax and be herself. Her phone sounded.

  It would be Ben complaining that she had gone out. She felt like a prisoner on day release and reluctantly looked at the small screen ready to retaliate. However, when she saw the message, she wished she were right. David had sent her one of the images her had taken. Her stomach turned and her lungs tightened.

  'Everything all right?' Larry asked.

  She managed a weak nod.

  'I hope it's not a message from whoever is following you.'

  'No, it's nothing like that.'

  He looked away, pensive, creating an uncomfortable atmosphere. She felt sure he wanted her to share her distress, but this was definitely something she was going to keep private. David had invaded her personal space and sent her a message as proof. He was a sick individual and wanted her to suffer.

  She was wondering if he had sent it to anyone else when Larry's phone sounded. Holding her breath, she watched as he reached into his pocket and pressed his finger onto the screen. A smile crossed his lips. Was it the same text? She started quaking and stared wide-eyed. Even if she had wanted to reach across and snatch his phone, she was unable, weakened by distress.

  He caught her gaze. 'You look like you've seen a ghost.'

  Her mouth opened and shut.

  He glanced at his phone. 'It was a message from a colleague - nothing to worry about.'

  She wasn’t convinced and believed it was the same message. It was something David would do to upset her, in the same way that he'd told her that Larry fancied her. He was trying to mess with her head and stop her from leading a normal life. Riled, she gripped her coffee mug and stared outside. Once again, David had spoiled her day; once again, he had ga
ined the upper hand.

  She was lost in thoughts when a figure slipped behind a bush out of sight. Jerking, she narrowed her eyes, scanning the surrounding space, certain that once again someone was tracking her.

  'You seem anxious,’ Larry said in a concerned tone. ‘Are you certain there's nothing you want to talk about? I'm a good listener.'

  'I thought I saw someone looking.'

  He gazed outside. 'You mustn't get paranoid.'

  'You're right, but I also received a warning to leave.'

  'When?’

  ‘Earlier. It didn’t say a lot, just that I should leave Rodley.'

  'And it didn't say who it was from?'

  She shook her head. 'I think it was Verity. Did you know that she dated Ron before Saskia did?'

  'Of course! I'd forgotten about that.'

  'I think she was in love with him. It would explain why they fell out.'

  'It would have given her motive to kill Saskia too,' he said.

  'That's what I thought.'

  Her enthusiasm coloured her face. 'Verity said Saskia never loved Ron. His money was the attraction, so she could escape from her family. She had to do most of the housework and tend to her younger siblings. It must have been hard.'

  'Meaning Verity would have to do it after she left.'

  'Exactly.'

  He grinned. 'That wouldn't have impressed her.'

  She wrapped her hand around her mug. 'Do you think she's capable of murder?'

  'I think we all are. We just never believe it until it happens.'

  'Why do you think she's warning me away?'

  Larry leaned back into his seat and rested his arms at angles on the table. 'She has quite a temper. Maybe she's worried she won't be able to control herself.'

  'Could she be planning something?'

  'Could be, although I wouldn't have thought she was the type to premeditate murder.'

  'So you think it was an accident?'

  He nodded thoughtfully. 'Try not to worry. I doubt you're in danger.'

  'I wish I had your confidence. Ben won't let me out of his sight.'

  He raised his eyebrows.

  'I sneaked out.'

  'It sounds to me like you should tell him to leave . . . and the sooner the better.'

  Her heart was heavy. Soon she would have to.

  'If there's ever anything I can do to help, just ask.'

  'Thanks. That means a lot.'

  They sat for a few moments in silence. Larry’s attention wandered around the café whilst she peered outside looking for the person she believed had been out there watching her. To her gratitude, she didn’t see anyone acting suspiciously, and decided, as he had suggested, that she was paranoid.

  'Shall we go see the rest of the art?' he asked.

  She agreed, threw back the dregs of cold coffee and lifted herself from the chair. He raised his arm, encouraging her to take the lead, and followed her out of the café. They meandered into the first room.

  'Did you know Saskia was an artist?' he asked.

  'Yes, I did.'

  'Have you seen her work?'

  'No.'

  'Then there is something here that might interest you.'

  She followed him across the room, passing two men wearing matching attire and holding similar effeminate poses and a student with a clipboard and pencil. At the far side was a painting. When she saw it, her heart leapt and her blood pummelled her insides. The painting was a drunk slumped outside a shop, and it was remarkably similar to one she had drawn during her teens.

  Distant memories surged. She had been seated in an uncluttered room with a blank canvas. A window overlooked a vast garden, trees stretched to the sky, and ominous grey cloud loomed overhead. Then, she had started to sketch.

  'Saskia did this,' Megan said, stating the obvious.

  'Do you remember her other work?'

  She looked at the painting and then to Larry. As she did so, she sensed someone by the door watching her. Jerking, she spun around and caught a fleeting glimpse of the person disappearing from view. Determinedly, she started to chase.

  Ignoring Larry’s plea to stop, she ran along the corridor and scampered out of the main exit. She scanned the precinct, searched the meandering folks for dark trousers and a white top, and ran to a nearby road.

  Someone grabbed her arm, pulling her into the side. She turned and stared.

  Chapter 20

  'What the hell do you think you're doing?' Megan asked, attempting to wriggle free.

  Verity stepped around her, keeping her within her grasp, and peered towards the art gallery entrance, looking beyond the lingering throng on the lawns beside the walkway to the prestigious stone building. Her face depicted anxiety and was grey and laden with small lines.

  She shuffled from view. You should be staying away from these public functions. It’s not safe for you.'

  ‘So now you care.’

  She hesitated, grabbed her arm and encouraged her away, making short swift steps passing a bus stop and a row of houses. Cars crawled along the road, making little headway through the town and pausing at the traffic lights up ahead. There was a throbbing beat of drums amongst the rumble of engines, and an indecipherable sound of voices, yet there was apparent calm.

  Megan tussled free and stopped. ‘Why are you dragging me away?’

  ‘I’m trying to keep you safe. Have you any idea how much danger you're in?'

  'Just a bit. Someone tampered with Ben's car. I would have been dead if-'

  'No time. We have to keep moving.'

  Verity made a right turn along a street, scampered across the road, and headed past an adventure sports shop and a small office block. Megan blindly kept pace, but not for long, as her uncertainties gained clarity. Aware of her vulnerabilities, she feared the isolation of the empty urban street and wondered if she was walking to her death. She stopped trotting, clasped her hands together, and searched for a plan.

  She had no idea what she was doing following a woman, who up until recently had been a stranger. She had been safe with Larry in a public place. Now she was following Verity and they were going to some unexplained destination.

  She stopped. ‘I'm not going any further with you.’

  'You will if you know what's good for you.'

  'Don't threaten me.'

  'I'm not threatening you, I'm looking out for you. You're being watched.'

  'Yes, I know. By you! Just leave me alone.'

  Verity reached to her arm. 'Don't go back to Larry. Don't go through the centre. I'll take you home. I know a few back routes.'

  'How do I know I can trust you?'

  'You don't, but look.' She reached into her pocket. 'I have my house keys and a phone with me. What harm can I do?'

  Relying on intuition, she reasoned that she was not in danger, and so chose to walk with Verity, deciding it would give her opportunity to ask questions. Her body softened and her steps became slower and less mechanical.

  'Why are you helping me?'

  'Because I like you and because you remind me of Saskia. She wouldn't listen to me either and look where it got her. I'm not going to let this happen twice.'

  'You know why she was killed, don't you?'

  'No, I don't.'

  'Did you do it?'

  Verity did not flinch and kept her eyes on the path ahead. 'I was wondering when you would ask me that.'

  'So did you?'

  'Do you think I would tell you if I did?'

  She dropped her gaze. It was a ridiculous question.

  'You ask far too many questions. Just because you look like Saskia, it doesn't give you the right to probe into her life.'

  'Someone is trying to kill me. What am I supposed to do?'

  'You're supposed to leave.'

  She blew out. 'It sounds to me like you want me gone because you’re worried I'll find something out.'

  Verity jerked to a standstill and stared. 'Don't look into my life Megan, or Saskia's. I mean it.'

 
'I already know that you were in love with Ron. She stole him from you, didn't she?'

  'Who told you that?'

  She weaved past and continued walking. 'Do you still love him?'

  'It was over years ago, well before that idiot sister of mine married him.'

  'It seems to me that you and Ron wanted her dead so you could carry on seeing each other.'

  'If that were true we would have got back together after she left. I haven't spoken to him in years.'

  A small flock of birds darted across her path and bolted into a privet hedge, pursued by a ginger and white cat. Pausing, she watched it pounce over the low fence and disappear under the canopy of a Californian Lilac bush before she turned her attention back to Verity. ‘It seems motive enough to me.’

  'Think what you like, but Ron never loved me. Saskia was the only one for him. Something I accepted decades ago.'

  'You must have been angry with her. She didn't love him and you did.'

  Her jaw clenched and the muscles tightened around her neck. Was the pain still there? Was that why she remained single?

  'Saskia didn't care how I felt,’ she replied. ‘She had a plan and wanted to get out of the family home. We could have talked about it and come up with something together, but no, Saskia had to do something herself. We’d both had enough of our family and we did some stupid things.'

  The miscarriages were on the tip of Megan's tongue. When she saw the pain contort Verity's face, she thought better of it.

  'Is Ron dangerous?' she asked.

  'Dangerous? Seeing you has spooked him, as well as bringing back memories of his loss, but I don't think he would harm anyone. He's a well-liked member of the community. People trust him.'

  'I thought you just said you hadn't spoken to him in years.' She paused, studying her questioning face. ‘You said it as though you’d spoken recently.’

  Verity scowled. 'I knew him well enough to imagine how he would feel.'

  Was she backtracking? Suspicious, Megan wondered if they had remained in contact, or if not, if they had communicated since her arrival. They could both be involved in Saskia's disappearance. It would make sense that they would keep each other informed of any progress with the case.