The Evidence: A completely unputdownable psychological thriller with a shocking twist

by K. L. Slater

  ‘Only me, ringing to see if you’re back at the house yet,’ Owen’s voice said brightly from somewhere near my feet.

  I leaned forward to speak, feeling about with my fingertips under the seat. ‘We’ve just left the office now, I’ll be home in about fifteen minutes. How’s Zach feeling?’ He’d had a physio appointment at the hospital, straight after school.

  ‘He’s doing great, aren’t you, champ?’ I heard Zachary grunt vaguely in reply. I’d have been willing to bet my life he was playing on his Nintendo Switch, even though I’d told Owen a million times he wasn’t to have it until after he’d done his homework. But was it worth the hassle of raising it with him right now, in the back of a cab? No.

  ‘Perfect. Listen, I know I’m supposed to be keeping Zach for another hour or so but… is it OK if I pop over to the house? I’ve got a little something to help celebrate your news. I’m so chuffed for you, Esme.’

  My heart sank a little at the thought of Owen coming over. I could really do without it tonight.

  Michelle sat forward and dramatically mimed No!, waving her hands at me. I turned slightly away so as not to laugh.

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, ignoring a dig in the ribs from Michelle. ‘I appreciate it, Owen, but you really didn’t need to do that.’

  ‘It’s not much, just something to mark your success… well, anyway, you’ll see when you get back.’

  My heart felt heavy when Owen ended the call. I was so looking forward to kicking back and chilling out with Zachary and Michelle. We’d planned to get an Indian takeaway and download some movie Zachary was desperate to watch.

  I knew Zach would love his dad being there too, but lately, Owen had been outstaying his welcome at the house and it really changed the dynamic of the evening. I found I wasn’t able to fully relax with him there, and Michelle wouldn’t be herself either, making it difficult for us to chat about the meeting tomorrow once Zachary went to bed.

  Even though everything was what I’d call ‘amicable’ between me and Owen – we’d agreed to stay on friendly terms for Zachary’s sake and we hadn’t started divorce proceedings yet – it just felt wrong to be carrying on as though we still lived together. It could be confusing for Zach. Although we were still legally married, I considered Owen to be my ex-husband in every other sense but he didn’t seem to have the same vision.

  I scanned the road in front of the cab, on the lookout for any more crazy drivers.

  Michelle looked at me. ‘Esme, it’s got to stop, you know. Owen is taking more and more liberties. Jeez, he’ll be moving back in soon!’

  ‘He won’t. I wouldn’t allow that to happen.’

  ‘You talk as if you’re in charge and yet he seems to make all the decisions. Have you never noticed that?’

  There wasn’t any love lost between Michelle and Owen. She thought he was a bit of a waster and he considered her to be too interfering. Both descriptions were off in my opinion, and it was no fun being stuck in the middle of it.

  But Michelle hadn’t finished yet, she was on a post-drinking roll.

  ‘Let’s think about the last few days… he came over to pick Zach up for a sleepover and ended up staying an hour before taking him. He found some reason to scout around your garden shed for some mystery tool he desperately needed when he brought Zach home after school yesterday. Now, he’s bought you a gift that involves him coming round yet again and finding an excuse to gatecrash the evening.’

  ‘I know, I know.’ I sighed. ‘I’ve been hoping the situation will get better but—’

  ‘It just keeps getting worse,’ she finished for me, throwing herself back in the seat. ‘I’ve noticed. He fobs you off with excuses all the time. Always has done. Maybe it’s time you stopped being so gullible.’

  I was beginning to wish I’d just left her at the party and got a cab back on my own. I steered the conversation away from mudslinging.

  ‘Thing is, Zachary finally seems more settled at school and his teacher says he’s doing well again. I really don’t want to rock the boat with Owen when he’s such a big part of Zach’s everyday life. He needs that stability.’

  ‘I do get that, but his father being around so much could just be plain confusing for him, too. Owen is reading you all wrong, Esme. He treats the house as if he still lives there, and when you don’t challenge him, he thinks that means you’re happy with things as they are.’

  I shifted in my seat and gripped the inside handle as the cab swung into a side street. I didn’t want to hear it, but I couldn’t think of a suitable retort, largely because what she said was… well, the truth. The house was still full of Owen’s belongings. Through necessity – him picking Zach up from school sometimes and bringing him home – Owen still had a set of keys. But in addition to this, he’d often walk in unannounced, pour himself a glass of juice from the fridge or make a cup of tea without asking. He had a temperamental boiler at the bedsit and he sometimes announced he needed to grab a shower at the house if he had no hot water.

  ‘He was in favour of you two separating, wasn’t he?’ Michelle remarked, ignoring my silence. ‘It wasn’t as if someone forced his hand?’

  She was right again. When Owen and I separated, it had been a very civilised affair and an entirely mutual decision… on the surface, at least. Over time we’d managed to turn into completely different people and there had started to be blazing rows: resentment and fury flaring up over the most inconsequential things, like who had forgotten to put the immersion heater on for hot water or who had failed to take out the correct refuse bin for collection.

  I glanced over at Michelle. She’d clamped up and was staring out of the window now. It was so easy for her to see where Owen and I were going wrong and what we should do to put it right.

  She didn’t have complicated emotions getting in the way or a vulnerable son to worry about. Sometimes I envied the simplicity of my sister’s life, the way she managed to excel at the different strands.

  I craved more time with Zachary and yet constantly piled more and more on myself to make the business a success. All so I could somehow try and offset the negativity of the accident and give my son the future he deserved.

  Some days, that felt more impossible than others.

  Six

  SUNDAY 8.39 a.m.

  I stared at the two detectives on the doorstep. My heart felt like it was ready to leap out of my mouth.

  ‘What’s happened? Have you found my sister?’

  The shorter detective, Lewis, said, ‘Is it OK if we come inside to talk, Ms Fox?’

  I looked past them, out on to the street. Fortunately there was nobody around to witness their visit, and I wanted to keep it that way. If the press got wind of this they would revel in the scent of a story. Some of them had been scathing about my announcement for the launch of The Fischer Files. I stood aside and gestured for the detectives to come inside.

  ‘My son’s upstairs. I’ll just need to check if he’s OK before we talk,’ I said, closing the front door behind them.

  ‘Of course. Take your time.’

  I asked them to take a seat in the living room and ran upstairs.

  Zachary stood on the landing. His face looked so pale in the early light. ‘What is it, Mum? Who are those men?’

  ‘They’re just here to talk to me, sweetie. Can you do me a really big favour and stay in your bedroom for a while?’

  ‘I want to come downstairs and hear what they’re saying. Do they know where Aunt Miche is yet?’ His chest heaved as his breathing became more irregular. I stepped closer to him so I could check if he was actually taking in air. After the accident he suffered from the most awful panic attacks, that would often strike out of the blue. ‘When is she coming home?’

  I reached for his hand and his eyes filled up. ‘Hey, we’re going to sort this out, OK?’ He squeezed my fingers and nodded but he didn’t look very convinced. ‘Come on, watch a bit of TV in your room and I promise, the moment they’ve gone, I’ll tell you all about what they said.�
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  Zachary sniffed and walked back to his bedroom with me, his head hanging. He climbed back in bed – I could see the panic on his face and I felt helpless. He shouldn’t have this kind of worry at his age. At the same time, I couldn’t focus properly because I was desperate to see what the police had to say. I tucked him in and kissed his forehead. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can, sweetie. Watch something happy.’ I handed him the remote control and he took it silently. I closed his door and headed back downstairs, swallowing down a rising feeling of nausea.

  My scheduled visit to Simone Fischer tomorrow flitted into my mind. Nobody else could help me out by taking my place; I had to be the one to go. Everything I’d planned and organised could suddenly flip, with a domino effect.

  ‘Do you know where my sister is?’ I said, as soon as I walked into the living room.

  The detectives glanced at each other again. Sharpe sat forward and laced his fingers in front of him.

  ‘Please, Ms Fox, sit down.’ He waited until I’d done so before continuing. ‘I’m very sorry to tell you that Michelle has been admitted to the Queen’s Medical Centre. She was found by a member of the public and I’m afraid she has suffered some very serious injuries.’

  My hand flew up to my mouth.

  ‘What kind of injuries?’ I whispered. ‘Is she going to be OK?’

  ‘I’m afraid it’s too early to say,’ he said gravely. ‘She’s been badly beaten and has been slipping in and out of consciousness.’

  ‘Oh no. No…’ My skull felt as though it was squeezing in on itself. ‘Where has she been for the last two days? Lying in a ditch somewhere? Where was she found?’

  Panic pushed at my words, making them come out fast and jumbled.

  ‘An early-morning dog walker found her, just off a trail, in a wooded area of Wollaton Park. Her car was found at the entrance to the park and that’s being combed for evidence as we speak.’

  I dashed away the tears with the back of my hand. Like most Nottinghamians, I knew Wollaton Park well. It surrounded the Wollaton Hall, an Elizabethan country house that stood in the centre of the 500-acre warren of walking and cycling trails that included a deer park. You could easily get lost in there if you didn’t know your way around.

  ‘What would she be doing in the woods?’ Michelle didn’t walk for exercise, she was a gym bunny, often calling there after dropping Zachary at school. There was no reason I could think of why she’d be out there.

  DC Lewis cleared his throat. ‘She wasn’t doing anything as such.’ He looked at his colleague. ‘She was… left there.’

  ‘You mean someone attacked her and then just… just dumped her there?’

  Lewis lowered his eyes. ‘I’m afraid that’s exactly how it looks, yes.’

  Seven

  THREE DAYS EARLIER

  When the cab arrived outside our house I noticed, with a twist of irritation, that Owen’s violet Smart car was parked in my spot on the driveway. He’d agreed to park on the road whenever he came over so I could park my car for the night without having to go out again to move it. I’d left my car at work but still. That’s hardly the point.

  I paid the cab driver as Michelle climbed out. ‘I’ll speak to Owen if you like, Esme. If it makes it easier, I can tell him it’s time to back off a bit.’

  I shook my head. ‘I’ll sort it.’

  Inside the house, I heard Zachary let out a hoot of excitement. He limped quickly into the hallway to give me a hug, his face bright.

  ‘Dad has brought something over for you,’ he said, leading me into the kitchen. ‘It’s a present.’

  ‘That’s nice.’ I plonked my bag down on the side as Owen appeared in the doorway. ‘You didn’t have to do that.’

  ‘It’s not much but… I just wanted to mark your special moment.’

  He walked across the room, opened the longest cupboard and pulled out a large package wrapped in brown paper and string.

  ‘Ooh, wonder what that is,’ Michelle said for Zach’s benefit. He pressed his lips tighter as if he was trying to contain the surprise.

  ‘Hope you like it,’ Owen said coyly, winking at Zachary.

  It was quite obviously a picture of some sort. I cut the string and unwrapped the paper to reveal a framed version of our official The Fischer Files advertisement poster we’d used online.

  ‘It’s for your office,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, that’s… different,’ Michelle remarked. I heard the ridicule threaded through it, so I’m sure Owen did, too. Yes, it was a bit naff and cheesy but I appreciated the gesture all the same.

  ‘Thank you, Owen. It’s lovely.’ I propped the frame up on the hob so it rested on the stainless-steel splashback. ‘It’s really thoughtful of you.’

  The way he was looking at me, like he used to in our early years together… I squirmed a little inside. I’d agreed to him coming over and now I felt worried I was sending out the wrong messages again.

  Michelle went upstairs to get changed and Zachary grabbed his game off the worktop and sauntered out.

  Owen headed for the garden, apparently to get more of his tools out of the shed. ‘There’s a leaking water pipe under the sink at the flat,’ he grumbled before closing the back door. ‘The place is falling to pieces. To tell you the truth, Esme, I’m really starting to hate living there.’

  I took a glass of water into the living room where Zachary was playing Super Mario. A few moments passed before he realised I’d sat down.

  ‘Mum, do you think Dad might move back in with us?’ He put down his controls and looked at me, his eyes bright. ‘I know he moved to be closer to work but I think he likes being here best.’

  So Zachary had noticed, too.

  ‘Your dad will always like coming here to see you, Zach,’ I said lightly. ‘But he doesn’t live here anymore, you know that.’

  His expression dulled and he picked up his controller again without replying.

  His face brightened again when the back door slammed as Owen returned from the garden.

  ‘Dad, wanna help me get this last star?’ he yelled without looking at me.

  Owen appeared at the living room door. I noticed he’d slipped off his trainers and he must have left his toolbox by the back door.

  ‘I need to get around that trap, see, Dad.’ Owen nodded to the screen. ‘This is my third try to get the star and I can’t move to the next level without it.’

  ‘OK, make way for the expert then.’ Owen walked over to Zachary and gave me a wink. ‘I’ll help in an advisory capacity and then it’s not cheating. Right, son?’

  ‘Right.’ Zachary grinned.

  ‘Actually, Owen, I think it might be best if Zachary stops playing now,’ I said. ‘I’m about to order our pizzas.’

  ‘Mmm, Dominos, I bet.’ Owen rolled his eyes approvingly and Zachary laughed. ‘My favourite.’

  ‘You can stay and have some too, if you like, Dad.’ Zachary beamed, looking at me. ‘That’s OK, isn’t it, Mum?’

  ‘Well… we were going to watch a movie too, Zachary. Remember?’

  ‘Dad can watch it with us, can’t he?’

  They both looked at me expectantly.

  ‘I’ve got a really important meeting in the morning,’ I said. ‘I’ll need some quiet time and an early night.’

  Finally, Owen seemed to get it. He blinked, startled by the realisation that I didn’t want him here.

  ‘Actually, champ, I just remembered I can’t stay this time because I have to fix that bust pipe I told you about.’ He ruffled Zach’s hair as our boy let out a disappointed howl. ‘Next time, eh?’

  ‘I’ll help you get your stuff together,’ I said. Owen followed me back through to the kitchen.

  ‘Thanks again for the gift,’ I said, pushing the door to behind him. ‘It was a lovely thought.’

  ‘No worries.’ His voice was flat now. ‘I didn’t realise you had a problem with me being here, Esme.’

  ‘I don’t! I mean, I don’t have a problem with you coming in t
he house at all, it’s just that… well, you stay too long sometimes.’

  ‘Sounds like something Michelle might say.’ He gave me a sardonic smile. ‘I suppose it’s not in her interests that we stay cordial.’

  ‘It’s difficult for Zachary to tell the difference between being cordial and us getting back together, Owen,’ I sighed, rubbing my forehead with the heel of my hand. ‘When you were down the garden just now, he asked if you were going to move back in with us.’

  ‘Would it be so disastrous, really?’ He stepped forward, sensing his moment. ‘It’s not too late for us, you know. I think we’ve both learned where we went wrong and—’

  ‘Owen, please.’ A dull thud started up in my temples.

  ‘Just hear me out.’ I winced as his voice broke. ‘I miss you both… I miss you so much. I sit in that shitty bedsit every night drinking too much red wine and—’

  ‘I’m sorry if you don’t like your new place but that’s hardly a good enough reason for getting back together!’ Sometimes he could rile me in seconds and frankly, I didn’t miss it. He had this way, over the years, of pretending to agree to everything we talked about when in reality he was out to get something altogether different. In fact, at that very second, I realised that I didn’t miss anything about being married to Owen at all. I braced myself. ‘Maybe it’s time we did this thing properly. Splitting up, I mean.’

  His face paled. ‘What? You mean… you want a divorce?’

  I felt suddenly lightheaded but also exhilarated at the thought of it, the chance to draw a line at last. I turned around and ran a cloth over the worktop.

  ‘It would be cleaner, Owen. Gets rid of all this ambiguity. I know we said—’

  ‘But we agreed: no divorce yet. We both agreed Zachary came first, above our own squabbles.’

  ‘And he always will do. But the lines are too blurred between us; we need some clarity. It’s healthier for everyone.’

  A few moments of awkward silence. I felt lighter inside, just finding the courage to voice my feelings.