Mismatch

by Tracie Delaney

  Rupe raised an eyebrow. “Feisty.”

  Aaron chuckled. “She’ll get over it.”

  They took Rupe’s car to the office. Aaron booted up his computer and pulled a chair around so he and Rupe could both see the screen.

  Once the operating system had gone through its checks, Aaron started up the test software. He inserted a USB cable into his laptop and held out his hand. “Give me your phone again.”

  Aaron plugged the other end of the USB cord into the computer and clicked through a few screens, feeding the software a few pertinent facts. After a couple of seconds, a bar appeared with the word “Searching” beneath it. As Rupe watched the bar edge to the right, the percentage completion increasing, a growing sense of impatience made his foot tap and his fingers drum on the desk.

  After five minutes, when the damn server hadn’t returned any results, Rupe got to his feet and stared down at the street. Hundreds of people darted about far below him, going about their business, while his life was on hold. He glanced over his shoulder.

  “Is that normal?” he said, pointing his chin at the circle whirring around on Aaron’s screen.

  “Yes. I’ve been trying to speed it up but haven’t had much success yet.”

  “As soon as I’ve got Jayne back, I’ll make it my number-one priority,” Rupe said, the focus on work staving off the terrible churning in his gut. Every second wasted was a second more that Jayne was in danger.

  Aaron reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. “Here. And don’t give me any grief about drinking this early. It’s still my day off, and you look like you need it.”

  “I wasn’t about to give you grief.” Rupe took the glass from Aaron and threw back the whiskey, the burn welcome and distracting. He bent down and peered at the screen. “Almost there.”

  “Yes, should return a result in a couple of minutes. I hope it finds something.”

  Rupe grimaced. “Not as much as I do.” At that moment, the screen changed, and a mobile number appeared.

  “Yes!” hissed Rupe. “Now trace it.”

  “It’ll only work if the phone is switched on.”

  “I know.”

  Aaron opened another programme and entered the phone number into it. The app returned immediate results.

  Not found

  Rupe slammed his hands on the desk. “Goddammit.”

  Aaron clapped him on the back. “The good news is we have the number, and he’ll have to switch his phone on at some point because he’ll need to make contact. I’ll set up a constant sweep, and as soon as it finds something, I’ll transfer the details straight to your phone.”

  “Thanks, man,” Rupe said. “Want a lift home?”

  “Nah. You’ve ruined my first day off in a month. Might as well stay here now.”

  Rupe half smiled. Aaron was a workaholic. It was one of the reasons Rupe had hired him to run the London operation. Well, that and the fact that the man was a technological genius. Sometimes he made Rupe look like a slouch, but then Rupe would use that as a kick up the arse to improve his own skills.

  “Thanks again. I’ll call you.” Rupe climbed in to his car and rested his forehead against the steering wheel. Anxiety swarmed in his gut, giving him a fluttery, hollow feeling. He started the engine and headed for home.

  As he pulled up outside his house, his phone pinged with an incoming text. His heart leaped into his throat. It was from Mike:

  I’m at the station. Incident team up and running. Don’t come down. You’ll only get in the way. I’ll call you later.

  A modicum of comfort swept through him. Thank God Mike had the clout and resources at his fingertips to move this quickly. Rupe considered tapping out a quick text telling Mike about the breakthrough with the tracking software, but he decided to wait and see if Aaron could locate Fisher first. No point waving a red flag on illegal activity if he didn’t need to.

  He trudged into the house, his eyes stinging from lack of sleep, his chest prickling with stress and worry. He steeled himself for Abi’s well-intentioned but overprotective mothering, but the house was quiet. As he entered the kitchen, he spotted a note she’d stuck to the fridge door: “Out shopping. Back later.”

  He rolled his eyes. No matter how many times he told Abi to order in from Ocado, she preferred the old-fashioned act of trawling around a supermarket.

  He touched the coffee pot. Still hot. After pouring a cup, he wandered into the living room and collapsed into a chair. Was it only yesterday that he and Jayne had been called to Mike’s office and told about Fisher? God, it seemed like much longer than that.

  After hours with no word from Mike or Aaron, Rupe began to lose hope. Didn’t they say the first twenty-four hours were critical, or was that for murder inquiries? From what Rupe knew about Fisher, he didn’t fear for Jayne’s life—at least not yet. As long as Fisher thought he had a chance of pulling this off—escaping capture and grabbing the cash—Jayne’s life wouldn’t be in danger. No, what worried Rupe much more was what Fisher was doing to her in the meantime. He’d already proved he wouldn’t hesitate to hit a woman. What else was he capable of?

  The room grew dim. Rupe glanced at the clock on his laptop. Eight fifteen. Jayne had been missing for over twenty-four hours. His heart cramped as he thought of her alone, scared, and in pain. What if she was hungry or thirsty? Oh God, he felt useless. He stepped over to the decanter of whiskey in the corner of his office, but before he could take out the stopper, his phone dinged.

  Rupe snatched it off his desk and saw a text from Aaron: He’s on.

  His pulse jolted, and his heart sped up. With shaking hands, he opened the app. Within seconds, a map appeared, and then a red dot. The dot was moving, signalling that the owner of the phone was on the move, and at that speed, he was using some sort of transport.

  Rupe ran downstairs and threw himself into his car. He floored the accelerator and set off for the police station. Fisher was on borrowed time.

  32

  Jayne jerked awake, her back screaming in agony, the muscles in her shoulders spasming, and her bladder fit to burst. She peered into the darkness, and after a couple of minutes, shapes began to form. How long had it been since Fisher had left? With the windows boarded up, she had no sense of time.

  She tried to shift a little in the chair. Every part of her was numb. The only saving grace was that it was summer. If she’d been taken in winter, the cold would have made her situation even more grim.

  She clenched her pelvic floor, which gave a momentary reprieve from the desperate need to pee, but the minute she released her inner muscles, the pain roared back. She had no choice. She was going to have to let it go. She relaxed her bladder. Rather than embarrassment, she felt a strong sense of relief.

  Something rustled in the corner. Jayne strained her eyes, recoiling when her gaze fell on an enormous rat. Oh hell. She wasn’t exactly afraid of the large rodents, but she didn’t fancy having to fight the bugger off, particularly with her limited range of movement. As long as it stayed on its side of the ramshackle hut, she wouldn’t freak out.

  The sound of a car engine reached her, slowly getting closer and closer. She heard a door slam, feet running. The door to the shack was flung open. A torch shone in her eyes. She flinched and turned her head to the side.

  “Urgh, you dirty bitch,” Fisher spat out. “You fucking reek.”

  Jayne set her jaw, and despite being at a serious disadvantage and worried about what he might do, she let rip. “Well, what the hell did you expect me to do, you bloody idiot? No toilet, no ability to go even if there had been one because you’ve got me tied to this fucking chair! And you’ve been gone for hours!”

  Fisher stuck the torch in his mouth and unlocked her handcuffs. Jayne shook out her hands as blood flowed to her extremities, the agony almost unbearable.

  He yanked her to her feet. “Well, lucky for you, I’ve found better accommodation.” His hand tightened around her upper arm, and he shoved her to
wards the door. She stumbled before righting herself. As he propelled her outside, his grip loosened slightly. Jayne took a deep breath and slammed her elbow backwards, towards his ribs. Fisher grunted and released her. Jayne took off. She ignored the pain in the soles of her bare feet and her burning lungs as she stumbled into the night.

  She had no idea where she was going. All she could see was blackness. She stuck her hands out in front and carried on running. Damn, but the countryside was dark and more than a little scary. She wanted to turn around, to check whether Fisher was behind her, but she was too scared. She had to keep going and hope she was heading towards civilisation.

  Her foot caught a tree root and she sprawled to the ground. She cried out as her ankle twisted beneath her.

  “There you are, you fucking bitch.” Fisher grabbed her hair and hauled her to her feet. Jayne screamed in agony as yet another chunk of her hair came away from her scalp. She stumbled as Fisher dragged her back to the car. He threw her onto the rear seats and climbed on top of her, his knees digging painfully into her thighs. Jayne struggled and swung her fists, but Fisher was too quick. He captured her wrists in one of his hands. His other fist came towards her face. Jayne tried to turn away, but his punch connected, and her cheek exploded in agony.

  With her head swimming, she struggled to focus. Fisher yanked one of her arms straight, and she felt the scratch of a needle. Her eyes grew too heavy to keep open. Her last thought was I’m fucked.

  Rupe abandoned his car in the only available space—a disabled one—when he arrived at the station. He pushed open the door, and it bounced off the hinges. A middle-aged couple seated on grey plastic chairs briefly looked up before the woman resumed her rocking and murmuring under her breath. The man absentmindedly patted her hand.

  “I need to see Mike Wilson. Now,” Rupe said to the copper behind the front desk.

  “Is that right.” The sergeant in charge looked up from his crossword with an arched eyebrow. “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No.”

  “Then take a seat, sir,” he said, pointing at the row of chairs. “I’ll have to see if I can get hold of him. What’s it about?”

  “Fuck this,” Rupe muttered, shaking his head. He ignored the sergeant’s question and dialled Mike’s number. After what seemed like an age, Mike answered.

  “I’m downstairs,” Rupe said. “Your desk sergeant is being a little obstructive.”

  Mike chuckled. “That’s what we pay them for. Hang on, I’m coming down.”

  Rupe gave the sergeant a triumphant look, but the man simply shrugged and returned to completing the crossword. About five minutes later, Mike appeared and indicated for Rupe to follow him down a hallway that was in desperate need of a lick of paint.

  “How are you doing?” Mike said as they entered his office. He invited Rupe to sit down.

  “I have a lock on Fisher.”

  Mike’s eyes widened. “How?”

  Rupe called up the app on his phone. The red dot was stationary, its blinking like a huge beacon calling out. “That’s him.”

  A flush spread across Mike’s neck. “Can you zoom in?”

  Rupe nodded. He double-clicked on the screen until the app had drilled down to show road names.

  “How did you get this?” Mike said, disbelief mingling with excitement in his voice.

  “You don’t want to know,” Rupe said with a grimace.

  Mike shook his head. “In that case, you’re right. I don’t.”

  Rupe gave a faint smile, but it fell when a text appeared. Fisher. Rupe and Mike took a sharp intake of breath. With his heart pounding in his chest, Rupe opened the message. Another picture of Jayne, this time Fisher had her splayed out in the back seat of a car. Her eyes were closed, and her cheek appeared even more swollen. Underneath, Fisher had written two words: Tick Tock.

  Rupe lurched to his feet. “Let’s go get him.”

  “Hang on. We need to do this the right way. I’ll brief the team.”

  Rupe scowled. “One of your officers is holding my girlfriend. If you won’t do anything, I will.”

  Mike rose from his chair and placed his hands flat on his desk. “If you go barrelling in, all guns blazing, we don’t know what he’ll do. Let me handle this, please. I know what I’m doing, and in case it has slipped your notice, I’ve known Jayne a lot longer than you. I am equally interested in bringing her home safe and sound as quickly as possible.”

  Rupe fixed Mike with a stare, and then his shoulders slumped. “Please just get her back.”

  Mike came around his desk and patted Rupe’s shoulder. “We will.”

  At that moment, the red dot disappeared, and Rupe cursed.

  “What does that mean?” Mike asked.

  “He’s switched off his phone. The app only works when it can get a bead on a signal.” Rupe slammed his fist on Mike’s desk. “Dammit. I bet that means he’s on the move.”

  “But he’ll have to switch it on again to contact us, so don’t get too disheartened. We know where he is right now, and with any luck, that’s also where he’s keeping Jayne. I’ll grab a couple of officers, and we’ll check out that location. Even if she’s not there, this is still more intel than we had five minutes ago. You can stay here in my office if you like.”

  Rupe shot Mike an incredulous look. “You actually think I’m going to stay here when Jayne is out there, hurt and scared?”

  “That’s exactly what I think. We could be going to a potential crime scene. I can’t have civilians tramping about.”

  Rupe’s lips clamped into a firm line. “Either I ride along with you, or I go alone. Your choice. The latter means I get there before you.”

  The two men stared at each other, one determined, the other reluctant. Eventually, Mike expelled a resigned sigh. “Fine. But you do exactly what I tell you. Got it?”

  Rupe waited outside the incident room while Mike briefed his detectives. A couple of minutes later, he appeared with two suits and introduced them. The detectives—Barry and Steve—shook Rupe’s hand, and the four of them headed out.

  Rupe rode in the front of the car, which was unmarked, thank God—they didn’t need to signal their arrival—while Barry and Steve climbed in the back. Mike tapped some details into a sat nav system, and the mechanical voice gave them directions.

  About an hour later, the sat nav announced that they’d arrived at their destination. They were surrounded by countryside and very little else. Rupe and Mike shared a look.

  “This can’t be it,” Rupe said. “There’s nothing here.”

  “Let’s get out and look around.” Mike cut the engine, and the four of them began walking up and down the road. Rupe wandered away from the others as his initial hopes plummeted. They’d been sent on a wild goose chase. His app didn’t work. He cursed and fisted his hands in his hair and tugged hard, the resulting pain a short-term distraction from his failure.

  “Hey,” Barry shouted, his muffled voice carried away on the wind. “Over here.”

  Rupe ran towards him. When he reached the detective, his pulse jumped. Set back a little way from the road was a padlocked five-bar gate leading into a field. Beyond that, a grassy path had turned into more of a dirt track. Recent tyre tracks meant a car had been there. Could be a farmer, or it could be Fisher.

  “Get that padlock off,” Mike ordered.

  Steve jogged back to the car and returned with a set of bolt cutters. Within seconds, the padlock fell to the ground. He pushed the gate open. Mike fetched the car and drove through. As they all jumped back inside, Mike nudged Rupe’s arm.

  “Remember, you’re here as an observer. No heroics.”

  Rupe nodded, even though he inwardly acknowledged that if they found Jayne or Fisher, Mike’s instructions would be summarily ignored.

  They drove to the far side of the field, where a narrow track appeared to their left.

  “Down there,” Rupe said.

  Mike turned in, and after a short while, the track widened. All four
of them spotted the hut at the same time.

  “Stop,” Rupe shouted. He threw himself outside while the car was still coming to a halt.

  “Goddammit,” Mike cursed behind him, but Rupe was beyond caring about protocol or procedures or the fact that Mike could end up in deep shit if something went wrong.

  The door of the hut was locked, but the wood was so rotten that a couple of kicks to the middle sorted it. As the door flew open, the stench almost made Rupe retch. Rats scattered as they realised their haven had been breached. Animal faeces, urine, and mould all combined to assault his senses, but worse than all those things, Jayne wasn’t there.

  Mike shone a torch around the shack. The place had no fixtures or fittings or even furniture, except for a wooden straight-backed chair off to one side. Debris was scattered all over the floor.

  The detectives began combing the floor. Then, as Mike’s torch swept past the chair, Rupe saw it—a tiny silver hoop earring.

  “Stop,” Rupe said. “Go back.”

  Mike shone the torch to where Rupe was pointing.

  Rupe bent down and picked it up. “This is Jayne’s.”

  “You’re right,” Mike said, moving in for a closer look.

  “So she was here.” Rupe scrubbed his face with a weary hand. “And we’re too late.”

  “Any more from that app of yours?”

  Rupe took his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. “No.” Despair swamped him, and his shoulders sagged.

  Mike turned to Steve. “Call this in. I want forensics all over this place and the surrounding area.”

  “Yes, sir,” Steve replied.

  Mike clapped Rupe on the back. “This is good news. We’re getting closer.”

  Yeah, but will it be enough to save Jayne?

  33

  Jayne groaned as she regained consciousness. She struggled into a seated position. Searing pain throbbed in her right cheek, and she could only open her left eye. To make matters worse, whatever she’d been drugged with was playing havoc with her ability to think straight. Her brain felt as if someone had stuffed it with cotton wool, and her one good eye wouldn’t focus properly.