Dead of Night [Full Book]

by Paul J. Teague

  The man zipped up, picked up the gun and headed back to the small clearing.

  ‘Must be a cold night. Looking a bit small there, Blake!’

  It was a woman’s voice. He hadn’t expected that. One of them was a woman.

  Jack watched Blake’s hand move to the knife he kept in a sheath attached to his belt. For a moment he thought he was going to take it out and gut her. There was a pause, then he laughed.

  ‘You should know, Rosa. You’ve seen enough cocks in your life!’

  It was forced, but it eased the tension. His hand moved away from the large hunting knife to his cartridges. He reloaded the shotgun. Jack watched, assessing them, trying to calculate if he could outrun them, he certainly wouldn’t be able to fight them.

  They were big and strong, violent too, he’d seen that already. Even Rosa looked formidable. Jack was wiry and athletic – sure, he could run, but he was defenceless in every other way. His only chance of getting away was fitness and cunning, these guys looked tough but they were too heavy to keep up with him in a test of speed.

  As he heard them discussing how they would scour the woods, Jack considered stepping out from behind the tree which had done such an effective job in shielding him. Could he talk his way out of this situation? Leaning against the trunk, his breathing gradually returned to normal and for a few seconds it felt like the right thing to do. He didn’t know if he was up to this dangerous game of cat and mouse.

  Then, as had happened with the deer minutes earlier, there was the snap of a twig in the distance. Immediately the men jumped into action. Jack saw how well they worked in a team. They had to be military.

  The torches pointed in the direction of the sound.

  ‘It’s him!’

  ‘Stick to the plan, Arne! You work back uphill to cut him off and make sure he heads down towards the river. The rest of you, fan out wide and diagonally, keep him to the water’s edge.’

  For a moment, Jack thought the game was up, that they’d spotted him behind the tree. But the torches were shining ahead into the distance. Then he saw it, a glimpse of a fluorescent strip reflecting in the darkness. It was Lucy. She was alive. She’d taken flight into the woods, they could only have been a short distance away from each other. They’d spotted her. She was running again, flushed out of her hiding place. And she was heading in the direction that they wanted, directly up to the river’s edge. That’s where they’d corner her.

  Lucy threw the last of Hamish’s dirty clothes into the washing machine. It never seemed to end. How could one tiny person create so much crap? He wasn’t even moving about properly yet, but already the house had been turned upside down and there didn’t appear to be a corner untouched by some item of baby paraphernalia.

  If she hadn’t felt so disengaged by it all, she might have got the house tidied up in time. Sophie was due at eleven o’clock and then they were heading into town for a coffee. Clive had suggested it to Jack on the train up to Aberdeen, it had seemed like a good idea. It would get Lucy out of the village and give her some adult company for a change.

  Lucy had been lost in thought for most of the morning. She’d been searching through properties on Rightmove, fantasising about a relocation to the town, or even better, the city. She’d get involved in toddler groups, maybe even get Hamish in day care. If she could get him in a nursery, if she didn’t have to spend every damn hour with him, perhaps she might be able to turn things around.

  They could get a good-sized terrace in the city, somewhere with parking, and they’d perhaps make a bit of money on the house. Jack might be able to find work locally. Maybe things could work out.

  Lucy struggled not to plunge herself into a downward spiral of depression. The house had had no interest for months. Only carpet treaders and locals keen for a snoop inside. Nothing serious.

  Even if they did get a bite, how long would it take to move on? By the time any buyers had buggered around trying to price drop on the basis of the survey, it could be another three months. She wasn’t sure if she could last that long. If it ever became too much, she had her plan.

  Jack didn’t seem to be listening to her. Not really listening. She had to get out. Out of that house. Out of that village. Out of that endless cycle of weekdays on her own. And away from Hamish. There, she’d admitted it to herself. It was Hamish she needed to be away from. He was suffocating her.

  At least the running helped. Jack had been right about that. Out on the road, with or without Jack accompanying her at the weekends, she felt like her old self again. It’s how they’d met. It seemed so long ago. The university running club. It was just the two of them back then, of course. Hamish – the twins – didn’t come along for another ten years. She associated all the bad times with the pregnancy. That’s when the business went bad. It didn’t help that she had to finish work early because she was so sick in the mornings. And Helen, of course. She moved her mind off that topic, thinking about Helen took her to a darker place altogether.

  Lucy had plotted it out soon after Jack started working in Aberdeen. Maxine was trustworthy. She’d call her in on a day when Jack was travelling back from Aberdeen. That way she wouldn’t get stuck with Hamish, Jack would be there to take him off her within a few hours. She’d order a taxi and tell Maxine that she was throwing out some old clothes that didn’t fit her any more, not since she’d had the baby. That would explain the suitcase too.

  ‘I’m getting rid of these at the charity shop!’ she’d announce. She’d snapped straight back into shape anyway, but Maxine wouldn’t ask any questions. She’d assume Lucy was seeing things when she looked in the mirror.

  Instead of going into town, Lucy would head for the city. It would be a hefty taxi fare, but she’d been squirrelling away a small cash supply. She had enough to survive without using cards for a month if she was careful and got some shitty bedsit. One month. To sort her life out. And if it didn’t work out? There was always the other option. The worst-case scenario. It wouldn’t come to that, she was certain. If she could only have a break and catch her breath.

  Lucy heard a car door slam outside. She assumed it was Sophie. Sophie was ten years younger, still in her mid-twenties. Clive wasn’t the marrying kind. He liked to keep a younger woman in tow, and he usually moved on when they raised the issue of babies. Maybe this was what the babysitting suggestion was all about – a chance for Sophie to see that having kids isn’t all blissful bedtime stories and ball games in the park.

  Lucy envied Sophie her youth and ignorance. If she could turn back the clock, she’d stay as they were. Just her and Jack, plenty of cash, lots of freedom, no kids. Sophie needed to be careful what she wished for.

  There was a knock on the door, loud and confident.

  ‘Hi Lucy. I’m Sophie. I’m so pleased to meet you. What a lovely place you have here, so nice to raise a family.’

  Lucy bit her lip, she didn’t want the first words out of her mouth to be a rant.

  ‘Thanks for coming round, Sophie – and for you and Clive volunteering to babysit at the weekend. I … we really appreciate it.’

  ‘No problem at all. Where is the little guy?’

  ‘He’s over there, asleep in his pram. If we’re lucky, he’ll stay that way for most of the time we’re out. He was awake half the night. That’s why I look so rough.’

  ‘Nonsense, you look fabulous. I hope I look as good after I have kids. You look in amazing shape.’

  ‘Thanks. I think the running has helped. I seem to have lost most of my baby weight.’

  ‘You’re wonderful the way you run like that. Clive goes out when he’s home, but it’s not for me. I prefer the gym – chat with the girls and coffee afterwards. Much more my style. Speaking of which!’

  ‘I tell you what, I’ll ring Maxine and she can sit with Hamish while we pop into town for a coffee. Maxine was in. She could spare two hours. Sophie picked her up in the car and they left her at the house with a pile of textbooks to mind a sleeping Hamish.

  As they
drove around looking for a parking place, Lucy could tell Sophie was gearing up to ask her something.

  ‘I’m pleased it’s just you and me,’ Sophie began. ‘It’s not that I didn’t want to get to know Hamish, of course, but I wanted to have a chat to you about something.’

  Lucy was shaken out of her daydream and now paying full attention to Sophie.

  ‘I’m only asking you this because … well, um, Jack and Clive know each other … and they’re a similar age ...’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Lucy encouraged. ‘I won’t say anything to Jack.’

  This seemed to give Sophie courage.

  ‘When they … when guys get to their forties, do they start to have problems ... down there?’

  Lucy felt as if she’d stepped onto the set of a Carry On film. She wanted to burst out laughing, but she kept a straight face.

  ‘It’s not common at that age, I think, but that doesn’t mean it won’t happen. A fit chap like Clive, it shouldn’t. Why, is there something wrong?’

  ‘He just seems to have gone off s-e-x recently,’ she continued. ‘To be honest with you, I wonder if he’s having an affair.’

  Lucy couldn’t get over how quaint Sophie was for such an attractive and confident young woman. She could tell she wanted to be listened to. It was hard to admit the truth and she was clearly bothered by it. She must feel that Lucy could help.

  ‘I don’t know about Clive, but Jack is so tired after a week in Aberdeen that he’s not really interested in anything at the weekends. He sleeps, we run, and he spends time with Hamish. Then it’s back on the train on Sunday evening. Groundhog Day, I think they call it in the States.’

  ‘But Clive ... he seems to making lots of secretive calls recently. He never tells me who it is. Just work! he says. But he’s always so furtive. I think I might be losing him.’

  Lucy knew that feeling alright, but she kept it to herself.

  ‘It won’t be you, it’ll be a problem at work, I’m sure. Jack’s always saying that Clive can’t stop talking about you.’

  Lucy enjoyed her short time in town with Sophie. They had a coffee, chatted through Sophie’s concerns, and got to know each other better. She seemed young and a little naive to Lucy, but she instantly warmed to her, she could see that she had a good heart. Clive should hang onto this woman for dear life.

  It wasn’t long before they were back in the car again heading home to Hamish and Maxine.

  ‘I hope you’ll trust me with Hamish overnight. I know it’s hard to leave them when they’re so young,’ said Sophie.

  ‘Of course we’ll trust you. Jack and I are really grateful that you and Clive are happy to come over. And being away from home might give you both a chance to talk. I’m certainly looking forward to having Jack to myself for the weekend.’

  ‘I can’t wait, honestly!’ Sophie replied. ‘I’d love a child of my own. Hopefully Clive will feel the same way sometime soon ...’

  She tailed off as she realised that Lucy’s attention was suddenly elsewhere. She had twisted round in her seat to look at a car that had driven past them as they’d turned into the lane that led to the house.

  ‘What is it?’ Sophie asked. ‘Do you know them? Should I stop?’

  Lucy was silent, craning her neck to be certain of what she’d seen. It was the same car that she’d been given a ride in the week before. It was the woman that she’d met in the cemetery. The road didn’t go anywhere, it was a dead end. There was only one place she could have been, she must have been to Lucy’s house. So what was she doing there?

  Jack thought nothing more about his encounter with Anna in the washroom. He headed out into the car park. Clive was a fast walker and there was little chance they’d run into each other with such a good head start, so he was confident about going into town.

  He called Lucy. The line was engaged. What were the chances of that? He’d hoped to catch her over lunch. He tried again. Still busy. Who would she be talking to at that time of day?

  Jack slipped into a sandwich shop in the city centre and idly looked out of the window as his sandwich was being prepared.

  ‘Do you want butter?’ the girl asked.

  ‘Yes please,’ Jack replied, not really caring. ‘Actually, better make that something low fat if you’ve got it. I need to take care of my six-pack!’

  He smiled at her but she ignored him. Jack let her get on with it, and watched what was going on outside.

  Shit! Clive! He was sitting on a bench across the road, deep in conversation on his mobile phone. He’d have to give him time to move on.

  ‘I’ll eat that here, please.’ The girl nodded and moved the knife more aggressively over the roll.

  Clive ended his call but didn’t move. He seemed to be waiting for someone.

  Jack’s sandwich arrived. He added a bottle of still water, paid for it, and pulled up a chair at a table near the window from where he could survey Clive. As he tucked into his sandwich, he decided to try Lucy again. This time she picked up.

  ‘Hey!’ he said, his mouth full of ham. He’d half-expected it to be engaged still.

  ‘Oh hi, I didn’t think you’d call so early.’

  She sounded brighter, but Jack thought he might be imagining it. She’d accused him of checking up on her the previous week. He was trying to strike a balance between showing his genuine concern and not making her feel as if she was being watched.

  ‘Who were you chatting to just now?’ Jack asked, immediately thinking better of it. Fortunately, she shrugged it off.

  ‘Oh, nobody. You know, checking in with the estate agent. I was wondering if we’d had any more interest in the house.’

  ‘Everything alright at home?’ Jack queried, sounding as bright as he could. He always braced himself for the answer.

  ‘Everything’s fine, you know how it is,’ Lucy replied.

  Jack could almost see the clenched teeth. She was blocking him. Things must be bad again. He’d try and get home on Wednesday evening, if they’d let him. He would work late to make up the time.

  ‘I could see you were out to lunch, Jack. That bloody wristband tracks you everywhere you go. You should turn it off sometimes.’

  ‘I’ve got nothing to hide,’ he replied. ‘At least you can see I’m not getting up to any mischief.’

  He’d forgotten about Clive. He glanced over to the bench. Clive was now in full conversation with an older man with squared glasses and a trimmed, grey beard. He wore an expensive jacket and looked sure of himself. Jack was no expert on body language, but their exchange seemed tense. Whatever was going on, Clive didn’t have the upper hand.

  ‘You there still?’

  ‘Sorry, sorry, Luce. I was distracted.’

  Then, from nowhere, hostility.

  ‘Don’t let me bother you too much. It wasn’t me who rang, you know. You called me. You might at least have the decency to pay attention while we’re talking.’

  Where had that come from? He’d need to get back home, she was running on a short fuse. He had to stop working away, this was helping nobody.

  Clive’s hands were waving violently at the older man. Voices were raised. Jack tried to pay attention.

  Lucy’s outburst had woken Hamish who was now bellowing from the sitting room.

  ‘Look, Jack. Ring back later, the baby needs me. Call me tonight when things have calmed down a bit, now is not a good time.’

  She ended the call. She usually said goodbye. Not this time.

  Jack felt bad, but couldn’t keep his eyes off Clive and his companion. He texted Lucy quickly, a conciliatory message.

  Love you x Sorry I was distracted. Will call this evening. Jack x

  The man was trying to give something to Clive, but he didn’t seem to want to take it. It was an electronic device, a large phone or a small tablet, something like that. Clive looked scared, not a look Jack was used to seeing from a man usually so boorish and cocky.

  Whatever the older man had said to him, Clive finally acquiesced and placed
the item in his coat pocket. There was no farewell, no shaking of hands. Clive took the device and strode off in the direction of the city centre.

  Jack finished his sandwich but decided to sit sipping his water a little longer to see if he could get a better look at the man. He also wanted to give Clive a chance to get away. He’d have to think of a way of finding out what was going on without letting him know that he’d come into town after all.

  The man sat on the bench. Every now and then he looked up and down the street. He must be waiting for someone.

  There was a vibration on Jack’s phone. It was a text from Lucy.

  I’m sorry too. Hamish was just stirring. All quiet again now. Chat later xxx

  Jack felt immediately better. At least it wouldn’t be awkward when they spoke that evening.

  He looked up. Damn, the man had moved on. Jack jumped up from his seat to see if he could see where he’d gone. He left the shop and looked up and down the street. It was busy, the offices had all spilled out for lunchtime, but he managed to make him out in the crowd heading back into the centre. He had a companion with him, a woman. Jack couldn’t be certain from that distance, but it looked very much like the woman he’d been speaking to in the washroom less than an hour previously.

  4

  Shadows were moving through the darkness, hunters seeking their prey.

  It was the woman who troubled Jack. He’d caught her name – Rosa. She seemed a lot less impulsive than the company that she was keeping. While the men moved ahead, itching for a fight, Rosa appeared to have sensed his presence. She was hovering near his hiding place, blocking him from moving ahead and getting closer to Lucy.

  He wondered if he could overpower her. He’d not got a clear look at her yet, but in the darkness he’d mistaken her for a man. She was tall and muscular, her hair cut short and her face severe. He could tell that much, and he suspected he’d come off worse in any attempt to tackle her. Besides, he had no weapon, and they were heavily armed with knives and guns. He and Lucy didn’t stand a chance.