Josh — Davey Andrews — was all up against Marcus, in his friend’s face, outside the pub, now looking less like an artist on the rise than someone who fit into this rough part of town.
“What the hell you doing here?” Josh turned from his bark at Marcus to Jack. “And who the bloody hell is this?”
At that moment, it was easy for Jack to see the hot-headed young kid who got mixed up in something that sent him to gaol.
“Josh, this is—”
“Jack Brennan,” Jack said. “And we’re here to help.”
Josh rotated his head like he couldn’t believe this was happening.
“You told him Marcus? You bloody told him?”
But the best man shook his head.
“No, I mean—”
“I found out, Davey—”
The use of Josh’s real name seemed to stop him.
“What happened to you? The ‘time’ you did. Bad rap, as they say.”
Josh’s head bobbed, as if getting all that.
“Right. Good. Now the two of you can piss off back to bloody wherever hell you came from and leave me be.”
“To make things worse?” Jack said.
Josh now trained his eyes on Jack. “And you, why are you involved in this at all, Yank?”
There’s that word again.
“Because someone asked for help. Your fiancé.”
“Did she tell you—”
“No. Just that you were gone and she was worried. My friend and I, we found out why on our own.”
“Yeah. Okay. Then you know I’m here doin’ what I have to be doin’. What any man would do. It’d be wrong to marry her, with that hanging over her head.”
“Let me help,” Jack said.
“Help? You know which bastid did that, found out where I went, my name? Who it is wants to destroy my life?”
Jack had to be honest.
“No. Not yet. But I promise. I can help. You can go on with your life, get married—”
“Promise? Worth nothing. Just … go. There is nothing you can do here. And—”
Josh had backed away, as if whatever he would do in Leeds was pulling him into the dark streets.
Into bad things.
Jack took a step to follow.
And his phone rang.
Could get it later, he thought.
Still.
Could be …
He dug it out.
Sarah.
“Hello? Sarah, Yes, I’m here—”
But as Jack listened, she breathlessly told him what she found out. Josh still hadn’t turned and disappeared into the streets yet as Marcus stood close, pleading with him.
Jack nodded.
He had made a promise.
Now, Jack actually thought he could deliver on that promise.
“Will call you later,” he said.
And phone, away, he walked over to Josh, still arguing with Marcus, fists clenched.
Lost to his idea of tracking down whoever threatened him and doing something bad to them.
Something that would land him in gaol again.
This time for a long time.
Jack went to Josh, touched his shoulder, distracting him from his verbal battle with his good friend Marcus.
“Listen Josh. That call …”
Josh’s eyes were trained on him.
“I was waiting for it. And I can make this … the threats, any chance of someone trying to hurt you … go away.”
“Oh, yeah. Bloody well how?”
“The call. Was information I’ve been waiting on. About who’s been writing to you. I know who it was now. Who did it.”
“Great. Tell me, and I will shut his trap forever.”
Jack shook his head.
“Yeah. And then what? Guy wins. Your life gone. You’re smart. You see that, don’t you?”
For a moment quiet.
“What I am saying … I’ve crossed paths with a lot of bad guys … and a lot of people they wanted to hurt. Never liked that, y’know? Never got used to it.”
Jack paused.
He was about to play the only card he had — and hoped Josh took it.
“I never — in 30 odd years — made a promise I did not keep. Gave my word. As a detective. And to me, well … either I had that or I had nothing.”
“Detective, hmm? And what is your word now? What’s that worth?”
“Won’t tell you who did this. But I can tell you this — go back. To your Lauren. Wedding tomorrow. And I guarantee …”
And now, knowing that Josh would appreciate the physicality of it … the sense that there was more behind Jack than his word …
“You will never have to worry about the ‘bastid’ … ever again.”
Josh said nothing.
Then — “Your word? On your life?”
“I don’t give that easily, Josh. My word. You just head back with Marcus. Big day tomorrow.”
And Jack looked at Marcus.
Type of friend we all need, Jack thought. Been a rough evening for the best man.
Jack just hoped it was about to end.
Jack extended his hand.
“Do we have a deal?”
More waiting.
Either way, Jack thought. This could go either way.
Then unclenching his right fist, Josh extended his hand.
He gave Marcus a smile.
“Whatcha think, Marcus? Think we can trust this guy?”
Marcus took the deepest of breaths. And he grinned back. The first time he had smiled in hours.
“Absolutely, Joshie.”
They shook hands.
“What are you going to do, Jack?” said Marcus.
“You don’t need to know,” said Jack. “Go on — off you go. Back to the car. I’ll make my own way.”
Marcus nodded.
Jack watched as the two friends turned and headed down the hill together towards the centre of Leeds.
Evening almost over.
Almost.
15. A Nightcap
Sarah pulled out of Cherringham station car park and headed up onto the main road.
This time of night there wasn’t much traffic about.
She looked across at Jack.
“You get any sleep on the train?”
“A little. Think we stopped at every station between here and Leeds.”
He had to be exhausted.
He probably would have been dozing off right now in the car, sitting next to her … if he wasn’t letting the possibilities of what was going to happen run through his brain.
Now, close to their destination, she looked over at him.
“You did well, Jack.”
He turned, weary or not, his smile bright in the gloom of her Rav-4. “Me? You found out what we needed to have. Had to have. Other than that, don’t know what Josh would have done.”
“Yeah. But he trusted you …”
His smile broadened. “I do have that trustworthy kinda of face, don’t I?”
Sarah smiled back.
“I got a call from Lauren, by the way.”
“She seen Josh? They back safe?”
“Night before the wedding? No. Talked to him, though. And she’s very grateful. She insisted we both come — as special guests.”
“Well, little does she know — it’s not quite over yet.”
They had reached the driveway entrance to James Proctor’s house.
The future father-in-law had been alerted that they were coming with something important to tell him.
And he hadn’t sounded all that surprised.
After all, why should he?
He had to have expected something like this.
After what he did to Josh.
Sarah slowed on the gravel, its clackety sound a fitting accompaniment to whatever would happen next.
Jack thought it best she take the lead.
Local to local.
She just had to hope he was right.
*
Jame
s Proctor opened the door with Babs just behind him, at his elbow, half-finished glass of wine in her hand.
Bracing herself for the big day tomorrow.
The father of the bride’s face … anything but friendly.
“I hope you have an explanation for this ‘visit’ at this time of night. As you know, we have quite the day tomorrow, and we were just about to retire.”
Any of the warmth from the golf course the other day had vanished.
Sarah had to wonder — did James still think the big day was going to happen?
Despite his best efforts to stop it?
Sarah looked at Jack who stood behind her, silent.
“This won’t take long,” Sarah said. “I just need to explain something to you.”
“Is anything wrong?” Babs slurred.
“No, Babs. Not at all,” Sarah said with a smile. “But—” she looked right at James — hoping he would pick up on what might be happening here.
That perhaps they’d showed up to tell him that the groom-to-be had vanished.
Imagine that!
James turned to his wife. “Babs, why not go get ready for bed? I’ll talk to our friends here. I’ll be right up.”
The smallest of smiles but his tone brooked no defiance, at least not in this house.
And Babs nodded. “Yes. Big day tomorrow,” she said, as if anyone had forgotten.
Then she turned and started for the staircase.
While James slowly opened the door wide, and they walked into the house.
*
No invitation to sit.
Whatever they would say … would be said here, in the hall, with Babs safely — more or less — gone up the stairs and disappeared into her bedroom.
“Now, what the devil is this about? You see you have alarmed my wife.”
Sarah waited. A trick she learned from Jack.
Let things just seep in.
Then, as if the silence was a bit much for him, James asked: “Anything wrong? With the wedding plans?”
Interesting moment, Sarah thought. James maybe expecting that his plan had worked.
That the wedding needed be called off.
Was that what he was thinking, standing there in the hall, his face registering no knowledge of anything?
Sarah nodded. “No, the wedding will go ahead as planned.” Another look at Jack who was doing a stellar job of just letting her ‘run with the ball’.
“Not that someone hasn’t tried damned hard to stop it.”
Did his right eye just twitch? Sarah thought.
“Someone who threatened to expose something unfortunate from Josh Andrew’s past. When he was a teenager in Leeds. Something that could have had him walking away from everything he’s built here.”
“Really?” James said.
The word an equal mix of curiosity … and Sarah thought … concern.
“Yes. A threat to destroy Josh, and his future life with your daughter.”
“My god,” James said, as if scripted.
“Whoever would do such a thing?”
Sarah smiled.
Sometimes — this, even at such a late hour — was too much fun.
“Well, see, here’s how it is — your honour.”
Sarah let the official title linger in the air.
“We know who did that. We know who got into those sealed records. Someone who knew their way all around court procedures. The thing is, such activity leaves a trail.”
Another pause.
Because she knew that James now knew that his goose, as they say, was cooked.
“And that trail leads right here. To you. Your honour.”
*
Sarah waited while James made all the obvious protestations, then threats, like some quarried animal that had no options.
Until, Jack, who must have seen such things many times before, finally took a step closer.
“We know you did it, judge. Sarah here found it. Tracked the thing to your personal computer. But here’s the thing …”
James Proctor looked at Jack as if he was the man with the only life jacket on a sinking ship.
“It doesn’t have to go any further. It can remain exactly like that. We know. You know.” A beat. “No one else.”
“B-but my Lauren, what if—”
Jack put up a hand. “She will never know. Or Josh. I gave my word, you see. A NYPD detective’s word. That Josh would have nothing to worry about on that score ever again.”
Jack took a breath.
“And I’m right, aren’t I?”
James Proctor’s head couldn’t bob fast enough.
If his daughter ever learned what he’d tried to do, Sarah guessed, she’d never speak to him again. Ever.
“Of course. Absolutely.”
Then Jack nodded. The scene — short, to the point. But oh so effective.
Then Sarah said: “Big day tomorrow. It’s going to be a wonderful day for them. We’d better leave you now.”
They turned, and she followed Jack to the front door.
They knew that Josh was back in Cherringham. The plans for the wedding and his life with Lauren back on track.
But after a few steps with James’s eyes locked on them, she stopped.
And turned.
“Oh, James. I have an idea. Something of a surprise you could spring tomorrow.”
She saw Jack look at her.
“Jack, you go on ahead. I’ll see you at the car.”
“Sure,” he said, opening the front door and heading out into the warm night air.
Nice to give even the master a surprise twist he doesn’t see coming.
She turned back to James Proctor.
“I saw something interesting in the Golf Club newsletter … about plans. And it gave me an idea. Of something you could do …”
*
Jack grinned as she joined him, leaving a stunned James, still standing in the doorway.
“Brilliant,” he said. “I mean, really brilliant.”
“Thank you, detective.”
And with that, and with a wedding day ahead.
It’s been a while, Sarah thought.
Nothing like a big old wedding.
She fired up the car and started thinking …
What on earth am I going to wear?
16. A Cherringham Wedding
Sarah sat in the pew of St. James, next to Jack. He was looking good in a dark suit. And given how little time Sarah had to sort her own outfit — she felt comfortable.
By a minor miracle, she’d found a dress she’d worn to a lunch in London last month, hanging in the wardrobe — dry-cleaned and still wrapped.
And — most important of all — she’d never worn it in Cherringham.
She looked around the church.
Ahead of her, in the very front pew, stood Josh in a dark suit, waiting for his bride — and looking nervous.
Standing by his side, Marcus, the best man. And then the empty spaces for the ushers.
She glanced over her shoulder. Apart from Grace and what must be her new boyfriend — the cute guy from the print shop — and a few faces that she recognised as locals from the Ploughman’s, this side of the church — the groom’s side — was empty.
Hardly surprising, given what she now knew about Josh’s background.
Across the aisle, nearly every pew was full.
Of course — the captain of the golf club would have no shortage of friends to invite to his daughter’s wedding.
Babs Proctor sat in the front row, in an extravagant pink hat, all lace and twirls, leaning round chatting excitedly to what looked like sisters in the row behind.
And behind her, all the way to the back of the church, the great and the good of Cherringham.
Sarah turned back to look at the altar. The Reverend Hewitt scurried from side to side, making last-minute arrangements, conferring with his assistants.
The scent of flowers, the sound of the organ meandering through a long Bach piece, all took her
back to her own wedding in this very church all those years ago.
So young and optimistic …
And so wrong about how that marriage would turn out.
She hoped that Lauren and Josh would have better luck.
Just as she thought that, she heard the doors at the rear of the church open, and the organ neatly segued from Bach into Wagner’s Wedding March.
She saw Josh turn and grin, and then everybody in the church also turned to see Lauren — amazing in a traditional long wedding dress — gliding towards the altar, bridesmaids behind her.
At Lauren’s side — her father in full morning suit, upright, eyes ahead.
As they drew level with Jack and Sarah, Lauren turned her head slightly — and Sarah could just see the bride smile and wink at her through the veil. She smiled back.
Meanwhile, Lauren’s father looked straight ahead at the altar, hardly seeming to acknowledge the groom.
Jack leaned across to Sarah and whispered, “This wouldn’t be happening if it wasn’t for you.”
“If it wasn’t for the two of us,” she whispered back.
As Lauren drew close to Josh, there was quiet and the Reverend Hewitt took control.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today,” he said, “to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony …”
*
Jack leaned against one of the big oak trees in the churchyard and watched the crowds mingle happily at the entrance to the church.
The bells rang out, and the sun was shining down on the happy couple, with the limos lined up; everyone he could see was in their finest clothes and on their best behaviour.
Hard to think that just twenty-four hours before, he’d been scouring the pubs and clubs of Leeds looking for a groom hell bent on violence — or worse.
“I hear we have you to thank for finding Josh,” came a voice from behind him.
Jack turned to see Ryan, one of the ushers.
“Kind of a group effort to be honest,” said Jack. “Marcus, me, Sarah …”
“We can’t thank you enough, anyway. Marcus has made us swear never to talk about it — so I can’t imagine what you had to do — or where you had to go.”
“Just glad to see it all end happily ever after.”
“You coming to the reception?”
“Sure.”
“Well, don’t go without letting me buy you a drink, okay? From all of us.”
“I won’t,” said Jack.
He watched Ryan head back into the lively crowd, then saw Sarah slip away from Grace and walk over to him.
Cherringham--A Bad Lie Page 8