Breaking Dead: A stylish, edge-of-your-seat crime thriller (The Sophie Kent series)

by Corrie Jackson

  ‘Are you OK?’

  I pulled out my phone, wondering where to start. ‘I found John Bairstow.’

  Cat slid forward in her seat. ‘You’re kidding.’

  ‘Nathan Scott.’

  Cat’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘The photographer?’

  ‘His middle name is Scott. Jonathan Scott Bairstow. Nathan Scott. Turns out he’s working with Amos.’

  ‘Has Nathan been arrested too?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ A car cut in front of us and the driver swore under his breath.

  Cat’s phone rang and she glanced at the screen. ‘Damn it, I have to take this. Give me a sec.’

  As Cat talked briskly into the phone, I tried to order my thoughts. Something I’d seen in Cat’s house was bugging me. The shelf. The photograph of her and Lydia. I screwed my eyes shut, trying to think. That photograph had been in the background of the Skype call I’d witnessed at Cat’s office. The call she’d made from home. The corner of the frame was chipped. But the picture I’d seen just now on Cat’s shelf was as good as new. I rooted around for my phone and pulled up the photographs of Lydia’s sitting room. I zoomed in on the picture of her shelves. The frame was chipped.

  I scrolled through the photographs of Lydia’s sitting room. Grey walls, white shelves, cream sofas. Cat and Lydia both lived in Victorian terraced houses. Lydia’s sitting room could almost pass for Cat’s. Except for the picture frame.

  Thoughts crashed around my head. That Skype call was Cat’s alibi. Why would she lie about her alibi?

  I looked at Cat and the longer I stared, the more her face seemed to shift and blur before my eyes, like when you say a word over and over and it loses its meaning.

  The car turned left as Cat barked an order down the phone. ‘Well, they can fuck off. I’m not talking about Lydia to the press.’ Her eyes flicked in my direction as she hung up. ‘Sorry, Isobel is fielding calls from reporters.’

  ‘Cat, that picture of you and –’

  ‘The questions they’re asking. It’s disgusting. They’re not interested in solving the mystery, they want to shift papers.’ She gave me a cool look. ‘You’re all the same. You never know when to leave well alone. Nosy, prying, intrusive. You want to know how I feel? How’s this: the last time I saw those girls is etched in my mind forever. Lydia slumped on her bed in that blue camisole. Poor Natalia propping up the bar, misery running down her cheeks. It’s as if –’

  It was a second before I realised what Cat had said.

  ‘What did you say Lydia was wearing?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘You said Lydia was wearing a blue camisole.’

  Cat heard the edge in my voice and frowned. ‘So?’

  ‘So, Lydia wasn’t wearing that camisole until after she was killed.’

  Cat waved a dismissive hand. ‘Then I read that somewhere.’

  My phone went heavy in my hand. ‘I’m the only reporter who knows that detail and I haven’t used it.’

  We hit a traffic jam and the car juddered to a halt. ‘Well, you must have told me then. Where else would I have got it from?’ All the same, her expression sharpened.

  The driver turned to pass something to Cat and the headlights from an oncoming car lit up his profile.

  The shock knocked all the wind out of me. Nathan Scott.

  The realisation, when it came, was tidy and final, as if it were wrapped in paper and tied with string.

  I turned towards Cat, my voice wisp-thin. ‘You . . . and Nathan?’ I gripped the seat. ‘You’re the accomplice?’

  Cat plucked the phone from my hand and switched it off. In her other hand, she held a syringe.

  My mouth went dry. ‘What’s that for?’

  Cat ignored me, a smile on her lips. Then she glanced at Nathan, waiting for his order. For a moment nobody moved.

  Nathan leaned forward and turned on the radio. Opera music flooded the car, soft at first, then louder as Nathan cranked up the volume. Loud enough to drown out my screams.

  I hurled myself against the door just as Cat clamped a large hand round my arm. She yanked me downwards so I was sprawled across the back seat, out of sight of the other cars. Her ragged breath was hot on my face. Behind her head the car window swam in front of my eyes.

  ‘Cat, please –’

  ‘Lie still, Sophie.’ Cat’s voice was soft, almost tender. ‘It won’t be long now.’

  A sharp sting in my arm. Cat’s face split in two in front of my eyes. I opened my mouth to speak but the words wouldn’t come. My body sank into the leather, heavy as a corpse.

  I closed my eyes, and the silvery swell of music sang me to sleep.

  33

  The air smelled damp, dark, like a well. I licked my dust-dry lips, forcing down panic. Slowly, my surroundings sharpened in the flickering candlelight. The brick wall next to the bed was aflame with purple graffiti. An icy draught screeched through the gaps in the corrugated roof. A faint lapping of water outside. Where am I?

  I tried to sit up. A clink of metal. Handcuffs.

  Footsteps approached. I blinked, my body twitching with fear. Nathan was bent over a table. He’d removed his jacket and his sleeves were rolled up to reveal thick, beetle-brown forearms. I cleared my throat to let him know I was awake. I wanted him to make the first move.

  Nathan’s head snapped round, then he slithered towards me, stopping just short of the bed.

  ‘How long have I been out?’ I asked, when I couldn’t take the silence any more.

  ‘Long enough.’ He looked me up and down and his mouth hooked into an ugly smile. ‘You have the same hopeful look in your eyes that Natalia and Lydia had at the end. It’s such a turn-on.’

  I tried to keep my voice steady. ‘People know where I am.’

  ‘No.’ Nathan cocked his head to one side. ‘They don’t.’

  ‘Where’s Cat?’

  At the mention of her name, Nathan sprang up and returned to the table. I couldn’t see what he was doing but a metallic scrape sliced through the air. The sound made my stomach clench.

  I forced myself to look round. ‘Is this where you brought the Juliets?’

  ‘Sometimes.’

  Clink, scrape.

  ‘Amos has been arrested. He’s telling the police everything.’

  ‘I’m not worried about Amos.’

  Clink, scrape.

  Nathan stretched his arms above his head. ‘It still fascinates me, how easy it is to keep someone quiet. It’s just a matter of learning which buttons to push. Fear, shame, regret. Pick the right one, and you’re rewarded with unquestioning loyalty.’

  Did Nathan mean Amos? Or Natalia, or Lydia, or Cat?

  ‘Ariel Butters wasn’t loyal.’

  Nathan’s arms dropped to his side. ‘I learned from that mistake. I learned the art of control.’

  Clink, scrape.

  ‘What are you doing over there?’ I heard the tremor in my voice and jammed my jaw shut. My brain felt as if it was made of sandpaper. Had Cat and Nathan been working together this whole time? Since . . .

  ‘Tell me about Amanda.’

  The scraping stopped and Nathan turned round. The candlelight cast mean shadows across his face.

  ‘She was a slut.’ He laughed. ‘A slutty slutty slut-slut. All curves and dimples, with skin you could eat. The kind of girl who wouldn’t look twice at a man like me. Unless she was forced,’ he added. ‘Her eyes . . . like drops of ink. Her mum has the same eyes, don’t you think?’ Nathan smiled, baring large, whitened teeth. ‘She vanished after Amanda died. But I always knew I’d find her. Seeing her face again, after all those years, I –’

  A loud bang vibrated through the darkness beyond the circle of candlelight. I craned my neck to see. ‘Cat?’ I turned to Nathan. ‘Where is she?’ A blast of wind ripped through a crack in the window near me, sending a shiver across my body. ‘Does Cat know what you did to her daughter? Or did you leave that part out when you brainwashed her?’

  Nathan stalked towards
me, a menacing look on his face. Suddenly his hand was on my neck, squeezing, choking, forcing hot tears down my face.

  Just as suddenly, he let go. My breath thundered in my ears. I gulped down air, forcing myself to stay calm. His hand moved to my chest, my stomach, hovered over my belt. Then he pulled cable wire out of his pocket and strode to the end of the bed. As he strapped my ankles to the metal frame, his finger slid up my leg.

  ‘Such exquisite bones. So delicate. Reminds me of Natalia. Her bones snapped like twigs.’ He clicked his fingers.

  I had to keep Nathan talking. All the time he was talking, I was alive. And if I was alive, there was a chance.

  ‘Why Natalia?’

  Nathan seemed surprised at the question. ‘She looked like Amanda. And all roads lead back to little Miss Barnes.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Nathan ignored the question. ‘It should have happened here. Natalia. But she opened her slut-mouth and ruined everything. We had to improvise.’

  ‘And Lydia?’

  Nathan’s eyes narrowed. ‘Sealed her own fate. She figured out that Cat’s alibi was a lie. Decided to make it public. Her own fault, dumb bitch.’

  The lyrics from Lydia’s Twitter video. She’ll cut you with her smile, then laugh as you bleed.

  Lydia was singing about Cat.

  Cat.

  Cat.

  The name ricocheted through my brain, refusing to settle. How could Cat, of all people, be involved in murder? It didn’t make sense. I thought of the life she’d been forced to endure. Years of abuse, a psychopathic husband, a daughter murdered in front of her. Could anyone go through what she had and come out unscathed? Her past had rotted away her soul. The real mystery was how she’d been able to hide it from the world.

  Nathan coughed loudly, making me jump. I turned in time to see him pick something up. A glimpse of metal. A small knife, the blade slightly hooked at the end.

  An ice-cold hand swept up my back. ‘What are you going to do with that?’

  Nathan gave me a thin smile, before slinking away into the darkness. Where did he go? My heart stuck in my throat. The air shifted and Cat materialised, her large frame looming over me, her face marble-like, sculpted and stretched, shut tight against a world she felt had betrayed her.

  ‘Please, Cat.’ My voice was low and urgent. ‘You don’t need to do this. I know you’ve suffered. No one would blame you for the choices you’ve made. Not after everything you’ve been through. But men like Michael and Nathan, they’re psychopaths. Manipulating people is what they do.’ I glanced behind her at the blank space where Nathan had been. ‘He’s doing it right now. Whatever Nathan has got you into, there is a way out, there is a choice.’

  Cat watched me for a moment.

  ‘Are you thirsty?’

  She held a plastic cup to my lips. The water was filthy and grit slid down my throat, but I gulped it gratefully.

  ‘Ready?’ Nathan sidled towards us, running a thumb up and down the blade in his hand.

  ‘Please.’ My voice cracked.

  Nathan stopped behind Cat and stroked a hand down her back. Was it me, or did she flinch?

  My breath came in shallow puffs and I grasped the bed until my fingers hurt.

  Cat held my gaze for a long moment. Then she sank back against Nathan, a look of ecstasy on her face.

  ‘Patience, my love. What have I told you about savouring the moment. You’re going to spoil things.’

  I stared at her. Cat’s voice was clear, crisp, loud. She didn’t sound like a woman who was being manipulated.

  She sounded like a woman in charge.

  Cat bent down and began unbuttoning my shirt with large, dry fingers. The material fell away and the air felt cold against my stomach.

  ‘Your skin is quivering like pink jelly, Sophie. You’re so beautiful. But you already know that, don’t you?’ Cat ran a nail down my ribs, her eyes glittering in the candlelight. ‘When I was a little girl, my daddy liked to fuck me. He told me ugly girls got what they deserved.’ Her face stretched into a tight smile. ‘Well, my husband thought I was beautiful.’

  ‘Your husband abused you.’ The words were out before I could stop them.

  Cat’s face darkened. ‘A lot of the time it was consensual. And when it wasn’t,’ she shrugged, ‘it was worth it. Michael lit up my world. He filled a void I didn’t know I had. I grew up wrong, you see. I had urges; a viciousness inside me. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.’

  Cat closed her eyes, fingered her necklace. ‘I never dared act on it. But Michael unlocked a part of me that –’ She stopped, breathless. ‘I’d have done anything for him.’

  The air pressed down on me. I couldn’t breathe. ‘Amanda.’

  Cat smiled. ‘The truly surprising thing was how much I enjoyed it. The power. The rush. Seeing the pleasure on Michael’s face. Pleasing him became addictive. But, after a while, Amanda wasn’t enough for him.’ Cat gazed up at Nathan. The air between them was charged, electric.

  ‘At first we experimented. Invited others into the circle. That’s how I met Nathan, or John as he was back then.’ Cat smiled. ‘He was extraordinary. Could hold the room in the palm of his hand. Amanda felt it. She always behaved when Nathan was there.’

  I pictured the crime-scene photographs of Farrow’s shed. The filthy mattress, the restraints, the torture kit.

  Bile slid up the back of my throat. ‘So you turned a blind eye while men sexually abused your innocent daughter?’

  ‘A blind eye?’ Cat gave a shrill laugh, a knife against stone. ‘I watched every moment. That bitch burned so brightly, there was no room left for anyone else. Well, I made room. Why shouldn’t she suffer what I suffered. She was no more special than me.’ Cat shifted her weight and I rolled closer towards her. The nearness made my stomach heave.

  ‘The more we shared Amanda, the less she pleased me. She lost her allure, her innocence. We needed someone new to play with. But Amanda was a problem. A loose end. Even so, Michael took some convincing. As it turned out, he didn’t have the stomach for murder.’

  ‘So, that night . . . in the woods . . .’ The words died in my mouth. I closed my eyes. ‘Michael didn’t kill Amanda.’

  Cat smoothed her hair; her ice-blue gaze cut through me. ‘I still feel her pink flesh under my fingers. Hear the throaty rasp as her breath left her body. It was the purest moment of my life.’

  I stared at Cat in horror. ‘But Michael –’

  ‘Lost Amanda, and in the end that proved too much for him. Still,’ Cat cocked her head to one side, a smile playing at her lips, ‘he never betrayed me. The police were so enamoured with Michael as the killer that they never looked any further. No one suspected the grieving mum, especially one covered in bruises.’

  Cat stood up and pulled her jumper over her head. Her butter-yellow blouse was damp under the arms.

  ‘I knew how lucky I was to get away with it. Nathan and the others disappeared into the ether, and I got on with my life. But the urges, they – I tried everything. I cut myself. I self-medicated. I took the edge off at sado-masochistic clubs. My job at the model agency was another way of torturing myself. I wanted to tell every beautiful bitch who ran a pitying eye over me that I’d crushed a neck like hers between my large, ugly hands. I spent two decades chasing the high. But when you’ve tasted a pleasure that pure, nothing else comes close.’

  Cat twisted her silver ring, then caught me staring and stopped. ‘I wanted to hurt someone so badly. It made me want to climb out of my own skin. But I never dared. I didn’t want to do it alone.’ Cat’s breath quickened and she glanced at Nathan. ‘What we shared, it binds you for life. All these years pretending to be someone I’m not. Finding Nathan set me free. We set each other free. The last year has been the happiest of my life. The Juliets were – I can’t tell you –’ She laughed. ‘But that was just the foreplay.’

  Nathan bent down and kissed Cat’s neck. The air throbbed between them, dark and meaty.

>   ‘We took our time choosing her,’ said Nathan, kneading Cat’s shoulders between thick, nicotine-stained fingers. ‘It was my first time, and Cat wanted it to be perfect.’

  Cat nodded, a faraway look in her eyes. ‘Natalia had it all. She looked so much like Amanda it took my breath away. The same fragile beauty, the same little-girl-lost air about her. It wasn’t supposed to happen at The Rose but, my God, the rush . . .’

  I watched the two of them relive the memory in all its Technicolor glory. I pictured Natalia’s mutilated body, her blood-drenched sheet, and my chest tightened.

  ‘What about the blackthorn?’

  ‘That we did plan,’ said Nathan, laughing. ‘What can I say? I try to be creative.’

  Cat shrugged. ‘And I like violence.’

  I cleared my throat, frowning. ‘But how did you get Natalia to swap rooms?’

  Cat smiled. ‘I couldn’t book her onto the floor with no CCTV cameras because everyone knew I was in charge of her reservation. I knew all about her stalker ex-boyfriend’s calling card.’

  I screwed my face up. ‘The blue flowers?’

  ‘I left a bunch in her room and, voilà, one panicked princess.’ Cat peered up at Nathan through her lashes. ‘You’re not the only one who can be creative.’

  Nathan brushed her cheek. ‘And then there was Lydia.’

  Cat sighed. ‘Always was a stuck-up bitch. I was delighted when she forced my hand. I pretended to Skype a make-up company from my house, but I was at Lydia’s. Nathan was upstairs with her, waiting for me.’ The memory coloured her cheeks.

  ‘So that text Lydia sent to Liam –’

  ‘Was sent by me,’ said Cat. ‘We needed a suspect. Alexei was no longer in the frame, and that prick Crawford has a guilty face.’

  Nathan laughed, a throaty sound that curled up at the end, as excitement took hold of him.

  He put a hand on Cat’s shoulder. ‘It’s time, baby.’

  Cat stood up, her eyes glittering in the candlelight. ‘We’re going to have some fun.’