I Dare You: A gripping thriller that will keep you guessing (A Kate Blakemore Crime Thriller Book 1)

by Murray Bailey

  Michelle shook her head in relief. That would have blown it. Kate would have known she’d lied about the bullet used in Prague.

  She turned and jumped as the Arab came through the door.

  “Was it him?”

  “No, just the British police.”

  He took the phone off her, listened and nodded. About to hand it back, he stopped as the phone pinged with a message. He read it then showed Michelle.

  OMG I can’t believe you are here! Where are you? xx

  “It’s him,” Amir said. He handed the phone back. “Find out where he is.”

  Michelle texted:

  Not far from Red Lodge. Where are you? xx

  The reply was:

  A few hours away. Where exactly? I’ll come to you, baby. Can’t wait to see you xx

  Michelle showed Amir before replying:

  Checked in to a cabin off Bear Creek. There’s a lane through the trees. I’m not sure of the address. Call me when you get to the two mile marker. I’ll let you know the directions then. I love you!

  Michelle said, “He won’t make it tonight, the snow will be too deep.”

  “He’ll come tonight,” Amir said. “But we have some time. Some time to prepare—” He gave Michelle a twitch of a smile. “And some time to have a little fun.”

  Michelle tried to mask the horror she felt. This man made her skin crawl, but she hadn’t anticipated depravity. She clenched her teeth and said, “You’re not doing it.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “You’re not going to hurt her anymore.”

  Amir pulled his gun and jammed it onto Michelle’s forehead. The move was so swift that she hadn’t seen it coming. The force made her take a step back. Amir took a pace as well. Then they walked, Michelle backwards, Amir following, the gun pushing her head. They reached the door. “You will go outside,” he growled, cold menace in his eyes almost willing her to defy him.

  “Don’t do this,” she said. “This was not agreed.”

  He slashed her with the gun. “Just be grateful you don’t have white skin. Now get out, before I change my mind.”

  Michelle twisted away and grabbed her coat hanging beside the door. She stepped out into the cold night and immediately pulled out her phone and dialled a number from memory. It rang for a long time and she climbed into the Honda and turned on the heating. She waited. When the phone was finally answered she said, “We’re at the cabin in Red Lodge.”

  “Is everything all right? You sound different,” the man said, his accent mostly Southern with a throaty grate underneath. He breathed like he was walking. Michelle also heard traffic noise in the background.

  “No. It’s not all right,” she said.

  “What is it? What’s happened?”

  Michelle tried to sound calm, rational. “That man you asked me to work with… We have a problem. He’s a psychopath. I’ve just been threatened—a gun to my head—and God only knows what else he was thinking. He’s got the girl right now. I think he’s torturing her.”

  The man’s voice remained impassive. “Does she know anything?”

  “No, sir.”

  “How sure are you?”

  “One hundred and ten per cent.”

  There was a long pause filled with crackles and the sound of distant traffic. “Have you located Mirrorman?”

  “She left a message for him. Mirrorman’s made contact.”

  “Good. So there’s nothing more she can offer.”

  “She’s a hostage.” Michelle heard a touch of desperation in her own voice.

  “Then make sure our Arab friend doesn’t kill her.”

  “But—”

  “This is war, soldier. Get over it and do your job.” He paused then: “Are you good?”

  She swallowed. “I’m good, sir.”

  The call ended. Michelle put the phone away and sat hunched in the driver’s seat. She realized her hands were clenched in front of her, half in prayer, half ready to fight. She used the wipers to clear the screen then sat and stared at the flakes swirling in the porch light.

  Amir slowly cut away parts of Kate’s clothes. He had all night and he was going to enjoy the exquisite anticipation. As he cut, the knife ran along the girl’s flesh causing it to prickle with goose bumps. He smiled. She’s excited!

  He removed the shirt and bra first then took the jeans away, working up from the bottom. When she had nothing on except for her panties, he stopped and admired her body. Not as fit as the Latino but that was better. Not too hard, not too soft—just as he’d thought. She had small circular scars on her stomach and a few on her chest. Chicken pox, probably from when she was young. He touched each one, delighting at her body’s twitching response. The cluster close to her panty line made her arch as he stroked them.

  “Easy,” he said almost lovingly. “I won’t hurt.” A few of the scars on her legs caught his attention and he touched them, the final one on the inside thigh close to her pubic mound. He let his hand lightly touch the bulge and then continued and dragged the hand up to the side of her neck.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you before. I didn’t want to touch you like that, but you lied to me.” His face was next to her ear now. He whispered, “You do understand.”

  SIXTY-SEVEN

  Thirteen months earlier

  Joe said, “I’ve had to tell Kate.”

  “Shit, Sc…! What have you told her?” Hurwitz choked. With the shock, he’d almost said Joe’s real name.

  They sat on a bench in the dark in Windsor Great Park, the orange glow of Windsor three miles beyond the trees.

  “Joe, what did you say?”

  “Don’t worry. Nothing specific.”

  “What exactly?”

  Joe shrugged, ignored the question. “Who’s that guy you trust in Crypto?”

  “What’s he got to do with—?”

  “I need his private email.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want to say—don’t want to put you in an awkward position, but when the time comes, I want Kate to know the truth.”

  Hurwitz said nothing for a while and eventually shrugged. “So the extraction will be in about two weeks. The British National Crime Agency will arrest you—”

  “Where?”

  “The plan is to visit late at night.”

  “At Kate’s apartment? Not going to happen.” Before Hurwitz could argue, Joe continued: “And using the Brits won’t work. Kate will want to know what’s happened. She’ll follow up.”

  “They’ve thought of that. They’ve created information about you—a backstory that’ll convince her not to.”

  “She will and she’ll still be the connection. When our guy comes after her—”

  “It’s the Saudis.”

  “What is?”

  “The Saudis are the ones that picked up the information about Prague.”

  “Shit! So we don’t even know if this is going to trap our guy!”

  “W seems pretty confident.”

  Joe watched the dark shape of a couple of deer move out of the treeline. An owl called out. Joe groaned. “It’s not going to work.”

  “It’ll work.”

  “Kate will be at risk. She’ll still be the connection.”

  “Stephanie will be the connection. Peter will lead to Stephanie, not Kate.”

  Joe shook his head. “This is shit. I’m out unless they come up with a better plan… one that doesn’t involve the British police. When Kate investigates—and she will—the British police have to know nothing.”

  When they parted, Hurwitz agreed to persuade Woodall. Neither of them liked the Agency man, but he wanted Joe in the States. He’d find a way of covering the bases.

  Two weeks and Joe had a lot to prepare. He needed a location so he could put the code on the photo and he needed a program for his Trust Me letter for Kate. Opening it with the passphrase I dare you wasn’t enough. It should only be accessible at a specific time: 1401. Hurwitz’s guy would be able to do that.

/>   SIXTY-EIGHT

  Present day

  Michelle opened the cabin door and fought back the bile that rushed into her mouth. The Arab was naked and on the table with Kate. A memory of Afghanistan flashed into her mind causing her eyes to burn with tears and anger to flare in her chest. There was no doubt now, no hesitation. She took three paces forward, raised her gun and blasted a hole in the back of the man’s head.

  Kate screamed something guttural, animal—a sound that Michelle recognized from a thousand years ago, another world away. A sound she herself had made.

  Michelle found a box cutter knife in the Arab’s discarded trousers. She cut Kate’s bonds and then dropped the knife as Kate grabbed her and clung on. Michelle put her arms under Kate and held her shaking body. After a long time, she eased Kate into a sitting position, still holding her, afraid that the British girl would collapse without support.

  Kate’s voice was coarse with strain and distress. “Thank… you.”

  Michelle eased her grip. “Let me get a blanket for you.”

  Kate let go and looked up searchingly into Michelle’s eyes.

  Michelle pulled away. When she returned, Kate sat gripping the edge of the stone table, her hands turning white with the effort. Then Kate started to shake her head slightly, repetitively.

  In her hands, Michelle had a dusty-pink quilt which she wrapped around the other woman.

  Kate pulled it tight and then tucked her knees up, hugging herself under the quilt. Her eyes searched Michelle’s, full of confusion. “Why?” she finally croaked. “Why did you do it, Chelle? Why?”

  Michelle stepped back slightly. “I’m sorry, Kate. It was my job… It still is my job.”

  “I don’t understand. What is your job? Aren’t you really FBI?”

  Michelle did a subtle version of her head wobble. “Oh, I’m FBI all right. I just answer to a higher boss. My job was to lead the Arab to your boyfriend. But I didn’t sign up to rape—and God knows what else.”

  “You saved me,” Kate said. “That man murdered people I know—my friends. He would have killed me too.” They both looked down at the naked body, crumpled face down, the back of his head a matted mess of hair, blood and brains.

  Michelle put her arm around Kate and eased her forward. “Come on. Go and have a shower. Get the blood off you. Get his stink off you and get dressed. I’ll clean up here and make some tea. Take as long as you need.”

  Kate’s legs almost buckled beneath her but she found her balance and strength to stand. Hugging the quilt, she slowly walked to a bathroom pointed out by Michelle. Inside, she locked the door and turned on the shower, hot and powerful. She climbed under the scalding jet of water still wearing the quilt. The water pounded her head. She heard the roar echo through her skull but felt nothing. Then the strength evaporated and she sank to the base, resuming a foetal position, hugging her knees. Now she was aware of the cascading water burning her head and shoulders but she could do nothing about it. She just let it scald. She let it cleanse her body and mind of the horrors.

  Although the whole ordeal had lasted no more than an hour, to Kate it had lasted an eternity. At that moment she knew the memory would scar her forever.

  Gradually her strength and resolve returned. The quilt was a heavy, sodden mess and she pushed it aside. She stood, and using shower gel and a sisal mitt began to scour her skin, rubbing it raw. Finally, each drop of water began to sting and she felt as though the skin violated by the Arab had gone.

  She stepped out, dried and dressed. She forced her mind to think of Joe. He was so close. Surely she would be in his arms soon and everything would be all right. Taking her time, she dried her hair and let it hang loose, as he liked it. She applied a small amount of make-up and, when she looked at herself and thought of him, she felt like a woman once more.

  There was no sign of the dead man when Kate returned to the room of her torture. Michelle had cleaned away the blood and disposed of the body.

  “Outside—at the back,” Michelle said, reading Kate’s expression. “How are you?”

  Kate studied the special agent. “Confused… You were working with that… monster, weren’t you?”

  Michelle looked away as though the truth was difficult to admit. “Yes. Well, I was told to work with him. I had no idea he was going to do that to you. I’m so sorry. Please believe me.”

  Kate said nothing.

  Michelle moved from the kitchenette and handed Kate a mug of tea. “It’s very sweet. I know you don’t take sugar but it will help.” She sat with a mug of something in her own hands. “I don’t know everything, Kate, but the Arab has been following you for some time. You weren’t really in danger from him because he wanted your boyfriend—wanted you to find Joe. But you needed help and that’s where I came in.”

  “I should have guessed. You made a mistake, didn’t you? You told me you’d never been to Red Lodge, but when we got here you said you’d been here with a boyfriend.”

  Michelle shrugged.

  Kate said, “So when you saved me by the lake. What? That was set up—the Arab knew you were there.”

  “Kind of. He didn’t want my help, but I knew he had seen you in Washington. I spotted the car too, and followed. If I hadn’t found you, then I suspect he would have brought you here without me. Maybe he could have worked out how to contact Joe, but the plan was for me to gain your trust.”

  “I liked you!”

  Michelle shrugged again. “I’m sorry.”

  “What changed?”

  “Like I said before, I didn’t sign up to rape.”

  “Matt—the man at the lake house was killed, wasn’t he?”

  “I guess.”

  “So then what?”

  “That was different.”

  Kate shook her head. “All right. What was the plan once Joe got here?”

  “The Arab wanted information. My boss wanted information.”

  Again Kate shook her head—too many questions still unasked and unanswered. “And then what? What would have happened to us?”

  “I don’t know. It wasn’t up to me. It wasn’t my concern.”

  “For God’s sake. You must have realized he would have killed us. We couldn’t live with what we know. You might have been a soldier once, but not now…” Kate saw a deep sadness in Michelle’s eyes and, in that moment, knew why she’d done it, why she’d killed the Arab. She said, “You were attacked in the army, weren’t you?—You were raped.”

  “A long time ago—another world.” Now Michelle shook her head, full of sorrow. “But no matter how long or how far, there are some things that you can never recover from. I suspected it, but when I saw what he was doing, I flipped. I just reacted. I don’t regret it.”

  “So what now? You should let me go.”

  After a long pause Michelle said, “I’m sorry, I can’t do that. You don’t know how powerful this man is. My life would be over if I defied him. He’s on his way here. I called him and said the Arab had attacked me and I shot him in self-defence. He’s coming to talk to Joe himself.”

  “Who is he?”

  Michelle pulled a wan smile and shook her head. “You wouldn’t know. But he’s important and powerful and rich.” She stood and walked over to Kate. “I can’t risk you running off before my boss gets here. I’m in enough trouble already. I’m sorry about this, Kate, but I have to cuff you.”

  SIXTY-NINE

  Kate’s mobile phone rang. Michelle walked into another room and answered it.

  “Joe?”

  “Who is this?” Joe asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

  “I’m Special Agent Ramirez. I’m with Kate.”

  “Then please put her on.”

  “She’s sleeping. She’s exhausted. There has been an Arab after her. He seems to have been responsible for a number of deaths. I gave her some pills to help her sleep. She’s had a tough time this past week or so.”

  “Where’s this Arab now?”

  “He’s dead. I shot him.”


  The line was silent for a while. Then Joe said, “I’m at the two mile marker. Where are you?”

  Michelle gave him the directions.

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can—the roads are pretty bad.” He ended the call.

  Michelle returned to the room with Kate, drew her gun and went over to a window beside the door. She switched off the main light, pulled back the curtain and watched the drive that led up to the trees. She estimated no more than five minutes for Joe to find the snow-covered lane and navigate the track to the lodge.

  Ten minutes passed. She called Joe’s number and held the phone to her ear.

  “Everything all right?” she asked.

  “Missed the turning,” he said. “Shouldn’t be long now.”

  “OK, take it easy.”

  Michelle walked back to Kate and helped her to her feet. She led her into a bedroom and bound the cuffs to the bed so that Kate couldn’t reach the window. “Not a sound, now,” Michelle said. “I don’t want us to get into a shootout.”

  “Your partner would have been happy with a shootout. I’m damn sure he didn’t want us alive.”

  “The Arab had his own agenda. I just need Joe to talk to my boss.”

  “And you promise you’re not here to kill him.”

  Michelle gave a Girl Guide’s salute. “Promise.”

  Kate nodded. “I’m trusting you, Chelle. Don’t let me down again. Remember what I’ve been through—what we’ve both been through.”

  “It’ll be all right,” Michelle said but, rather than return to the window, she stood thinking. When she did move it was to go into the kitchenette. A minute later she returned with a gag for Kate’s mouth.

  Kate struggled, alarm in her eyes.

  “I can’t risk it. I’m sorry.” As Michelle said it, she realized just how often she’d apologized to this poor girl. She tried to smile reassuringly before leaving, turning off the light as she went. She stood at the window by the door and watched the track.