He pulled onto the interstate and headed for Houston. He wanted to see Don’s face when he told him Jack had vanished.
Chapter Eighteen
Jack stared at the double doors of the storage shed. He hadn’t been inside there for a long time. He didn’t particularly want to go in now, but he needed to check for wood and see if the roof was leaking. He unfastened the padlock and flung open the doors. Tommy followed him in.
It looked the same as it had when he was a boy—dirty, fucking spooky, full of cobwebs. The kid clutched his leg and Jack laughed. So it wasn’t just him. Jack’s gaze slid to the corner where he’d hid after his father had locked him in. Bastard.
“You said there were toys,” Tommy whispered.
Old snow shoes hung on the wall. The wood rack was still in place, empty except for a broken rake. His toboggan stood in the corner. Jack fingered the weathered edges of the wood and brushed dust from the plastic seat. His mother once pulled him all the way around the frozen lake on that and complained the whole fucking time.
“Toys?” Tommy repeated.
“There should be,” Jack muttered.
Lifting the lid on the nearest storage bin, he found his father’s fishing gear, either forgotten when the place was cleared or deliberately abandoned. Probably the latter. The next held a jumble of toys. He heard the intake of breath as Tommy saw them. Jack picked up an action figure and pulled the string at the back. There was a whirring noise but the voice had long gone.
“For me?” Tommy asked.
“All for you.”
***
Kate dreamed of waking up in a different world, but opened her eyes to the same one, although she was alone in bed. She felt as tired as if she hadn’t slept.
Three times in the night she’d had to go down to Tommy. She’d woken Jack to get him to uncuff her.
She’d let him do what he wanted last night and now she felt guilty. Kate twisted the ring on her finger, leaving it in place was another act of cooperation.
As far as she was concerned, they weren’t married. He’d tricked her and drugged her. She curled up in the bed, and gasped as a sharp pain shot through her back.
Her fear made him stronger, but she couldn’t help it. He might not want her dead, but he didn’t care if he hurt her.
The closet door was open, her clothes hung next to his. He’d planned everything so carefully, but she still didn’t understand why. To create a happier version of his childhood? But if his mother had been killed here, how could he even want to be in the house? She heard Tommy laughing downstairs. He was her priority now. The police would be looking for him. Maybe someone saw Jack take him. She had to be patient.
Kate got out of bed, washed, dressed in jeans and a blue sweater, and went down.
“Here’s Mommy,” Jack said.
“Where?” Tommy turned and swung his arm into a glass of chocolate milk, sending brown liquid flying across the table.
Jack reached to grab the glass as Kate snatched a cloth and rushed to Tommy’s side.
“You clumsy little—” Jack raised his hand and Kate stepped between them.
“It’s okay. No harm done.” She mopped up the liquid. “Accidents happen.
Didn’t you ever knock anything over when you were a boy?” Tommy’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. He stared at his bowl of cereal.
“Sorry, lady.”
“Call her Mommy!”
“Sorry, Mommy. I didn’t mean to.”
Kate smiled at him. “It was an accident. Don’t worry.”
“Daddy got me toys.”
Kate looked at the dusty pile on the floor. “Great.”
“Am I a good daddy?” Jack asked.
Kate held her breath.
“Very good,” Tommy said.
Jack calmed down. He sat on the floor with Tommy and played with him, helping him to fit the soldier in the Jeep and clamp the little plastic hands around the wheel.
With the dust and cobwebs gone, a fire blazing brightly in the hearth and the sound of a child’s laughter, the house was unrecognizable from the day before. It brought Kate no comfort at all.
She kept an eye on them as they played, knowing Jack could change in an instant. She couldn’t trust him with Tommy. When the two of them began to wrestle, her heart sped up, but Jack let Tommy pin him down, then lifted him into the air and flew him round the room, zooming him up and down while Tommy shrieked with joy. However wrong this situation, for the moment Tommy was happy. Kate thought he’d miss his parents more, ask about home, but he seemed to accept this was how he lived now.
Tommy fell asleep as he ate lunch, and Jack carried him to his bedroom. Kate stood at the sink and steeled herself not to react as Jack put his hands around her waist.
“I want a girl next,” he whispered in her ear, “and then another boy.” Kate continued to rub the plate and hid the chill that swept through her.
“What do you think Tommy would like for Christmas?” he asked.
“A TV.”
He kept looking for the TV even though Jack had told him they didn’t have one.
“Apart from that.”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe a DVD player.” Jack laughed. He pressed his face into her back and Kate recoiled. Jack stiffened.
“My back hurts.”
“Don’t do anything to deserve the other letters then. While Tommy’s asleep, come and help me collect wood.”
Kate dried her hands, put on her jacket and followed him outside. When she stepped into the yard, she saw Jack swinging an axe, skimming the top of the grass with the blade and the breath caught in her throat.
“Think you could handle an axe, Kate?”
She thought about it, thought about chopping into his body, tried to picture herself killing him. He’d have the axe out of her hand before she’d taken a swing.
Kate looked at the woods and wanted to run—take off like a deer and fly though the trees. Not without Tommy.
She stacked wood while Jack swung the axe, until Tommy finally appeared at the door, rubbing his eyes.
“Hey, sleepy head,” Jack called. “Want to go see the lake?” Kate dressed Tommy in another of her sweaters, rolling up the sleeves, though it was still way too big. Jack carried him on his shoulders, pretending to be a horse. When they reached the edge of the lake, he put him down. The surface of the water was like glass, glittering in the late afternoon sun. On the left was a dilapidated wooden dock and attached to it a boathouse stretching over the water. On the opposite shore, two houses sat about fifty yards apart.
“Summer homes, Kate,” Jack said.
They looked closed up, no telltale smoke. They were also a long way away.
“What’s that?” Tommy asked, tugging at Kate’s arm.
“A boathouse,” Jack said.
“Boat?” Tommy jumped up and down. “Can we see?”
“Another day.”
Tommy took Kate’s hand and pulled her to the edge of the lake. Jack picked up a flat stone and made it hop over the water.
Tommy turned to him, eyes wide. “Do it again.” Jack picked up a few flat stones and made them skip every time. He tried to show Tommy how to do it, but he kept throwing them straight in. More than once, the stone flew behind him almost hitting Kate. Jack sent him on a hunt for flat stones along the shoreline, and pulled Kate to sit on a rock when she tried to follow. The sun went behind a cloud and the lake turned dark and menacing. Kate shivered.
“Don’t go near the water, Tommy,” she called.
“Okay.”
“Is it deep?” she asked.
“Not very. It freezes over in the winter. I fell through the ice once, nearly drowned.”
And if you had, none of this would be happening.
“My brother and I were messing around, hanging onto the dock and trying to break the ice with our heels. I thought it could take my weight and I ran onto it. A frozen lake makes noises—you know that? It groans, gurgles, chatters and sometime
s gives long, deep moans. Like it’s being fucked. Only I was the one who nearly got fucked. There was a noise like a gunshot and a crack opened up under my feet.”
Kate took her eyes off Tommy and looked at Jack.
“Suddenly I was sinking and struggling. I remember not being sure which way was up until my clothes started to pull me down. I kicked out, but it was like being in molasses. I held my breath until my lungs ached and somehow got to the surface, only I was still under the damned ice. By then, lights flashed in front of my eyes. Just when I thought I’d have to open my mouth, I found the hole I’d made and came up like a cork.”
Pity.
Jack slung his arm over her shoulder. “Wishing I’d drowned, Kate?”
“Course not.”
“I don’t remember being scared, just cold. And I couldn’t get out of the water.
The ice broke when I tried to lever myself up. In the end, I knew I only had enough energy for one last attempt. I thrashed, kicked and fought my way on top and slithered on my stomach back to the shore.”
“What was your brother doing?” Kate asked.
“Laughing.”
Tommy ran back with an armful of stones. “Let’s play again.” Jack stood. “You count the number of times they skip.”
“Try and get one to go to the other side,” Tommy yelled.
“That’s too far. It’s impossible,” Kate said.
Jack grinned at her. “Nothing’s impossible.”
***
When they got back to the house, Jack brought in more wood for the stove and dumped it on the floor. Kate made a hot drink, her gaze fixed on the pile of logs at her feet. She jumped when the door slammed and caught the sound of the car keys hitting the counter. Jack knelt in front of the stove and pushed a child’s Tshirt into the flames. Tommy sat playing with the action man.
Kate bent. Her fingers curled around a chunk of wood. She didn’t think, just lurched up and smacked the log on Jack’s head. He cried out but didn’t drop to the floor. Instead, he turned and looked at her, the expression on his face a cross between surprise and fury. Kate hit him again. This time he went down and stayed down. Her hands were shaking, her breath coming in short gasps. Jack moaned and she raised the wood. Then Tommy screamed and she froze. He stood staring at her, his mouth wide open, shrieking as if she’d hit him.
“Tommy, it’s okay.” Kate held out her hand but he didn’t move.
She looked again at Jack, horrorstruck at what she’d done. Blood on the floor.
Blood on the wood. Blood on his face. The log fell from her fingers. She dry heaved, and then he moaned and Kate took a deep breath. He wasn’t dead. She had to pull herself together. She grabbed the car keys and held her hand out to Tommy. He backed away.
“Please, Tommy. We have to be quick. I want to take you back to your mommy and daddy.”
He didn’t move, just stared between her and Jack.
“Tommy, listen. Jack is a bad man. He wouldn’t let us go. I had to hit him. We need to go now and we have to be really fast.” She breathed a sigh of relief when he came to her. Kate picked him up and ran, her heart slamming around in her chest like a ricocheting bullet. She fastened Tommy into his seat and got in the driver’s side, locking the doors. A glance in the mirror revealed no sign of Jack and she felt the beginnings of relief. Kate turned the key.
A click and then nothing.
She tried again and heard the same sound. Kate tried not to panic, but she’d never seen Jack do anything other than put the key in the ignition and turn it.
She turned the key once more. Still nothing.
Fear swamped her, making her lightheaded and dry mouthed. Kate banged her hand on the wheel, wanting to scream in frustration but she was only too aware of Tommy, sitting behind her.
Kate looked in the mirror and saw Jack standing in the doorway of the house.
The decision over whether to make a run for it evaporated like morning mist. She swallowed the wail of fear rising in her throat and turned the key again.
“Please, please,” she repeated in desperation. It was no use. He must have disconnected the battery or unfastened some wires. It didn’t matter. Kate knew nothing about cars, had no hope of fixing what was wrong. She turned and made herself smile at Tommy. “I’m sorry, I can’t take you home today. The car won’t start. I will take you one day, I promise, but not today.” Kate watched Jack walk toward the car, a streak of blood running from his hair to his chin. His eyes were empty. Her hands still clutched the wheel, her grip so hard she couldn’t feel her fingers.
He came around to the driver’s side and yanked on the door. Kate flinched, fumbling with her belt, scrambling to the other side of the car.
“Unlock it.”
Tommy started crying.
“Unlock it now,” Jack repeated.
It was the last thing Kate wanted to do, but no point making the situation worse. They couldn’t stay in the car. She pressed the door release, expecting Jack to open the door her side and drag her out. Instead, he opened the back door and unfastened Tommy.
“Don’t hurt him,” she shouted, scrambling out of the car.
Jack carried Tommy back to the house with Kate at his heels. He picked up two of the soldiers from the box of toys and took Tommy into his bedroom.
“Be a good boy and stay in here.” He closed the door, then turned his dark, impermeable eyes on Kate. He touched his head and looked at the blood on his fingers.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just wanted to take him back to his…” She stood her ground as he walked over to her, not because she was brave—her feet wouldn’t move. His first blow sent her to the floor and her glasses skittering away. It happened so fast, Kate wasn’t even aware of falling. A foot connected with her ribs and she curled up. He kicked her again. Kate pressed her face into the rug. The pain sent shock waves to every part of her body.
“I want to love you. How can I when you try to kill me?” He caught hold of her hair and slammed her head down. Kate screamed.
“Please, please,” she choked out.
He thumped her in the back and she jackknifed on the floor. Kate felt herself sliding away. The room lost its definition. Now she wanted to die, wanted it all to stop, but the blows kept coming.
Chapter Nineteen
The Evidence Unit’s report on Kate’s apartment was uninspiring. Luke read it twice to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. They’d gone through every item of clothing, opened bottles, checked her CDs, photo albums and yearbook. Even her mattress had been examined. Plenty of full and partial prints all over the apartment, but after Kate, her neighbor and the building supervisor were eliminated, none remained unidentified. Luke was staggered. No visitors?
They’d sprayed Luminol too, and Luke was relieved no greenish-blue stains indicated blood had been spilled and cleaned up. Nor did their tests indicate the presence of semen, though Luke thought TV gave too much helpful advice to criminals. Smart ones didn’t leave traces of DNA.
Luke scanned the paperwork. The technicians had been thorough. They’d even checked the bag of candy. Smears from latex gloves had been recovered from several places. They’d also found pollen traces on a Snoopy nightshirt that matched the flowers in the bouquet. Luke guessed Kate wore that when she’d handled the flowers.
Although lack of forensic evidence could be bad news, it also meant there was nothing to suggest Kate had been beaten or killed, at least not in her apartment.
“We could be chasing our tails on this,” Gil said.
“If we find her blissfully happy in her boyfriend’s arms, we can charge her with wasting police time, but until then we assume the worst. So, what have we got?” Luke muttered. “She’s lying on her bed in a Snoopy nightshirt, eating candy and reading, and the buzzer goes. She opens her door to take a delivery of flowers but the guy slams his way in and pushes the bouquet into her face. Maybe he rapes her. He gets her to change, pack, then takes her out of the city in his car, stopping once at an ATM she
’s used before. She tries to make a break for it, but fails. He stops again after midnight at an ATM she’s never used and clears her account. No attempt to use the card since. Her credit card hasn’t been touched.”
“Maybe some unknown boyfriend came to see her, saw the flowers and killed her?” Gil suggested. “Or maybe her lover brought them. They got into a fight; he kills her and drags the body off somewhere. The taking of her clothes and the withdrawing of money just to make us think she’s alive.” Luke rolled his shoulders, trying to work out the kinks. “We could guess forever.”
“I don’t think she knew this guy,” Gil said.
“I agree. Her neighbor is pretty firm on what Kate’s like. Or if she did know him, he was someone she wanted to avoid. We haven’t found anyone who thinks the sketch based on the ATM guy’s description looks familiar, not colleagues or neighbors. But this guy knew enough about her to know she lived alone and would be alone. He had a reason for choosing Kate and we need to find why.”
“They could be anywhere by now or she could be dead,” Gil said.
“I don’t think she’s dead. While he’s getting what he wants, she’ll stay alive.”
“Poor kid.”
Luke nodded.
***
When Kate came round, she lay still until her brain slipped back into gear. If she moved, he might hit her again. She heard him close by and tensed, anticipating another blow. Jack caught her by the scruff of the neck and dragged her across the floor to the bathroom. He used the handcuffs to fasten one of her wrists to a water pipe that ran from floor to ceiling. Through half-open eyes, Kate watched him wash the blood from his face before he walked out of the room.
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