Shiver Sweet

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Shiver Sweet Page 6

by H Elliston


  Nicola wished she had stayed in the car with Brian and Christa, rather than play cupid and be so foolishly vain.

  Cupboards rattled in the office.

  What were they looking for? Documents? Money? Computers?

  Sweating and shaking in equal measures, laying in silence in the confined space, Nicola tried to get her brain in gear. Perhaps this was just a robbery gone wrong, a second attempt like Christa had feared. But what on earth was on the tablet computer that had freaked John out so much?

  CHAPTER 10

  NICOLA

  Nicola shook as if on vibrate. Tonight was scaring the crap out of her. Footsteps faded out of the office. The room fell silent save for humming pipes and a ticking clock.

  “What now?” Nicola asked John who was squashed against her inside the window seat.

  “Do you have any idea who they are?”

  “No.”

  Someone ran upstairs saying, “No one leaves until we find them.”

  John pushed the seat lid up and climbed out. “C’mon. Quick. The windows in here are painted shut. We need another way out.”

  Limbs numb, Nicola got to her feet. Shadowing John, she sprinted across the carpet and they stopped behind the door.

  “This is a blind spot,” John whispered. “Stay close.”

  Floorboards creaked overhead.

  John inched the office door open and stuck his head out. “Follow me.” He dragged Nicola across the hall, and pressed his back against the wall opposite the office. One more glance at the screen and he raced into the coat cupboard. He parted the coats and shoved Nicola into the hidden cove on the right onto her knees. Its sloping roof went around the corner and under the stairs. “We should be safe here. I know this house better than they do.”

  With her heart pounding in her ears, Nicola realigned the hanging coats. She placed some tall boots and oddments in front of them and squashed up against John in the darkness.

  Pallid light from the tablet softly lit John’s creased face. He craned to look at Nicola and gulped. “I’m not sure you’re ready for this,” he whispered, then flipped the tablet around to show her the screen.

  Her jaw dropped. Bombshell! Christa’s kitchen was displayed on the screen. On the floor near the splattered cake was the knife she’d dropped only moments ago.

  John tapped the back button and the entire screen filled with snapshots of rooms around the house.

  “Cameras?” Nicola whispered. “All over our friggin’ house?”

  “I’m afraid so.” He tapped the screen and zoomed in on real-time, full colour moving footage, flipping from one room to the next, showing men searching them.

  Nicola gasped. Holy crap!

  “Someone’s guarding the back door,” he said. “He’s wearing a mask so I can’t see his face. Another guy’s in Sarah’s bedroom right now. Damn. That room’s our best way out.”

  How’s he figure that? “Sarah’s?”

  “Yep. Why are they here, Nicola?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  He clicked through to the home page. Beneath a vibrant red and turquoise banner were a mass of thumbnail-sized video feeds from various houses. Each screen was a frozen teaser, titled and with a brief blurb underneath. Some had flashing red borders showing current activity or perhaps popular feeds. “Whoa. This isn’t the only house they have cameras in,” John explained. “This is a website full of them.”

  “My God! Perverted... peeping Toms.” Nicola flushed in anger as she read the title of her and Christa’s video link: Hot Mansion Girls.

  “It’s sick.”

  Nicola shuddered and hugged herself. Countless strangers had undoubtedly watched her undressing, bathing, and at bedtime had probably witnessed her... “Oh, Lord. This can’t be true.” She cushioned her face with her hands. Had every private moment in this house in fact been public? And for how long?

  “From the angle, I’d say a few look like webcams,” John explained, tutting and shaking his head in disgust. “But the rest, well... these monsters have actually installed fixed cameras into people’s bedrooms, bathrooms... See? Just like in here.”

  “But how? Why?”

  “For money. People pay to subscribe to the site.”

  “P-pay to watch us? No... n-no!”

  “Just like you and Christa, those being filmed are probably unaware. I guess that gives the voyeurs a bigger thrill.” He clicked on the camera in Nicola’s bedroom; a man was upturning her room right here and now. “People bathing, having sex, arguments... There’ll be kids on here too. It’s outrageous.”

  Nicola’s heart clenched at the thought of Sarah being filmed.

  “You name it, and they’ve probably watched it. It’s a voyeur’s paradise. Even I’ll be on there, peeing behind the—”

  “What?”

  “Shush. Someone’s coming.”

  Footsteps rapped down the hall. Several doors banged open and closed. Lights clicked on and off. “Can’t see ‘em. Where the hell did they go?” a man rasped, then opened the coat cupboard. Light pooled on the row of boots shielding their feet.

  John clutched the tablet to his chest to dull the bright screen.

  Nicola huddled on her knees against John in the shadow of the coats, digging her nails into his wrist. A hand came through the rack of coats, blindly sweeping the air an inch from the top of her head. She dipped lower and leaned sideways, held her breath and bit her lip to lock in a whimper. The man’s fingers brushed the sloping roof. Some seconds later, he closed the cupboard and raced upstairs.

  “Sick bastards.” Nicola gulped air, heart thundering. “We have to tell the cops.”

  “Absolutely,” John whispered. “I’ll email the police on this, if I can work out what to press. It must be 3G seeing as the phone line’s out. Or cut.” He fumbled with the screen. Eventually several rows of apps appeared. “Safari. That’s the internet, right?” He opened the app and Nicola watched him type ‘police’ into the search bar. Just as the results page loaded, the screen blacked. “Oh, crap!”

  “Idiot. What did you do?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know. Nothing. It’s locked! I’m frozen out.” A passcode entry box showed in the centre of the screen. “Double crap. It’s timed out or...”

  “No, it can’t have done, you were just using it.”

  He stared at her. “Well then, someone’s locked us out. Remotely.”

  Nicola swallowed. “Can they do that?”

  He shrugged. “I think you can on smart phones, so maybe you can on this. But without the passcode this computer’s no use to us. We’re blind now.” John ditched it and crept through the hanging coats in the cupboard. “But there was no one in this part of the house on the footage a minute ago.”

  “I can hear someone moving around upstairs, but not in the hall.”

  “We’d better get out while we can.”

  “No.” Nicola grabbed his arm. “Let’s stay here.”

  “And what about Christa or Sarah? What if they come back? We have to get out and call the police.”

  Nicola bit her lip. Yes, Christa could be on her way. Oh, crap.

  “Besides, if they phone more people to help them search then we won’t stand a chance.”

  Nicola’s mind hopped back a couple of sentences. She tugged his sleeve. “Why would you be in the footage? Peeing?”

  “Not now. We don’t have time,” he said, suspicious undertones to his voice.

  Hmmm... “What are you hiding?”

  “Come on.” He grabbed Nicola’s elbow, opened the door and poked his head out. “All clear.” He signalled Nicola and together, they dashed down the hall.

  “We can’t open the front door without a key.” she whispered.

  “And mine won’t work since Christa changed the lock.”

  The lock? He knew that too? It was starting to sound like he had been watching them on the website himself.

  John hurried her into the downstairs toilet and slid the little bolt in place. “I watch
ed them look here a minute ago. We should be safe for now. There isn’t a camera in here.”

  Glad to hear it.

  Nicola yanked free of his grip and backed up to the sink. No doubt about it, there was something dark and dodgy about John being here tonight.

  Nicola bunched his sleeve in her fist, leaned forward and forced eye contact. “How did you know that Christa changed the office entry code? You’d better tell me what’s going on or I swear to God I’ll...”

  “Jeez! Do we have to discuss this now?” He dug his teeth into his lip, then sighed. “Okay. If it’s the only way to shut you up... This isn’t the first time I’ve been back inside this house since... the split.”

  She frowned. “I need more than that.”

  He rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. The low rumble of a voice came from upstairs. When it ended, John whispered, “I’ve been trying to persuade Christa to move out.” He held her gaze. “There. Happy now? Can we leave?”

  Small but unexplained events flashed through Nicola’s mind like a slide show, until her mouth fell open. She leaned back and stared with a fresh, critical eye, stunned. “More like frighten her into moving out, right?”

  His face crumpled.

  She shook her head in disgust. “That disgusting smell, the strange noises... th-that was all you?”

  He lowered his eyes. “I’m not proud of myself. And look what shit it’s landed me in.”

  Huh? Did he want her to feel some sort of sympathy for him? “You do realise that you’ve committed illegal acts. What about the break-in last night. Was that you?”

  John nodded then humphed, apparently amused. “I can’t be convicted for entering or even vandalising my own house.”

  Nicola hoped her stare would burn into him. “Don’t get smart with me, pal!”

  “Look, Christa hurt me, and yes, I’ve been an ass.” John’s snide but whispered tone oozed jealousy. After peeking through the window and muttering, “there’s no one on the driveway,” he glanced back at her. “She never loved me. It’s always been about him.”

  His words moved through Nicola, chilling her. Nicola knew he was referring to Brian and totally agreed.

  A melody began playing from somewhere down the hall.

  “What’s that? A ring tone?”

  He slid past Nicola to the window above the sink and fingered the catch to open it. “Think you can squeeze through here?”

  Nicola nodded. “Asshole.” John won’t squeeze through there, surely.

  John opened the window, and then turned and offered her his hand. “I shouldn’t have done what I did, but right now, this asshole is your best shot of getting out of here alive.”

  Nicola wanted to punch his lights out, but compared to the men who were hunting them, John was a pussycat who’d probably peed behind Christa’s radiators. Vile man! She clasped his hand. “If we make it out of here, I-I’ll kill you myself.”

  “Fine.” John helped her lift her leg onto the sink.

  When Nicola was half way through the window, someone ran down the hall.

  “It’s in this cupboard,” a man yelled. “But they’re not.”

  “Hell.” John gasped. “That tune must be a locator or something on the tablet.” He shoved Nicola’s bottom to push her through the window.

  A moment later, the toilet door rattled. “They’re in here,” a man shouted. “Someone go outside, round the front in case they escape.”

  “Hurry,” John said, shoving her again.

  Nicola slithered through the window and landed hard on her hands on the icy concrete at the front of the house. Despite pain shooting up from her wrists, she rolled over and scrambled to her feet. For a split second, she considered leaving him, but then gratitude toward John washed through her and she stretched her arm through the window. “Give me your hand.”

  John reached up, but then someone kicked the toilet door open, knocking John against the wall. “There you are,” a tall man in a ski mask and leather jacket said, then bellowed through the house, “The girl’s outside. Hurry.”

  A shock wave of panic tore through her.

  “Run, Nicola! Go!” John grabbed the pot cistern lid off the toilet and raised it.

  Nicola turned and ran down the drive, sticking to the side to avoid triggering the security light.

  A man bombed through the side gate, chasing her.

  Oh, shit. “Heeelp!”

  He hooked her arm, jolting her to a stop and turning her to face him in the moonlight. “Going somewhere?” he asked, one hand on her, the other holding a cigarette.

  Full of rage, Nicola clawed his face and his ski mask tore open on one side, revealing stubble and a glistening face of sweat.

  He tightened his hold until she cried in pain, and then shook her hard. “Guess you’re stuck with me.” He drew on his cigarette. Smoke-heavy breath puffed her way, and the orange glow of a cigarette bobbed between his lips. A light came on inside the house illuminating him.

  Nicola’s pulse quickened to about forty miles an hour. She gasped. “I know you!” It was the guy who’d crashed his car into a wall near the pub. “I helped you. How can you do this to me?”

  He shrugged, showing he didn’t give a damn. “It’s business. Nothing personal.”

  Unable to escape his grasp to run away, she raised her free hand, whipped the cigarette out of his mouth and rammed the lit end up his right nostril.

  His eyes bugged out and his grip on her slackened. “Bitch!”

  Nicola planted the heel of her foot into his groin with all she had.

  He howled and doubled over, cupping his privates.

  She turned and ran flat out along the drive, hair flapping, tears streaming down her face, eyes fixed on the street ahead. “Someone help me!”

  Heavy feet thumped along behind her. “Get back here and shut your mouth.”

  It took barely ten seconds for Nicola to reach the road, but the man was fast. Too damn fast. Tight hands gripped her shoulders, yanking her back.

  He wrenched her around in the snow. “You’ve done it now, bitch.”

  Nicola saw the raw anger in his eyes. Blood dripped down his right eyebrow; the cut from the crash. She tried to duck as he raised a hand and whacked her across the face.

  CHAPTER 11

  NICOLA

  Nicola raised her thumping head off the cold kitchen floor and opened her eyes on hearing a voice.

  “Dale, you’re an idiot!” a man snarled distantly. “That wasn’t the plan.”

  “I didn’t have a choice, Rick,” another man replied. “Shut up and let’s deal with it. I say we off her right now.”

  “No. The girl lives, so keep your masks on. Looks like she’s been thrown a lifeline.”

  “Why?”

  “Henry thinks she can be of use, doing the uploads. Now keep your temper in check before you mess anything else up.”

  “He’s making a mistake, but... okay. Let me think about this.”

  God knew how long Nicola had been knocked out. Every muscle ached. She ran one hand down her shivering frame. What happened? Her shoes were missing, her top torn to reveal her bra, and something sticky had matted the ends of her hair. She fingered her jaw. It throbbed so much she could barely part her lips to draw breath.

  The nauseating air reeked of sweat and smoke. A long, hard object sat tight within her fist, but her clouded eyes were yet to focus. Seconds passed in a blur.

  Her elbow touched something large as she staggered to her feet. She blinked and shook herself out of her whirlpool of confusion, stared around and screamed. Shock punctured her soul. Death. A sobering, terrifying sight. She burst into tears. Her hand fell open and a bloody knife clattered to the floor and skidded away. A knife? Wha-t?

  “Welcome back,” said a bulky man in a padded jacket as he stepped into the kitchen.

  Her stomach blazed like liquid fire seeing John heaped by her bare feet; motionless, head turned to one side, belly down in a pool of blood over white tiles.

&n
bsp; In her panic to stand and distance herself from his body, she fell against the kitchen cabinets and slapped a bloodied handprint onto the worktop.

  “Grab hold of her,” he said.

  Footsteps tapping the tiled floor behind her cut through the relative silence. Nicola jumped and spun around. Raw panic gripped her as another man approached, wearing spectacles beneath his mask.

  “Nice of you to join us,” he said. “How’s your head?”

  A cold breeze blew in from the patio doors behind her. Nicola’s torn top flapped as she backed up to the doors. “Who... who are you? What do you want?” She checked over her shoulder, ready to split.

  But the man who’d captured her on the drive came out of the heavy snowfall into the kitchen, barring her exit. “Yep. He’s still out cold, but breathing. Think she hit him on the head with a roof slate. He’s gonna need a doctor.” His knuckles drained white as he cracked them. He glared through his torn mask, and then cupped his nostril where she’d burned him with the cigarette.

  The well-built guy in front clicked his fingers. “Nicola. Look at me.”

  He knows my name? Confused and sobbing, she whipped around.

  He pulled a mobile phone out of his pocket and stepped closer to her. “I know you’re scared right now, but you have to listen and do exactly as I say.”

  “Why the fuck did you have to come back home?” the man beside him spat. “And why did he?” He pointed down at John. “Rachel cocked up.”

  “Enough!” The well-built guy ran a hand over his masked head. “Cool down. It’s all gone wrong, but we have to focus and clear this mess up.”

  Clear it up? And me? Holy crap. “Please. Don’t hurt me.” Her begging eyes darted between the three men surrounding her, and then across to the house phone.

  “No point,” he said. “We already cut the line.”

  From behind, a man shoved her closer to John’s body.

  The bulkiest man took a photo of her. “Stand still. No need to smile.”

 

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