Wrong Number

by Carys Jones

  As Amanda had watched him labour over the small hole, wrap up the tiny bird and then carefully place it within its final resting place, her heart was so full of love for Will Thorn that she thought it might burst. He was so kind, so gentle. So like her father had been.

  ‘He’s not dangerous.’ The percolator came to the boil and Amanda poured out two fresh mugs of coffee. ‘He might have another family somewhere, but that’s it. And I deserve to know the truth. But I know with all my heart that Will isn’t dangerous.’

  ‘Think about what I’ve already discovered,’ Shane urged. ‘Jake Burton had a criminal record. He did time, Amanda.’

  ‘What did he do time for?’

  ‘Theft. Breaking and entering.’

  ‘So petty crime then.’ Amanda remarked churlishly.

  ‘—Drug smuggling.’

  This silenced her. Amanda’s chin dropped to her chest.

  ‘Amanda—’

  ‘No, you don’t know enough to judge him,’ Amanda angrily thrust a coffee towards Shane, her eyes shining with tears ‘Maybe there are things I don’t know about Will. Like his real name or who his family are. But sharing a bed, a life, with someone lets you learn a few very real truths about them. Will is kind. Will is brave and he is also sensitive. He’s not dangerous, Shane. Whatever he did in his past, he’d have done it for good reason.’ In her heart Amanda knew that Will was a decent man despite what his past implied.

  ‘I just want you to be careful.’

  ‘And I just want to find my husband. I’m tired of waiting around for the police to actually do their jobs.’

  ‘Stay away from the darknet, Amanda. I’m begging you.’

  ‘What if it were Jayne?’ Amanda challenged. ‘Would you just accept that she’d disappeared? Or would you do everything in your power to find her? To bring her home?’

  Shane said nothing.

  ‘I have to find him.’

  ‘At least let me confirm why Jake Burton was reported dead. Can you let me do that?’

  Amanda closed her eyes and released a long breath. She thought of the money. Of the van. Of the false identity. Then she thought of something her mother always used to say to her when she was growing up. Corrine would plant her bejewelled hands on her little daughter’s shoulders and grandly impart her pearls of wisdom.

  ‘My dearest, Amanda. In your life you must always be the heroine of your own story, never the victim.’

  She repeated this on a daily basis in the months following Ivor’s death. Amanda failed to acknowledge the significance of the sentiment, feeling as though fate had cast her as a victim before she’d even been given the chance to blossom from a girl to a woman.

  And Amanda knew that she was still being a victim. She was waiting around on a call that might never come, on a husband who might never return. And it all tied back to a wrong number she’d received. If she wanted to become the heroine of her story she needed to uncover the truth by any means. Amanda’s hands tightened around her mug as her entire body became infused with steely determination. She was going to find Will. No matter what.

  ‘Just keep being patient,’ Shane pleaded.

  Amanda glanced at the chrome clock hanging on the far wall. ‘Aren’t you going to be late for work?’

  ‘Shit, yes,’ Shane followed her gaze and hastily necked the remainder of his coffee and straightened his tie. ‘I’ve got a call with a Glasgow police department scheduled for later this morning,’ he explained as he hurried towards the hallway. ‘I’m doing everything I can, Amanda. You just have to trust me. And you just have to wait.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll wait.’

  Shane was now on the other side of the door, outside in the pale morning light. His whole face brightened with relief. Amanda almost pitied him for believing her lie so easily. He’d never been so quickly convinced of her compliance when they were together. But back then he’d known her better than anyone. Her heart clenched.

  ‘I’ll swing by later tonight to check in on you again,’ Shane offered, leaning forward to place a kiss on her cheek. For a second the gesture felt so natural; Amanda was waving her husband off to work, the sun was shining and it was set to be a beautiful day. But she stiffened as he stepped away, remembering how she intended to spend the next twelve hours locked away in her study doing everything she could to find Will. The last thing she needed was Shane coming over right in the midst of her making a breakthrough. He’d only shut it down. Or worse – arrest her.

  Amanda’s objection was bubbling up her throat, preparing to depart through her lips, but she was too late. Exhaustion had made her mind sluggish. Shane was already in his car and pulling out of the driveway. All Amanda could do was weakly wave him off and internally chastise herself for not being quicker, for giving him permission to return.

  Back upstairs her study was no longer shrouded in darkness. Early morning light warmed the room, pushing away any lingering shadows. Her laptop sat on the desk, no longer whirring, merely patiently waiting. Amanda sat down in front of it and unlocked the screen. Her heart crept up into her throat. There were no longer any shadows to hide behind. If she proceeded, she’d be doing so in broad daylight. She paused for a moment, letting the gravity of her actions settle around her. Once she proceeded with her search there was no going back, the darknet was like a black hole which had a way of consuming all those who came too close. But she had to find Will. Sucking in a sharp breath Amanda logged in.

  There were eight more messages waiting for her in the chat room, all offering their immediate support. The final message was from WikiPeakes89;

  So, are we doing this or what?

  *

  The glass shattered in a crescendo of sound. Amanda was just stepping out of the shower when she heard it. It reminded her of when she’d been in college and had fallen over a drum kit in the music room. The cymbal had clattered to the ground so sharply that she’d alerted her entire class to her ungraceful misstep.

  Just like then the sound had died almost as soon as it’d been made. Stepping uncertainly out of the bathroom, draped in a fluffy sheet towel, Amanda titled her head and strained to listen for further sounds.

  There was a squeal of tyres outside. It sounded close.

  Will.

  Lately Amanda’s knee-jerk reaction was to attribute any sort of strange activity to her missing husband. She ran across the landing, down the stairs, not even sure what she was looking for. But when she burst into the living room she saw it.

  A vase was flat against her plush woollen rug, knocked from its perch on the windowsill by the brick that was beside it. And there was glass everywhere. Amanda instantly recoiled to the edge of the room, thinking of her bare feet. A cool summer breeze swept in through the newly formed hole in the window. Amanda looked at it, still stunned, struggling to take in what she was seeing.

  Her stomach knotted, winding her. She knew this wasn’t some random act. This was connected to Will. It had to be.

  Somehow she drifted back into the hallway and called the one person who she knew she could count on for help.

  *

  ‘Did you hear anything?’

  Shane was on his knees, looking over the shards of glass which glistened in the sunshine like scattered diamonds.

  ‘I was in the shower.’ Amanda felt lame and helpless as she lingered behind him. She’d pulled on some joggers and a T-shirt, her hair still damp down her back.

  ‘Well, there’s no message on it,’ Shane carefully turned the brick over. ‘But I’ll take it back to the station to be dusted for fingerprints, it might reveal something.’

  ‘It’s connected to Will, I just know it,’ Amanda stated tearfully.

  ‘It’s probably just kids,’ Shane coolly rationalized. ‘There’s been a string of petty vandalism in the area, always happens this time of year when kids get bored during the long summer holidays.’

  ‘No,’ Amanda’s voice was shrill, insistent. ‘This is to do with the people who are looking for Will.’ She pointed
a shaking finger at the brick. ‘The prank calls and the message on my car. It’s all connected, I just know it.’

  ‘Wait, what message on your car?’ Shane was standing up and smoothing down his shirt. ‘And you just had that one prank call, asking for Jake Burton, right?’

  Amanda’s gaze dropped to the ground, to her sumptuous rug which was still soiled with dangerous shards of glass.

  ‘I…’ she was wringing her hands together, feeling oddly guilty for withholding information from Shane. ‘I saw a message on my car before I went jogging the other morning. And then in the woods I… I blacked out and I guess I didn’t remember to mention it,’ she shrugged helplessly.

  ‘What kind of message?’ Shane was staring at her, silhouetted against the golden light which was pouring in through the broken window.

  ‘It said Where is Jake?’ Amanda chewed her lip. ‘But, I mean, I don’t know. I tried to shake it off in case it was just someone messing with me. But then someone keeps prank calling the house and just lingering on the line. And now this,’ she gestured towards the brick which Shane had slipped into a clear plastic evidence bag, ‘they’re looking for Will, aren’t they?’

  ‘You didn’t mention further prank calls,’ Shane furrowed his brow and looked sad. ‘I can access the call records for your landline, see where these problem calls are coming from.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Amanda wrung her hands together, not knowing what she should do with them. ‘That’d be great.’

  ‘And I’m pretty sure this is just kids playing about,’ Shane glanced back over his shoulder at the broken window, ‘but if you’re feeling spooked, you should go and stay at your Mum’s place.’

  ‘I’ve been there more than enough lately.’ Amanda was watching him, wondering how much truth his explanation held.

  ‘I know but—’

  ‘Can you just board it up?’

  ‘Yeah, of course. But if you’re not feeling safe in your home anymore—’

  ‘I need to stay here.’

  ‘Amanda,’ Shane’s eyes were still full of sadness as he stared at her.

  ‘He’s coming back,’ she told him stridently. ‘And I intend on being here when he does.’

  ‘How can you be certain that he’s coming back?’

  Amanda’s gaze hardened. ‘Because I’m going to find him.’

  ‘You’re not…’ Shane looked back towards the shattered window. His shoulders sagged as he released a deep sigh. ‘The darknet.’ His gaze was hooded as he turned back towards Amanda. ‘Promise me you’re staying away from that shit.’

  The window let in all the sights and sounds from outside. A giant crack in the perfect exterior of her beautiful home.

  ‘I’m going to find him any way I can.’

  ‘So this?’ Shane fiercely shook the clear bag he was holding that contained the brick. ‘This could all be because of some old cage you’ve rattled?’

  Amanda blinked at him. The thought hadn’t crossed her mind. She’d assumed that the brick was connected to Will. Jake. It had to be. The summer breeze that slid in through the new opening suddenly carried a considerable chill.

  ‘Just board it up please,’ she lifted her chin and gave Shane a level stare. ‘I bet this was just kids messing about, like you said.’

  ‘Alright, fine,’ he was shaking his head at her, ‘but since you insist on staying here I’ll still make sure to pop round later. I don’t like you being here alone.’

  ‘Okay…thanks.’

  ‘Everything is going to be alright. I’m here for you, don’t forget that.’

  Suddenly Amanda wasn’t sure whose past she feared more – her own or her husband’s.

  *

  Her laptop chirped. Amanda wiped away the last shred of sleep-induced fog that clung to her and focused on the screen. She had a new message. But it hadn’t come through to her regular email. Someone was trying to directly contact her through her darknet account.

  A sickly feeling crept up her throat as she logged into her Lambchop ID and checked her inbox. One new message. Sender – Turtle82.

  Amanda pushed herself away from her desk, her eyes wide in disbelief. It couldn’t be the same contact, could it? But the coincidence was too much to ignore. Squeezing her eyes shut, Amanda gripped the edge of her desk and slowly pulled her chair back towards it. She desperately wanted to just delete the message but she couldn’t. Turtle82 knew too much about her, about the things she’d done in the past. Mainly because they’d done them together.

  Lambchop I see you’ve resurfaced after all these years. Up to old tricks?

  T

  The message was simple. Friendly even to an impartial reader. But Amanda could read between the lines.

  I see you’ve resurfaced meant that Turtle82 continued to track her, keep tabs on her. Whilst she was trying to find Will through the darknet, she should have known that someone might also be looking for her. As a student there were things she couldn’t hack. She was known in darknet circles as being one of the best, or at least Lambchop was. Her own identity was completely separate. She’d sit up late in her uni room while everyone else was out partying, leant over her laptop, its glow illuminating her face. She’d hack into anywhere if the price was right, and Turtle82 was always finding her new jobs, always nudging her in more questionable directions. They were like a ghost that was guiding her, a name on a screen just like she was, nothing else.

  Amanda would change a student’s A-Level results for a fee. An American’s SAT scores. Enabling them to attend the college or university of their choice. She’d illegally move money, disable security systems, wipe CCTV footage. She never considered the moral implication of her decisions, not like Shane would have. Her refusal to acknowledge the damage she might be causing helped to drive a wedge between them. A wedge which became a canyon.

  Again Amanda read Turtle82’s latest message. Did they have work for her? Or was this a threat? Did Turtle82 know more than the fact that she’d re-emerged within their murky social network? Did they know who she was? Would the next message read ‘Dear Amanda’? Her heart almost stopped at the thought. She’d been so desperate to find Will that she hadn’t considered the blood she’d be polluting the water with now that she was reopening old wounds… and all the sharks who’d come circling.

  ‘Fuck you, Turtle,’ Amanda muttered between clenched teeth as she hit delete and the message disappeared from her screen. She wasn’t about to let a ghost from her past get in the way of her finding her husband.

  15

  //search:fx6

  //upload

  //execute

  Amanda lifted her hands from her laptop. It was done. The scrape was set up. She looked at the picture of Will she’d scanned into her computer. It lay on her desk, his warm smile currently angled towards the ceiling. The man in the picture was the man she was looking for. The man who cared about animals, had a guttural laugh which always made it sound like he was responding to a dirty joke, and had eyes full of kindness and wisdom. Amanda was searching for Will Thorn, not Jake Burton. A part of her still refused to accept that the two identities were one and the same.

  This kind of search wasn’t entirely new to Amanda. She’d used facial recognition technology before, or at least she’d hacked into enterprises that were using it for security measures. It had been easy enough to clone the software once she’d hacked her way into their networks. And there had been old darknet jobs when Amanda had been hired to infiltrate CCTV networks. Most of them ran on a central grid, similar to telephone lines. Those kinds of jobs were easy and paid good money.

  Amanda had helped track down runaway children, those in debt who were trying to out run their problems. And now she was using the tech to hunt her husband. The inner workings of her laptop whirred noisily. She was pushing her current computer to its limits, asking it to work through an insane amount of data in a short time.

  As her computer kept whirring away to itself, her fingers twitched over her keyboard. It would be so easy to return
to her darknet chatrooms and forums. To put out the call; Searching for info on Jake Burton.

  Were Jake’s/Will’s date of birth the same? There couldn’t be too much discrepancy between them. And what about place of birth? Were any of the few stories Will had told her of his life back in Scotland actually true?

  ‘It was a hard place to grow up in,’ he’d say with a distant look in his eyes. Amanda knew he’d lost his brother. She didn’t want to force him to relive that pain for her. So she kept her questions to herself, assuming that Will would open up to her about his past if he wanted to. But he never did.

  Pushing her chair back, Amanda moved away from the desk, thinking of what her little Grandmother used to say: ‘A watched pot never boils.’

  ‘Find him,’ Amanda ordered her laptop as she slipped out of the room. She intended to go downstairs, to make some more coffee and watch TV. But her feet guided her towards her bedroom, towards her bed. She let her instincts take over as she crashed against the soft pillows, her body finally giving way to exhaustion.

  *

  It was a sunny day. The light glistened on the water as though thousands of sapphires were floating just beneath the surface. Amanda pushed her hair out of her eyes and strode confidently towards the cliff edge. The wind sharpened as she reached the rocky ground. She paused briefly, sucking in a salty breath and looking out into the oblivion which was the ocean.

  She used to entertain fantasies of jumping into the water and just swimming until she reached another country.

  ‘You’d die of exhaustion before you reached anywhere,’ John would pop her bubble of an idea with his sharply accurate knowledge. ‘That or drown when the current pulled you under.’

  ‘That’s why we should get a boat,’ Shane had declared, his dark hair flecked with copper streaks thanks to a summer spent outdoors.