Wrong Number

by Carys Jones

  Jake was on his feet and Amanda could see from his bloodshot eyes that he was drunk. How many hours had he sat and stewed in the darkness self-medicating with whisky? Knocking back glasses until he felt numb towards the pain of fearing for his son?

  ‘Oh yeah, well if I didn’t—’

  ‘Look,’ Amanda placed herself between the two men. She could feel the angry heat radiating off them both. She pressed a palm against Jake’s chest and gestured with her other hand for Shane to stay back. ‘Your son is safe. But if finding McAllister will give you piece of mind, then I’ll help.’

  ‘You’re already in this too deep,’ Shane raged through clenched teeth.

  ‘What harm can an innocent little internet search get me into?’ Amanda countered sweetly. Her eyes dipped to the waistband of Jake’s jeans, to where she assumed he still had a gun stashed. It was in all their best interests for her to diffuse the tension in the room as swiftly as possible by any means.

  ‘You think you can find him?’ Jake was backing down, retreating back towards the sofa.

  ‘I found you, didn’t I?’ Amanda playfully arched an eyebrow at him and surprised herself with her light tone. Jake’s entire face crinkled into a warm smile.

  ‘You’re resourceful, I’ll give you that.’

  ‘Never come between a woman and her computer,’ Amanda teased.

  *

  At the kitchen table Amanda fired up her laptop and commenced searching. Jake hadn’t given her much to go on. The man he was after was named Gregg McAllister. Hardly the most unique name in Scotland. He was apparently over six feet tall with a ‘Glasgow-smile’ scar. Which meant that someone had once taken a knife to both corners of his mouth and crudely extended his grin.

  ‘Do you really think you can find him?’ Shane was standing behind her, one hand on her shoulder.

  Jake was stalking across the kitchen on the other side of the table. His movements were wild and restless, like a beast that’d spent too long in a cage.

  ‘There’s got to be… something.’ Amanda’s fingers danced their way across her keyboard, firing in every plausible search she could think of. But as she predicted Gregg McAllister was smart. He wasn’t about to announce his presence to the world on Facebook.

  ‘Urgh,’ grimacing in frustration Amanda kept searching.

  ‘Will this take much longer?’ Jake demanded from across the room. He glared at Shane and Amanda sat behind the laptop. It was like a line had been drawn down the centre of the kitchen table; a line which none of them could cross.

  ‘These kind of searches take time,’ Shane offered flatly.

  ‘Are you as familiar with those… things… as she is?’ Jake was gesturing at the laptop like it was some alien object.

  ‘We’ve always shared a love of computers,’ Amanda felt increased pressure from Shane’s hand upon her shoulder as he spoke. It felt protective. Reassuring. ‘Remember that old Atari we set up at your parent’s house?’

  ‘God, we played it so long that one summer your fingers locked up,’ Amanda recalled, laughing.

  ‘And your Mum kept insisting we’d get square eyes. Remember when she hid the joystick?’

  ‘In the laundry basket? Yes! It was so—’

  ‘Can we get back to protecting my son?’ Jake’s voice thundered through the room as though the storm had returned.

  ‘Yeah,’ Amanda shook her head and focused on her computer screen. ‘Of course.’

  There were so many Gregg McAllisters. And none of them seemed at all likely to be the head of a drug-smuggling operation. There were gym owners. Pub landlords. College students. Oil rig workers. A fire—

  Amanda hammered down on her keys, calling up the story.

  ‘Eight years ago there was a fire at a country estate just outside of Edinburgh. An entire wing of the building was destroyed and Kelly McAllister, seven, and her sister Erin, ten, were killed.’

  ‘I remember that,’ Jake clicked his fingers at her. ‘Billy talked about it when we started working for McAllister. He said it had been a grudge attack from a rival. That McAllister had never been the same since he lost his girls.’

  ‘So that’s where he used to live.’ Amanda did more searching. As she delved deeper into the story she saw the smiling faces of the pretty little girls who’d died as their faces adorned old news reports. The fact that they’d got caught up in their father’s war and paid the ultimate price was heartbreaking. Pushing her tears down, Amanda focused on what she needed to find; an address. A phone number. Anything.

  ‘Weird,’ she leaned closer to the screen, wanting to be sure of what she was seeing.

  ‘What?’ Shane leaned in too.

  ‘According to these property records, the building wasn’t sold on after the fire. Which means that Gregg McAllister may still live there.’

  ‘Makes sense, he adored those girls,’ Jake grumbled from across the room.

  ‘Okay, so if I can find the report from the fire service records, I’ll get the address.’

  ‘Are you sure about this?’ Shane asked, his breath was warm against her cheek. He was so close she could smell the cologne which he’d freshly applied at some point when she’d been absent from his side.

  ‘She’s sure,’ Jake answered on her behalf. ‘Get me the damn address.’

  ‘Do you really think he’d hurt Ewan?’ Amanda ceased typing to look over her laptop at her husband. ‘I mean, he knows the pain of losing a child. Why would he inflict that on someone else?’

  ‘Because he knows the pain,’ Jake scowled, ‘because he knows it’s a pain like no other. That’s exactly why he’d inflict it on someone else.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Amanda found the address easily. She typed it into Google maps to get a better look at it. It looked to be a large house, almost a mansion, with a separate triple garage. It was surrounded by dense woodlands and had a single sweeping driveway leading up to it. In the back garden there was what looked to be a pavilion which could have housed a swimming pool. It was an impressive property. And highly fortified.

  High walls bordered it on every side and when Amanda zoomed in she saw the CCTV cameras peering out from every corner, the iron spikes lacing the top of the walls. Heavy gates were closed at the end of the driveway.

  ‘It’s not the kind of place you can just drive up to.’ Turning the laptop around, she showed Jake the property. Planting his palms against the table, he leaned forward, his movements stiff and uncertain. ‘But I’m pretty sure that’s his house.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Jake agreed gruffly. ‘Looks like the place.’

  ‘So you know where he lives, what now?’ Shane demanded. ‘Are you going to pen him a strongly worded letter and hand-deliver it?’

  ‘I’m going to hand-deliver something.’

  ‘He’s a wealthy man up in his castle and you’re just—’

  ‘A serf? A peasant?’ Jake raged. ‘Either I kill him or he kills Ewan. It’s that simple.’

  ‘There has to be another way,’ Amanda looked at Jake, her eyes pleading.

  ‘There isn’t.’

  ‘You take one step out of this place and I’ll arrest you.’ Shane clenched his jaw and stepped away from Amanda.

  ‘You have no jurisdiction here,’ Jake waved a dismissive hand at the other man.

  ‘Try me.’

  Amanda noticed Jake’s hand twitching, lingering close to the small of his back where his pistol was surely wedged up nice and close to his body, within reach.

  ‘Let’s just sleep on it, okay?’ She sprang to her feet, her body sagging with relief at the thought of resting. It was exhausting playing peacekeeper.

  ‘Amanda, there’s no way—’

  ‘Let’s sleep on it.’ She cut Shane off and looked deep into his eyes, praying that he could read her expression and understand that it was best to stand down.

  ‘Fine,’ Shane conceded and raised his hands up. ‘Whatever.’

  *

  Amanda got the double bed in the cottage’s sole
bedroom. There had been no argument from either of her companions as she made for it and eagerly tucked herself up beneath the floral covers.

  Shane had stretched out in an armchair in the corner of the bedroom and Jake was in the lounge, struggling to fit his large frame across one of the sofas.

  Sleep came quickly for Amanda. It carried her away from the cottage on silent wings. She was back on a sun-soaked cliffside, the wind tugging at her hair. The ocean roared beneath her, guttural and menacing.

  She moved towards the sheer edge, towards the birds nesting just a few feet from her. If only she could get closer to them. If only—

  And then the world slid on its axis. Amanda tumbled over the edge and the wind met her in the face, punched her in the chest. The taste of the salty air was replaced by a metallic tang. Amanda sucked in a shuddering breath. This was it. She was going to die.

  Hands.

  Not on her legs but her shoulders. Shaking her. Sifting the dream out of her mind.

  ‘Amanda!’

  Her eyes opened. Gone was the sunlight and blue sky of the cliff edge. Instead she was in a darkened room, the air clotted with dust and cologne.

  ‘Amanda!’

  She was looking into Shane’s eyes. He was so close. She could see the white trace of an old scar upon his forehead. Could smell the mint of his breath from when he’d previously brushed his teeth.

  ‘Amanda, you need to wake up.’ He sounded alarmed.

  Rubbing at her eyes, Amanda shifted so that she was sitting up against the plump pillows on the bed. A single floor lamp had been turned on, its deep red shade bathing the room in rose-shaded hues. If she hadn’t been awoken so abruptly she might find the room rather beautiful and serene. But instead her heart was racing and trying to claw its way up into her throat.

  ‘What… what’s going on?’

  ‘He’s left.’

  ‘Left?’ The dream had been so vivid and it was reluctant to let Amanda go. A part of her was still hovering above the angry waves, waiting to be plunged to her death.

  ‘Yes, he’s left. Jake is gone.’

  ‘Who’s Jake?’ She’d been sleeping so deeply. Her connection to the waking world hadn’t yet been fully restored.

  ‘Will,’ Shane’s voice softened. ‘Your husband.’

  And it all came flooding back to her with the ferocity of a freight train. Her memories smacked against her, knocking the air from her lungs. Jake was Will. And Will was gone. Several tears dropped down her flushed cheeks.

  ‘He’s gone?’ she was whispering as though she and Shane were sharing some dreadful secret.

  ‘I got up to pee. Went to check on him and he wasn’t there. His car’s gone.’

  ‘Shit.’ Amanda was scrambling out of bed, reaching for her clothes which were stacked up on the floor. She didn’t even care that Shane was seeing her in her underwear. Although a part of her which she tried to ignore did hope that he was enjoying the view. ‘Where do you think he’s gone?’ she asked as she sat on the side of the bed and tugged on her skinny jeans.

  ‘Where do you think?’

  ‘Shit,’ Amanda repeated as she ceased dressing to cradle her head in her hands.

  Jake was surely en route to the McAllister mansion to start a fight he had no hope of winning.

  ‘If he goes there they’ll kill him,’ her hand fluttered to her throat and lingered there.

  ‘It’s highly likely.’

  ‘We have to stop him.’ Amanda stood up a little too quickly, felt herself go dizzy.

  ‘He could be miles ahead of us.’

  ‘Or just a few minutes,’ she countered hopefully. ‘Either way we have to go after him.’ Amanda pulled on her t-shirt and then made for the door but Shane remained in the bedroom, his hands thrust deep into his trouser pockets.

  ‘We could just leave him to dig his own grave,’ he suggested as she looked back at him.

  ‘Shane, I couldn’t. I mean—’

  ‘He left you, Amanda. You owe him nothing. What kind of man leaves a woman like you?’

  ‘You tell me.’ Amanda blinked away her tears.

  ‘Look, if we can just—’ Shane crossed the space between them in a single stride, his hands reaching for hers.

  But Amanda pulled back, retreated into the shadows of the living room.

  ‘We find Jake.’ Amanda kept moving, making for the kitchen and then the car. ‘We find him and we help him save his son. Beyond that I don’t know what happens.’

  ‘If we follow him down this rabbit hole…’ Shane was still hanging back. ‘Things are going to get dangerous, Amanda. People are going to get hurt.’

  ‘Haven’t they already?’

  Amanda stared at Shane for a second too long before pushing open the door and stepping out into the brisk embrace of the night.

  24

  ‘Dammit, Will.’ Amanda clipped her seat belt in place, too tired to care that she’d just got her husband’s name wrong.

  ‘We’ll find him,’ Shane was getting behind the wheel, placing his key in the ignition. As the car roared to life, Amanda reached for her seat belt, freeing herself from her seat and diving back out into the cold.

  ‘Amanda!’ she heard Shane shouting to her as she hurried back to the cottage and grabbed the one thing she didn’t dare leave behind; her laptop. With it tucked up beneath her arm she raced back to the car.

  ‘Are you really so attached to that?’ Shane asked as she climbed back into the passenger seat, breathing heavily after her race through the field.

  ‘We might need it.’

  ‘Do you know the plates on his car?’

  Amanda chewed her lip as they pulled away from the idyllic cottage. Her silence was answer enough for Shane.

  ‘Without his plates, or access to his satnav, we can’t track him, you know that.’

  ‘Did you check his plates?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Aren’t you supposed to be some super cop?’

  ‘Supercop not Superman.’

  The car bounced along the rough lane which drew them down towards the main road. In the darkness it was hard to tell where the road disappeared altogether in a sharp drop and where there were just shadows.

  ‘Why would he leave alone in the middle of the night?’ Rubbing her temple, Amanda leaned back wearily in her seat. ‘Is he deliberately trying to get himself killed?’

  ‘He’s not thinking.’ She felt Shane’s gaze briefly drift over her. ‘People do stupid things for those they love.’

  ‘You really think this McAllister guy would harm a little boy?’

  ‘Your husband seems to think so.’

  Amanda released a brittle laugh as the atmosphere in the car grew tense. ‘He’s hardly my husband. I’m starting to wonder if he was ever mine at all.’ She was full of bravado, pretending she was past caring, but the words stung as she said them.

  ‘What’s the most direct route to this guy’s mansion?’

  ‘See, we needed this after all,’ Amanda replied smugly as she opened up her laptop, bathing the space around her in soft light. She made the relevant search and waited barely a second for the result. ‘We could take the motorway.’

  ‘Too obvious. He wouldn’t want to draw too much attention. I reckon he’d stick to the back roads.’

  ‘How can you be so sure?’

  If it was Amanda, she’d choose speed over stealth.

  ‘I’ve tracked guys who are running before. I’m a super cop, remember?’

  ‘How many people run in homicide cases?’

  ‘Pretty much all of them. Aside from the dead ones.’

  Shane hit the brakes hard as the car slid round a particularly tight corner. In the headlights Amanda saw the craggy surface of a hillside rolling up beside them.

  ‘Who can even drive fast round here?’ she frowned as she stared at the empty road through the windscreen. It was nothing more than a trail of cats eyes leading into darkness.

  ‘I’m guessing he knows these back roads. He did gro
w up around here.’ Ignoring a turn-off for the motorway, Shane stuck to the narrow, twisting lanes which kept them bound to the hillside.

  A minute passed. Then two. Shane didn’t turn on the stereo like he normally would. Nor would he turn on the satnav, which would allow their own movements to be tracked remotely. Instead he just drummed his fingers against the wheel as if listening to music only he could hear. ‘I mean, what’s he even going to do when he gets to the guy’s house?’

  ‘Hmm?’ Amanda was pulled out of her own darkening thoughts by the question.

  ‘Jake. When he gets to McAllister’s place, what do you think his plan is? Ask nicely to be let in then crack the guy’s skull open with his bare hands?’

  Amanda shifted awkwardly in her seat. She knew Shane was going to find out eventually. ‘He has a gun.’

  ‘A gun?’

  The car shuddered as Shane drew his foot back off the gas. He looked at Amanda, eyes wide with a mixture of shock and horror.

  ‘Fuck, Amanda, seriously? Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I figured it was best not to bring it up when he and the gun were close by.’

  ‘A gun,’ Shane was shaking his head as he kept driving. ‘That’s… that’s not only highly illegal but it’s asking for trouble.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I mean, possession alone carries a stiff sentence.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘He could aim that thing at someone and shoot without even meaning to.’

  ‘I know. He’s not thinking rationally at the moment. He turned the gun on me when I first found him.’

  ‘He what?’

  This made the car stop. It came to a halt in the middle of the road, headlights still illuminating a string of cats eyes scattered like breadcrumbs towards some unknown destination. Shane leaned forward, tightening his grip against the wheel. ‘He held a fucking gun on you?’ He wasn’t looking at Amanda, he was staring blankly ahead.

  ‘Yes, but he was afraid. I think he was maybe trying to scare me into leaving, I don’t know, and—’

  ‘He held a gun on you?’ Shane repeated in disbelief. ‘Amanda, this guy is supposed to be your husband and not only does he run out on you the second there’s a hint of danger back home, he also puts your life in jeopardy when you take the trouble to go find him! I’m done. Some people just aren’t worth saving.’