With Deadly Intent

‘Ambulance. Someone get an ambulance. She’s alive,’ his voice was raspy, emotion clogging his throat. ‘And get me a knife, something to cut these ties with,’

  Eckley appeared from behind.

  ‘Alex, move away. Move to one side and let me see to her.’

  He placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder, guiding him to one side, and took up position beside Cass. Someone handed him a pen knife and he quickly snapped through the ties, her arms falling limply to her sides.

  Gently he manoeuvred her onto her back, checking to make sure she was breathing. Her breaths were shallow, her pulse weak, but definitely present. Working silently, he pulled the tie from his neck and fastened it tightly above the wound on her leg. The bleeding had started again as he moved her. Once again he thought to himself, ‘Clever girl,’ knowing instinctively she had leaned over to stem the bleeding.

  Alex sat beside her, his face ashen, watching as Eckley worked.

  ‘She’ll be OK, Alex,’ he said softly. He watched Alex weep and knew he hadn’t heard the words.

  Within minutes the scream of a siren wailed as the ambulance made its way to the Sunderland Royal.

  Chapter Forty

  7th November, 1545 hours – Sunderland Royal Hospital

  Alex was sitting in the waiting area of A&E, not seeing the multitude of people milling around him. He didn’t see the stares off the patients and other people waiting, didn’t acknowledge their silent questions asking what had happened, and why was he covered in blood.

  All he could see was Cass, her face pale and her breathing shallow.

  She had been rushed into surgery the second she had arrived; a whirr of doctors and nurses pushing her along and shouting at her side.

  And he had been left alone.

  Through his fog he had managed to phone Rose, his voice almost breaking as he told her to come to the hospital. He didn’t hear her reply that Eckley had already rang, or that she was in the taxi on her way. He’d somehow managed to phone Ali too, telling him that Cass was alive.

  Finally finished with the phone, he put it back in his pocket and stared at the plastic cup of water at his feet. One of the nurses had placed it there at some point, he figured. His hands shook as he picked it up and took a sip.

  The first he knew of Rose’s arrival was when her arms wrapped round him and pulled him close, her tears dampening the shoulder of his shirt. He knew how she felt, didn’t try to fight as his tears fell and he gave in to the comfort of her arms. Rose just held him, letting her grief flow with his for a moment.

  ‘Thank you,’ she croaked, pulling back and cupping her hands to his face. ‘You found her, Alex, you found my baby.’

  Alex couldn’t speak, didn’t trust the words to exit his throat. He shook his head, his eyes so full of pain that Rose had no choice but to pull him close again.

  ‘She’s strong, my daughter. A fighter. She’ll get through this, Alex,’ she whispered into his ear, then kissed him on the cheek.

  Finally Rose pulled back and sat down beside him. Neither had noticed Roger leave, but he suddenly appeared with paper cups of steaming coffee.

  He sat beside Rose, placing one hand on her knee in comfort.

  7th November, 1705 hours – Sunderland Royal Hospital

  ‘DCI McKay?’

  The sudden voice invaded Alex’s thoughts as loud as a bell. He looked up, registering the blue scrubs worn by the man in front of him. His heart in the pit of his stomach, he nodded silently, feeling Rose grip his hand hard.

  ‘I’m sorry it took so long for me to come back to you. I know you’ve been here a while. During surgery, Cass’s heart stopped beating twice. We had to give her a large blood transfusion, but we got her back. She’s been moved up to ICU for the time being. She’s not out of the woods yet, still in serious condition. But she is stable. If you’d care to go with Diane here, she’ll show you to Cass’s room.’

  Alex barely heard anything beyond the fact that Cass’s heart had stopped beating but that they had got her back. He shook the doctor’s hand, and turned to the nurse, Rose still holding his hand tightly.

  The nurse smiled quietly, ‘She’s a strong one that one, there was no way she was ready to give up. As the doctor said, she is still in serious condition. She has a couple of broken ribs, bruising and some minor internal bleeding in her abdominal area, and her face is pretty bashed up but all in all she’s doing really well. She’ll look worse than I make it sound though just to prepare you. Her bruising has already started darkening. She may well need some reconstructive surgery to her nose further down the line.’

  Alex exhaled deeply as they followed her down the duck-egg coloured corridors. He still had the lead weight in his stomach, figured it would be there until he knew for certain Cass was OK. He could feel Rose trembling beside him, her hand still gripping his. He tightened his grip momentarily: he knew how she felt.

  As they entered the side room, both Alex and Rose gasped.

  Despite the nurse giving them warning, they weren’t quite prepared for how bad Cass looked.

  She looked tiny on the hospital bed, the cannula in her hand wired up to a drip of clear fluid. The oxygen mask disguised some of the bruising but all around both eyes was already a darkening shade of purple, and there was a blue hue beside her mouth, and a small cut to her lip. Both wrists were bandaged, hiding the marks Alex knew had been left by the cable ties. The heart monitor bleated steadily beside her, and her left leg was elevated onto a pile of cushions.

  ‘I’ll leave you with her. Talk to her. It’ll help,’ said the nurse.

  Rose finally let go of Alex’s hand and pulled a chair up to the bed.

  Alex picked up Cass’s hand, gently rubbing her soft skin with the pad of his thumb. He was so wrapped up in his emotion that he didn’t notice the tears falling down his cheeks again.

  8th November, 0605 hours - Sunderland Royal Hospital

  Cass felt as if she was floating. She could feel the waves lapping at her, trying to pull her back under. She fought against the tide, and tried to open her eyes. She could hear loud beeping, steady and in time with her heart which was pounding in the background.

  Her mouth felt as if it were full of cotton wool, and her body felt heavy, and somewhere in the middle of it all was the pain. Dull and throbbing in her ribs, aching in her stomach, stinging to her wrists and sharper, more acute in her leg.

  Struggling, she pulled herself further into consciousness, piecing together the fragments from her memory.

  What the hell happened? I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.

  Her eyes opened a crack, then closed as the bright glare of artificial light caused needles of pain, making her groan. She opened them again, forcing herself to accept the light and not drift back into the darkness.

  Tilting her head slightly, she saw her mum, fast asleep, leaning on Roger whose head was against the wall, his mouth open wide as he snored softly. A faint smile passed over her lips.

  Something heavy was on her hand, she couldn’t move it. Momentarily she felt panic, but quickly realised that it was Alex’s head. He was sound asleep, his hot breath gently swaying the tiny hairs protecting her skin.

  She was safe. Alex had found her.

  Cass suddenly remembered the date – 8th November.

  Happy birthday to me. I’m still here, and I’m alive.

  As she faded again, she had a passing memory of Reynolds and remembered he wasn’t a threat to her any more. And as she felt her head relax back into the pillow, the morphine helped the dark curtains close once more.

  A smile fluttered over her lips. This was one show that was definitely not over.

  Epilogue

  Alex stood behind the tree in the cemetery looking over at the funeral taking place. Hardly anyone had attended – there was only four people besides the vicar. He wasn’t surprised. None of the police family would turn out to this funeral.

  It was sad really, to be buried and only have four people present to say goodbye. Alex frowned – i
t showed the kind of man Frank had been. The only reason Alex was there was to make sure the bastard was dead and gone. Glancing around, he took in the small group, the detective in him not switching off for a moment. The two older women were well dressed, hadn’t seemed particularly saddened at the thought of losing Frank, and hadn’t shed a tear. Probably from the church he went to. The next was a man, probably late fifties, and had the kind of demeanour that men have when they hold positions of relative power – his priest maybe?

  The last male had Alex perplexed. Younger, maybe only twenty, he’d stood with his back to Alex through the ceremony. When it had ended and he’d turned to leave, Alex had felt a shiver when the man made brief eye contact. In that moment Alex had gazed into an abyss, one filled with apparent anger at a life taken too soon. He wondered who the man was. Alex had tried to follow, but he’d lost him, the male ducking out of sight behind a large headstone then failing to reappear. Alex shook off the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was probably nothing.

  It was a good job Frank had killed himself before Alex had found his way into the boiler room – he dreaded to think what he’d have done if Frank had been alive. Would he have had some control? Or would he have lost it and kicked the living hell out of the man who had taken the woman he loved.

  The woman he loved – that thought made him feel warm, despite the bitter wind now whipping around the graveyard. He loved her. And she’d survived despite everything. He’d known the second she’d come round in the hospital that he wanted to spend his life with her, or maybe he’d known before but that had been the moment he’d made the decision to get the ring. He’d proposed the next day, and she’d said yes. In spite of all the confusion and pain she’d been in, she’d known what he’d asked and cried.

  Alex pulled the collar to his jacket up around his face, protecting himself from the elements, and turned to leave. He paused at the mound of earth that contained what was left of Frank Reynolds and smiled. Got you, you bastard.