by Maggie James
‘Hi,’ Jake says as he enters the kitchen. ‘You must be Aiden, right?’
Aiden offers his hand. ‘And you must be Jake. Pleased to meet you.’
‘Likewise.’ Dana’s ex stares at her. ‘Have you been crying, love?’
At that, Dana unravels. Tears fill her eyes as she nods, unable to speak thanks to the anguish blocking her throat. What must Aiden be thinking? Her sobs intensify, and Dana’s not sure how much longer her legs will support her.
A strong arm wraps around her, and she’s pulled into the living room by Jake, Aiden following. She can’t bear to look at her son. He must think her weak, foolish, pathetic.
‘Sit down, love.’ Jake takes the space next to her on the sofa, pulling a tissue from the box on the coffee table and handing it to her. Dana blows her nose noisily, embarrassment flooding her face. God, she can’t fall apart this way.
Aiden kneels in front of her, taking her hands in his. When she dares to look at him, she reads only concern, not condemnation, in his face. Relief causes fresh tears to stab her eyes.
‘Talk to me,’ he says, his voice gentle. ‘Why are you so upset?’
Dana swallows down her sobs. ‘I’ve had a terrible row with Lori,’ she says, her voice hoarse.
‘About what?’ Aiden gets up, sits the other side of her on the sofa. ‘Listen, you two are rock solid. It’ll all be OK, you’ll see.’
‘No. She doesn’t understand. Doesn’t know the whole story.’ She blows her nose again. ‘Has she mentioned she’s been searching for her uncle? So I can get a kidney transplant?’
Aiden looks surprised. ‘She mentioned it, yeah.’
‘Well, she’s found him. He wants to meet her.’
Puzzlement steals into Aiden’s face. ‘Isn’t that a good thing?’
‘No.’
‘Why ever not?’
Dana gulps. Her hands twist around the sodden tissue. ‘She doesn’t know what he’s like. I told her he’s a no-hoper. But I lied; he’s far worse. He’s an evil bastard, in fact. Now I’ve no choice but to tell her the truth.’
‘Dana, love,’ Jake says. ‘You’re not making sense. What truth?’
‘I’ll tell you,’ Dana replies. ‘I’m warning you both, though: it’s an ugly story.’
Lori peels open her eyes, a brown blur meeting her gaze. She blinks, willing her vision into focus, registering the fact she’s lying in an unfamiliar room, the brown sea its carpet tiles. How on earth did she get here? Whatever’s happened, it’s filled her head with concrete, and the room swims as she struggles to sit up. She’s cold, her fingers and feet numb, the air in the room chilly. A musty odour fills her nostrils. As she pulls herself upright, her arms touch what’s behind her, its surface rough yet cool under her fingertips. A wall, and Lori, grateful, drags herself against the support it offers, her head lolling back on the plaster. A light from above is shining in her face. She shuts her eyes against its glare.
When the throbbing in her head becomes less intense, she cracks open her eyes again, wincing at the brightness.
‘Thought I was going to have to slap you awake.’ A male voice, amusement in his tone. ‘You’ve been unconscious for quite a while.’
What the hell . . . ? The pain in her head forces Lori to close her eyes once more. Images float into her memory. Ryan’s car pulling into a deserted industrial estate. Her boyfriend telling her the place will be his new business premises. Followed by the sucker punch to her head, her world turning black. And now here she is, with an unknown man, in a place she doesn’t recognise, and she has no idea why he’s done this, or what happens next.
God, she can’t think straight. Who is this stranger? Where is Ryan? Why isn’t he here?
A thought, so terrible she can hardly contemplate it, breaks through Lori’s confusion. Perhaps her boyfriend is dead. Killed by this man. With the likelihood she’ll be next.
‘My brother’s a pervert,’ Dana explains. ‘Warped, twisted, deviant.’
Jake’s clearly shocked. ‘Jesus, Dana.’ Beside her, Aiden fidgets, his unease obvious.
‘One time, he exposed himself to me. Lori too.’ A shudder runs through her. ‘I remember it like it was yesterday.’
‘Oh, my God,’ Aiden says. ‘No wonder you didn’t want her around him.’
‘It was years ago, but it’s burned into my memory. Ross was thirteen at the time, but advanced for his age. I’d taken Lori – she was about to turn five by then – to Dad’s for Sunday lunch. She wasn’t well, though, and vomited all down her dress. I took her to the bathroom to get her clean. When I heard footsteps on the landing, I turned round and saw Ross. He had his trousers halfway down, his hand in his pants, stroking himself.’
‘Jesus. What a pervert.’ Jake’s voice holds disgust.
‘I pushed Lori behind me so she couldn’t see. Then I asked what the hell he thought he was doing, not that he took any notice. Instead, he reached out, grabbed my left breast, squeezing it hard. I wanted to scream, alert Dad, but I didn’t, because of Lori. The smirk on his face terrified me, because in that moment I grasped how warped my brother was. There’d always been something off about him; he was constantly in trouble for bullying at school, and he was impossible to control at home. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t love him. What I saw in his eyes that day chilled me to the bone. He lacked any shred of human decency. I knew I could never allow my daughter near him again.’
Aiden looks shocked. ‘Did you tell your father?’
Dana shakes her head. ‘Dad wore blinkers as far as his precious son was concerned. I broke away from Ross, took Lori downstairs, and left as soon as I could. I told myself it was a one-off.’ Her voice trembles.
‘Christ, Dana.’ Jake shakes his head. ‘Your brother sounds like a psychopath.’
Dana nods. ‘I suspect he probably is.’
‘Was it a one-off?’ Aiden asks.
‘No. I stopped taking Lori over to her grandfather’s if I knew Ross would be there. I cut down my visits, always went alone, never used the bathroom. It worked well enough. Mostly.’
‘Only mostly? What else happened?’
‘One Sunday lunchtime, Dad got up to fetch more vegetables. Ross started stroking himself under the table. I realised what he was doing from the way his right arm was moving, the vile grin on his face. “You should bring Lori over sometime,” he told me. “I’d love to play with her.”’
‘Did you tell Fraser?’ Jake asks.
‘No. I was too ashamed, too embarrassed. It became my dirty little secret. Although I think Dad realised what his son was like. The strain must have taken a huge toll on his health. He suffered high blood pressure, migraines, cellulitis. It didn’t help that my father was overweight and smoked a packet of cigarettes a day.’
‘You’re right. He must have known, deep down,’ Aiden says.
‘He couldn’t admit it, though, not then anyway. After he left school, Ross still lived at home, lounged round the house all day, made no effort to get a job. By now, Dad’s patience was wearing thin, and he’d already suffered his first stroke. Ross was born when he was in his mid-forties, so by the time he became an adult Dad was in his sixties.’
Dana gets a fresh tissue and blows her nose. ‘Could one of you make some coffee?’ The memories have drained her. She needs a break if she’s going to tell the rest of the story.
Jake heads into the kitchen. All the while Dana pictures Lori with Ross, him acting the role of the happy uncle, her daughter delighted she’s found him. And her sweet trusting girl will believe his lies, unless Dana takes action.
Somewhere deep inside her, a dam breaks, forcing her, sobbing, against Aiden’s chest, as his arms curl round her. When Jake returns with the coffee, Dana wipes her face with a tissue. ‘Sorry,’ she says.
‘Don’t be,’ Aiden replies. ‘No wonder you’re so upset.’
‘You don’t know the whole story.’
Jake settles back on the sofa. ‘Tell us. We’re listening.’
&n
bsp; ‘OK.’ Dana takes a gulp of coffee. ‘One day I took Dad for a hospital appointment. On the way home I did some grocery shopping for him. When we got back to his house, Dad noticed the side gate was open. He went to shut it while I got the bags from the car, but then I heard him cry out. I ran to help, but by then he was already down on the concrete, his face twisted like a pretzel. That’s when I saw Ross. With Kelly Somers, the eight-year-old from next door.’
‘Shit, Dana. Was he—?’
‘Yes. I’ll never forget the terror in her face. She was petrified, Jake. Her knickers were around her ankles, her dress was hitched up, and Ross had one hand between her legs, the other at her throat. He had her pinned against the wall. His trousers were pulled down and he was hard. The gate was a big wooden thing, meaning Ross was hidden from view while molesting Kelly. Until Dad caught him in the act.’
‘The filthy bastard.’ Disgust in Jake’s voice.
‘That’s what caused his second stroke. I called the police and an ambulance, and all the time I was staring at Ross. He stood there, his hand holding Kelly so she couldn’t escape, and he was grinning as though it was a huge joke. Like his own father hadn’t just caught him abusing a child.’ She wipes her eyes. ‘It was only when I ended the call that he let her go. She ran back to her home, to safety.’
‘Did the police arrest him?’ Jake says.
‘No. I had to look after Dad, so I couldn’t watch Ross. By the time help arrived, my brother was long gone. I gave a statement and Kelly was questioned, carefully of course. She denied everything. Becky Somers told me she knew her daughter was lying, that she was too terrified to talk. She became withdrawn, started wetting her bed. Ross was never found.’
‘And you never saw him again?’
‘No. Never wanted to. Where he ended up, I haven’t a clue. I lied to Lori and to Jessie, Fraser too. I said Uncle Ross had landed a job abroad. And Lori didn’t remember much about meeting him as a small child, so she never questioned it.’
Aiden sets down his coffee mug. ‘I suppose she had no reason not to believe you.’
‘No. Years later, I ran into Becky Somers again, right before Kelly died. She told me her daughter started starving herself as a teenager. Then she tried to kill herself by swallowing her mother’s sleeping pills. It was the anorexia that got her in the end, though. I went to her funeral so I could mourn the terrible waste of her life.’
‘What about your father?’ Aiden says.
‘When his speech improved, he said he’d known for years how twisted Ross was but couldn’t admit it. I broke down, told him how Ross had molested me, my fears about Lori. Why I’d never allowed Jessie to meet her uncle, not even once. That was the only time I saw my father cry.’
Jake blows out a breath. ‘All that time idolising his son, only to find out he’s a pervert.’
‘Dad never mentioned Ross again. It was as though he’d never been born. Early dementia set in, and then he suffered a fatal stroke a few years later. I discovered he’d made me the sole beneficiary of his will, leaving me the house I grew up in, his rental properties, and a tidy pile of cash. Not a penny for Ross.’
‘Your brother probably never knew about his father’s death,’ Jake says.
Dana shakes her head. ‘You’re wrong. He’ll have set his sights on Dad’s money. Once he found out Dad left him nothing, he’ll have blamed me. Fraser and I moved house after Dad’s funeral, though, meaning Ross wouldn’t have known where I lived. Now that Lori’s found him, I have to warn her. Impress on her how dangerous he is, before he hurts her.’
‘God,’ Aiden says, his expression grim. ‘Of course you must, and as soon as possible. Have they arranged to meet, do you know?’
Dana shakes her head again. ‘I don’t think so. I got the impression they’ve only been in touch recently. Via Facebook, I think.’
‘Is that her tablet in the kitchen?’ Jake says.
She manages a weak smile. ‘Yes. I’m always telling the messy madam to put her stuff away, but she never does.’
Jake hesitates, then continues. ‘Listen. I know it’s a breach of Lori’s privacy, but I think you should read her messages. Find out how far things have progressed between them.’
Dana’s shocked. ‘You really think I should?’ She pauses. ‘I guess you’re right. Her safety’s at stake.’
‘Stay there,’ Aiden says. ‘I’ll fetch it.’
He comes back bearing the tablet, thrusting it towards her. ‘Here. Do you know her password?’
Dana nods, her fingers pressing the power button. When the screen jumps into life, her breath hitches in her chest. It’s as though the past has leapt from the tablet and swallowed her whole. Denial floods her brain. Oh, God. Impossible. It can’t be.
Yet it is.
‘What the hell is going on?’ Lori, still dazed from the blow to her head, hates the wobble in her voice. ‘Who are you?’
The man ignores her question. ‘Easy prey,’ he says. ‘Just like your mother. Goddamn Dana Golden. Same as Jessie too.’
Shock slams into Lori, along with confusion. She can’t comprehend what he means at first. But then, following hard in the wake of her initial reaction is a realisation. Before her stands her sister’s killer. Jessie’s mystery boyfriend. The older, forbidden fruit of her haiku poem. But what possible connection could he have to her mother? Goddamn Dana Golden. Whatever the link is, he clearly hates her. Amid Lori’s confusion, one thing is flashing a neon warning: this man oozes danger.
‘I don’t understand,’ she says.
‘No,’ he replies, as he moves towards her. ‘But you will.’
The voice is so menacing, so laced with venom, that Lori realises something else very clearly. The why might not be clear, but he intends to hurt her, the same way he did Jessie. Dana too, when he finally reaches her. She squeezes her eyes shut in terror.
He moves across the room, squatting in front of her. ‘Look at me.’
When Lori doesn’t respond, his hand cracks across her left cheek. ‘I said look at me, Lori.’
Lori tentatively opens her eyes. A pair of trainers, topped by jeans, meets them. Her gaze travels slowly upwards. Thumbs thrust into the waistband, a black leather jacket worn over a white T-shirt. She hesitates before looking higher, already aware of what she’ll see. For a further sweet second, she allows herself the belief that this isn’t happening. But it is, and her heart shatters into a million fragments. Denial is no longer possible. Clarity, along with recognition, smashed through her post-punch haze the minute the words ‘easy prey’ left this man’s mouth.
Lori’s eyes finally meet Ryan’s. But the man standing before her isn’t the one she knows, or thought she did. Instead, it’s the real Ryan, the wolf under his sheep’s clothing, the snake lurking in the lucky-dip barrel. Something is missing in his eyes: warmth, humanity, whatever you care to call it, because his dark irises hold only ice. Their strange flatness chills her to her core.
‘I’ve thought about this for so long,’ Ryan says, and his mouth curls into a smile, one that’s North Pole cold. ‘I discovered this place a couple of weekends ago. No one’s been near this building for years. You’re not going to be found for a long time, Lori.’
She breathes in, long and slow, reciting a mantra in her head: stay calm, stay calm, stay calm. Think, Lori, think. If she pushes past him, makes a run for the door . . .
It won’t work. He’s bigger, faster and stronger, and besides which, she’s not sure she can stand, let alone outrun him. Her only chance is to disable him. Grab something, smash him around the head, render him unconscious so she can escape. No other option exists. Nobody but Ryan knows her location, and if by some miracle help does come, it’ll be too late. Besides, why would anyone think she’s in danger? Dana won’t; she believes her daughter’s enjoying a cosy pub meal with her boyfriend. Realisation washes over Lori. The only person who can save her tonight is herself.
Ryan Brooks inches towards her. She instinctively presses against the wall.
How could she ever have thought she loved this man?
‘It’ll be different to Jessie,’ he says. ‘Take longer, prolong the fun. You’ll be reported missing. Dana won’t know whether you’re alive or dead, and the not knowing will eat away at her. Every day she’ll wake up asking herself: will my daughter’s body be discovered today? How much will Lori have suffered? And every night she’ll die a little more inside.’ His face is that of a wolf. Or a jackal. A smile, icier than the Arctic, quirks his mouth.
Lori pulls her eyes away from Ryan’s to survey the room. She’s in what appears to have been an office, with a wooden table that has clearly served as a desk at some point, topped by a pile of filing trays stacked beside a telephone. Not much in the rest of the room, which has two doors. One, she guesses, is the main one, set opposite her, a grimy ‘Exit’ sign above the frame. The other is smaller, tucked into the corner to her left. At the window, a battered Venetian blind, half pulled down, allows a glimpse of thick clouds obscuring the sky. From the angle, she surmises they’re at basement rather than ground level. There’s precious little here she can use as a weapon; the telephone isn’t sufficient, even if she manages to make it across the room to yank it from its socket. The cord, though: if she’s able to wrap it around his throat, she may get out of here alive.
‘We’re going to have fun tonight, babe,’ Ryan says. ‘Or at least I am. You – probably not so much.’
Chapter 20
PREDATOR
Dana stares at the background on Lori’s tablet. A photo, its subject in profile, unaware he’s being digitally captured. She takes in the chilly smile, which she knows will be matched by the coldness in his eyes. Snake-like is how she remembers them, but then she’s long since thought of him as more cobra than human. The man’s face, familiar despite not being seen for so many years, ignites terror within her. DC Lightfoot’s comment makes sense now. The fires at the rental properties were indeed targeted at her. And all of them set by this evil bastard.