Psychological Thriller Series: Adam Stanley Boxed Set: Behind Shadows, Positively Murder and Mind Bender

by Netta Newbound

“But she died because of me,” she sobbed. Huge tears dropped onto her cheeks and she wiped them away angrily.

  “You saved that man’s life. Don’t beat yourself up.”

  I wandered off while Frances got some more details and dialled the station. “Cal, I need a couple of addresses.”

  By the time Frances caught up with me, I had all the information we needed.

  “The victim’s name is Grayson Phelps.” I told her. “He’s an estate agent from Pinevale Realty, and he owns a black Alpha Romeo.”

  “Bingo!”

  “Bingo indeed—our first breakthrough. Cal’s organising an officer to stay by his bedside twenty-four seven. I want to know as soon as he opens his eyes.”

  “So where next?” Frances asked.

  “We need to inform Mrs Phelps and also ...” I glanced at the screen of my phone, “... Lailani Mendoza’s family. Do you fancy driving? I’m getting one of my heads.” I threw the Mondeo keys at her.

  *

  The Phelps’ immaculate semi-detached house was one of around twenty others, all identical, on a new subdivision close to the city centre. Although it wasn’t my cup of tea, I could tell it was worth a pretty penny. Just one of the perks of being in the property business, I guessed.

  As we stepped through the wrought iron gate, a woman, who appeared to be in her sixties, appeared on the doorstep.

  “Mrs Phelps?” I asked.

  The woman nodded, and not a hair on her head moved, as though she’d used a full can of hairspray.

  “Yes. What is it?” She clasped her hands together and seemed to be holding her breath.

  “Who is it, Brenda?” Another female voice came from inside.

  We held up our ID. “Can we come in for a second?” I asked.

  The woman’s face had drained of all colour as she stepped aside to allow us to enter.

  The lounge room looked like an advert from a baby shop. There were two of everything: bassinets, changing mats, and little chairs that held the reason for all the equipment—two teeny babies.

  A woman sat on the sofa with a pump-like gadget attached to one of her breasts. She squealed when she saw us and pulled down her baggy grey T-shirt.

  I didn’t know where to look, and so I turned my back while she sorted herself out. “I’m sorry to bother you,” I stuttered, scowling at Frances who had a smirk on her face.

  Once she’d covered her modesty, removed the device and straightened her clothes, the red-faced woman got to her feet.

  “Which one of you is Mrs Paula Phelps?” I asked.

  “I am,” the younger woman said, placing both of her hands to her throat.

  “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but your husband, Grayson, has been shot. They’ve taken him to casualty. He’s in a bad way, I’m afraid.”

  “Shot?” The older woman stepped forward, shaking her head as her eyes brimmed with tears.

  I nodded, feeling terrible when I noticed the devastation in the older woman’s eyes.

  The woman didn’t seem to notice as her daughter-in-law reached for her hand, she just pushed her aside.

  “My Grayson?”

  “I’m afraid so, Mrs Phelps. He’s in a critical condition. I suggest you make your way there as soon as you’re able.” I nodded towards the babies who were beginning to stir. “Do you have anybody who can stay with the babies?”

  “I’ll call Stacey, my husband’s secretary,” Paula said, un-naturally calm.

  “There’s more.”

  They both turned to face me.

  “We have reason to believe your husband shot and killed a woman earlier this week. Do you know anything about this?”

  “Nonsense! My son wouldn’t hurt a fly.” The raised voice of the older woman caused one of the babies to start crying, and within seconds they were both at it.

  Both women automatically picked up a baby each.

  “Look, we see you’re busy and need to get to the hospital. We’ll call in to see you later if that’s okay?” Nodding to Frances, I headed for the door.

  *

  The large, obese man answered the door in a foul temper, clearly expecting somebody else to be standing at the door.

  “Ross Penter?” I asked, allowing the man to inspect my badge.

  “Yes. What is it?” he asked gruffly.

  “Can we come in, sir?”

  He huffed and walked away leaving the door swinging free.

  We entered, following him into the modest lounge.

  “We’re here about Lailani Mendoza. We have you down as the next of kin.”

  I’d presumed we were here to see Lailani’s partner but maybe not. Lailani had been extra tiny and in her early thirties, whereas this man was seventy if he was a day, and huge.

  “What’s the cheating bitch been up to now?”

  A confused glance passed between Frances and me. “Why do you say that, sir?” Frances asked, squinting one of her eyes.

  “Because I found her secret stash, that’s why. She was planning to leave me. Fucking screwed me out of thousands, she has.” He looked at our confused faces then turned and headed back out the door. “Come see for yourself,” he called over his shoulder.

  We followed him upstairs. His weight made it a slow and painful process, but ,once at the top, he pointed into a room off the landing.

  The small bathroom was decorated throughout with roses and was even filled with the cloying scent of roses. I cringed, as my head pounded even more. Floral fragrances had always played havoc with my sinuses. I wafted a hand in front of my nose as I took in the sight before me.

  The white, painted, wooden side panel had been removed from the bath, exposing several piles of cash placed along the back wall. On top of a stack of papers was a notepad with handwritten notes of flights to New Zealand, leaving in three weeks’ time.

  I crouched down and fished through the rest of the items—Lailani’s Philippine passport and partially filled out New Zealand immigration forms.

  I stood upright and stepped into the hallway.

  “Fucking ungrateful cow. I brought her here when she had nothing. Now look. I don’t know how she’s managed it, but she’s fleeced me good and proper.”

  “Can we go downstairs again, sir?” I steered him to the stairs.

  “I’ll fucking kill her stone-dead when I get my hands on her.”

  “Calm down, sir,” Frances said. “We can’t have talk like that.”

  “Well, I want to press charges then.”

  We headed back into the lounge, and once we were all seated Ross seemed to realise he didn’t know why we were there. “So, why are you looking for Lailani?”

  “We’re not.”

  “But you said ...”

  “I’m sorry for any confusion, but we know exactly where she is, sir. The thing is, Lailani shot a man this morning.”

  Ross blew out of his lips noisily, shaking his head. He glanced at Frances as though for confirmation.

  “The thing is, during the scuffle she managed to fatally wound herself.”

  “Fatally what? I...I don’t understand.”

  Frances got up from the armchair and went to his side. She took his huge hand in hers. “Lailani is dead, Mr Penter.”

  Chapter 41

  The boys scarpered before Andrew got out of the car, just like earlier, amidst a flurry of lewd hand gestures and swear words.

  Mary crouched at the top of the stairs when he entered but ran into the bedroom once she saw the expression on his face.

  He was livid.

  He took the stairs two at a time and found her cowering on the mattress. A voice in his head told him to calm down, but he was too angry to listen.

  “Stand up!” he yelled, grabbing her by the arm and yanking her to her feet.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m so sorry.”

  “What did I tell you?”

  “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

  “I told you to stay away from the fucking window! Nobody can know you’re here, and yet there
you were standing on the fucking windowsill like a prozzie in Amsterdam!”

  “I didn’t do anything. We were just talking.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  “Nothing.”

  “What did you tell them?” he said, through gritted teeth, pulling her wrist up to his face and forcing her to look at him. “Tell me. Now!”

  “J-just my name. They w-wanted me to go to the park. But I told them I wasn’t allowed.”

  “What else.” He shuddered with rage. He’d gone through too much to allow a stupid little bitch to ruin everything.

  “Nothing, honestly, Daddy. That’s when you got back.”

  “You’d better be telling me the truth, or so help me ...”

  “I am. I promise I am.”

  “Well, you can stay in your room until I call you. I’m angry, Mary. Very angry.”

  “I know, Daddy. Truly.”

  “I know, Daddy. Truly,” he mimicked, and shoved her back onto the mattress.

  She fell with an exaggerated flounce and began sobbing.

  “And you can shut that fucking noise up if you know what’s good for you. Anyone would think I was giving you the fucking hiding you deserve.”

  Her sobbing quieted but didn’t stop. He left her with silent tears running down her cheeks. The pathetic vision of her made him want to give her something to cry for, and it took all his efforts to close the door behind him. The colour left his fingers as he gripped the door handle so tight.

  Back outside, he scanned the street for the boys. He wouldn’t be responsible for his actions if he got his hands on the cocky little shits, which was probably not a wise thing to do, considering he was meant to be keeping a low profile for a few days.

  After getting the bags from the car he trudged back inside and threw the bags of clothing and shoes up the stairs where they hit the back wall with a thud. He’d been looking forward to showing her them before she ruined everything.

  He sat at the kitchen table and spent the next half hour setting up the mobile phone he’d bought. Then, after getting a number from the top drawer of the hall table, he dialled.

  “Ricky? It’s Drew. How’re you going with those documents I ordered?”

  ***

  For such a giant of a man, Ross cried like a baby. Neither of us could get any more sense out of him. He clearly knew nothing of his partner’s secret life, not just the reason she shot Grayson, but also the business of the cash and documents hidden underneath the bath. There was more to Lailani Mendoza than met the eye.

  We got to our feet, preparing to leave.

  “Is there anybody we can call? You shouldn’t be alone,” Frances said.

  “What’s going on here?” said a male voice from behind us.

  We all spun around to find a man standing in the doorway.

  “And you are?” I asked.

  “David Penter, his son.” He nodded towards Ross, his top-heavy brown hair flopping with the motion.

  “Your father’s had some bad news, Mr Penter. We will probably need to ask you a few questions later, but right now your father needs you,” I said.

  “What bad news?” he asked, walking further into the room and reaching out his hand to the arm of the chair.

  “Your step-mother, Lailani, is dead. She ...” I leapt forward as the younger man’s legs almost gave way on him. I caught him and eased him onto the armchair.

  “Lailani? Are you sure?”

  “We’re certain, I’m afraid.”

  “There must be some mistake. What happened?”

  “She shot a man this morning.” I waited for my words to sink in. “A member of the public intervened, and Lailani ended up shooting herself. She was already dead by the time the paramedics arrived.”

  David’s whole body shook, and his teeth chattered. His eyes looked like huge orbs in his suddenly-gaunt face.

  I glanced at Frances who was still comforting Ross, raised my eyebrows and nodded at the door.

  Frances nodded back and got to her feet. “Come on, sir. Let’s go and make a cup of tea.”

  Ross didn’t argue, allowing Frances to ease him to his feet and guide him to the kitchen.

  Once alone, I sat on the opposite armchair. “Can I ask you a few questions?”

  David sniffed and nodded, wiping his face on his shirt sleeve. “Lailani wouldn’t hurt a soul. She was gentle and loving and kind.”

  Oddly, every one of the shooters had been described as such. But they had all been driven to it for one reason or another. I still had no clue.

  “Can I ask what kind of relationship you had with her?”

  David gasped, as his eyes darted to the door, clearly checking his dad wasn’t in earshot. He didn’t say anything, just shrugged and eyeballed me defiantly.

  “Your father found a lot of cash and some documents underneath the bath. There are also details of a flight to New Zealand. It won’t be too difficult for us to find out in whose name the tickets are booked.”

  David’s shoulders dropped. “It’s not what you think.”

  I nodded.

  “We love each other. Dad’s never treated her right. Shit, he’s never treated anyone right his whole life. Lailani and I are soul mates, best friends. We were looking forward to spending the rest of our lives together.”

  “In New Zealand? Courtesy of your father’s stolen money?”

  He shrugged. “It was the only way. You don’t understand what he’s like.”

  “Tell me everything about Lailani. This shooting is one of many, and we are certain they are all connected somehow.”

  “I don’t get it. She’s got no reason to hurt anyone. I don’t even think she’s ever fired a gun.”

  “Maybe somebody was blackmailing her? You’ve got a doozy of a secret that could be worth big money if the wrong person found out about it.”

  “She would have told me. We had no secrets from each other. Who is she supposed to have shot, anyway?”

  “A local businessman. He’s still alive, or at least he was, but he’s in a bad way. We’re hoping he can shed some light on things when he finally comes around. But in the meantime, any information you can give us would be helpful, like who Lailani mixed with—any friends, acquaintances or interests. That kind of thing.”

  “She never went out except to the supermarket. She was a real homebody. She didn’t talk to anybody as far as I knew, apart from old Sally from next door, but that was only the odd few words over the fence.” He buried his head in his hands and once again began to cry. “I can’t believe she won’t be coming home. She wanted to go last week. Why didn’t I listen to her?”

  “What was stopping you?”

  “I wanted to get a little more money.” He wafted his hand in my direction. “Don’t look at me like that. I know we had enough, but a few more weeks would have made all the difference.”

  “Hey, man, who am I to judge?” I raised one ironic eyebrow.

  “Anyway, it wasn’t just about the money. I was also thinking about Lailani’s phobia.”

  “Phobia?”

  “Yeah—she was terrified of flying and was seeing a therapist. She agreed a few more appointments would sort it.”

  “Interesting. Who was she seeing? Do you know?”

  “She did tell me but I can’t think straight at the minute. Can I get back to you later?”

  “Of course. In the meantime, I think you need a good long talk with your father.”

  “You won’t tell him, will you?”

  “Tell him what? That side of her life is nothing to do with my investigation, at least at this stage. But if I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s that something like this doesn’t stay secret for long. I’d tell him myself if I were you.”

  My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I stood up and dug it out.

  “Sorry, I need to take this,” I said to David, before sliding the bar on my phone. “Amy, what do you have for me?”

  “Adam, I thought you’d like to know there’s been
a sighting of Andrew.”

  Chapter 42

  Amanda was beside herself when she woke to find Sandra had taken Emma to school and Jacob to day-care. Once she calmed down, she agreed it was the best place for them. Andrew wouldn’t harm a hair on their heads, of that she was certain. He wouldn’t harm Mary either—not physically, anyway, but fuck knows what psychological damage he’d caused. Amanda knew all about the effects psychological damage could have on a person. She only had to look at her own messed up state of mind.

  “Can I get you anything, love?” Sandra asked, appearing in the doorway wiping her hands on a tea-towel.

  “No, thanks. Why don’t you come and sit down for a few minutes? You’ve not stopped all day, and I’ll bet you didn’t sleep a wink last night.”

  “I would rather stay busy. My nerves can’t cope with too much thinking time.”

  “It’s not your fault. You do know that, don’t you?”

  “I do, but it doesn’t make me feel less responsible. She was in my care at the time.”

  “I’m glad he managed to take her without a fight. There’s no telling what state of mind he’s in, or what he’s capable of.”

  “You don’t think he’ll hurt Mary, do you?”

  “No. I don’t. But there again, I didn’t expect him to do any of the stuff he’s already done. He’s changed—totally different to the boy I longed for all those years he was missing.”

  Sandra plonked down beside her on the sofa and stroked her arm. “Don’t fret, love. If anyone can find him, it’s Adam.”

  A sound of car doors slamming, followed by the squeak of the garden gate, had them both up on their feet and peering out of the window.

  “Well, talk of the devil,” Sandra said, as they watched Adam and Holly Frances walking up the path.

  Amanda cried out as she ran to meet them. She flung the front door open, and it crashed noisily back into the wall.

  “Hi, Amanda,” Frances said.

  Adam didn’t wait for Amanda to launch into the million questions she had for him. “There’s been a sighting of Andrew not far from here, so at least they’re still local.” He kissed her on the forehead before stepping inside and through to the lounge.