Twenty thousand dollars was a small price to pay for her safety. If Brendan wanted the worry, let him have it. He could prove to be the best bait she needed to draw Tyler out, while she maintained her distance and watched. If something were to happen to him, her case against Tyler would have more weight than ever.
She was smiling and relaxed as Brendan emerged from the bathroom, dressed in shirt, tie and trousers, and minus a beard.
“Wow,” she beamed, surprised by the transformation. “You’re quite the handsome man, Brendan.”
“Yeah, sure,” he grinned. “Just glad I had the beard when I went to Tyler’s gallery. He had cameras up, and he may have got a glimpse of me, but nothing I’m worried about. I was a lot skinnier back in ’99 and I had lighter hair. I dyed it before I came, just to be safe.”
Adele frowned. “What was it like that night when you first saw him?”
“Scary,” Brendan laughed. “When he got out that car and approached Mary, I thought I was going to be witness to something really bad. He was twice her size, built like a brick shithouse and I wouldn’t have had a chance against him. Taking the picture was the worst, and I’m just glad he had the engine running and the headlights on him. Put it this way. I’m in no hurry to see him up too close and personal.”
“No, I don’t suppose you are.” Adele rose from her seat. “Brendan, we probably shouldn’t be seen together in public. If he’s in any way keeping an eye on me, that exposes you. I think we might have to cancel dinner. By all means, treat yourself well on your last night here, and I’ll be picking up the bill, of course.”
Brendan seemed disappointed but he smirked and nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. No sense both of us being exposed to this psychopath. It could get deadly.”
“I suppose it could.”
“And this other apartment..?”
“I have to speak with my parents, but there shouldn’t be any problem. Dad will send someone to take you there.” She wandered towards the door, but stopped to stare back at him. “Brendan, you’re quite satisfied with this arrangement, aren’t you?”
“Hell, yeah,” he laughed. “Tyler doesn’t scare me.”
“Good. Goodnight, Brendan. I’ll be in touch.”
“Once she was out in the hall, Adele gasped for breath, strangely disturbed by what she had just done. How could she be so blasé about Brendan’s life, so prepared to use him as her fall guy? It was possible that she was worrying over nothing. His investigative skills weren’t that remarkable and highly unlikely to expose him to danger, but if she was wrong, the results could be devastating.
Looking back at the door, she was tempted to go back in and revise their plans, but she couldn’t, at least not yet. Progress was being made, and Brendan wasn’t ignorant of the risks. As she walked away, the debate raged in her thoughts, with Adele feeling as if she was sinking further down into some dark abyss.
She was becoming someone she didn’t recognise and despising herself a little more each day. Any thought of confession was dismissed, knowing how much her parents would be devastated. She had no choice but staying the course and trying to live with herself if she ever got through it.
She had just left the hotel when her phone rang. Looking at the screen, she frowned to see an unknown number. It was tempting to switch her phone off, but ignorance wasn’t about to make her problems disappear. Reluctantly, she answered.
“Hello?”
“Adele Easton?”
“Yes, and who am I speaking with?”
“It doesn’t matter.” The voice was female and angry. “Barry thinks you’ve forgotten him. He wants an update on what you’re fucking doing to get his sentence appealed like you told him.”
Adele felt her heart thumping. “I’m working on it as we speak. I’ve got a whole new line of enquiry that is going to help his case.”
“And how long does that take?”
“It could be a few more months…”
“Listen, bitch, Barry doesn’t like to be fucked about. He wants to see something concrete by Christmas. If not, he says he’s going to take matters into his own hands, and you better fucking believe he will.”
“These things take time,” Adele tried to explain. “I’ve got an investigation underway which could have his whole conviction quashed.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means he could be out by early next year without conviction.”
There was a pause. “Yeah? Well you better not be fucking with us. He’s got something on you, and I know, because I got it right here with me and if you fuck him around, we’re going to sink you, bitch. You’ll be doing more time in the slammer than Barry ever will.”
The woman hung up, leaving Adele gasping and trembling. On shaky legs, she went back inside the hotel and sat herself in an armchair in the lobby. She thought of ringing Brendan to come down, but decided against it.
If this woman was telling the truth, it wasn’t enough to rely on Brendan. She needed progress made, faster results and she thought about the email from George. It was a good, solid lead and despite Brendan’s suspicions, it could be the break they needed. They would never know unless she replied. At this stage, she had nothing to lose.
* * * * *
“Thank you, Ken.” Dylan switched the phone off and swivelled his chair back to face the computer screen.
He brought up a video file and started playing it, moving the cursor to the time in question. Sitting back, he watched the man walk into the shop and look around, before going into Ken’s living room. When he returned, with Ken behind him, he kept his head down as if avoiding the camera.
Playing it back, he slowed the footage down and zoomed in. The man was average and sporting too much facial hair to get a decent look at him. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but several replays produced no memories. He certainly knew no one called Harry.
Despite the instinctive twinge in his gut, he had to dismiss him as a nosy journalist or fan. There had been plenty of them over the years and nothing had ever come of it. To allay his concern, he moved to another computer where data was streaming continually like a blue neon waterfall. He interrupted it to go to the daily log to see how much information had been collected.
As usual, there was thousands of captured texts. Bringing up his filtering software, he launched it to begin the process that would narrow it down to certain names, phrases and key words. This reduced it to forty odd files that received his thorough inspection.
Most of them were news articles, forums and blogs. Dylan read each of them, looking for anything other than the casual mention of his name. There was nothing that rang any alarm bells, and he set the program back into its endless trolling through the networks of cyberspace.
CHAPTER NINE
West Coast, South Island, New Zealand, December 2004
The night was warm and everything around them was lit up by a bright full moon and a cluster of stars. It was exhilarating, speeding the 4WD over the sand and shell grit, while the surf roared beside them and the air was fresh with the scent of seawater.
There was a sense of youthful carelessness that the environment inspired, and Dylan was embracing it as he drove at reckless speeds and ploughed through the water surging up on the beach. Beside him, Mary was gasping and holding on for dear life, making intermittent pleas to be careful.
Their week had been surprisingly enjoyable, with Mary discarding her stiff formality and allowing herself some fun. She discovered the thrill of being naked and jumping about in the surf, while taunting Dylan to come after her, and then escaping his reach. He always caught her and chastised her by fucking her doggy style on the shoreline, with the tide bringing the water around them. Sometimes it washed over her head, leaving her spluttering. Dylan often surprised himself by what he found amusing.
Mary was having a few regrets. Not having others to give her a break from his needs was not as wonderful as she’d expected. Their recent sexual interludes had seen her face crum
pling miserably at the sight of his erection. There had been little whimpers of pain when his cock had plunged deep into her sore vagina. She had set a hard limit on the use of her anus, but her buttocks were mottled with bruising. It seemed that the sea air had only encouraged his lust.
Dylan hoped she had learned a far more important lesson. Mary had been hard work from the start, constantly needy and argumentative. Her emotions could get highly strung and he knew that he had to be careful in his handling of her. Their exposure to Brendan North had been a tempestuous ordeal, having to coach her through her reactions, while being carefully insistent that she deny everything. Mary hated dishonesty.
Her tenacity, though admirable, created a rocky foundation. Dylan was used to the unquestioning obedience of his slaves, but none of them were suited for the purposes he had for Mary. He needed her, and that in itself was dangerous. He was constantly tempted to free himself from her, but after five years, she knew far too much. He was cornered and he had to make the best of the situation for both of them.
This last night he would make special for her, maybe giving her a little of the romance she craved. At least, that had been the plan until the night took a sudden turn.
Ahead, Dylan could see a girl, standing at the water’s edge, the surf rushing over her feet, and her arm shielding her eyes from the glare of his oncoming headlights. Her hair, face and nightgown were splattered with something which looked very much like blood.
Mary was gasping from fear, clutching onto him, begging him not to go near her. His instincts were already telling him how unpredictable the situation was. This was not the place anyone should have been at night. The wild coastline was bordered by jagged cliffs, ancient rocks and wild vegetation, the perfect setting to get ambushed by some gang that might be camping in the area.
“Look at her,” Mary remarked fearfully. “There’s blood all over her. She looks half mad.”
The girl had turned back to stare at the sea with its violent waves and surf crashing against the cliffs in the distance. He dimmed the headlights and reached under his seat, bringing out a seven inch knife, with its symmetrical, vicious blade honed to a sharp point. He tucked it into his belt, before opening his door.
His eyes swept about the area, as he addressed Mary. “If you see anything come out from the bushes or rocks, hit the horn immediately.”
With that, he closed over his door and slowly approached the girl. She looked at him again, but seemed unbothered and didn’t move. As he drew nearer, he could see more evidence of violence. One of her eyes was swollen and bruised. Despite the blood on her, he could see no other injuries. When he was a few feet from her he stopped and greeted her gently.
“Hey, are you alright?”
For a moment she stared at him before returning her gaze to the raging surf. “It’s beautiful. I’ve always wanted to see it again.”
“You’re hurt. I can take you to a hospital.”
She smiled and shook her head. “Just leave me. I’ll be alright. I just want to be alone.”
“This is not a good place to be alone. Where did you come from?”
“Just a house.” She frowned at him curiously. “Are you going to make me have sex with you?”
Dylan sucked in a breath. “Um, no. I just want to help you.”
“You can’t. Nobody can help me. If I give you sex, will you go away?”
“Sex is about the last thing on my mind, and no, I won’t go away. I want you to show me where you’re staying and then I’m taking you home.”
“I don’t have a home.” She looked past him and frowned again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”
Dylan turned back and gritted his teeth angrily to see Mary shuffling through the sand towards them. Quickly, he strode back to her, blocking her from the girl’s view.
“I told you to stay in the car.”
“Who is she?” Mary demanded, trying to look past him.
“She’s from some house around here, and she’s nuts, so get back in the fucking car.”
Mary frowned. “Should she be going out into the water?”
Dylan spun back to see the girl had got herself hip deep into the raging swell, and seemed determined to go further. The waves were crashing about her body, unsteadying and toppling her.
“Fuck.”
Dylan took off after her, knowing it wouldn’t be long before she went under. These were dangerous waters. There were rip tides, and one powerful wave could take her out of his reach and he would never find her in the dark waters. Within a few strides, the waves were smashing against his body, but he was gaining on her rapidly. The next wave would be well above her head and he threw himself forward, getting his hands secured on her waist as the water came over them.
The girl didn’t struggle until he had her scooped up in his arms and was carrying her out. After a few gasps for air, she began to buck against his grip.
“Let me go.”
“Like hell I will,” he growled, flicking wet hair from his eyes.
The moment he was out of the water and away from the surf, he dumped her down to the sand and began to undo his wet boots.
The girl stood up, her face indignant. She went to march off, until he grabbed her arm and pulled her down again.
His face was furious. “Get up again and I’ll fucking tie you to the car.”
She pouted and folded her arms over her large breasts, outlined clearly by her wet nightgown. Mary came running up, looking to him anxiously as he pulled off his boots and socks.
“Can I help, Master?”
Dylan glared at her, shaking his head. “Just go get the medical kit.”
As she ran off, his eyes went back to the girl. She was staring at him curiously. “Why did she call you Master?”
“It’s my name,” he replied harshly. “I want yours.”
“Ashley. Ashley Tait.”
“Well, Ashley Tait. Now you’re stuck with me and I want some answers. Where the fuck did you come from and why is there blood all over you?”
Her head bowed down, until a fistful of her hair was seized close to her neck, making her look up again, straight into his penetrating stare.
“Make no mistake. I’m not a nice man and I’m not easily ignored. Start fucking talking.”
Instead of intimidating her, Ashley screamed, her hands clawing for his eyes. Dylan snatched his head back, but felt the sting in his cheeks as her nails dug in. He slammed her head down to the sand and seized her wrists, drawing them together and pinning them to her lower back in one hand, while his other went back to her hair.
He pulled her head back up and brought his face down close to hers. “That fucking hurt, but it won’t compare to what I’ll do to you if you try that again. I’m trying to help you.”
She began to cry. “Then let me go back to the water. I just want to die. I don’t want any more pain. I can’t do it.”
Mary came running up, carrying a black metal box. Her mouth fell open as she saw the bleeding scratches on Dylan’s face. The girl had broken into howling, hysterical crying.
Dylan stood up, dabbing delicately at his face.
“Let me help you, Master.” Mary knelt down in the sand and opened the box.
“Just stay out of my way.” He crouched down and pulled the box to himself, removing the top compartment. Underneath, amongst the bandages, there were disposable syringes and three small vials. He snatched up a syringe and tore the packaging open with his teeth, but cursed at the sand on his hands. “You’ll have to do this. Take a vial and half fill the syringe.”
Mary nervously plucked the syringe from the plastic. Dylan looked back at Ashley who was curled up on her side and still bawling loudly.
“What is this?” Mary asked quietly as she slowly filled the syringe.
“Just something that’s going to make her sleep. I’m going to hold her and you’re going to stick into her arse, and dispense it evenly. Can you do that, Mary?”
She nodded, pouting di
straughtly. “It won’t hurt her?”
“No. It will give me time to work out what the fuck this is.”
Ashley hadn’t moved when Dylan returned. He eyed Mary and nodded, quickly kneeling backwards over her and dragging up her nightie on one side. The girl was suddenly bucking violently under him, but unable to shift his weight. When one buttock was exposed, he pulled up on the leg of her panties, uncovering more flesh. Mary knelt down, but her hands were shaking. Taking the syringe from her, Dylan plunged it into Ashley’s buttock as she screamed, bucked and kicked.
He kept her down until the fight began to go out of her. Getting off her, he sat down on the sand and pulled her into his lap. She gave her last weak struggle and gave up, staring at him, through half closed eyes.
“Just go to sleep,” he told her gently. “I’ll look after you. I promise.”
She finally closed her eyes. Dylan looked at Mary who stood staring at them fearfully.
“What are we going to do with her, Master?”
“You said you knew the name of everyone who lives around here. Her name is Tait. Ring any bells?”
“Yes,” Mary nodded. “Brian Tait lives about four kilometres north of here.”
“Let’s get back to the house and you’ll have to watch her, while I check it out. She should stay asleep for a few hours.”
“Maybe you should treat her leg too, Master. That looks very nasty.”
Dylan looked down and scowled as he saw the deep indentation of raw red skin encircling her leg, just above her ankle. He knew exactly how the wound had been caused.
“We’re leaving at first light, so start packing the moment we get back.” He frowned, peering at the girl in his arms. “I could be gone a while so you’ll have to keep a strict eye on this one. Her name is Ashley.”
“Ashley?” Mary frowned. “Ashley Tait?”
“Yes, is that a problem, Mary?”
“No, Master,” she smiled. “No problem at all.”
CHAPTER TEN
Sins of the Master Page 11