The Guilty Wife

by Elle Croft

  I squirmed in my seat. I didn’t deserve his love. And I wasn’t sure if I actually wanted it any more. Not if he was responsible for all of this.

  ‘So why didn’t you say something?’

  ‘Ah, well, that’s where this gets complicated. As I said, I suspected about you and Calum, but wasn’t sure until he died. I didn’t actually think you were involved in his death or anything, but then when I saw that CCTV footage I knew you were in over your head. And while we were watching the news coverage of you walking away from the scene, I got a text. From an anonymous number.’

  ‘Oh, shit.’

  My horror at the idea of Jason being threatened was tangled up in a sense of overwhelming relief. If he’d received messages of his own, Jason couldn’t be the killer. I’d known all along that he could never have done something so terrible. At least, I’d wanted to believe it, but now I could stop wondering. My husband was the same man I’d married. He wasn’t a killer. Which meant I’d been focusing all of my energy on the wrong person.

  ‘What did it say?’

  He slid his phone out from his jacket pocket and scrolled for a few seconds before clearing his throat to read.

  ‘“Not a single word: not to the cops, and especially not to your wife. Unless you want her to die next.”’

  I groaned. Whoever the killer was, he had a hold over everyone I cared about. He was controlling my life, moving us like chess pieces around his board, exactly where he wanted us.

  ‘I obviously couldn’t talk to you. I panicked, tried to get you to safety, which is why I made you come away for the weekend. I know it didn’t help anything, but I just … I didn’t have a clue how to keep you safe. And then I was searching for the shed keys in your bag one day and I found those notes, and I knew you were in serious trouble. Since then I’ve been looking into it and trying to find something that the police might have missed. Anything. I wanted to talk to you about it, I really did, but I was so scared that you’d get hurt. So I didn’t say anything. It’s been terrifying. And then when I knew that the police were looking for you today, and I figured out where you were, I thought we could actually talk this through, work out what the hell is going on. There doesn’t seem to be much to lose any more.’

  I dropped my head into my hands, elbows balanced on my knees, desperately trying to sieve through Jason’s words to find the truth.

  ‘But …’ I managed finally. ‘The man down at the river near your work …’

  ‘Oh, you did see that,’ he said, a half-smile on his face. ‘I thought you might have. But why were you following me?’

  I stared at my trembling hands, wishing I could just disappear, too ashamed to answer, not sure of the right words, anyway. Jason spoke into the silence.

  ‘You thought I did it,’ he said, his voice breaking.

  I didn’t want to look at him, but I forced myself. It was my fault he was here, that he’d been threatened. I owed him some honesty, at least. As soon as our eyes met I hated myself. Selfish arsehole didn’t even begin to describe me.

  ‘My God, Bethany,’ he whispered, his eyes wider than I’d ever seen them. ‘You really think I could do something like that?’

  ‘No!’ I said, the confidence in my voice surprising me. ‘Of course I don’t. But I didn’t know what to think. Those notes were delivered to me inside our house, and it’s not like someone broke a window or there was any sign of a forced entry, even after I changed the locks. Plus, the way you were acting that night at dinner, and the guy with the envelope at the river … I didn’t want to believe that it could be you, but the pool of suspects is pretty small. I had to at least consider the possibility.’

  I waited for the explosion of rage. If my affair hadn’t tipped him over the edge, this was bound to.

  ‘The notes were in our house?’ he said, voice shaky.

  I nodded.

  ‘Kitchen, lounge, bedroom. While I was home. While we were asleep.’

  He leaned back in his chair wearily and after a second, responded.

  ‘This is so much worse than I thought.’

  Chapter Forty-three

  I needed to fill Jason in and by the time I’d finished telling him my side of the story, I felt heavy with guilt.

  Of course, I’d left out unnecessary particulars about Calum and me, how the affair started, and what it was that I’d just destroyed, but I didn’t skimp on any of the other details. Jason turned pale when he realised someone had been in our house, with the murder weapon, lurking over us while we slept. I watched fear settling on him, heavy and thick, and hated myself for causing it.

  I slumped into my chair, emotionally wrung out from unloading the weight of all my secrets, and watched Jason reading the notes slowly, his frown deepening.

  ‘Your turn,’ I said.

  ‘Well, at first I thought maybe Claire did it—’

  ‘Me too,’ I interrupted.

  ‘It’s always the spouse,’ he nodded. ‘But she was obviously at that charity event, so that was a dead end.’

  ‘Yeah, I gave up on her, too,’ I said. ‘Anyone else?’

  ‘Well then I thought the security team needed a closer look,’ he said. ‘I mean, I could guess why Calum went off without them, but it still struck me as weird that they let him go without knowing where he went. I mean, they’re meant to be some of the best in the world, right?’

  ‘He didn’t have to be with them,’ I said. ‘He wasn’t a prisoner, he went out without them sometimes, when he wanted some peace and quiet. And he hadn’t had any threats or crazed fans around for a while, so he felt safe.’

  ‘Right,’ said Jason. ‘But I was still suspicious. So I got my friend Chris from football – he works for a security company – to do some background checks on them.’

  ‘You told someone?’ I said, panic making my voice squeak. How many more people would be stalked, harassed, intimidated, because of me?

  ‘It’s OK, Bethany. He’s a professional, and I told him I needed the info, no questions asked, top secret. He didn’t ask. That’s who you saw that day you followed me. I told him that the whole cloak-and-dagger thing made him look like a prat, but he takes his work seriously.’

  ‘It was just background checks in the envelope?’

  ‘Yep, just some printouts, nothing sinister.’

  Usually I’d feel foolish, but I didn’t have the energy.

  ‘Was there anything interesting? They all had alibis, didn’t they?’

  ‘Well, yeah. I didn’t find anything incriminating. Not as such, but I didn’t really have any idea what I was looking for.’

  ‘So …?’

  ‘Well, then I spoke to Chris again, and I asked him if he could find out if there were any cases of stalking in the UK with links to anyone on Calum’s staff. I knew it was a long shot, but I figured that if this guy killed Calum and managed to stalk us and get away with it, this probably wasn’t the first time he’d done it.’

  ‘Did he find anything?’

  ‘I think so.’

  I closed my eyes and braced myself. Was I finally going to know who was behind all of this? I allowed myself a tiny ration of hope.

  ‘There was one guy on the security team with connections to a stalking case. But … well, it’s not a solid link.’

  ‘Who?’

  Jason looked at me

  ‘Bethany, I think Vincent killed Calum.’

  Chapter Forty-four

  Vincent, the guy who’d saved me from an embarrassing stumble on my first day on the job? The guy who knew I was upset and told me funny stories until I laughed? I shook my head.

  ‘But I thought the police had cleared him. They said they’d cleared the whole security team.’

  ‘I know. I don’t have all the answers. And as I say, it’s tenuous. Vincent’s dad had an affair with his secretary, years ago. Abandoned his wife and son. A few years later the mistress, who’d married his dad by then, started receiving letters from someone who had been stalking her. There weren’t any threats
, it was just creepy, and the cops couldn’t find any evidence to arrest or charge anyone. Vincent was brought in for questioning, although I don’t know why he was suspected, or if he even really was.’

  ‘So what happened?’

  ‘The dad died a few years after the letters began arriving. Heart attack. Then they seem to have stopped, or the stepmum just stopped reporting them.’

  My skin prickled. Maybe she’d been threatened into silence, like Jason and I had been. Exhaustion settled on me like a thick blanket. I felt completely incapable of scrutinising yet another person I cared about through the lens of suspicion. But there was a manhunt going on, centred around me, and I needed answers. I didn’t have time to worry about how I felt.

  I tried to recall what I actually knew about Vincent, aside from what I’d seen at work. It wasn’t much. He was quiet, but well liked by almost everyone on Calum’s staff. He was kind, and observant, and thoughtful. But he never spoke about his personal life.

  ‘Well, even if it was Vincent stalking his stepmother,’ I said, ‘I can kind of understand a motive there, I guess. He was angry at her for taking his dad away, or whatever. But that doesn’t make him a killer. Besides, why would he murder Calum or stalk me? Us?’

  ‘Well here’s where I’m filling in the blanks, just guesswork, if I’m honest. I can’t begin to understand the mind of someone like that, and I don’t have all the answers yet. But I’m pretty sure he had a motive to kill, in any case. I did some digging here while I was waiting for you.’

  I raised my eyebrows.

  ‘Mark helped me get into Calum’s computer—’

  ‘Seriously? What’s with him just letting you swan in here?’

  ‘Just listen,’ Jason said, glancing at his watch. ‘I had a look at Vincent’s personnel file, and guess what happened about a month before Calum was killed?’

  I glared at Jason, unwilling to play his guessing game.

  ‘He asked for a promotion. Calum turned him down. It’s the third time he’s asked now. He said that he’s more skilled than the rest of the team and deserves to be recognised.’

  ‘So you think that’s his motive?’ I asked.

  ‘Well I think it’s part of it. Don’t you get it, Bethany? He’s stalked before, he’s mad at Calum for turning down his promotion, and … well, I don’t know, but he’s clearly unhinged. Who knows if logical reasoning even comes into it with someone like him.’

  I considered what Jason was saying. There were so many holes in his theory that I wasn’t sure I could accept it as easily as he had. But Jason wasn’t the killer, and someone had to be. It couldn’t be Mark, or he’d have known what I was trying to get into the apartment for. He’d have ransacked the place to get it before I arrived, or handed me to the police. So I was back to square one. And so far, all of my investigating had led to nothing. Jason had a professional on his side. Perhaps there was merit to his theory.

  I hated that I was willing to even consider that the killer could be Vincent. But maybe there wasn’t an easy, obvious explanation for Calum’s death and the stalking. Being rejected for a better position could be enough to tip someone who was already emotionally unstable over the edge. Vincent was obviously strong, and probably knew enough about security systems to disable cameras and pick locks. I shuddered, imagining his muscular silhouette hovering over me as I slept.

  ‘Is there any evidence at all to back any of this up?’

  ‘No … not really. But we can give the personnel file and the police report from his stepmother to the detectives now. We can put it in their hands, leave it to them to get the evidence.’

  ‘I can’t go to the police,’ I said.

  ‘You can’t keep running, Bethany,’ he said gently. ‘The whole country is looking for you.’

  ‘I can if you help me.’

  ‘How? If you try to get away, you’ll be caught, and that would be so much worse than just going willingly. You know you aren’t equipped to be a fugitive, not when they have so many resources committed to finding you. Believe me, if I thought there was even the smallest chance you could stay hidden, I’d help, but you know it’s not possible. What I can do is get to the bottom of this whole mess. We have this information now. It’s not like you’re just handing yourself in with nothing to go on.’

  ‘Handing myself in? I’m not—’

  Voices drifted towards us from the hallway. I looked at Jason.

  ‘Bethany—’

  ‘Who is that, Jason?’

  ‘I’m sorry. I just did what I thought was best.’

  My head buzzed.

  ‘Haven’t you been listening? If it’s Vincent, and he knows I’ve gone to the police, what will he do?’

  ‘But you aren’t going to the police,’ he said. ‘Not technically.’

  The door opened, and the voices became louder.

  ‘In there!’

  Multiple footsteps marched against the polished wooden floor.

  I looked at Jason, his face the picture of remorse.

  ‘I’m sorry, honey, I really am. But this is the only way, trust me. And for me to get in here to see you, and to get the evidence on Vincent, I had to agree for Mark to tell the police where you were. He let us in, he believes you’re innocent, he wanted to give you a chance, but he wasn’t willing to go down for helping a wanted woman. You have to understand that.’

  He was pleading with me, his arms outstretched.

  I stared, trying to process the betrayal.

  ‘I trusted you,’ I said.

  ‘No, you didn’t,’ Jason said quietly. ‘You thought I’d killed Calum. You haven’t got a better plan, Bethany. Please. Just trust me on this. I’ve been looking out for you from the start, I never said a word. Why would I turn on you now?’

  I grasped for the right words, but my mouth felt thick, my tongue taking up far too much space.

  ‘But you have turned on me.’

  Police appeared from around the corner. It looked like an army of blue and black, as though they expected me to struggle, to be dangerous. To run.

  ‘I’ll get you out of this, I promise.’

  My heart rattled in my chest like ice in a cocktail shaker.

  A voice, I don’t know whose, shouted my name. They were closing in around me now, and all I could do was stare at Jason.

  After everything I’d been through, he was the one to turn me in. I wanted to struggle, to scream, to jerk my hands away as a strong set of fingers clamped around my wrist. But I was frozen, the struggle all imagined, my body statue-like, compliant.

  I wanted to hate Jason. Wanted him to regret his betrayal.

  I kept my gaze on him, chin up, defiant, and watched tears spill over the red rims of his eyes, then trickle down his cheeks.

  Good, I thought. Let him watch the police arrest his wife for a murder she didn’t commit, let him soak in the scene that was his doing.

  And then, all at once, something in my adrenalin-riddled brain flipped, and I remembered that this wasn’t his doing. It was all mine.

  Suddenly, all I wanted was to reach out and cling to my husband, the only real thing in this room, the only link to my old life, the one where I’d wanted nothing more than a bit of a thrill, to know what it was like to be with someone other than the only man I’d ever loved.

  I suppose this was the excitement I’d craved.

  This was my punishment.

  My reward.

  Chapter Forty-five

  ‘Bethany Reston; you’re under arrest.’

  I closed my eyes and let it happen. I was completely powerless now. And there was nothing to say.

  I let myself be led down the hallway by the officer who had cuffed me. As we passed Mark, huddled next to the security guard, I understood how we’d managed to get past him unnoticed. He was in on it, too. I tried to make eye contact, to make them acknowledge what they’d done, but they avoided my gaze, attempting to look as though the scene before them was mundane, routine.

  I tried to think clearl
y, but my head wasn’t cooperating. It was shock. And fear. Everything felt surreal, like I was watching a reality TV show unfolding before me. This wasn’t really happening to me. It couldn’t be.

  On the elevator ride down to the lobby, I stood in silence, surrounded by cops, and closed my eyes tightly.

  I knew that what Jason had just told me about Vincent wasn’t enough, but it was something. It didn’t change the fact that I was the CCTV figure the police had been looking for, but at least I was now armed with information more solid than my own denial.

  And I’d destroyed the memory card.

  Letting myself be dragged towards a car, I pictured my home, my comfortable bed, my warm kitchen, and I told myself I’d be back there soon, with this whole mess a thing of the past. Once the police knew who to look at, who to investigate, they’d find the truth. They had to.

  I was guided into the back of the police car, and as we pulled away from Bradley Enterprises I watched Jason slide out of my vision among a parade of red and blue.

  Chapter Forty-six

  My arrival was met with considerable interest; the press had forgone their Saturday night plans to capture the long-awaited arrest of the Bradley murderer. News had spread fast, so by the time I was escorted out of the car, a gaggle of photographers and journalists was there to greet me.

  ‘Mrs Reston, do you feel remorse for what you did?’

  ‘Bethany, over here!’

  There was nowhere to hide. And no way to spin the truth in my favour. Tomorrow, my face would be all over the papers again. But this time, the headlines wouldn’t be speculation over a grainy image. Emblazoned across the front pages would be close-ups of me being led into the station in handcuffs, under arrest for murder. No matter what happened now, my reputation was in tatters. But I couldn’t let myself wallow in those thoughts, not when I had to convince the police that I was innocent.

  Through retina-burning flashes I was escorted into the station and straight to a processing room. There I was searched and the few items I had on me – my watch, scarf, belt, an almost-empty handbag and chewing gum – were confiscated. I skim-read the Police Codes of Practice. I couldn’t concentrate. All I could think about was when I’d have a chance to explain myself. Fingerprints were inked, photos were taken and a cotton swab was swiped inside my mouth.