The Sacrifice
Page 12
“Security guard?”
“There was so much blood when they killed him.”
“They? They who? You mean the man in the Timberlands, right?”
The witness shook his head. “The old couple. They were already dead, you know.”
Billy waited a moment. Nothing this guy said made any sense, and he himself needed to get inside the hospital to search for Eliza. “What happened afterwards? Where did the man in the Timberlands go? Did he leave?”
The young man shook his head again. “He went to the fire exit. I saw him go down the stairs before the door slammed shut.”
Billy stood and patted the guy on the shoulder. “You’ve done real good. I’m gonna get a medic over here for you, okay?” Now Billy needed to get inside the hospital more than ever. He saw George off to the right, preoccupied with a hysterical young woman who couldn’t find her daughter.
“I saw him again,” the witness said. “He left with a girl,”
Billy stopped in his tracks, and turned. “What girl?”
“A brunette.”
“Nurse or a patient?”
The man shrugged. “She wasn’t dressed like either. Wore jeans and a top.”
Billy knelt beside him again. “Was she okay?”
The man shrugged. “I don’t think she was awake. The guy carried her. She was covered in blood, too. No shoes on her feet.”
“Where did he go with her?”
“Out the front door.”
Billy waited for more information, but the man didn’t volunteer any. “And?”
“I don’t know. I just hid.” A few more tears fell from the man’s eyes. “I should have helped her.”
Yes, you should have. “No, you did the right thing.” Billy stood. Dr. Bob climbed out from the back of the ambulance, and Billy whistled and waved him over. He turned back to the man. “This doctor is going to help you now.”
Billy’s mobile vibrated. He still held it in his hand, and answered. “Yeah?”
“It’s Linda from the lab. You wanted to know if the sat-nav from the car that crashed on Old Brewers Road had any information on it?”
“Yeah, but now’s not a good time.”
“Is there ever a good time? There was nothing on the sat-nav.”
“You phoned to tell me you have nothing to tell me?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“The map app on his mobile. Movements for the last week, in fact.”
“I’m only interested in just before the crash. Just email any info through to me. I’ll deal with it later.”
“I think you’ll want to deal with it now. Seems your dead guy had just left Moneyready Road in Fowey. Your father’s place, to be exact.”
“What? Are you sure?”
“I’m always sure.”
Billy paused. What the hell was his father up to?
“Billy?”
“Yeah, Linda, I’m still here.”
“I’ll send the info through. Just thought you’d want a heads-up first.” She hung up.
A hundred thoughts raced Billy’s mind. His father was a slippery son of a bitch, but involved in murder? Then again, why not? Billy already suspected him of his mother’s death. And Eliza? Could he be involved in his own daughter’s kidnapping? Shit. This was his own father, for crying out loud. He redialled main division. “I have a missing person, last seen Looe Hospital.”
Billy spilled out a description of Eliza. When he finished, he hung up and ran over to George. “The man who did this took Eliza.”
George turned from the woman he was trying to console. The mother didn’t stop her hysteria, and George took her arm, a show of reassurance that he was still listening. “Billy, what are you talking about?”
“Our witness over there saw a guy leave with Eliza.”
“Leave? As in they were together?”
“No, I mean leave as in he carried her unconscious body out the front door. I’ve just called it in.” Billy turned to leave.
George stopped him. “Where’re you going?”
“Lab just phoned me. The dead guy from our car crash was last at my father’s place.”
“They said that?”
“Yep.” Billy pointed to the witness. “And he just described seeing a man wearing Timberlands and a baseball cap, carrying Eliza from the hospital. Earlier, Eliza told me that a guy wearing Timberlands and a baseball cap was at her house. I then followed a guy wearing Timberlands and a bloody baseball cap to a house where I found my father’s address written on a piece of paper.”
George frowned. “And why the hell is this the first I’m hearing about it?”
“I needed to be sure. My dad’s up to something, I know it.” Billy waited for George to respond. When he didn’t, Billy said, “I need to go and ask him some questions.”
“No.”
“Fine, then I need to let him know his daughter is missing.”
George cracked his neck and rearranged his collar. “Okay.”
Billy opened his car door and had one leg already inside when George stopped him.
“I haven’t finished,” George said. “You go see your dad, but only to inform him of Eliza’s disappearance. You’re too close to this, Billy. If I get him chewing my arse off later because you’ve overstepped the line, you’ll be on desk duty for the next six months.”
Billy started to protest, but George cut him off. “It isn’t up for discussion. Missing daughter only.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The smell of rotting food was the first thing Eliza sensed.
Then the barely audible chitchat of a radio.
She opened her eyes, her head drowsy and muddled, but she didn’t move. Crouched several metres away, on the other side of the small cabin, was Roman. He didn’t seem to notice her wake, his attention held by the patter of a rat as it took what was probably its daily route along the unpainted skirting board. Roman peered from under the brim of his cap, took aim, and fired the smooth and perfectly formed pebble he’d been toying with. It hit the rodent, who squealed and scurried to safety through a tiny gap beneath the broken fridge. Roman picked up another pebble, seemingly to wait for the rat to re-emerge. When it didn’t, he scratched his chin and appeared to look for something else to keep him amused.
Through the moth-eaten curtain, which hung in tatters across the window, Eliza could see nothing but darkness outside. Rain pelted against the corrugated roof, making it hard to hear, and water trickled through rusted holes, soaking the dirty floor and periodically splashing her face. But still, Eliza didn’t move. If this man was as bored as he looked, she sure as hell didn’t want to give him something else to play with.
An overturned chair lay beside a decrepit, paint-chipped table. Roman stood the chair upright and straddled it. He glanced at his filthy Timberlands, muttered a string of obscenities Eliza couldn’t quite make out, and grabbed a filthy old rag from the table. Shaking off dried leaves and debris, he began to wipe away what dirt he could. Mud smeared across the suede, and a look of annoyance creased his forehead. He threw the rag to the floor just as the rat reappeared by the fridge. Roman’s fingers tightened around the pebble, and he slowly lifted his hand, ready to fire the next round. The furry rodent scurried out a foot or two then paused, as though aware of the impending danger. His whiskers twitched and, without warning, he darted back inside the hole. Roman’s hand remained poised, and a determined scowl creased his brow. He looked like he really wanted to knock that rat’s furry little nose right off his furry little head. Maybe that’s what he had planned for Eliza.
At that thought, every bone in Eliza’s body screamed for her to remain still, and as much as the nagging voice inside her head agreed, reason also told her she had to look for a way out. She slowly craned her neck just enough to view the rest of the cabin, but without drawing the attention of her captor. If she could just locate the door, maybe she could make a run for it.
Eliza paused. Goosebumps pricked her skin at the mere sound of his voice.
“You’re not going to give me any problems, are you?”
Eliza shook her head just enough to send the message. “Where am I?”
“Bodmin Moor.”
“Your place?”
Roman grinned and flicked the pebble across the room, now not seeming to aim at anything in particular. “Does this look like the kind of shit-hole I’d usually hang out in?”
“Are you going to kill me?”
Roman relaxed his arms around the chair and drummed his fingers on the back of it. “That’s a strange question.”
“Is it one you’re going to answer?” A water droplet trickled down the side of Eliza’s face and soaked into the neckline of a shirt she didn’t recognise. When she tried to wipe it away, her stomach tightened with pain and she found she couldn’t move her hands.
“I am not going to kill you.”
Eliza didn’t believe him. “But something is trying to, right?’
“Yes.”
Eliza tried again to bring her hand around to her front, but realised they’d been tied behind her.
“It’s just a precaution,” Roman said, getting up from the chair. He crossed the room in four strides, and knelt beside her. “Are you aware that I have now saved you three times in two days?”
“And yet here I am tied up.”
Another droplet splashed from the puddle beside her and hit her forehead, the bobble of water holding position for a second or two before trickling the same path as its predecessor. Roman watched it too, and just before it touched her jawline, he reached towards her face. Eliza turned her head and closed her eyes, flinching when she felt his thumb gently wipe the droplet away.
His fingers cradled her chin, and he tilted her head back to face him. “Would you like to get up off this floor?”
Eliza nodded, wincing when he hooked her under the arm and hauled her to her feet.
With her legs also bound, Eliza could move no faster than a snail’s pace, and it soon became obvious that patience was not one of Roman’s strong points. He searched around, kicked a chair out from under the table, and plonked her down.
“Who are you?” Eliza said, still struggling to free her hands.
Roman shook two JPS cigarettes from a pack, slipped them both between his lips, and lit them. He removed one and held it out towards her. When Eliza declined his offer, he shrugged and dropped it to the floor. “I’ve already told you.”
“Why am I here?”
“Because if you were at the hospital, you’d be dead.”
“Why have you been following me?”
“Because without you, I don’t get what I want.” Smoke curled from Roman’s mouth, and he took a second drag.
“What is it you want?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“You’ve given me good reason to.” The ties around her wrists would not loosen, and Eliza relaxed her arms, allowing a moment for the soreness in her shoulders to dull. Over his shoulder, Eliza saw the door. If she could just get free.
“I watched you die.”
Roman studied her. He rubbed the bristle around his chin and pushed his hat up off his face.
“I wasn’t wrong about that, was I?”
Roman stiffened. He puffed on the cigarette and remained quiet until Eliza thought he would never answer. Finally, he said, “Here, drink some of this.” He held a bottle of Evian to her lips.
“Will it kill me?”
He swigged down a mouthful himself, then put the bottle back to her mouth. “Satisfied?”
Hardly. But Eliza’s throat was so dry she didn’t see she had any other option. Cautiously, she parted her lips and slowly drank the liquid, a miniscule amount trickling down the side of her chin.
Roman watched, not once looking away. He held the neck of the bottle close for maybe ten more seconds, then re-screwed the lid and put it down beside the chair. “You’re leverage.”
“Leverage?”
Roman took a long drag on his cigarette and eyed her.
“So, what? You’re ransoming me?”
“Call it what you want. Your father’s butler—”
“Davis? He’s like a hundred years old.”
“He’s a devious little bastard.”
“And because of that, you kidnapped me?”
“Because of that?” Behind Roman, grime-covered plates littered the table. Cobwebs clung to blunt knives and dusty glassware, and bluebottle flies swarmed a maggot-infested squirrel. Roman pushed the dead animal away, and sat on the corner of the table. It creaked under his weight. “I guess so. Yes”
Panic took hold. Eliza twisted in her seat and pulled at her binds. Her stomach once again cramped with pain and she cried out.
“You cut your stomach. Remember?”
She glanced down. Noticed the unfamiliar shirt. “Why have you changed my T-shirt?”
“The last one had your blood all over it.”
“What is so important about my blood? Why do I need saving? What’s after me?”
When it was clear he wasn’t going to answer, Eliza said, “How can you be alive?”
Roman dragged on his cigarette. The end brightened and smoke masked his face as he exhaled. “You talk way too much.” He picked the old rag up off the floor. His glare hardened, maybe to try and frighten her, maybe not.
Eliza stared at the mud-covered cloth and sank back into her chair. “I’ll be quiet. I promise.”
Roman followed her gaze towards the rag, and for a second he seemed to contemplate her request. He dropped the rag and reclaimed his position against the table, crossing his arms and causing his biceps to bulge beneath the fabric of his shirt. He watched Eliza, unmoving and silent, and held the stare until Eliza broke it and turned away.
“How long do I have to stay here?”
Roman sighed. “That’s not you being quiet.”
“My father will pay you whatever you want, you know.”
“Your father is a rich man who don’t know shit about what’s going on around him.” A lone maggot wriggled beside him and he flicked it away, catapulting it into the air. It landed by Eliza’s foot, and only when it started to crawl back towards his own boot did Roman step forward and squash it into the rotting floorboards. “My turn to ask a question. At your house, why didn’t you run when you had the chance?”
“Is this a trick?”
“Is that you asking me another question?”
“But I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“Would it sound better if I asked it in French?”
“What? What kind of question is that? Who the hell are you?” Anger exploded, and Eliza pulled on her restraints. She felt them loosen slightly and thrashed harder. “Just let me the hell out of here.”
Roman remained quiet, his arms still crossed, his glare never leaving her.
Eliza struggled until the energy drained from her body. The restraints didn’t loosen any further, and her shoulders sagged. The rope around her wrists chafed her skin, her attempt at freeing herself having no impact whatsoever. She glanced up, not bothering to conceal her sense of defeat. “If I answer your question, will you answer mine and tell me how you can be alive, and what it is you reckon Davis is doing to you?”
“That’s two questions.”
The anger Eliza had thought gone resurfaced, and erupted like a volcano. “Then ask me two and we’ll call it even,” she yelled, tugging at the restraints more vigorously than before. The chair legs left the floor, and she crashed to the ground.
“Are you finished?”
Eliza lay on her side, tears overflowing, wrists and ankles still bound, her body totally exhausted. “Please let me go.”
Roman took the cigarette from between his lip
s and stubbed it out on the table. “Why didn’t you run from your house?”
“I don’t know. Because I’m stupid.”
Roman pushed himself away from the table. He bent down and took hold of the chair, lifting Eliza until she sat upright again. Strands of hair fell across her face and into her eyes, hampering her view when Roman knelt in front of her.
He stroked the stray hair away from her eyes, his fingertips lingering against her cheek. The slight stench of tobacco scented his warm breath when he spoke. “You’ve put me in an awkward position and it’s causing me the biggest arse-ache ever.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
Roman paused, seemed to realise he still stroked her face, and swiftly returned to the table. He took a mouthful of water and swallowed it. “The old man wants you dead.”
“Davis? Don’t be—”
“If I hand you over to him, you will die. If I don’t, then I don’t get what I want…And that ain’t gonna happen.”
“Davis loves me. I’ve known him since I was a child.”
“He’s going to sacrifice you.”
Roman’s gaze fixated on her, his blue eyes soft and filled with pain, and although Eliza wanted to look away, she couldn’t.
“You’re insane,” she said, twisting her tied wrists to gain further movement. The knot unravelled and the rope slipped free, her fingers catching it before it fell to the floor. Roman swigged from the water bottle, oblivious to her imminent escape. Eliza glanced at the rope securing her ankles. It was much slacker and didn’t look a problem to untie. Dried blood covered her cold feet, and dirt and other unknown crap wedged deep beneath her toenails. They looked how she’d imagine a shoeless soldier’s to look after having walked a mile or two through the trenches.
Her heartbeat quickened and she scanned the room. There must be something she missed before, something that could cause a distraction and aid her in her escape. She wanted to feel her fingers tingle. She wanted the movie reel inside her head to begin playing. She wanted a way to—
“Don’t waste your time trying to use your telekinesis. It doesn’t work on me.”
“You know what happened to me back at the house?”
Roman merely stared at her, a cocky smirk etched across his lips.