Love You to Death: An Absolutely Gripping Thriller with a Killer Twist

by Caroline Mitchell

  ‘Wait. Don’t leave it like this.’ His words were filled with instant regret. She was the only person that was ever afforded such a luxury. His temper was quick, and she knew violence was just one of the tools he was forced to use to keep ahead of the game. But it was something he rarely allowed her to witness. The most he had ever afforded her was a flash of anger, some hurtful words, but he had never raised a hand.

  Ruby sighed. She didn’t want it to end like this either. Her voice softened. ‘I hoped that the break would make you come around, leave it all behind and start a clean slate. But you can’t, can you? You thrive on the power, the control. Your dad is controlling you now, even from beyond the grave.’

  ‘I told you before: don’t mention that bastard to me again.’

  Ruby turned to look out the window. The streets of London were once their playground, but they’d been on different sides of the fence for a long time now. She turned to face him, wishing she could change his mind. ‘Don’t you see? We have history. I’ll never have that with anyone else in my lifetime and neither will you. We could be so good together… but it’s never going to work. Because we’re always looking over our shoulder. The only way we can do it is if you turn your back on everything and start again. And I know you’re not ready to do that.’

  Nathan shook his head. ‘You don’t just walk away from this way of life. I know too much. I wouldn’t last a week out there.’

  Ruby took a step towards him, her eyes searching his face. ‘Then why don’t we both leave? Just run away somewhere, disappear from the landscape.’

  ‘You’d do that for me? Give up everything?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘As long as you did the same.’

  ‘I know you. You’d resent having to leave your job, and you’d never abandon your mum.’

  Mum. Ruby imagined Joy sitting alone, with nobody to visit her. She sighed. Nathan was right. ‘Then I guess we should call it a day.’

  Ruby’s hand fell away from his, and her heart broke all over again as she realised he was not going to stop her.

  ‘It’s not that I don’t… I mean, I do… ’ Nathan swallowed hard, the words backed up in his throat. Declarations of love did not come easy for him, and right now, Ruby was fine with that because it hurt too much to hear them.

  ‘I know,’ she said, inhaling a deep breath. ‘Shame it’s not enough to keep us together.’ Swiping away her tears, she turned and walked away.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Lucy was feeling as light as a breeze today. She giggled, pressing her hand to her mouth as the sound echoed around the confines of her car. The basement was waiting, all ready to welcome her next guest. Her dress, boots and white cotton smock were washed, pressed and laid out on her bed. She cast her eyes over her gloves; they were especially made, just like the rest of her outfit, and she could not wait to put them on. Everything was ready for when she could go to her special place.

  She shrank back in her seat as the professional-looking woman shoved a key in the lock of the house across the road.

  It was a lovely house, far nicer than the last place she had been to, and had encouraged her to dress in a style more fitting to her new mother. Monica had a well-paid job, drove a nice car, and liked to wear designer clothes. So Lucy had bought herself a Karen Millen suit, with designer heels to match. Monica was tall, about five foot ten, but Lucy’s heels afforded her a generous enough height to convince her mother that she really was her adopted daughter. After all, if you gave up a child for adoption all those years ago and she came knocking on your door, would you really doubt what she had to say?

  Lucy touched her long dark locks, checking them in the mirror. It was real hair, not that cheap synthetic stuff. The cap itched like hell though, and the warm weather made her scalp sweat. She took a deep breath before opening the car door. The most important thing was to appear confident. Just be the daughter she wants you to be, Lucy thought as she walked towards the townhouse. Monica’s husband had a well-paid job in the city. But there was no room for men in the happy ever after that Lucy had planned. Her father figures had caused Lucy nothing but pain. Such a beautiful house, Lucy thought – certainly no shortage of money there. So why hadn’t her mother got in touch? She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to relax as she pressed the doorbell. There was no point in getting upset about it now. Monica would have lots of time to explain.

  Lucy did not expect the clamour of a dog from inside the hall. It must be a new addition. She hated dogs. They got in the way and nipped at your heels. She was never allowed any dogs in the foster homes she stayed in, which was just as well, or they would have been beaten to a pulp. But the one in the hallway of Monica’s home sounded like one of these spoilt little designer dogs, which were probably treated far better than she ever had been. Lucy managed to keep calm as a shadow filled the doorway.

  Monica looked even more glamorous up close. Her wavy brown hair had been perfectly styled, and she had definitely had her teeth fixed, maybe even a little Botox around the eyes. The soft ivory blouse clung to her curves, and the pencil skirt accentuated her hips. She was wearing just enough make-up to complement her flawless skin, but not too much that it aged her. The woman looked Lucy up and down, returning her gaze as she spoke. ‘Yes?’

  Lucy realised that she had been staring. But given this was the first time she was about to speak to her mother she felt it acceptable. ‘Are you Monica Sherwood?’ Lucy said, trying to sound nervous. People generally preferred if you were meek, subservient. She had learned from experience that it helped keep the situation calm.

  ‘Yes, what can I do for you?’ she said, perhaps affording Lucy a little more respect because she was so well-dressed.

  ‘My name is Lucy. I’m your daughter.’

  It was Monica’s turn to stare open-mouthed now, and Lucy was ready to take the helm. ‘Can I come in? We need to talk.’ That was the understatement of the century, Lucy thought, as Monica cautiously allowed her inside.

  She glanced past Lucy at the neighbouring houses: probably checking to see if they had noticed her arrival.

  ‘I… I don’t know what to say,’ Monica said, her hand touching her bottom lip. ‘I’ve thought about this moment since you turned eighteen,’ she gave a small gasp as if somebody had punched her in the stomach, ‘but I… I never imagined it like this… ’

  She seemed to go weak at the knees, and Lucy caught her arm and led her into a room on the right. It was tastefully decorated with cream furnishings and tasteful prints embellished the walls. Lucy scanned the fireplace for family photos, reassured there were no additions since her last visit. A surge of happiness grew inside her. If she had no brats to contend with, then it was all the more attention for her.

  I’ve come home, Lucy thought. At last, I’m home.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  It took every ounce of Nathan’s strength not to stop Ruby as she walked away. Coming to this decision had not been easy, and he could not back out now. Giving her the flat was meant to be a final gift; a gesture of thanks for everything her family had done for his. But there was much more to it than that, and he was kidding himself if he thought otherwise.

  Ruby was his biggest addiction, and in his fantasy world, where everything was black and white, they could be together without holding back. But as long as she was in the police then it wasn’t going to happen. Their relationship veered from painful separations to brief lust fuelled reunions, when all he wanted was for them to settle down. His father would turn in his grave if he knew. The thought gave Nathan a certain satisfaction. He had come across some nasty fuckers in his lifetime, but nobody matched up to his old man, and he hated him with a passion. He couldn’t believe it when his mother cried at his funeral. Not just crocodile tears, either. She was inconsolable. His brother, Lenny, was seventeen then and refused to attend. Nathan went for two reasons: firstly, to support his mother, and secondly so he could make sure the bastard really was dead. He had waited a long time for that day, and volunteered to
help fill the grave afterwards. Injecting his anger into each shovelful of clay, he had enjoyed the satisfying thump as soil hit the expensive oak coffin. Not that Jimmy Crosby had the common decency to stay in the ground. Even now he haunted his son’s thoughts, orchestrating his lifestyle, calling him weak as he spat in his face.

  His father’s words echoed in his mind as he watched Ruby leave. ‘She’s only a bird. Plenty more where that came from.’

  It felt like the sky had fallen – the day his father died. He should have been relieved, but Nathan spent the day in shock. Jimmy was untouchable, and even in prison he had carried on his regime of terror. Nathan had learned to overpower his larger-than-life memory by claiming the family business for his own. Nobody liked his father, but they respected him, and after he died it was all up for grabs. Under the guidance of his mother he learned the ropes, modernising it until it was a sleek money-making machine. Gone were the drug-addled Toms, porno movies and seedy massage parlours. In their place were top class online escorts and a personal delivery service of class A cocaine. Racketeering was old and outdated, and there was no need to rob banks when you could get your hands on exceptional quality coke. Nathan was making too much money to need the protection racket and sold it on to a smaller firm. Nathan was a businessman; his only interest in organising the shifting of the product from A to B and making a healthy profit in return.

  Lenny had had to pull some nasty stunts to keep them on top of the food chain, but their future was secured, and there was no need for any of that gangland shit anymore. They had made enough money now to buy themselves anonymity. But there was something about the violence that Lenny craved, and in the two weeks since his release from prison, he had lost his head. It didn’t matter how many times Nathan told him to keep a low profile, he didn’t seem to care. It wasn’t that Lenny was a big bloke either, but it was that look in his eye – a twinkle of madness, his confident swagger – that told people he wasn’t to be messed with. His mates would laugh and joke with him, but never stopped being on their guard. Lenny could turn in a second, and he was always tooled up. One minute he’d be laughing, and the next he’d be holding a knife to your face.

  It was another reason he and Ruby were better off apart. As much as they were indebted to her and her family, Lenny had always looked at her with an intensity that was cause for concern. A mixture of lust and hatred was not a good cocktail. But Nathan couldn’t just let her go.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  ‘Detective Preston, hold on there a minute, I need to speak to you,’

  The wind whipped away the voice but Ruby knew it belonged to Helen Phifer, the young journalist fresh to their patch. She sped up, painfully aware of the blister which was now forming, thanks to those bloody heels she wore last night. Why she thought it was a good idea to slip her feet into them today was anyone’s guess. Ruby grappled with her door tag, pretending not to hear the young woman calling her name. Stumbling in her haste, she dropped the lanyard on the path. A small hand with red painted nails stretched forward to pick it up.

  ‘Here,’ Helen panted, ‘I was calling; you mustn’t have heard me.’

  Ruby smiled at her optimism. She reminded herself that the girl was young enough to be her daughter and decided to give her a break. She was usually pleasant, a bit ferrety-looking, shiny brown hair, dark beady eyes set too close together.

  ‘Thank you,’ Ruby replied, as Helen pressed the fob into her palm. ‘Now if you don’t mind I need to get into work and take these awful shoes off, they’re killing me.’

  ‘Can you spare me five minutes? There’s something important I need to talk to you about.’

  Ruby hesitated, but Helen’s next words won her over.

  ‘It’s to do with the case you’re investigating.’

  ‘OK, five minutes. But not here.’

  * * *

  The Shepherdess Café on City Road was Ruby’s favourite greasy spoon. Strip lighting, shiny tables and old-fashioned sauce bottles made her feel at home, while the smell of freshly cooked bacon and sausages made her stomach rumble. She winced as she eased off her shoes from under the table.

  ‘I’m never wearing those torture devices again. From now on it’s loafers all the way.’

  Helen smiled, stirring her coffee. ‘I can’t imagine you in loafers.’

  ‘Oh yeah, I have a whole wardrobe of them,’ Ruby lied. ‘Beige ones, with little tassels on the front. They go with my twin set and pearls.’ Ruby remembered who she was speaking to and checked her watch. ‘Anyway, you’ve got four minutes left so make it quick.’

  Helen raised her bottom from the seat to take a piece of paper from the back pocket of her jeans. ‘I printed off this email. I wasn’t sure what to make of it at first, but then I thought of your case and wondered if there was a connection.’

  Forgetting all about her sore feet, Ruby unfolded the copier paper and smoothed it on the table.

  ‘Dear Helen.

  Detective Ruby Preston (RIP) is sleeping with gangster Nathan Crosby and DI Jack Downes. Disgusting behaviour from a MET police officer. The public needs to know.

  Lucy’

  Ruby paled with each word she read, and a sick feeling overcame her. Steadying her breath, she returned her gaze. ‘Utter rubbish,’ she said, the break in her voice denying the strength of her conviction. She was rattled and she could not hide it.

  ‘Of course, that’s what I thought. I mean, what’s with that whole “RIP” business? It’s obviously someone you’ve rubbed up the wrong way.’ Helen looked at her watch and her forehead creased. ‘I’d love to chat, but I think our four minutes are up.’

  Ruby shot her hand across the table and dug her nails into Helen’s wrist. ‘Don’t play games with me, girl. What do you want?’

  Helen shrank back, looking every inch of her twenty years. ‘Oh, I… I’m sorry. I just wanted your attention.’

  Ruby released her grip. ‘Why? We both know you can’t print that information. It’s slander.’

  ‘I thought we could work together. See what else this Lucy has to say.’

  Ruby inhaled a long, deep sigh. ‘What do you know about Lucy?’

  ‘Word is that she’s your prime suspect for the murder of Harry Edmonds and his wife,’ Helen said, her eyes wide with excitement. ‘If I could open a line of communication, maybe I could get a scoop after you catch her. What about that?’

  So this was what it was all about. Their meeting was not a ploy to blackmail, but a young girl under pressure to produce a news story. Ruby felt a pang of sympathy.

  ‘Honey, if we arrest her and have enough evidence to charge then you’re definitely getting your scoop.’

  Helen beamed. ‘Good. Then I’ll keep my ear to the ground. Do you have anything you can give me in the meantime?’

  Ruby pushed her hand into her pocket and slid out a business card. ‘Give me a ring at nine tonight, and I’ll see if I can give you the official line on it. That should keep you going.’

  ‘Really? Cool. Maybe we could do this all the time.’

  Ruby rose from the table. Plucking a pen from her breast pocket, she began to scribble on the back of the card. ‘This is my personal email address. Forward the email and any others you receive to me. Then delete them from your email account, your sent box and your deleted items. Don’t attempt to communicate with this individual. Most likely it’s some nut. We can’t take any chances. Oh and Helen? We didn’t have this conversation. You get me?’

  ‘But… ’ Helen said, following her onto the street.

  ‘No buts. Leave it in the hands of the police.’ Except Ruby had no intention of reporting it to the police. At least, not yet.

  * * *

  The folded paper burned a hole in her pocket as she sat through briefing justifying her reasons for staying quiet. It’s a random accusation by some nutter, that’s all. Happens every time a high profile case hits the press. And as for signing it ‘Lucy’? People talked. Emily could have confided in a neighbour. But it was the full
stop after the salutation that got her. The same full stop that drew her in on the original letters to the murder victim, Emily Edmonds. Was it a grammatical error or set up to grab her attention? If it was the latter, it meant there was more to come. Ruby did not hop from Nathan’s bed into Jack’s as the email implied, but her relationship with the two men was the last thing she wanted publicised to the world.

  And the ‘RIP’? Ruby shuddered. Lucy was watching her. And she wanted her attention. By the end of briefing she had it all figured out. She would follow up on the email privately, using a computer techy to investigate its origin. In the end, it came down to a choice of two people: Nathan or Luddy. Neither were ideal, but both were trustworthy.

  Yet still… the name prickled her senses. Surely it could not be the Lucy she knew. Not after all these years.

  * * *

  The press appeal was held that afternoon. Jack sat next to DCI Worrow as she appealed directly to the woman who had identified herself as ‘Lucy’ to come forward. She widened her appeal to friends, family, and members of the public to get in touch with any concerns they may have. Ruby sighed. Soon they would go from having minimal information to being deluged with it. Their caseloads were at breaking point as it was. But it was the same story across the board, and nobody could spare the extra resources to give them a dig out.

  They failed to mention the possibility of an adopted daughter. It would have made a great human interest story, but it was too early to say just what was going on with this case.

  Hunched under the glare of the cameras, Jack looked exhausted, his suit creased, the knot on his burgundy tie bunched to one side. Ruby had surprised herself by getting a decent night’s sleep, but as she was drifting off she thought of the meeting with Nathan earlier in the day. She loved the new flat. It was perfect for her: close to work, in a nice, safe area, and very secure. But she could not be indebted to him. She had thought about returning the keys when something stopped her. She pushed them deep in her handbag, just in case the time arose when she needed a safe haven.