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

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Love You to Death: An Absolutely Gripping Thriller with a Killer Twist Page 23

by Caroline Mitchell


  ‘What do you want?’ Lucy said, her voice flat.

  ‘I need you to tell me where Sophie is.’

  ‘She’s asleep upstairs.’

  ‘Good girl. Now we have an exciting adventure ahead, don’t we?’

  Lucy nodded; a slow bob of the head, her eyes uncertain.

  ‘But it needs to be just you and me, nobody else, right?’ Anita said.

  Lucy nodded faster this time. ‘You want me to get rid of Sophie?’ She flashed a smile as if she had just been waiting for permission all along.

  Anita cleared her throat, feeling as if she was drowning on the inside. ‘No. I need you to see that she’s returned home safely to her father. She’s just a little girl, just like you, and we don’t want anything bad to happen to her now, do we? If Sophie gets hurt, then the police will be looking for us and we’d be all over the television and in newspapers in all the countries. But if she is returned home I could write a letter saying I’m safe and I want to be left alone. Do you understand what I mean?’

  ‘So you want me to take Sophie back home alive?’

  ‘Yes. Then we’ll be free to start again. And how exciting would that be? Because that’s what you want, isn’t it?’

  ‘I guess I could do that. But there’s something we have to do first. You have to pass the test. If you don’t pass the test, then you’re not my mother.’

  Anita’s stomach grumbled. All she’d had to sustain her was a glass of water, which brought with it the understanding that if she’d had nothing to eat then neither had Sophie. Was she still under the influence of the same drugs that made their capture possible? Anita realised that Lucy was staring at her. Fists clenched, they rested on the hips of that ridiculous outfit. She looked like a reject from Oliver Twist. ‘Oh I do hope I pass,’ Anita said, grateful she couldn’t read her mind. ‘I’ve got my hopes up now. I can’t imagine us not being together.’ She considered asking Lucy to untie her, allow her to speak to her daughter. But slowly, slowly, catchy monkey. Her senses told her to take things gradually. Lucy could change with the click of a finger, and she had made it quite clear that the other women had met a bad end. There was no doubt that this was a life-and-death situation. All she wanted was for Sophie to be returned home, safe and well.

  ‘Do you like Christmas?’ Lucy said, her face illuminated by the flashing lights on the tree.

  ‘It’s my favourite time of the year,’ Anita replied, hoping it was the right answer.

  ‘And do you like my clothes? Strike a chord, do they?’

  ‘They’re beautiful. I have seen them before but… ’ Anita paused, wracking her brains for the answer. The Victorian clothes, the Christmas tree, and the music box she left on the shelf. She had recognised something about her. ‘Silly me. Can you help?’

  Lucy shook her head. ‘I’m going to play my music box. Perhaps that will jog your memory.’

  Anita nodded. ‘Can I please use the toilet? It’s just that… ’

  ‘Not yet. It’s time. First the music. Then you’ll know what to do. If you’re my true mother, that is.’

  As Lucy wound the music box, Anita felt as if she were part of a macabre bedtime story, being tested for her worthiness like ‘The Princess and the Pea’. Only in this case, her life was hanging by a very fine thread.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  Ruby stared at the phone number, kicking herself for missing the call. It was not one she recognised, yet the recording of the young woman’s voice left her in no doubt. It was Lucy – and she was trying to get in touch. Lenny had promised he would find her. Had he passed her phone number on? Ruby played the message back a second time. Silence fell as the answering machine picked up, followed by a resigned sigh: ‘This was a bad idea,’ the caller said, before ending the call.

  Immediately she dialled the number. Her heart cranked up a notch in her chest as she waited for an answer. After six rings she was about to hang up when an unsteady voice came on the line. Ruby gripped the phone tightly to her ear, trying to distinguish its owner.

  ‘Hello?’ The voice was frail, but far from young and Ruby wondered if she had misdialled.

  ‘This is Ruby Preston,’ she said authoritatively. ‘With whom am I speaking?’

  ‘Hello?’ the voice repeated.

  Ruby tutted, wondering if it was one of those daft answer machines that played a trick on you by pretending to answer the phone. ‘Is there anyone there?’

  ‘Hello? Ruby? Is that you?’ the woman responded.

  Ruby’s heart faltered as recognition kicked in. Surely not? How could it be? She took a deep breath. ‘Mum? Is… that you?’

  ‘Yes, dear. Why are you calling? Have you lost your phone?’

  Ruby rubbed her forehead as she tried to clear the confusion. Where was her mother? Was she still at the home? And if so, why was she answering the mobile phone that had just called? ‘Have you got a visitor?’ Ruby said, her heart racing. It was the only plausible explanation she could think of. Either she was on someone else’s phone, or her mother had been kidnapped. She prayed Joy’s lucid phase would continue long enough to answer her questions. Pushing her hand in her pocket, she pulled out a set of car keys. She needed to get to Oakwood to find out what was going on.

  By the time Ruby got to the car, all she could hear was the background noise of teacups rattling on a tray and the familiar sound of the inoffensive television programmes that played on a loop in the home, Countryfile being a particular favourite.

  A muffled noise erupted as the phone seemed to switch hands, and the call was abruptly brought to an end. Swearing under her breath, Ruby redialled the number, but was rewarded with the deadening tone of a phone that was switched off. But she knew the number of Oakwood off by heart. Her nails tapped on the steering wheel as she willed staff to pick up the phone. It felt like a lifetime to Ruby, and at last, a woman’s voice chanted on the other end. ‘Hello Oakwood Care Home, how can I help you?’

  Ruby was less gracious with her response, but her abruptness was fuelled only by concern. ‘This is Ruby, Joy Preston’s daughter. Can you tell me if she has a visitor with her? I’m on my way over, but I’ve had a strange call from a mobile phone. Mum was on the other end.’

  It was a slight fib, but Ruby did not have time to go into details of how she came across the number.

  ‘Oh, I don’t recall Joy having any visitors, but I’ll go and check,’ the woman responded.

  Ruby set her phone to hands-free and allowed it to echo through the speakers of the car as she drove. It had not occurred to her to tell her colleagues where she was going, because she was too wrapped up worrying about Joy. Was it really Lucy’s phone number she had just dialled? And if so, what were her intentions towards her mum? Ruby felt jittery as the staff member’s voice boomed through the speakers. She grasped for the button to turn down the volume.

  ‘Hello again, dear, there’s nobody with Joy now. I’ve checked the visitor’s book and as I thought there’s nobody signed in for a visit, but… ’

  ‘Yes?’ Ruby responded, growing increasingly agitated. Visitors had to pass reception to enter and needed to know the pass code to open the second set of doors. So how did her mum have a visitor without anybody knowing?

  ‘Well, I’ve spoken to some of the other residents. They seem to think that there was a visitor with her earlier: a young lady. But they’re not there now. I’m sorry dear, but until we check the CCTV we’ve no way of knowing who it was.’

  Ruby sighed with relief. At least Joy had not been kidnapped. After recent events with the door-knocker killer anything was possible. She replayed her late-night visit from Lenny in her mind. He had threatened to pay a visit to her mother if she did anything wrong. Had she said or done something out of turn since then? What about their recent rendezvous in the car? But he had looked more than happy when she provided him with the information of the proposed raid.

  * * *

  Ruby chewed the cherry red lipstick from her bottom lip. Oakwood was not a prison. Her
mother was allowed as many visitors as she wanted. Sometimes old school friends would come, an occasional neighbour, or a distant relative. Ruby liked to keep tabs on people’s comings and goings and always checked the visitor’s book when she attended the home. Her continued acquaintance with Nathan ran the risk of Joy being a victim of a revenge attack. When the attacker could not get to the focus of their hatred their nearest and dearest became targets instead. It was why they gave each other such a wide berth in public. And God knows she had made enough enemies in her own job. She would be speaking to management about this. If they did not tighten up their security she would have to think about moving her mother elsewhere. But Joy was settled at Oakwood, and she did not want to put her through the distress of a new environment.

  * * *

  After questioning her mother the identity of a visitor was discovered; the same description as her suspect: slim, dark haired, with sunglasses shielding her face. A woman who went to the toilet and left her mobile phone behind. By some miracle, Joy had answered the call. This was usually beyond her capabilities; phone calls only served to confuse her. But today Ruby had been in luck. When her visitor discovered Joy on her phone she snatched it from her grasp and wasted no time in leaving.

  CCTV revealed a figure entering the home behind a large family; a good disguise for someone who didn’t want to sign in. Upon leaving, all Ruby could see was the same dark-haired figure cloaked by a delivery man as he made his exit. That was someone who was aware of CCTV and how it worked, and they had bypassed the door code by tailgating someone on the way in. Ruby did not hesitate in recommending that the home tightened their security.

  But for what purpose was the visit? Was it to shake Ruby up? Or test the waters for what lay ahead? After a quick goodbye to her mum, she headed outside.

  Rubbing the nape of her neck, Ruby was unable to shake off the sensation of being watched. She glanced around the tree-lined car park. The dining room was filling up, and as they sat at the window some of the old-age pensioners were looking her way – but their gaze was soft and yielding. Ruby exhaled in frustration as she rooted in her bag for her keys. Was she being paranoid, or was Lucy closing in? Involving her mother had brought things to a whole new level, and she had to report the incident if she was to keep her safe. As Ruby drove away, she wondered how much longer it would be before all her secrets came tumbling down around her.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  The hair on the back of Anita’s neck stood sentry as the music box tinkled in the stifling air. Each pin slowly plucked the steel drum, enhancing the terror of her surroundings. As the tune slowly wound down, Anita took in Lucy’s hopeful features, her eyes roaming over her clothes. The blonde wig, the old-fashioned clothing, and a little girl in search of her mummy… a spark of recognition lit in her brain. Could it be? She replayed a movie soundtrack in the confines of her mind. Lucy’s Christmas. Of course. She had watched it dozens of times. It was the music box that had put her off. The tune wasn’t the same. But it was close enough for her to recognise the meaning. Her pulse quickened. So this is what her captor meant. Images flashed in her mind, aiding her recollection. As if she herself was in a scene of a movie. But there was no kidnap scene involved. She had to find her own way out of that. ‘I remember,’ Anita said, her voice raking through her dry throat.

  A raspy breath cooled her cheek. ‘Good. Then you’ll know what to say.’

  The others could not have known what Lucy meant. And perhaps Lucy had set them up to fail all along. But as the music box was tightly wound for the second time the answers instantly appeared to Anita. For it was a movie she had cried over many times, her lips forming soundless words as she relayed each scene. Lucy’s eyes flitted up to the basement door which had been left tantalisingly open. Anita jerked against her bindings as Lucy looked away. But it was no use. She could barely move. Frustrated tears sprang to her eyes, and a sob escaped her throat before she could close her mouth to stop it. She hadn’t eaten a thing. Nor had she been allowed to use the toilet and had suffered the shame of warm urine trickling down the thin material of her jeans. Each moment of discomfort made her heart ache for Sophie. Where was she? And how was she coping? She would not survive much longer, if indeed she was alive at all. She had to face the truth. Help was not coming. It was up to her to break free.

  Lucy’s eyes narrowed as she turned to face her. Her voice was churlish, spoken in a tone better suited to a sulking child. ‘You’re crying. Why are you crying?’

  Anita sniffed, delivering a watery smile. ‘It’s because I’m so happy.’ Her heart faltered in the hope that she would be believed. Her voice was smooth, her words delivered in the same calm tones she had learned in her training as a counsellor.

  Lucy regarded her for a few minutes before nodding her head and laying down the music box. It gave a little tinkle, the last strands of ‘Hush Little Baby’ echoing in their darkened chamber. Her blonde curls looked freakishly out of place, and now that her face was scrubbed clean Anita could see her for what she really was.

  ‘Are you ready to play?’ Lucy said, tongue darting across her teeth like an animal about to devour its prey.

  Anita nodded. She knew what would happen if she got it wrong. She wanted to scream Sophie’s name, to know that her little girl was safe. She told herself that she was still alive. Their bond was strong, and in the depths of her being she felt her daughter’s life force pulsating faintly, just as it did when she was pregnant.

  Her flesh and blood. Unlike the creature before her.

  She stared at the back of Lucy’s head, sending invisible daggers of hate. There was something about their demeanour that told Anita this would not end well. The least she could do was to give herself a fighting chance as the final moments drew near. ‘Could you untie me? The woman in the movie was standing beside the tree; I think it would be better if we got it right, don’t you?’

  Lucy frowned. Her childish voice dissipated as she spoke, and her tone was low and guttural. ‘You better not play any tricks. If you play tricks I’ll kill Sophie. I mean it.’

  Anita’s heart pounded in her chest surging a shot of adrenalin through her veins. Her body was preparing for the fight, and she fought hard to portray an expression of calm. She was weak and dizzy and needed time to gather her strength. She made a silent vow. Once unbound, she would never allow Lucy to bind her again. ‘As I said, I’ve been waiting all my life to meet you. Why would I want to run away now?’

  Lucy delivered a narrow-eyed glance. It was a look that said she was not so easily fooled, and she turned to delve her hand into the shoe box she had rested on the shelf.

  Anita caught the glint of steel as Lucy drew near. It was a boning knife with a six-inch blade. Anita recognised it as she had a similar one at home. One she had lost. Or had she? Lately, things had been going missing, objects had been moved. She had thought she was going mad, but now… her eyes widened as Lucy approached. How many times had she been in her home before they met? Lucy’s eyes held a manic stare, her tongue darting from between her teeth to lick her lips once more.

  ‘Please don’t,’ Anita whimpered, as Lucy stood behind her; the cool blade kissing the skin on her wrists. Anita closed her eyes: blocking out the basement, the smells, and the lunatic tugging at her wrists… until all she could see was Sophie’s face. If she was going to die, she would take love with her in her final moments, not terror or despair.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  Flecks of rain sprinkled Ruby’s face as she ran down the narrow path. Being fit added another layer to her armour. She had good legs and strong biceps and wanted to keep it that way. With her fitness test coming up, her superiors did not begrudge her a run during her break. But her mind was on the figure behind her who had been following for some time. The grate of their heavy breath came thick and fast as they struggled to keep up with her pace.

  Coming to an abrupt halt, Ruby bent to tie her shoelaces. Her follower was close. Extending her foot, Ruby knocked them off their feet
, sending them stumbling to the pavement below. Launching herself upon them, she wasted no time in pinning their wrists to the ground. The person did not put up a fight as Ruby pushed back their hood.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she said, glaring at Helen with disbelief. It was not the first time Ruby had bumped into a journalist, but never while she was out on a run.

  ‘It’s not illegal to exercise, is it?’ Helen said between breaths, sweat clinging to her mousy hair.

  Patting her down for weapons, Ruby sprung to her feet. ‘Don’t give me that bullshit; I know you’ve been following me.’ Grabbing the front of Helen’s hoodie, she pulled her back onto her feet. Keeping hold of her sweater, Ruby gave her a quick shake. ‘Come on then, I’m waiting.’

  ‘Alright, alright, let go of me, will you?’ Helen blurted, smoothing back her sweater as Ruby released her grip. ‘I just wanted to see where you were going. There’s a lot of buzz around this case, and I heard you might have some contacts.’

  ‘And I was going for a run,’ Ruby said, unimpressed. ‘Next time I catch you following me I’ll have you arrested for harassment.’

  ‘Harassment?’ Helen said, her eyes wide and disbelieving.

  ‘Just keep out of my way in future. I was going to give you the heads up after our chat in the café. But now you can go through the official channels like everyone else.’ It may have seemed harsh, but she’d had enough of people picking over the bones of her personal life. Lately, the lines between work and home seemed more blurred than ever.

  * * *

  Ruby replayed their conversation as she clicked through her emails trying, but not succeeding, to maintain a level of concentration. She hated admin. Loathed it, in fact. But if she didn’t get the overtime and leave requests signed off she would be the least popular person in the station. Apart from Worrow, of course; although Ruby was back in her good books after coming up with the movie that seemed to fit the killer’s MO. Luddy had been tasked with contacting the websites that sold it online. But there were so many, not to count the free online pirate sites where you could watch it for free. The killer could have obtained it anytime in the last twenty years, and Ruby could not help but feel she had loaded Luddy down with another fruitless task. Her thoughts floated back to Lucy. Was she really capable of taking a mother and child? And if so, where were they? Outer London was a hive of rat-runs, derelict council buildings and vermin-infested squats. Could she be holed up there? Or were her claims of homelessness a cover for what was really going on? Her efforts at tracing the number that called her had come up blank. Like Nathan, the caller had used a pay as you go: it was now permanently switched off. There was no doubt that Lucy was playing games with her and communicated at a time only of her choosing.

 

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