Saving Sophie

by Sam Carrington

  Her mind wandered during the class. She knew she couldn’t prevent her mum from contacting the police for much longer. She seemed resigned to the fact that her infidelity, her secrets, would surface and that life would take a downward turn. Even more so than it already had. Her mum’s need to protect her would always be stronger than the desire to keep her secret.

  Life really was about to get complicated. The thought of what her dad would do bothered her the most. They hadn’t been getting on, not for a long time. But imagining how hurt he’d be, not only about his wife cheating on him, but about Sophie keeping the dirty secret, twisted her insides and fuelled her guilt.

  If only there was a way to stop him ever finding out.

  A vibration jolted her from her thoughts.

  Dan. What did he want?

  I have to talk to you. Just you, don’t tell Amy. Shit, Soph, things have got out of hand. Meet me at the back of Stover Park. Has to be out of the way. I’m being followed.

  Could this be for real? Dan being followed? Perhaps she’d been wrong to jump to the conclusion that he was involved with Jay. Could Jay be targeting him, too? She’d have to go, she’d never forgive herself if something happened to him. Her mum could be right – more blood on her hands. The situation was spiralling. She’d meet Dan, talk it out, and perhaps they’d go to the police together. There might still be a way of leaving her mum out of it, a way to keep the secret buried. Hers too. There was only one way to find out.

  She texted back, agreeing to the meet.

  As she’d been sick the previous day, her assessor accepted her excuse to leave again.

  She ran across the car park, forgetting the puddles she’d deftly avoided earlier. Swinging her wet legs into the car, she quickly shoved the key in the ignition, whacked it into gear and sped off. Adrenaline made her hands shake. She gripped the wheel harder, but the sensation spread up her arms. Ten minutes later, she pulled into the park entrance. He’d said to go to the back of the park; she followed the track, keeping alert, her eyes intensely peering through the intermittent windscreen wipers. There were no vehicles. No people. Where was he?

  ‘You better not be taking the piss, Dan.’ She tutted, snatched up her phone and texted him: Where are you then?

  A few seconds after she hit send, she heard a muffled bleeping coming from the back seat.

  Odd.

  She turned to the sound, as a hand reached towards her.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE

  DI Wade

  Erin Malone’s family set-up seemed a complex one. After interviewing Maria Nickson yesterday, Lindsay had more questions than answers. Would a visit to Rachel Malone’s be useful at this point? They could try to untangle the family relationships, perhaps get Rachel’s perspective on Adam and Maria. Although, she’d already given some information and seemed pretty angry about Maria’s claim that Erin had confided in her about how unhappy she was. Would they gain an accurate picture from Rachel, or an emotional backlash against Adam?

  They weren’t much further on, but they were on their way to Rachel’s anyway. It couldn’t hurt.

  ‘What are you thinking, Boss?’ Mack’s knees were wedged against the glove compartment of the Volvo, as if to stop himself being flung about by Lindsay’s erratic driving.

  ‘I’m thinking “What a complete wash-out. What exactly have we got?”’ She threw the steering wheel around, taking the left corner hard. She tasted the metallic tang of blood. She’d bitten the inside of her cheek repeatedly over the last ten days; an uncomfortable habit left over from her teenage years. Now it was sore, and likely to turn into an ulcer.

  ‘We’ll get a break soon.’ Mack’s hand reached for the handle above the door. ‘Any chance I can live to my big five-o please?’

  ‘You’re not that old, are you?’

  ‘Um … I like to think I’ve reached an age of maturity … and another year closer to retirement. It’s not old. It’s privileged.’

  Lindsay couldn’t contain her burst of laughter. ‘Brilliant, never heard it called that before. Oh dear, you make me laugh.’ She wiped at the tears with the back of a hand. ‘To get back to you saying we’ll soon get a break – I admit, I’m losing hope. And patience. It just seems like a lot of chasing our tails, half-cocked leads that go nowhere, or surveillance that isn’t getting results. People are giving us the run-around.’

  ‘Yep, there are a few of those. I get the feeling more people are involved in Erin’s abduction and murder than we first thought. Someone, or some people, are hiding significant details. And I don’t mean just Sophie Finch.’

  ‘Yes, I reckon you’re spot on there. Don’t they realise you can’t bury secrets forever?’

  ‘Ahh, but they always think they can. That’s the point. But we’ll get them, Boss. In the end we will get all of them.’

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR

  Karen

  The queasy sensation infiltrated her dream. She opened her eyes, then closed them quickly, the light assaulting them. Her head swam. She hadn’t been drunk last night, had she? She reached an arm across to Mike’s side. Empty. What day is it? Had he left for work already, without waking her again? She propped up on one elbow, and reached for her phone, blinking her eyes repeatedly in a vain attempt to focus. Weds 18 11.16 a.m. She’d slept in late. The medication had worked too well, her body yet to acclimatise again, having been off it for so long. The tiny light on her mobile flashed, showing she had a notification. She’d have to check in a minute. A sharp pain in her stomach and the watering in her mouth told her she was going to be sick.

  The retching produced only bile; the acid burned the back of her throat. She didn’t remember having these side effects when she’d first been prescribed the tablets. She swilled her mouth with water, then brushed her teeth. A sudden thought – had Sophie gone to college? She hadn’t come in to her to say goodbye.

  She checked her room. Empty. She hollered her name down the stairs. Nothing. Great, so both Mike and Sophie were avoiding her. Or, maybe she had come in, but Karen’d been in too deep a sleep to rouse. Wrapping the dressing gown around her, Karen headed downstairs. She needed toast, coffee – anything to refill her stomach again, to stop the hollow ache. It wasn’t until the kettle clicked off that she noticed the silence. Too silent. Something missing.

  Bailey. Where was Bailey?

  She called all through the house and checked his usual hiding places – nothing. Perhaps Mike had put him outside before he left. The back sliding door was unlocked, but shouting his name didn’t bring him running from the garden. Mike must’ve taken him to work. Finally, he’d listened to her pleas. Karen closed the door, locked it.

  Now she was completely alone.

  The flashing on her phone reminded her that she hadn’t read the notification. Probably just a Facebook one anyway. Phone in one hand, coffee mug in the other, Karen unlocked the screen. Text. From Mike.

  So sorry about not coming home last night. After I dropped the dog back and knew you were in bed, I took off, drove around. I needed some time out, to think. Drove so far I ended up sleeping in the car, couldn’t face coming home. Hope I didn’t worry you. Can we talk tonight?

  The splintering of china shattered the silence as Karen’s mug hit the tiled floor. Hot liquid splashed up her legs. She jumped back, but too late to avoid it. She grabbed a dishcloth and held it under the cold tap, wrung it, and pressed it against her skin. The stinging brought tears to her eyes. Shit.

  Mike brought Bailey home.

  Mike then left and stayed out all night.

  So, her memory of him getting into bed last night was a false one?

  And, if he brought Bailey home, where was he?

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-FIVE

  Her call to Mike went straight to voicemail. Bloody moors. He’d never disappeared overnight like this before, even in the worst times of their marriage. Needed time to think things through. Why now? Did he feel that she and Sophie had been keeping him out of the loop, sense they were being secretive? And
sleeping in the car, what was that about? He could’ve just slept on the sofa.

  She shook her head. So many things she’d do differently, if only she could have another chance. Starting with Drew. Had she gone back to work later, following proper maternity leave, she might have approached everything without the stress and tiredness that had tinged everything she did: every judgement, every choice, every action. All of it clouded due to sleep deprivation and guilt.

  It’d started with Sophie’s birth.

  What if it ended with Sophie’s death? The cycle complete.

  Is that what Jay wanted?

  She needed Sophie home. She’d have her mobile on silent while in college, but she might pick up her texts.

  Come straight home after college. Need to chat urgently.

  Karen hoped Sophie would see it and leave immediately. She had to get Sophie home, in the safe zone, away from Jay. Away from Dan, too, if Sophie was right. Even Adam’s girlfriend, Maria. Jay’s poison had spread; he’d somehow injected it into others, created his own circle of evil, everyone within it having a role to play in his game. But only he seemed to be the one who knew all the players. There was one certainty as far as Karen could see.

  It couldn’t end well.

  A cold dread prodded the length of her spine. Mike had definitely stayed out purposely last night, hadn’t he? The text sent by him willingly? What if he hadn’t returned from walking Bailey? There was no sign of the dog in the house.

  Had Jay done something to them? She fled to the front window, drew back the curtains. No car.

  She expelled the air from her lungs, her posture relaxing. He must’ve driven off then, like he said.

  She hollered for Bailey. Still no sound. She went to the back door, unlocked it again and slid it back. She called Bailey a few times. Nothing.

  The shed door was ajar, banging gently in the wind.

  Mike always locked it. She ran her tongue over her dry lips, swallowing hard.

  ‘Bailey!’ Her voice wavered, sounded small, lost. She called again, more forcefully.

  She strained to hear, hoped for some sound – any sign of her dog.

  Her hand slipped on the door frame; she almost fell outside. She quickly retracted herself, shut the door. Staying there, hands pressed against the glass, she breathed deeply for what felt like an hour. She turned the key.

  Did Jay know where she lived? Would he come here, to her house?

  The memory of Mike getting into bed beside her flashed in her head.

  The saliva in her mouth evaporated instantly – she tried to swallow, her attempt failing.

  No way. It wasn’t possible.

  Her legs went numb. She moved to the kitchen using the worktops to keep herself upright, knocking things from the surface as she dragged herself along. Must get the bag. Her knees buckled as she reached into the cupboard. She sat on the floor and blew in and out of the bag. What next? Email Jay? Ask him what was going on? Her eyes fell to the Betterware catalogue that’d fallen to the floor in her scramble to get the bag.

  Oh my God.

  The image of the man who’d delivered it flashed in front of her eyes. It was Jay, it was him on her driveway with the rucksack of catalogues, that’s why his face had been familiar, how she knew those intense green eyes when she’d seen him outside Anderson’s. He did know where they lived.

  Karen flung her head back, and banged it against the cupboard door. A terrible thought barged its way into her mind. If Jay had managed to get inside the house last night, did get into her bed – could he still be here? It was enough to give a surge of adrenaline to her weak legs. She propelled herself off the floor and took the biggest knife from the block, gripping it tight.

  This wasn’t fair. This was her safe zone. Outside is the scary place. Inside is safe. She’d been telling herself that for two years. How could she be wrong now?

  Breathe. Keep calm.

  She struggled to listen for sounds of her intruder above the noise of her heartbeat. She stopped at the bottom stair, leaning against the wall. Where would he be hiding? Wardrobe? Hers or Sophie’s? Bathroom, in the shower? The main one or her en suite?

  Please don’t be here. Let me be wrong.

  Each stair creaked. He’d know she was coming. He would be ready for her.

  In through the nose, out through the mouth. Slow. Steady.

  Halfway.

  A drip. She could hear a dripping noise.

  Bathroom?

  He was in the main bathroom.

  She moved one leg up, next step reached. Near the top now. She extended her neck, couldn’t see over the banister. The bathroom door was ajar.

  Drip, drip.

  Sophie probably had a shower before college and hadn’t turned the water off fully, that was all it was. She crept further, on the landing now. No one behind the banister. A small sigh escaped her mouth.

  Was she overreacting?

  With the knife outstretched, she pushed the tip of it against the bathroom door.

  What was she going to do if he was in there? Stab him?

  Yes. Absolutely.

  The door swung open fully, pushing up against the wall. No one could be behind it.

  Her breath hissed from her pursed lips. He’s not in there, you’re safe.

  She poked her head around the corner. The shower curtain stretched across the bath.

  She stopped breathing.

  With her left hand she reached for it, held the edge of the shiny fabric. Knife in her right hand, angled downwards. Is this the best way to hold the knife? Would she be quick enough to inflict harm, or would he disarm her easily? Should she point it up?

  I don’t know. Just do it.

  With a swift movement, Karen ripped the shower curtain back, lunged with her right hand.

  The scream hit off each of the four walls, vibrating, the echo filling the small space.

  She dropped the knife, covering her ears as she fell to the floor.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX

  Sophie

  The shock of having him come at her from behind stunned her into silence. Sophie couldn’t even scream. His hand held something in it. A rag? It was wet against her mouth, her nose.

  She fought against him, her hands scrabbling in the air, then pulling at his arms. They tightened more.

  She gulped for air. He was whispering against her ear, ‘Shhh, don’t fight it. Relax, Sophie.’

  He’d been in her car. Waiting. For how long? Why hadn’t she noticed?

  She was stupid. Why had she trusted that text? Her mum was going to go mad. She should’ve told her where she was going.

  Too late.

  Her heart was banging hard. Would it stop?

  Was she going to die like Erin?

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN

  Karen

  ‘No, no, no, no.’

  Karen lay still. All her strength drained. Her throat dry, scratchy. The scream still echoing, although she’d stopped.

  He’d been here. In her house. In her bed.

  He’d killed her dog. The bastard.

  Bailey’s lifeless body lay in the bath. Brown fur matted with dark blood.

  Why?

  How did one decision lead to this moment? Why should she be punished for doing her job? Was she the only person in Drew and Jay’s lives who’d ever wronged them? Why her? And why had he gone to these lengths?

  What was next? Karen had to do something, call DS Mack. Get this killer caught, put away. She heaved herself up using the side of the bath to aid her. She kept her eyes averted, not wanting to see him again. His dead, glassy eyes. Poor Bailey. She grabbed a towel from the rail and threw it over his little body.

  What about the rest of the upstairs? He might still be here, watching, waiting to attack her next. She had to check before doing anything else. Raising the knife again, and with her back flat to the wall, Karen moved out of the bathroom. She’d check the farthest room first, leave her own until last. Sophie’s room could be hiding a few people, let alo
ne just one. She stabbed at clothes piles, the curtains, bedding. Each fresh jab left a mark, a tiny hole or tear in the material.

  Room by room, she did the same. Jay wasn’t here.

  The shed. The door had been open.

  She fled down the stairs, smacked the knife down on the breakfast bar and ran to the window. The shed door still thumped gently, the extended bolt catching the side. If Jay had hidden in there, she felt sure he’d gone now. Her doors and windows were locked. There was no way he could enter again. No point in him hanging around. He’d done what he came for.

  Karen sank to the floor. Head in hands, she cried, the sobs wracking her body. She’d never been so alone. And who was the one person she wanted to turn to now, who she’d always turned to in any crisis?

  Rachel.

  What a total mess.

  She’d asked the question – why her? Well, the answer was obvious, wasn’t it?

  Because she deserved every hateful thing coming to her.

  A dinging. Faraway.

  Karen strained her ears. Her phone? Where was it?

  She moved to the lounge, searching the source. It wasn’t a notification – it was ringing.

  Please be Mike or Sophie.

  She snatched up the phone.

  Amy. Why was she calling?

  ‘Hey, Amy. You okay?’ She attempted to disguise the tears, the panic.

  ‘Sorry to bother you, Karen.’ Her voice, quiet.

  ‘No, no problem. What’s up?’ She wiped the tears with her sleeve.

  ‘I’m meant to be coming over to see Sophie later, after she finishes college.’ A pause. ‘But, I want to speak to you first. If you’re free.’

  Karen almost laughed. ‘Of course, Amy. I think that’s a good idea, actually. I wouldn’t mind having a chat before Sophie comes home. A lot’s been happening.’

  ‘Oh? What do you mean? What stuff’s been happening?’

  ‘We’ll talk when you get here. Come now, Amy, will you?’