Saving Sophie

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Saving Sophie Page 26

by Sam Carrington


  ‘No, there’s been nothing for the last week, probably nothing now. We’ll swing by later, check their security tapes. Just keep an eye on her for now. Track her movements.’ She straightened and walked to the whiteboard on the back wall of the incident room. Copies of the emails and the two pictures extracted from Sophie’s mobile were pinned to the board, like an elephant in the room. They knew Sophie had failed to give them critical information. She’d clearly been afraid to tell them about the pictures, the fact that someone was sending her sexual images. Likely the man who’d killed Erin, although there wasn’t anything to link the two at the moment, having still not found the primary scene. The emails themselves sounded as though they were from the killer, but could just be a hoax. It’d been impossible to tell the extent of Sophie’s involvement, if any of her friends had connections to the killer, there was no solid evidence. They had to sit it out, watch and wait for someone to lead them to something concrete. Or to the killer himself.

  Lindsay thought about Sophie’s ‘slip’ of information when she and Mack had visited her at the college. She’d said ‘That bastard stabbed her, strangled her.’ Only no one outside of the investigation knew about the stabbing wounds. So how had Sophie known?

  Their best shot at finding out was keeping her under surveillance, and they’d been doing that without raising her suspicion. Using a young girl for intel sat uncomfortably with Lindsay, particularly as Sophie had no idea of their intentions. But their observations of her movements hadn’t yielded much. A meeting with Daniel Pearce, another meet-up at his house with the group from Saturday night, work, college. Nothing of importance.

  Lindsay stared at one of the post-mortem pictures of Erin. It might not feel good, using Sophie in this way, but she could be a crucial part of the murder, a suspect even. She certainly knew more than she’d disclosed so far.

  And sometimes the end justified the means.

  CHAPTER NINETY-ONE

  Karen

  How could Karen judge Amy? Her own naïvety when it came to willingly divulging a shit-ton of information to Jay far outshone Amy’s. And Amy was only nineteen. Not forty-seven, like her. Or a probation officer. Bloody hell. If she’d been so easily taken in by Jay’s charm, Amy hadn’t stood a chance. She couldn’t be blamed. Would the police see it that way? She’d helped him, drugged a friend, aided a double kidnapping, withheld information. It didn’t look good. Was the only reason he’d allowed her to leave so that, if it came to it, he could implicate her, blame Amy for everything?

  Karen hadn’t been able to protect Erin from the chain of events she herself had set in motion. She’d let her and Rachel down, was responsible for what had happened. But maybe she could rectify it, ensure no other lives were impacted because of her mistake. She could protect Sophie and Amy from the consequences of this. Protect each of their secrets.

  ‘What do you want to do about this, Amy?’

  ‘I’ll have to tell the police, won’t I?’ Her voice flat, tears continuing their descent in a constant stream. ‘It’s my fault Erin’s dead. They’ll put me away, I’ll go to prison for the rest of my life. Won’t I? I’m as bad as him, everyone will hate me, and I’ll be like that woman who knew her boyfriend killed those young girls, helped him hide it. Shit. Shit—’

  ‘Calm down, Amy, come on, don’t panic, shh …’ She put her hand over Amy’s. Her heart ached. All this pain and fear because of something she’d started seventeen years ago.

  Karen played with the handle of the knife – the one she’d left on the breakfast bar after finding Bailey. The poor dog was still lying lifeless in the bath – how was she going to deal with him? His glassy, dead eyes flashed into her mind. She gripped the handle and turned it over. The sun caught the blade, sending a line of white light across the wall.

  ‘No, Amy. I don’t think you should go to the police. Maybe they’ll never have to know you had a part in this.’

  ‘He’ll tell them. If they don’t know already.’

  ‘Let’s think about it. The only evidence of your involvement is the fact you drugged Sophie, yes?’

  ‘I guess. There’s no CCTV, I know that much.’

  ‘What about texts, emails?’

  ‘Well, yeah, there are plenty of threads; none mentioning his plan though. Any specific discussion took place when we met up. I think.’

  ‘Right. In that case, you probably can’t be linked to the actual crime—’

  ‘I used the Rohypnol in Erin’s drink too.’ A resignation in her voice.

  ‘Okay. Well, the drug you gave would’ve left the bloodstream quickly; it wouldn’t have shown in the post-mortem, I’m sure. That’s why rapists use it. Nothing links you to the kidnap, or the murder.’ Karen saw Amy visibly shudder at her words.

  ‘But, Karen, didn’t you hear me?’ She jiggled up and down on the stool, waving her hands. ‘He is going to tell the police. If he gets caught, he’ll take me down too. He told me so yesterday.’

  ‘So, we have to ensure he can’t.’ Karen’s thoughts calmed, the knowledge of what she had to do quashing the panic. ‘It’s apparently me who started him off on this deranged path of revenge. It should be me who finishes it.’

  ‘How? How can you stop him if you can’t go outside the house?’ Hysteria crept into Amy’s voice. ‘You can’t do anything, the police will have to. Don’t worry about me.’

  ‘There is something I can do. I have to act, Amy, because I’m pretty sure he’s going to use Sophie to get to me.’

  ‘Let’s wait for Sophie to get home. She’ll be back any time, won’t she?’

  ‘I texted her and said to come straight home, so yes. And she knows you’re coming here?’

  ‘Yeah, said I could come over at four.’

  ‘Fine. We’ll tell her where we’re up to. Perhaps between the three of us, we can come up with a plan that’ll mean none of us get put out to dry.’

  But Karen knew she only had one option.

  CHAPTER NINETY-TWO

  ‘If you texted Sophie saying to come straight home, shouldn’t she be here by now?’ Amy checked the time on her phone. ‘It’s four thirty, Karen.’

  ‘I’ll ring.’

  Straight to voicemail.

  Karen jumped up, paced the kitchen. Sophie would have her mobile on by now; college finished an hour ago. There was never an issue with signal once she was outside of the college building. Not like Mike being on the moors, out of contact most of the time. Could Sophie have gone to see her dad? She dialled Mike, knowing it to be a waste of time. Voicemail, as she’d anticipated. She hoped he was all right, that he had gone to work as usual.

  ‘Let’s not panic.’ Amy’s tone displayed exactly that.

  Amy’s mobile rang. Her breathing visibly shallowed, quickening as she looked at the display.

  Karen put her hand to her mouth. ‘What? What is it?’

  ‘It’s him, Karen. What do I do?’ Amy held the phone as if it were a ticking bomb.

  ‘Answer. You have to find out what he wants.’

  Karen held her breath. Please don’t have her.

  She accepted the call. ‘Yes?’ Amy’s face blanched. ‘Yes, I’m with her.’ She thrust the phone at Karen. ‘He wants you.’

  A sharp pain hit Karen in the stomach. He had Sophie.

  ‘If you want to save your precious daughter, I suggest you do as I tell you.’

  Karen’s surroundings melted away, a muteness swooped in, smothering her; all sounds other than his voice and her hammering heart ceased.

  ‘Congratulations, Jay. Or Jonathan. Whatever your name is.’

  ‘Thank you, Karen. I knew you’d be impressed. And it’s Jason.’

  She clenched her free hand and banged it repeatedly against her head. His voice, once the source of so many feelings of love and desire, now overwhelmed her with fear and repulsion. She listened as he instructed her to meet him at the old quarry off Bovey Heath. Alone. No police.

  ‘If you contact the police, Karen, it’s game over. I will kil
l her instantly.’

  ‘I … I can’t. I can’t do it.’

  ‘Yeah. Sophie said you had some pathetic debilitating condition. Get over it, Karen. You have to come here. To me.’

  She couldn’t drive herself. She’d never make it, she’d let Sophie down spectacularly. She’d have to get Amy to take her. She hesitated, couldn’t speak to him, but a sudden plan was formulating in her head. He wanted her. Would he do anything to get her there?

  ‘No, Jay. Not happening.’ The words came out firmer, more steady than she felt.

  ‘What? What did you just say?’ Anger, shock.

  Karen’s hands shook. ‘If you want me to come to you, I’ll be the one to tell you where.’

  Laughter erupted on the end of the line. ‘I don’t think you’re in any position to give me instructions. I will kill her, you know that, don’t you? I’ll strangle the life from her, as I did that stupid friend of hers.’

  Karen leant against the sink, staring out of the window at the darkening moors.

  ‘I’m in the perfect position. I’ll get back to you, Jay. I’ll tell you where you need to be with Sophie. Wait by the phone.’

  She hung up.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Amy flew at her with her hands raised. ‘He’ll kill her.’

  Karen grabbed them, pulled Amy towards her and hugged her tightly.

  ‘It’ll be okay. He won’t hurt her, yet.’ She prayed she wasn’t making a terrible mistake. ‘Right, come on.’ Karen pulled away and started towards the dining room and her laptop. ‘We’re going to arrange to meet him in an area as remote as possible on Dartmoor. You’re driving, Amy.’

  Her sudden confidence seemed to buoy Amy.

  ‘Okay. Okay. So, what’s your plan?’

  CHAPTER NINETY-THREE

  DI Wade

  ‘Who’s nearby? Send a squad car to Stover, will you? She’s been there for over an hour,’ Lindsay shouted above the buzz of the incident room.

  ‘On it, Guv.’

  They’d been working on a lead, Sophie’s movements having been left to the other inquiry team in the meantime. DI Wade had finally got a hit from the techies. They’d already located the source of the emails sent to Sophie, although that had taken some time. The sender had been using multiple proxies to mask himself and that, in addition to the fact he’d been logging on in a public place, had meant a lot of running around. But they’d done it. The IP address led to a coffee shop in Torquay.

  Now, they’d gone one better. Using the times the emails had been sent, matched with the footage from the cameras outside on the street, they’d come up with a couple of likely suspects. They’d immediately whittled it down, and with the E-FIT from the woman who’d reported a stalker following a female in Coleton – bingo. With some good detective work, they’d found him. And they’d been given an address.

  Some digging had revealed a number of interesting facts. The last person registered on the electoral roll as living at that address was Andrew Watkins, now deceased. A small-time criminal, whose son, Jason, had been seventeen when Andrew was sent down for aggravated burglary. Three years later Andrew Watkins, out on bail, broke his conditions, and was recalled to prison. He later committed suicide.

  And the person who recalled him was none other than Karen Finch. Sophie’s mother, who, it turned out, herself had been the victim of an attack two years previously, at the hands of the Carey Park rapist. She’d been the lucky one.

  ‘I want a team at Andrew Watkins’ address. Now! See if Jason’s still living at the flat there.’

  ‘Guv.’ The wary tone of DC Sewell found her ears. ‘They’ve checked Sophie’s last known location.’

  Last known location? Didn’t sound good. ‘And?’

  ‘No sign. Of her or her car.’

  ‘How did we miss her leaving?’ Lindsay strode to the table.

  ‘They did find an iPhone at the scene,’ DC Sewell offered.

  ‘Bollocks. Right, let’s get into the CCTV stream along that road. Find her.’

  The room erupted into another frenzy of activity. A few minutes later, a shout.

  ‘Got her vehicle, being driven along Bovey Straights half an hour ago, Guv.’

  ‘Bovey Straights. Could be heading for Dartmoor. Going to see her dad? Someone get him on the line, see if she’s with him. Okay, people, let’s get a unit to the Watkins’ place. And then we’ll pay Karen Finch a little visit.’

  CHAPTER NINETY-FOUR

  Karen

  She’d been breathing in and out of the bag for a good ten minutes.

  ‘Come on, Karen, you’ll be fine. We have to go.’ Amy pulled at her arm, encouraging her towards the porch door.

  ‘Wait.’ The anxiety of getting out of the house coupled with the knowledge that a murderer had her daughter weren’t exactly sympathetic to her condition.

  ‘I’m assuming time isn’t on our side here.’

  ‘No. Right.’ Karen put her head down, shut her eyes and felt her way out of the front door. ‘Where’s your car?’

  ‘Along a bit. You might want to open your eyes.’

  Karen didn’t care for the condescending tone. Amy had no idea how difficult this was.

  ‘You do have to navigate, you know that. You’ve chosen the location, you need to tell me where I’m going. That means looking, Karen.’

  ‘Okay … okay. Don’t lose it with me … it doesn’t help.’

  Karen locked her door once safely inside the vehicle. She put the torch and map down in the footwell. ‘I’ll look when we get closer. Just drive towards Bovey.’

  Amy put the radio on. The banging bass filled the car. It felt appropriate, matched Karen’s banging heart rate.

  ‘I’m sorry … I’ve dragged you … into this, Amy.’ Karen breathed in and out the paper bag. She’d need a new one after today.

  ‘I didn’t need much dragging. It’s me who got involved with him.’

  ‘He sought you out. Because of me. You didn’t stand a chance.’

  ‘Great to know I’m so gullible.’

  ‘How do you think I feel?’ She dropped the bag into her lap. ‘A middle-aged woman falling for a man ten years younger … thinking he felt real feelings for me. I’m the gullible one.’

  ‘He does love you though, Karen. He’s doing this as some warped way of getting together with you. He wants you, despite also wanting to get his revenge. In his mind it all makes sense. It’s obvious to me now; the way he acted when he spoke about you – he’d get all wound up one minute when he was talking about the past, and his dad, and then when he spoke about the future, and you, he always smiled. Looked happy.’

  Karen grimaced. ‘Funnily enough, that’s of no comfort.’

  They drove a way in silence, only the music keeping her thoughts company. Dark thoughts. How were her dreams going to be once this was over?

  How would it end?

  Karen reached inside her bag and felt the coolness of the blade. Surely once Jay saw her, realised she’d come to him, he would let Sophie go. She was swapping herself for Sophie. He wanted her. The nagging feeling returned. A score requires settling … We have to be on a level footing, you and I. For our future to work. His words clear. Unambiguous.

  They meant one thing. He was going to kill Sophie.

  She couldn’t allow it to happen. The knife gave only a little reassurance. She’d have to get close enough first. Put Sophie in danger, force his hand?

  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, thinking she could take him on alone. He’d said no police though. So she had no choice. She had to do it quickly. Do it right.

  She had no qualms about killing him before he could harm Sophie. It was the right thing to do, it would sort this entire mess out. No way could he implicate Sophie or Amy, no way her stupidity would become known.

  If she killed him.

  Her hands shook. The fallout of her actions – recalling Drew, seeking out an affair, her infidelities – had impacted on her and everyone she loved.

  If sh
e carried out this plan, she’d be a murderer.

  Could she live with those repercussions? Could her family?

  ‘We’re at the edge of Bovey. Which way, Karen?’

  ‘Keep to this road, then take the second exit. Then we’ll be on the road to Dartmoor.’ Her mouth dried. ‘Are you okay with this?’

  Amy took her eyes off the road briefly and gave Karen a nod. She said nothing.

  ‘When we get there, drive to the edge of the wood we found on the map. I’ll walk from there, you stay in the car. Wait. Do not follow me, you get that?’

  ‘Yes.’ Her voice was only just audible above the radio.

  Karen leant forward, switched it off. ‘You don’t mind, do you? I feel we need quiet.’

  Amy inhaled deeply; Karen watched her knuckles whiten as she gripped the steering wheel tighter.

  They’d reached the edge of the moor.

  CHAPTER NINETY-FIVE

  Sophie

  Why had her mother told him to come here? A forest on the moor? Was she mental? Maybe it was to give Sophie an opportunity to make a run for it, to hide in the wood until it was safe. How was her mum getting here herself? The light was already fading; the deeper they went, the darker it’d get, any light being blocked by the tall trees. The usual stunning scenery of the moors, a place she loved to come to, now felt eerie, menacing – the trees moved in, enveloping her. Suffocating her.

  He pulled at her arm, dragging her on; she stumbled over the uneven ground. Cried out.

  ‘Shut up. Keep moving.’

  His anger had been on the increase since the call from her mother back at the quarry. His contorted face, his shouts filling the empty room, his pacing, had all added to her own terror. He’d killed Erin. Surely she was next?

  Now he moved quickly, too fast for her to keep up, her feet two paces behind her body. She wasn’t tied. She’d watched as he filled a backpack with what he needed to restrain her when they reached the destination. A wave of nausea rippled through her. She’d not eaten, but suspected the sickness was due to fear, rather than hunger.

 

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