by Jake Cross
He had considered imparting his information by post. But he needed to know he’d done this without restriction, to face and overcome his nerves. Even if the sight of him put a smile on Katie’s face.
And there it was, thin, almost invisible, but a smile, nonetheless. But it was yet another piece of fakery, because the eyes were out of her control and they told the truth. They displayed anger.
She was a hundred miles away, in a soundproofed prison suite, but those cold eyes, as glassy as the laptop screen she stared out from, made him shiver. He had to steady a shaking hand in order to pull a folded sheet of paper from a pocket.
‘This is going nationwide tomorrow. The police are going to announce it. There are still people who blame me, blame my family, for what you did. Hopefully, this final thing will end the persecution of my family by people who associate your evil blood with me. But I wanted to show you first.’
Just then, someone knocked on the door. Chris crossed the storeroom and slipped out, careful not to let anyone see what he was doing.
It was Lindsay. ‘Big bro, your boss is so drunk he’s asleep. I said I’d take him home, since I’m the only one sober.’
True to her word, she hadn’t touched any of the alcohol scattered around. For the two days since she’d arrived on his doorstep, she hadn’t touched a drop, or asked for money, and the eyes had the clarity of the drug-free. Chris was sober, too. He’d been pretending to drink vodka, but it was water, to keep a clear head for his chat with Katie.
‘Thanks. Take him, please.’
At the back of the crowded function room Alan was slumped over a table and being ignored by four of Chris’s other work colleagues. Simone Baker was in the process of tying one of the helium-filled ‘16TH ANNIVERSARY’ balloons to his ear and being watched with intrigue by Carol and John.
When Lindsay left, he checked his watch. It was nearly time for Julia’s stand-up routine, which she’d promised to tone down for the few teenaged sons and daughters present. He’d also promised to watch, since it was her first performance in front of her parents. So he had to get this thing done.
Back in the storeroom, he took his seat once more. Katie had waited patiently. But of course. There was only a lonely cell to return to. He gave a little smile at the person sitting in front of him and behind the laptop, silent, just listening. Rose had refused to see or be seen by Katie, even by video. But she had wanted to watch her husband do this.
He picked up the sheet of paper again, so Katie could see it. She gave it only a flick of a glance, but the eyes showed no confusion. They knew what it was.
‘This survived the fire. It was in the garden. The police wanted an explanation. I gave it. They were quite shocked. So they contacted Gene Genie, the testing lab. They wondered if you’d performed other paternity tests, in case there was another dead non-father out there.’
Katie said nothing. Behind her, Rose watched the lid of the laptop, as if she could see the back of Katie’s head. She remained silent, unwilling to let Katie know she was there, but determined to watch this happen.
‘The lab didn’t have a paternity test with my name on it, Katie. We both signed that application form, but you didn’t send it off. This result sheet here is a fake, a copy, cleverly made by someone with a computer. You made it look very official, with the cheque and the licence included, and you posted it to my house. You didn’t need to do that test, did you? Because you already knew the truth. Because the lab did have a test for Katie Hugill. But not a paternity test.’
Katie said nothing.
‘Why were you at Julia’s college a couple of weeks ago, that day she saw you? Not to find a computer course. And not to get a first look at a woman who might be your brand-new sister. Could it be you were waiting for her to shed a hair, or break a fingernail, or toss a tissue in a bin?’
Katie didn’t react. Chris took another sheet of paper from his pocket. Another DNA test. Katie didn’t look at this one. Three columns, one for a gobbledegook of numbers and letters, one for a CLIENT/SIBLING named Katie Hugill and one for an ALLEGED SIBLING called Julia Redfern.
‘You performed a half-sibling DNA test on Julia, without her consent. Once you had an answer, you introduced yourself to my family with that bogus robbery and your ceremonial paternity test. But something was puzzling.’
Now Katie looked bored. She even yawned.
‘So many times I stopped you talking about this subject until we knew the truth. I was a little cold with you. I shut you out, so you had to beat a young woman half to death, and lie about a fire and pretend to be homeless, just to get into my house. Why, when you could have presented the test results on Julia and made one instant happy family? Just add water.’
Again, Katie said nothing, but her eyes strayed slightly. It might have been a trick of the camera, but it appeared she was looking somewhere narrowly past Chris’s ear.
He pointed at the only fragment of the letter that mattered. Not the disclaimer that the names couldn’t be verified because they were supplied by the client, or the warning that samples collected without a legal chain of custody couldn’t be defended in a court of law. And not the technical four-sentence result at the bottom, either.
Just one word of it. And one number.
PROBABILITY 0%.
Katie looked. She looked for a long time, as if trying to work out a way around this new problem. The she stood. She smoothed her clothing.
‘Why, Katie, if I wasn’t your father? Still you came to me, but why? Because you rested your hopes on me but Julia’s negative test result burned all that, like everything else in your life? Because you had nowhere and no one to turn to? Did you decide I would do anyway because otherwise you had nothing?’
Katie leaned forward and grabbed her laptop. Her room shook. Her face filled the screen. It was one of disappointment. ‘I must have a problem with my DNA. Something that happened inside me. It ruined me. It made the test fail. Or it was him, Everton. Everton did this to me. His vile seed. I’m pregnant with his demon.’
Chris felt a shiver as he realised Katie did not accept the truth. This knowledge suffocated her shocking news. Beyond the room, he heard the whine of microphone feedback. Julia was preparing for her routine. He put a hand atop the laptop, ready to slam it shut, and end this. He had chosen to do this here, now, during his belated wedding anniversary party, because immediately afterwards he wanted to drown himself in people he cared for, who cared right back. But he had one more thing to say first.
‘I hope the pregnancy makes you happy, Katie. But now I need to tell you something. My story about meeting your mother when you were just a couple of months old. That was true.’
He glanced over the laptop, at Rose. If she had heard Katie’s claim to be pregnant, then she didn’t show it. Katie was nothing to her. Instead, she nodded at him to continue his story. The day after the terrible events of the previous Saturday, he had admitted this final piece of the tale to his wife. She had taken it well, although there was residual tension between them, but he hadn’t felt clean. He’d known then that to cleanse himself fully, he needed to confess to one other.
‘But I lied to you about how it happened. Your mother did indeed find me at my college. She told me I had a little girl. She wanted us to have a life together. A family. But I already had a new family. I had Rose and a new baby. I didn’t want to lose them. So I abandoned you. I was a coward, and I ran from my responsibility. Literally, I ran. I ran out of college that day, and I never went back. Just in case she found me again. It was utter weakness on my part, and even though I know now I may not be your father, for that I am sorry.’
Trance-like Katie didn’t respond. The glassy eyes seemed to hold no emotion.
‘Will you be okay, Katie?’
She said nothing. If not for the slight rise and fall of her chest, he might have assumed the video feed had frozen.
‘Dad!’ Julia called out. ‘Come on, you’re going to miss my show.’
Behind Katie, Rose stood.<
br />
He leaned closer to the laptop.
‘Katie, I really am sorry. I mean it when I say, I hope things work out well for you. Especially with the baby. I hope you’re both healthy. But I have to go now.’
Again no response. He wasn’t even sure she had heard. Maybe, like him, she was thinking about the life in her belly, about the terrible hand she had dealt it before it had drawn a first breath. A killer for a father, himself murdered by the mother. And then there was Eve… It was almost too much to comprehend.
He put his hand on the laptop, but couldn’t find the will to shut it. A desire to say something positive suddenly forced him to impart a piece of information he’d had no intention of telling her. ‘I got a letter from my father. He plans to phone me soon. I have you to thank for that.’
Those dead eyes seemed to show a flicker of something, just for a moment, but he was unable to decode it. It could have been gratification, but it might have been envy, or disappointment. Her enduring silence conceded nothing.
Then Rose placed her hand on his, and pushed the lid down, and Katie became white noise.
If you loved PERFECT STRANGER and would like to read more from Jake, then be sure to grab a copy of THE CHOICE.
* * *
You stopped to help her. And now your family’s in danger…
GET IT NOW!
The Choice
‘You’ve got to help me.’
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On a wet road in the black of night, Karl Seabury is driving home to his pregnant wife. Suddenly, caught in his headlights in the middle of the road is a woman shaking with fright.
* * *
The woman says her name is Liz Smith, that her home was attacked, and that she was the only one to escape.
* * *
In a split-second decision, Karl decides to help her to safety. But can he really trust her? Or has he put his family in danger?
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An absolutely unputdownable thriller, with twist after twist after twist, that will leave you breathless. Perfect for fans of Robert Dugoni, John Marrs and Harlan Coben.
Books by Jake Cross
The Choice
The Family Lie
A Letter from Jake
Hi All,
Nothing I’ve ever written went through as many changes as this book, and I barely recognise it as the novel I started two years ago. I reshaped plots, added and replaced scenes, and erased characters off the face of the earth. But finally, I got this thing into the shape it is, and I hope you like it.
If so, please leave a review on Amazon/Kobo/Goodreads/Facebook/Twitter, or your blog or website. They all mean a lot.
If you’d like to keep up to date on other great titles like mine when they’re on special offer, then sign up to Bookouture Deals here:
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Jake.
The Family Lie
You whispered goodnight to your daughter. You didn’t know that would be your last goodbye.
* * *
You wake up in the middle of the night.
* * *
Your five-year-old daughter is gone.
* * *
Your husband is nowhere to be seen.
* * *
Your family think he took her.
* * *
The police believe he’s guilty.
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But he wouldn’t do that, would he?
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He’s a loving father. A loving husband. Isn’t he?
* * *
An addictive and completely gripping psychological thriller with a twist that will blow you away. Fans of The Girl on the Train, K.L. Slater and Shalini Boland won’t be able to put down this jaw-dropping novel.
* * *
Get it here.
Acknowledgements
Thanks to everyone at Bookouture for yet more sheer brilliance. Noelle and Kim gave great advice and this author’s had back-slaps and reality checks at all the right times. Despite having done this writing lark for a while, I still made the mistake of thinking my first draft of this novel was good to go. So the biggest thanks go to my editor, Leodora, who sat me down and said, ‘Not so fast.’
And thanks to my partner, Jen, who was my source of research into all the medical details.
Published by Bookouture in 2019
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An imprint of StoryFire Ltd.
Carmelite House
50 Victoria Embankment
London EC4Y 0DZ
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www.bookouture.com
Copyright © Jake Cross, 2019
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Jake Cross has asserted his right to be identified as the author of this work.
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers.
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eBook ISBN: 978-1-78681-442-5
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events other than those clearly in the public domain, are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.