Ryan whipped round to look where his father-in-law frantically pointed. “Stay here,” he told Rachel before racing up to the figure, Rick following.
Leah looked up, appalled to see her father running right at Reid, who held up his hands and staggered backwards. “Woah.”
“What do you want?” snarled Ryan, grabbing him by the front of his black leather jacket and dragging him out of the trees.
“My dog,” he shrieked. “I’m looking for my dog,” he said, holding up the lead.
Ryan glared at him, deciding the confusion and fear in his eyes was genuine before releasing him. “Sorry.”
“It’s alright,” said Reid, smoothing down his jacket.
“What sort of dog is it?” said Rachel, coming up beside Ryan.
All Leah could do was sit and watch in appalled horror as Reid started chatting to her parents. She was quick to spot the delight in his eyes, delight that he was finally in the presence of Ryan and Rachel Law, the silly bastard. If they only knew who he was and what he’d done they would literally kill him. She felt even worse when her granddad stood beside them, doing his best to play the intimidating heavy and failing miserably.
“We’ll keep an eye out,” said Rachel.
“Thanks,” he replied. “She’s been with me five years now, I don’t know what I’ll do without her.”
Leah had to own that he was good, he was utterly convincing. Even her parents, who could spot a lie a mile off, seemed convinced. After a little chat, which to Leah felt like years, Reid finally turned and left. Her parents glanced at each other with a knowing look. Reid hadn’t fooled them for a second. What had he been thinking, after she’d warned him? He’d just made everything ten times worse.
Ryan and Rachel sat down before Ashley in his small office at the police station.
“We may have a lead,” began Ryan.
Ashley leaned back in his chair. “Do tell?”
It pained Ryan to share information with the police but he wanted this wrapped up as soon as possible and this was preferable to trawling the country for someone whose name he didn’t know.
He recounted their encounter with the black-haired, pierced man, along with a full description.
“Well?” said Ryan when he’d finished and Ashley remained silent.
“Well what? Someone lost their dog. Or is that why you’re here? You want me to find the dog?”
Ryan and Rachel glanced at each other, Ryan outraged while Rachel tried not to laugh before looking back at Ashley.
“Are you serious or is this some sort of humourless joke?” said Ryan.
“Oh, you’re serious,” said Ashley, sitting up straighter. “Right. So, what do you think this man with the dog wanted?”
Ryan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, so Rachel decided to answer.
“We believe he has something to do with what happened to these men,” she said.
“What evidence do you have to link him to it?”
“He made up the story about losing his dog just to get near us.”
“For what reason?”
“You said it was possible that whoever attacked those men was trying to emulate us. For something we didn’t do,” she hastened to add.
“Yes, and?”
“And he came up with that deception to get close to us.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because he was lying.”
“How do you know?”
“Because we can always tell when someone’s lying,” she said, gesturing from herself to Ryan. “Both of us.”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to give me something more concrete than that.”
“Like what?”
“A motive, a name.”
“We don’t have that,” said Ryan, gaze hard.
“Then there’s nothing I can do.”
“His description is pretty unique,” said Rachel, struggling to keep her temper. “Does it ring any bells?”
“Hmmm, not with me but I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll ask around, see what I can find out about your mysterious ‘dog walker’.”
Ryan’s jaw tensed at his patronising tone. “Fine,” he said, getting to his feet, which was difficult as his muscles were so rigid.
“Thank you,” said Rachel politely before following him out.
“Fool,” huffed Ryan as he stalked to the exit.
“To be fair, he did have a point,” said Rachel. “We have no proof. We don’t even know what that guy wanted.”
“We do know.”
“Well, not really. We’re assuming. I think we’re assuming correctly but it’s still an assumption all the same. Police work off evidence.”
“Then it’s fortunate we don’t need evidence.”
“You really think he could be one of the people who attacked those men?”
“I’d say it’s very possible. Alright, what’s wrong?” he said when she frowned.
“What Ashley said made me think - what if we’re wrong?”
“That is something I’m not accustomed to being.”
“But what if our experiences have made us paranoid, seeing danger where there is none?” Rachel thought of her dad, panicking because a stranger had got near them and she felt horribly guilty for doing that to him.
“No, I don’t believe that,” said Ryan. “On the contrary, our experiences have only attuned our senses even more. Rather than see danger where none exists, we sense it even more acutely.”
“Perhaps.”
“You know I’m right.”
“Aren’t you always?” she said wryly.
“So you finally admit it?”
“No, I don’t want you getting a swollen head. So come on then Columbo, how do we find the dog guy?”
“If he does have a foot in the criminal underworld then someone will know him.”
“If we were in Manchester it wouldn’t be a problem but here we have no contact with the local underworld, such as it is. Maybe we should wait and see what Ashley comes up with?”
“Who knows how long that will take or if he’ll even bother? He might have just said all that to get us out of his office.”
“No, I don’t think so. He’s a man of his word.”
“He’s a police officer,” he glowered.
“Believe it or not, there are good ones,” she smiled.
“Hmmm,” was all he said.
“Besides, we’ve got a lot of work coming up. The shopping and cinema complex are nearing completion and we’re in the middle of finalising a few deals. We don’t really have time for going on a wild goose chase. Plus Leah’s seemed really unsettled lately and I don’t want anything upsetting her.”
“It’ll upset her more if this dog walker is a threat and we don’t do anything about it until it’s too late.”
“Oh fine,” she sighed. “We’ll look into it but if we get nowhere you need to let it go.”
“I will,” he said, smiling at the prospect of going on the hunt. “So, where shall we start?”
CHAPTER 18
Charlie and Sam decided to strike again immediately. It would be the last thing the Laws and Maguires were expecting. Plus they wanted to get to Jules before she began to recover. They didn’t want to pose as maintenance men again, that would be too obvious. So they decided to go down the delivery driver route, not realising that had already been done.
“Not more incontinence pads?” sighed the receptionist when they both walked in carrying a large box each.
“Yeah,” said Charlie. “Where do you want them?”
“On your van. We’re drowning in the bloody things. Take them away.”
“But we’ve been told to drop them off here.”
“And I’m telling you to take them back. We didn’t order them and we don’t want them. Why do your company insist on sending us incontinence pads all the time?”
“We don’t,” said a bewildered Charlie.
“Yes you do,” countered the receptionist. She’d l
et the last delivery man bully her into taking them and she was damned if she was going to allow it again. Sister was still giving her pain about that one.
“Look,” said Sam. “Just let us drop them off and we’ll be out of your hair.”
The receptionist strode out from behind the desk, eyes flashing. “You’ll turn right round and get out. You’re not wanted, your boxes aren’t wanted and your stupid incontinence pads certainly aren’t wanted.”
“Alright pet,” said Charlie. “Take it easy.”
“Do not call me pet you patronising little man. Go away.”
Charlie was so annoyed that for a single second he was actually tempted to shoot her with the gun concealed in his jacket. But then thought that would be monumentally stupid. “Fine, we’ll take them away,” he said. “But don’t go crying to us when you run out.”
“We won’t, not with everything your company keeps bringing us. Anyway, we said we weren’t using you again as the last batch you sent set on fire.”
“Fire?” said Charlie. “What did you do to them?”
“Nothing. It must have been the cretin who delivered them. We had to start evacuation procedures.”
“What did the driver look like?” said Sam.
“Ugly, stupid.”
“Could you be more specific?” said Charlie. “You just described most of his family,” he added, gesturing at Sam, hoping to get the receptionist to giggle and calm down a little bit but it failed miserably.
“Black hair and black moustache with a pockmarked face.”
Charlie and Sam glanced at each other, both thinking how that description was a dead ringer for Steve the barman.
“Alright love, relax,” said Charlie. “We’re going.”
“Good,” she said, folding her arms across her chest and watching them leave with a stern expression. Sister was going to be pleased with her.
“What do we do now?” said Sam as they hopped back into the white van they’d borrowed off a friend of Charlie’s for this job. “We’ll never get in that way with that rottweiler there.”
“We could go in as visitors?” said Charlie.
“It’s not like a big hospital where people can wander in and out. There’s a dozen patients at most, we’d be noticed, questions would be asked.”
Charlie sighed and gazed out of the window, deep in thought. “We don’t actually need to get inside the building. Every room has windows. We can just break in through one of them. We already know which room she’s in.”
“Great idea,” said Sam, looking more cheerful.
“We’ll come back after dark,” said Charlie, starting the van’s engine.
“No, don’t know him,” said Battler.
Rachel and Ryan had gone to see Battler and his brother Bruiser at the headquarters of their successful security firm in Torquay, not far from their home in Newton Abbot. Naturally the brothers were their first port of call in the hunt for the mysterious dog man.
“You’re sure he doesn’t ring any bells?” said Ryan.
Battler nodded his big bull’s head. “I never forget a face and he’d stand out. I can ask around though, see what I can find.”
“No, it’s alright,” said Rachel. “I know you’ve got a lot of work on right now.”
“And I told you we’re always here if you need us. You’re our family.”
“We appreciate that Battler but we didn’t come here to get you involved. Plus Bruiser can’t be here as much as he used to be because of Daina and the kids.”
“Not quite,” said Battler. “Belle’s coming in more on the investigative side.”
Belle was the very attractive auburn haired woman who worked the honey traps for Battler and Bruiser. She’d also had a huge crush on Battler for as long as she’d worked for him, although he was the only one who couldn’t see it.
“You’ll still be shorthanded,” she said. “This is something we can take care of ourselves. If you do see anyone who matches his description though, could you let us know?”
Battler puffed air out of his nose like a bull, not looking too happy. “Fine. I’ve enough sense to know that when you’ve made up your mind nothing can change it but if you need back-up you let me know straightaway. Do you swear?”
She smiled. “Swear.”
“Good because you’ve had enough nasty shites coming for you and I’m buggered if any more are going to get near.”
“It won’t get that far,” said Rachel. “It’s probably nothing.”
“Jared Slattery’s still out there, somewhere.”
“The dog man wasn’t from Essex, he was a local boy.”
“And he could be using local muscle to get to you, in order to get at Mikey and Jez. It’s strange how this starts up just as Jules wakes up.”
The thought hadn’t occurred to Rachel but when she glanced at Ryan she saw it had him. No wonder he was so keen to get to the bottom of the mystery.
Charlie and Sam crept through the bushes surrounding the care home, dressed all in black and wearing black balaclavas, just in case there were cameras. Both carried guns.
The home was quiet, just a couple of lights burning inside. They anticipated there would just be a couple of members of staff on to cover the night shift and, best of all, no redoubtable receptionists.
They stuck close to the back of the home, careful to duck down behind the windows. Although the home cared for coma patients they had no idea how many were actually awake.
They were fortunate Jules’s room was at the back of the home. If the guard was outside her door they wouldn’t even know they were there.
“The curtains are closed,” whispered Sam.
Charlie rolled his eyes. How he wished Rob was here. “Course they are,” he whispered back. “It’s night time.”
“What do we do? We don’t know who’s in there.”
Charlie produced a long thin file from inside his jacket and jammed it under the window frame.
“Ssshhh,” said Sam.
“What would I do without you here,” muttered Charlie. He pulled back the file and there was a crack followed by a dull thud then the window slowly swung open. The sound hadn’t been a loud one but they both held their breath, waiting to see if it had alerted anyone. But they could hear nothing.
Taking a deep breath and drawing the gun, Charlie gently pushed aside the curtain. The room was in darkness but as his eyes had already adjusted to the gloom he could just about see, the only sound gentle breathing coming from the figure lying on the bed.
Charlie looked to Sam and nodded before climbing in through the window.
Jules couldn’t sleep. Before the coma she’d only needed a few hours a night to function perfectly well so now, lying about most of the day, not using much energy she found she needed even less sleep. To compound that she’d dropped off after her exercises, so now she was wide awake. Jules smiled into her pillow as she recalled how wondrous it had felt to be able to move her legs again, even if it was in water. She couldn’t believe her entire life she’d taken for granted the fact that she could walk but she resolved never to again. She also wanted to do something to help the victims of coma. As she was on the road to recovery she felt she should give something back, she couldn’t help but feel guilty that she was awake and on the path to rehabilitation when everyone else in the home was still unconscious. As yet she had no idea how she would help but she had access to substantial financial resources and she was determined to use them to do some good.
It was this issue she was pondering in the dark when she heard the noise, something at the window. There was a dull thud followed by the unmistakeable sound of wood cracking.
Jules’s heart beat harder. Someone was breaking in through the window.
She lay absolutely still, working out what she should do. If she yelled for Shane, who was on the other side of the door with Paula, she might bring the staff running. The last person who had come for her had brought a gun and there was no reason to suppose that whoever had come for h
er now hadn’t done the same. She refused to put the staff here in danger.
Her only other option was her mobile phone. As her curtain stirred she picked up the mobile phone off her bedside cabinet and slid it beneath the duvet to type out a frantic message to Shane. But her lack of coordination meant she kept hitting the wrong buttons. Jez had given her a special adapted handset with large keys, which were easier for her to press. It was basic, practically a relic from the stone age but she couldn’t manage anything more technical yet. Despite the large keys she still kept hitting the wrong ones and she wanted to scream with frustration.
A thud indicated they were in the room with her and she kept absolutely still, thinking playing possum might be a good idea. If they thought she was asleep it might give her time to think of something. What she had no idea but something, anything.
Then it struck her. Her phone had a camera on it and a camera meant a flash. But after she’d dazzled them, what then? Fuck it, she was going for it. She had nothing else.
Jules brought up the camera on the phone and switched on the flash. Fortunately her not too dextrous fingers were willing to cooperate with this task, as though her crippled body had realised that this was about its very survival.
Taking a deep breath she rolled onto her side, threw back the duvet and aimed the camera in the face of the figure looming over her. She closed her own eyes when the flash went off and there was a cry of surprise and the figure stumbled, tripping over their own feet, landing on the side of the bed. Jules opened her eyes, saw the gun in their hand and made a clumsy grab for it. Unfortunately their grasp on the weapon was too tight and she failed but she flashed the camera in his eyes again, making sure to close her own first and followed this up immediately by snatching up the clock off her bedside cabinet and smashing it into his forehead. Normally this blow would have rendered her assailant unconscious but her arms lacked the strength. However it still dazed her opponent and their legs crumpled beneath them.
When Jules saw a second figure climbing in through the window she knew she had to call for help otherwise she was dead. But before she had the chance that figure was suddenly yanked backwards out of the window, feet last, vanishing from her view.
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