Secrets and Lies: A Collection of Heart-stopping Psychological Thrillers

by M K Farrar

  Liv opened her mouth to say something, and then snapped it shut again. She’d be throwing Michael into the lion’s den, and possibly for no reason, if she said something. He would never forgive her if she told the police she thought he could be involved in the deaths of two young women. The cops thought both deaths were suicide. They were professionals. They must have good reason for thinking such a thing.

  “How ...” Her voice broke, and she cleared her throat, composing herself. She tried again. “How did she do it?”

  “It was a drugs overdose,” D.C. Mayfair, the male half of the duo, said. “Cocaine. We believe she has a history of drug abuse, which probably led to her mentally fragile state.”

  Liv shook her head. “She was a party girl, that was all. It was recreational. It’s not as though she was sitting on the street doing it.”

  The woman officer frowned slightly at her, obviously reading the myriad of expressions flitting across Liv’s face. “Is there something you’d like to tell us? Something you’ve thought of?”

  “Oh, no, not really.”

  “When was the last time you saw Tamsin alive?”

  She could tell her now, that it had been when she’d come home early and seen Michael leaving, shortly followed by Tammy. But if she did, they’d question Michael, and they’d want to know why they’d all argued, and then the medication she was on was bound to be brought up, and if that was mentioned, they’d be sure to look into her past. It was a can of worms she didn’t want to open.

  If Tammy had killed herself, Liv wouldn’t be helping anyone by bringing all that up. She’d only be causing trouble for all those left behind.

  “When she left for work Friday morning,” she said instead. “She didn’t seem any different than any other day.”

  The officer gave a tight smile and snapped her notebook shut. “Okay.” She reached out, and Liv saw she was holding something out to her. It was a business card. “If you think of anything at all that might be of interest to us, please, do call.”

  She took the card. “I will.”

  The officers got to their feet, and Liv showed them to the door. They both gave her polite smiles as they stepped out into the hallway, and Liv gently closed the door on them.

  Her limbs trembled, her hands shaking and her legs weak. An empty chasm had appeared where her stomach used to be. She managed to get back over to the couch and sank down onto the cushions. In shock, she covered her mouth with her hand. Tammy, dead? She struggled to even think of it. How can someone who had been walking around the flat only days before now simply no longer exist?

  She needed to see Michael and find out what was said between him and Tammy when he last saw her. Did he say something to her that made her do what she had? The possibility seemed crazy, but she had to know, if only to put her own mind to rest.

  Liv found her phone, and her trembling hand caused her to misdial, but then she pulled up his number and swiped the screen to call him. He answered after the second ring, as though he’d been waiting for her to call.

  “Liv,” he said, his tone serious. “Is everything okay?”

  That simple question caused her to burst into tears. “No. No, it’s not. Nothing is okay,” she managed to say between choked, hitching breaths.

  “Why? What’s happened?”

  “It’s Tammy,” she blurted. “She’s dead.”

  “What?” The word was a snapped syllable.

  Liv stifled a sob, her knuckles pressed against her mouth. “The police were just here. They think she killed herself.”

  “God, that’s awful. Are you all right?”

  “No, I’m not. I need to see you.”

  He hesitated, and then said, “Are you at home?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

  The line went dead.

  Liv put her head in her hands. She was caught in a nightmare, and she didn’t know how to escape. She wanted someone to tell her this was all a mistake, and they’d wrongly identified the body. Tammy might never have been her favourite person, but she never would have wanted her dead. Was she really going through the sort of depression that would cause someone to take their own life? Liv knew that kind of depression—she’d skated on the edges of it many times before—and it was intense and solitary and often messy. But maybe Tammy had hidden it well. She had seemed her usual self when she’d left the flat on Friday afternoon. Liv had assumed that was because she’d just spent the previous hour or so fucking her boyfriend, but Michael had promised her that hadn’t been the case. But then what had she been doing at the flat? She should have been working that afternoon. Had she called in sick? Was this something the police had looked into?

  Liv hadn’t moved from her spot on the couch and was surprised when the buzzer to the door sounded. She’d lost track of time, so caught up in her thoughts. The sound immediately sent her stomach rolling like the inside of a washing machine. What was she going to say to him? Did she truly believe he might be connected in the deaths of two women? And, if she was, should she even be alone with him right now?

  If they did it to themselves, how could Michael possibly be involved? The police didn’t think there was anything suspicious going on.

  Yes, but the police didn’t know about the connection between Tammy and Holly Newie—if Holly was even the same girl she’d seen Michael arguing with. Michael said he didn’t think it was, and if it wasn’t, then there was no connection, and she was drawing lines where there weren’t any.

  The buzzer went again, insistent. She couldn’t leave him standing outside when she’d basically invited him over.

  Her legs felt like rubber, her bowels weak and watery, as she made her way over to the door and hit the button to let him up. She waited until she heard the lift coming to a halt on her floor, and then opened the door.

  Michael stepped out, his handsome face pinched in concern. In her head, she started to imagine him as some kind of monster who was wandering around driving women to do unspeakable things, but now he was here, she saw it was only him—the man she’d grown to know and care about over the last month.

  He caught her eye and offered her a sympathetic smile. “Hey,” he said softly.

  “Hi,” she replied, suddenly choked with emotion.

  He pulled her in and hugged her tight. She froze in his grip, still caught up in a whirlwind of confusion, making no effort to hold him back.

  He must have figured out her body language and untangled himself from her. “What’s wrong?”

  She couldn’t talk about this in the middle of the hall. She grabbed his hand and tugged him inside the flat and shut the door behind them.

  Liv turned to face him. “As far as I know, you were the last one to see Tammy alive.”

  He frowned, shaking his head. “I saw her briefly when I came to get my jacket. That was all.”

  “What was she doing here?”

  His frown deepened. “What?”

  “She should have been at work, but she was here, with you. Why?”

  He shrugged. “I have no idea. She didn’t say.”

  “But you knew someone was here in order for you to pick up the jacket, and you never called me.”

  “I called the landline, and Tammy picked up. I wasn’t going to start questioning why she was in her own flat.”

  “You were arguing with her. I heard you from outside.”

  “I already explained that to you. I told her that her behaviour the other day was out of order.” He huffed out a breath of exasperation. “What is this? A fucking inquisition?”

  She jammed her hands on her hips and tried to hold her nerve. He was too good at breaking her down, of making her do what he wanted. Was that what he’d done with Holly Newie and Tamsin, too? Had he somehow convinced them to hurt themselves?

  “I’m allowed to ask questions, Michael. It would be strange if I wasn’t questioning what happened. Try to see things from my point of view. Tammy started an argument between us a week ago, and
then I don’t see or hear from you—”

  He cut her off, pointing a finger at her. “I didn’t see or hear from you either, Liv. Don’t make out like this is all one-sided. You could have easily picked up the phone, too.”

  He was trying to turn the conversation away from Tammy, but she wouldn’t let him. “And then I catch you here at the flat with her, and the next thing I know she’s dead. Now, you’re telling me that was all completely unconnected.”

  His eyes narrowed, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “I hope you didn’t say any of this to the police.”

  “Why? What have you got to hide?”

  “Nothing! But the last thing I need right now is the police poking around. You think I want to be associated with a young woman’s death? You know how bad that will look? Jesus, Liv, sometimes I don’t think you live in the real world.”

  She burst into tears again, turning her face and angling her body away from him.

  “Oh, Livvy. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m being an insensitive arse.” He caught hold of her arm and pulled her back around. “Come here.”

  This time, when he tugged her in to hold her, she let him. She needed that confirmation of life, of touch and comfort. His strong arms wrapped around her, and she pressed her face to his chest, crying into his t-shirt. He was warm and smelled so good, and she clung to his back, rumpling the material of his shirt between her fists like a baby with a comforter.

  When her tears subsided, she lifted her face from his chest. Her cheeks burned with humiliation at her show of emotion, and she looked away. But his touch under her chin lifted her face to his, and he kissed away her tears. The feel of his mouth on hers helped to soften away all the sharp edges of anxiety that had been slicing her to pieces all week. This was just Michael. There was no reason to think his explanation of things weren’t the correct ones. Tammy probably saw a ton of people after she’d seen Michael at the flat, and the people Tammy hung out with weren’t exactly the naïve, innocent types either.

  His hands tangled in her hair as their kisses grew deeper and more frantic. She pressed herself up against the hard planes of his body, wanting him to make her forget everything else. He could make her feel good, could calm her racing mind, and she needed that right now. He reached under her bottom and lifted her, her legs wrapping around his hips as he carried her into the bedroom. They dropped to the bed, with her still straddling him. His hardness pressed against the intimate spot between her thighs, and she gasped, grinding harder. Their breathing came ragged, their tongues lashing. Hair was pulled, bite marks left on skin, as though they were both pleasuring and punishing each other at the same time.

  She felt as though she was sinking and he was the life raft for her to cling onto. Because that was what a drowning person did. Even if the raft was full of holes and coming to pieces at the edges, if that was all you had, you still clutched it tight and prayed it would save you.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Four Days Earlier

  MICHAEL STAYED THE whole night.

  The following morning, he made them both coffee, and then kissed her as he left for work, almost as though they were a regular couple. Only the empty bedroom across the hall where her flatmate should have been sleeping was like a vast, empty chasm, sucking all positive thought from Liv’s head and swallowing it whole.

  She did her best to feel happy about Michael, but it was impossible to be happy about anything when Tammy’s young life had been cut so short. Had she really been so unhappy? A horrible part of Liv wondered if there was more she could have done. After all, she’d spent the previous week ignoring Tammy. Had she made things worse? Had she actually been the reason Tammy had taken an overdose? But Tammy had been the one to start that fight, and it wasn’t as though she’d acted like she’d cared. If anything, Tammy acted as though she got a kick out of the argument, like a part of her had enjoyed trying to rip Liv’s relationship to shreds. Liv had never wanted Tammy to tell Michael about her meds, but at least now it was out in the open. He didn’t know all of her past, and she hoped he never would, but—as much as Tammy’s heart hadn’t been in the right place—she’d been right when she’d said she’d saved Liv that awkward conversation.

  When Olivia got to work, she went straight to Tony’s office to tell him what had happened. He needed to know the reason she seemed upset at work, and there was even the chance the police might stop by with more questions. Either way, it seemed like the right thing to do. She needed to tell Ellen as well. Ellen hadn’t known Tammy well, but they were acquaintances, and this kind of thing always came as a shock.

  “Take some time off, if you need it,” Tony told her. “This must all be terribly upsetting for you.”

  But she shook her head. “I’d rather be here, staying busy, than home in an empty flat. Everywhere I look, I see memories of her. I don’t believe in ghosts, but I can kind of understand why people might feel like they’re seeing one.”

  “Of course. Whatever you need.”

  “Thanks, Tony.”

  He was a good man. She’d been unfair to him. A twinge of guilt went though her at laughing over him and his fruit basket with Michael. He’d been trying to be nice, and she hadn’t appreciated him at all.

  “What’s going on?” Ellen hissed at her as she came out of the office.

  Liv pressed her lips together and caught Ellen’s arm to pull her away. She didn’t want to be the talk of the office. A couple of the others had met Tammy, but only in passing. She knew word would get around quickly enough that her flatmate had died, but for the moment she was happier if it was as few as possible.

  “Let’s go and grab a coffee.”

  She caught Tony’s eye through the window dividing his office from the rest of their desks and pointed towards the door to show she was going out. He’d just told her to take time, if she needed it, so she was sure he wouldn’t mind her stealing Ellen for half an hour.

  The two women left the building.

  “Tell me what’s going on?” Ellen insisted when they got outside.

  Liv found herself blinking back tears again. “It’s Tammy. She killed herself at the weekend.”

  Ellen’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. “What? How? Why?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. The police say it was an overdose, but I can’t believe she’d do something like that on purpose. She just wasn’t like that.”

  Ellen clutched her hand to her mouth. “Jesus Christ. So you were right to worry about her not coming home. I’m so sorry.” She must have thought of something else. “Didn’t you say Michael was there with her on Friday afternoon? And then she shows up dead?”

  Liv could see where Ellen’s train of thought was going. She didn’t blame her—after all, hadn’t she thought exactly the same thing?

  “Michael didn’t have anything to do with it, Elles. I’ve already spoken to him. In fact, he stayed over last night because I didn’t want to be on my own.”

  If such a thing was possible, Ellen’s mouth dropped even further. “You were in the flat with him on your own all of last night. Fucking hell, Liv. Why didn’t you call me? No one else knew the two of you were together. What if he had something to do with Tammy killing herself, and then he tried something with you? None of us would be any the wiser.”

  A bubble of irritation rose inside her. “He explained everything. He just called around to pick up his jacket, that’s all. He barely knew Tammy.”

  “I’m worried about you being around him, Liv. What if he’s dangerous?”

  She gave a small, cold laugh. “He’s not dangerous.”

  “No? What do you really know about this guy?”

  “I know enough. I know what he does for a living, and what he likes to read and what music he listens to. I know how he likes his steak cooked and that he doesn’t take sugar in his tea.”

  She lifted her eyebrows. “Is that enough?”

  “Well, how much do we ever really know about another person?” She couldn’t help her mind
going to her own situation. In truth, Ellen knew far less about Liv than Liv did about Michael.

  Ellen pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I don’t know, sweetie. I’m just worried about you. You know I got a bad feeling about him that first time we met, and now with all this other stuff coming up ... You can’t honestly say you feel one hundred percent happy with all of this either.”

  “I don’t feel happy with it at all,” she admitted.

  “So, take a step back. Have some space, at least. Tammy’s death is a huge shock, even if the two of you weren’t close. The last thing you need is the worry that Michael might have been involved.”

  “I don’t really think that,” she interrupted. “Please don’t think that. I would go to the police if I believed he was involved in any way. I just wish I hadn’t seen him coming out of the flat that day.”

  She reached out and squeezed Liv’s hand. “It’s better that you know. At least this way you can make a decision with your eyes open. But I really do think you should keep away from Michael for a little while. You haven’t been quite right since you met him, and now with what’s happened with Tammy ...” She trailed off and shrugged. “I just think you should put some space between you, that’s all.”

  She didn’t like what Ellen was saying. Perhaps it was because so many of her words were echoing her own thoughts from the previous night when she’d confronted Michael. But she’d put that behind her. She and Michael had slept together again, and he’d promised her he had nothing to do with Tammy killing herself, or Holly Newie, who Ellen didn’t even know about. But still she felt her defences rise.

  “You’ve never liked Michael, so I don’t expect you to take his side now.”

  “Hey, this isn’t about sides. I’m on your side. I always will be.”

  Her hackles had risen, and she shook her head. “No, you’d be happier if Michael and I weren’t together. It would mean you wouldn’t feel so bad about not having Ryan around now.”

  Something in Ellen’s blue eyes hardened. “At least I haven’t chased Ryan around. At least I knew who he was before I got so involved with him.”