Blood Ties: Obsession, secrets, desire and murder (A Jack Le Claire Mystery)

by Kelly Clayton

  She quickly complied. He could hear her trampling over the broken glass in her haste for freedom. The man had fallen to his knees, still clutching his stomach. They needed to get out of here and fast. Le Claire turned to follow Ana. Suddenly, he crashed to the ground. The man had recovered his wits enough to grab Le Claire by the ankles. He fell onto his back, and the shadowed figure was on him in moments. He quickly pushed his hands down as he tried to raise himself up but winced as his palm made contact with broken glass. That damned champagne flute.

  The man bore down on Le Claire and lunged forward, his arm outstretched. There was something in his hand. Moonlight glinted off a shard of glass. The man was atop Le Claire, the glass at his throat. He struggled and felt the sharp sting as skin was broken. The smell of blood was sharp and pungent. His hands were around the man’s wrist, pushing him back. His attacker had the advantage, his elevated position allowing him to pin Le Claire to the floor.

  He twisted and caught his ankles around the man’s right calf; using his weight, he scissored his legs and rotated his attacker. Le Claire was on top. There was no time for finesse. He smashed a fist into his opponent’s face, grabbed a handful of his jacket, pulled him up and punched him again. The man lay still, unmoving. The only sound was his groaning.

  Le Claire ran to Ana. “Come on, let’s go. You can tell me later what the hell you’re doing here.”

  Her voice was strained. “I could ask you the same thing. Thank you so much…”

  Her voice faltered, and he knew the enormity of the situation she had just escaped, and its possible outcomes, had shaken her. He nodded and inched out the back door, quickly checking the outdoor area. No one was there. A tall brick wall, over six feet, enclosed the garden. Le Claire looked at his shirtfront. It was spotted with blood, and the collar had been ripped in the fight. They couldn’t double back and go out the front. Who knew who’d be waiting there, even if only to say good night to the guests? Searching in his pocket, he pulled out his multi-tool and, with a flick, switched on a torch, which illuminated the garden with its sharp beam. He ran the light around the perimeter, stopping with relief when he saw an arched wooden gate set into the wall.

  “We’re going to have to hurry and be very quiet. Can you run in those?” He eyed her high-heeled shoes with suspicion.

  “I’ll be okay. I can always take them off later if needed.”

  “Let’s go. Stay close behind me.”

  The wooden gate was a simple latch affair. “We’ll go straight across the fields. I have a car perhaps fifteen minutes away. Come on.”

  They were just a fraction too late.

  The kitchen lights flashed on as two men rushed out. Le Claire pushed Ana through the gate. “Run. Head for the trees. I’ll follow as soon as I can.”

  All the while, Le Claire was searching for his next move. He’d happily take on either one of them, but he’d struggle with both, and he had Ana to think of. He moved farther into the shadows. He rocked gently on the balls of his feet, readying himself.

  The taller of the two asked, “Who the hell are you?”

  Le Claire didn’t speak, just leapt forward and caught the shorter of the two, who was still nearly six feet, with a quick jab. It glanced off the man’s jaw but startled him enough to buy some time. The taller man circled around and caught Le Claire a blow from behind. Winded, he bent over, and as he did he kicked his leg back and caught the man direct on the kneecap. The groan of pain was unmistakable. Without missing a beat, Le Claire spun around and punched him in the stomach and threw a side kick at the second man, who had recovered enough to join the fray. Both went down, but that wouldn’t last for long.

  Le Claire quickly covered the ground to the open gate. Ana had gone through it but no farther. She stood trembling, tensed against the wall. Le Claire grabbed her hand and commanded, “Keep low.”

  He started to pull her across the fields that backed onto the property. Heavy with corn, the swaying crop gave them a modicum of protection. They were crouched low, but he knew a decent beam would easily track them. He scanned the area in front of them. There was a copse of trees to the far left corner of the fields, and he headed in that direction, a stumbling Ana following. He could hear a commotion behind them, from the direction of the house. Raised voices, many of them, car engines revving. Were people being taken home? He guessed he’d ruined their evening’s fun.

  The shouts were getting louder, closer. Le Claire could hear Ana’s rasping breath and figured her heart would be madly pumping adrenalin through her body, the same way it raced through his.

  “Wait. Stop.” Ana’s voice was hoarse, and she pulled on Le Claire’s arm to release her.

  He stopped, didn’t hide the impatience in his voice. “We have to keep going.”

  “Just wait a second, please?” She leaned on him for support as she removed both her shoes. Holding them in one hand, she said. “Come on, then, I’m ready.”

  “Fast as you can, we’re heading for the trees.”

  They ran side by side, no longer hidden, as an undoubtedly later crop of corn only reached to their waists. They ran fast, hearts pounding; even then Le Claire could hear the thundering steps behind them. Two men, maybe more. He heard a wheezed shout, looked back and saw one man stop, hands on thighs as he bent over. His voice was hoarse but still carried across the air to Le Claire. “Keep after them.”

  They needed to reach the car. Le Claire kept going but ran a hand across his chest as he did so. The small bump in his inside pocket confirmed that the car key was safe. Ana was keeping up with him. Once they reached the camouflage of the trees, he figured they’d veer right, hug the tree line and come out on the lane parallel to the one where he’d left the car. Not for the first time he was thankful that he knew this island so well. He regretted that he didn’t have a phone with him. The instructions had said no mobiles, and he hadn’t wanted to take the risk of being searched. Their pounding feet were rhythmic as they beat a path through the corn, their pursuers close behind. Le Claire increased his speed and ran slightly ahead of Ana. She followed. He ran into the tree line and turned to the right. The mass of foliage would give them some protection, although it was a more difficult passage and wasn’t a straight run.

  There was a chance their followers might run straight through the woods, following the clear path. Le Claire glanced back. No such luck. One man had run directly ahead, but another was following, even as he called for his friend. Le Claire heard a muffled oath. Ana had stumbled, stopped and was rubbing a stocking-clad foot. “You okay?”

  “Yes, yes, fine.”

  She looked behind her, and when she turned back to Le Claire, there was a look of determination on her face. She started to run, wincing a little, and then her features settled into a taut, tight look. “I can do it.”

  She was masking her fear well. She’d just been assaulted, and now she was running through the woods from a couple of maniacs. He kept his voice calm, even though he knew he was getting slightly out of breath. “Good girl.”

  It must have come from somewhere deep within them, but they increased their pace, driven by the threat behind them, closing in. The trees were thinning out in front of them. “Look, through there. There’s an opening onto the lane. I’m parked not far from here.”

  Or at least he hoped he was. It was pitch-dark, he was disorientated and he couldn’t be entirely certain of his directions, but he had to be positive or they were both doomed.

  They ran on, ducking down to avoid low branches, and he noticed the trees were growing sparser, which accounted for the thick shafts of moonlight that illuminated their path. Suddenly, the trees ended and they were in open space. In front of them lay a low bank that dropped to the lane. Le Claire looked around, thankfully got his bearings. “This way, that’s the church spire. Get in front of me.”

  Their feet pounded on the tarmac. He had to give Ana credit as her soles would be ripped to shreds. Hopefully, that would be the only casual
ty of tonight. The few houses they raced past were mostly in darkness. The moon cast a preternatural glow. He’d have preferred it be hidden by cloud.

  He could hear their followers. Above the pounding of his heart, which echoed in his ears, he could hear their own footsteps and Ana’s gasps. He had to push their pursuers to the back of his mind and focus on the road ahead. He had to keep going. They were almost at the end of the lane. There were streetlights ahead, and he could see the odd car passing the intersecting road. Nearly there. He reached into his jacket and took out the keys, held them tight.

  The men were getting closer. He looked at Ana. She was starting to weary, and her steps were getting slower. “Come on, Ana – not long now.”

  They reached the end of the lane – they’d made it. He couldn’t see the men chasing them once they were on the main road. Too many lights, still a few cars and even late-night revellers walking home.

  Ana turned round, her face clearly illuminated. Her eyes widened in fear, and Le Claire saw the moment, as if in slow motion, as she stumbled and collapsed to the ground with a scream. The men kept coming. He bent, picked her up in his arms and ran into the road. He saw lights ahead, a car crawling along as if looking for something, as if patrolling. A police car. They revved the engine, and he knew they’d seen him. He looked behind him; their pursuers had seen the car as well. They stopped, and he saw one pull out a phone, make a call and both turned tail and ran.

  He gently placed Ana on the pavement and carefully checked for injuries. He sat back on his haunches in relief. Nothing looked serious.

  The driver of the police car was Hunter. At any other time, the look of relief on the young PC’s face would have been comical. But there was no place for that tonight. “There was a tracker on Blair’s car, standard MO for undercover. When you didn’t report in at midnight, the chief sent me to do a patrol around the area where the car was parked.”

  Le Claire simply nodded. “Head for the hospital and then call it in and get a car out here. The house we’re looking for backs onto the cornfields at the side of the old woods. Tell them to call me when they’re by the fields. They can talk me through what they can see. We’ll find that place tonight.”

  Le Claire gently laid Ana on the backseat of the car. Her eyes flickered open. Her voice was hoarse. “What happened?”

  “You fell. You’ll be fine, but I want someone to take a look at your ankle and give you something for your feet.”

  He hesitated, unsure of how to broach what he knew was a necessity. He didn’t know Ana that well, but he had always thought she was an honest and trustworthy girl. In the time she’d worked for his father, he had never seen anything to contradict that impression. “I have a favour to ask of you, Ana. I can’t tell you why I was at that party, but it is vital that nobody knows that I, or any police officer, was there tonight. I would like you not to lie exactly, but just to say that a man in a mask came to your rescue. I’ll come and have a proper chat with you tomorrow, but can you do this for me?”

  Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated and face flushed. She would soon come down from the adrenalin burst that would have rushed through her system, and she’d want to sleep, heavily. He wanted to be sure she understood before that happened.

  “Yes, of course. I get it. A man in a mask saved me.” Her smile was disarming. “It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

  He climbed into the front seat, and they headed for town. His head was throbbing with what had to be done. Finding the exact house was first and foremost, searching it was next and after that he’d turn his mind to what was behind Ana’s attack.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  After leaving Ana at the hospital, Le Claire headed to the station. He had to pass the incident room, and as he glanced in, he saw a couple of uniforms hunched over their desks. The overhead lights were off, and the room was cloaked in inky darkness apart from the two occupied workstations. Each unit was spotlit by a solitary desk lamp that cast a pool of yellow light across keyboards and piles of paper. “Fernandez, Peterson, how’s it going?” Both men looked up, their wary looks giving way to recognition. Fernandez’s grin was cheeky as he made a mock show of eyeing up Le Claire’s bedraggled dinner suit and checked his watch. “Fine, sir. You on the late shift?”

  Le Claire smiled. It must be 3:00 a.m. by now. “I guess. Keep on at it. Good night.”

  He headed to his office and closed the door behind him, grimacing as a twinge of pain shot across his back and into his shoulder. Ana’s attacker had got a couple of good punches in. He’d been surprised by the first one, which caught him on his undefended side. Was the guy left-handed? He’d remember that when he came across him next time. He eased off his jacket and threw it over the back of the desk chair. His trousers came next. They’d be headed for the dry cleaners once the CSI team was done with them. His shirt was ripped and bloodstained. Some was definitely his. At the thought, his tongue darted out, and he tentatively licked the corner of his mouth. It stung like mad, and he gagged in reflex at the strong taste of bitter blood. He rummaged in his filing cabinet and pulled out the spare jeans and T-shirt he kept there. He eased the shirt over his aching shoulders and grabbed a leather jacket hanging behind the door. He only had his dress shoes, but they’d have to do.

  He was soon back in the incident room, where he saw Hunter and Cobb hanging about by the hot drinks machine. “Come on, guys, you’re with me. I’ll meet you downstairs. You drive, Hunter.”

  He wasn’t going to risk getting stopped for drunk driving. He didn’t think the fact he had only drunk the champagne in the line of duty would go down too well.

  He checked the time. Damn. It was gone 03:30 a.m. He shrugged and dialled the number. He had no choice.

  One ring, two, three, four – please don’t say he was in a deep sleep. That would be another black mark against him. The call was answered with a gruff, “Yes?”

  “Sir, it’s Le Claire. There has been a situation.”

  The next time the chief spoke, any vestige of sleep had fled his voice. “I’m moving into my study. I take it you know what time it is? Just start telling me what the position is.”

  Le Claire quickly brought him up-to-date. There was heavy silence. He couldn’t help the wave of apprehension that swept through him, as if waiting for the headmaster to tell him off. The situation wasn’t without its parallels.

  “Christ. What a cock-up.”

  The criticism stung, and Le Claire was about to try and defend himself when his boss carried on. “There was nothing else you could do. You couldn’t leave the girl. I may not want Blair’s position compromised, but that girl could have been raped if you hadn’t stepped in. Mind you, did you have to let it evolve into a full-on chase across St Mary? If anyone saw that, the phones won’t stop ringing, and the conspiracy theorists will be on full alert.”

  “Sorry, sir, but we had to get away, and I didn’t exactly have many options.” And there was an understatement.

  “Don’t get uppity. You did what you had to. What now?”

  “I’ve got men stationed near the party house. I want to go back there and see what we can find, talk to anyone who is still there.”

  “By the sounds of it, they’ll have scarpered, or they will if they’ve any sense. This mask thing makes me think that there would be some well-known faces who attended that party.” His long-drawn sigh was replaced with acquiescence. “I’ll organise a search warrant. I’m up now, so I may as well ruin someone else’s sleep as well. Make the search about the attack. Not the drugs, nor the heavy-handed bully boys. I don’t want Blair’s investigation jeopardised, but neither do I want the slimeball who attacked the girl to get away with it.”

  #

  The house was easy enough to find once you were in the area running off the woods. The property lay in a leafy lane, and the front perimeter was protected by the same high wall that ran around the back. They drove past it and parked several metres away. As they backtracked along the narrow
lane, Le Claire could see the top windows of the house. They were in darkness. He motioned for Hunter and Cobb to stop and listened carefully. There was no noise coming from the property. He looked on top of the wall and saw with surprise that the security cameras were gone. Had the party’s organisers installed their own cameras, all the better to film the arriving and departing guests? His gaze shifted, and he saw that the tall wooden entrance gates were slightly ajar. He pushed them open and motioned for the waiting uniforms who made up the advance team to follow him in.

  The courtyard was empty of parked cars and the front door closed. The entire house lay in darkness, no lights and no sign of occupation. He took his cue from the unlatched gate they’d walked through and tried the front-door handle. It gave way with ease. Even as they walked into the hallway, Le Claire sensed what they would find. Nothing. The house was silent, and Le Claire opened his mouth to speak when he stopped. His throat was burning with a fierceness that made him choke. His eyes had started to stream, and he rapidly blinked, trying to clear them. “Christ, what the hell is this?” The distinctive smell made him rear back. Bleach, and massively strong stuff at that.

  He pointed to the advance team. “You two search the place; let’s do it by the book.” Hunter was next. “Right, get Vanguard on the phone. Tell him to get his team down here. I want this place gone over with a fine pair of tweezers.” As he spoke the words, he already knew it probably wouldn’t do any good; these people were professionals. They’d cleared the place, cleaned it, they’d even disinfected. It smacked of experience. They had done this time and time again.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Le Claire had gone home and grabbed a couple of hours of sleep. After a hurried bowl of cereal, he went to deal with what would no doubt be his most challenging task of the day.