Driven by Fear (The DS Lasser Book 27)

by Robin Roughley

  'There's definitely something about that man,' he continued to rock back and forth, his expression one of deep thought.

  53

  Bannister sat at the kitchen table, a bowl of Big Soup in front of him along with two slices of bread.

  The patio doors were open, chill night air drifted into the kitchen. 'Another day, another dollar,' he said as he moved the spoon around in the soup, his appetite shrinking by the second.

  When his phone trilled, he checked the number and rose to his feet before heading for the patio.

  'All right, Odette, have you found something?'

  'Well, I haven't but Roger's come up with something interesting.'

  'I'm all ears,' the DCI said as he lit a cigarette.

  'You were right about Jepson, he owns a lot of land, and money is not an issue for the man.'

  'He told us that himself,' Bannister said with a slight frown. 'He was even up front about how his ancestors made their money, basically using slavery to build the fortune.'

  'He told you that?' Odette asked in surprise.

  Bannister stifled a yawn before blowing the smoke out, watching as it drifted away into the darkness. 'Jepson came straight out with it, he talked about the stigma and how he wished he could change the past.'

  'Well, he's done plenty of charitable work that's for sure.'

  'So, he's clean?' Bannister asked feeling the disappointment weigh down on his shoulders.

  'Looks that way,' Odette paused, 'though Roger did find a link of sorts. It appears that Jepson owns land in North Wales.'

  'He told us about that as well, a few acres, the tenants run the place as a garden centre.'

  'That's right, but the thing is that Julie Emmeret worked at that garden centre for a few years before she moved into her job for the council.'

  Bannister's eyes widened slightly at the news. 'Really?'

  'When she left school, she went onto college and then university in Bangor, but any spare time she had was spent working at the garden centre, all told she was there for around eight years.'

  Bannister thought about what Odette was saying as he took another pull on the cigarette. 'According to Jepson, he hadn't been over there for around ten years and the fact is we have no idea if he was even aware of Julie Emmeret's existence, he claimed he'd heard about the hit and run on the news but no more than that.'

  He heard Odette sigh and felt her disappointment.

  'But it's a link and still needs checking.'

  'We thought we might have been onto something.'

  'Well, the best way to find out is to scrap the grilling of Brewster and you and Rog head over to North Wales first thing and have a word with the owners of this garden centre. I'll contact the Welsh force as a courtesy, we don't want to put anyone's nose out of joint over this.'

  'Are you sure?' she asked.

  'Positive, we need to know more about Emmeret, all we have are the basics and we need to speak to someone who knew her personally and let's face it, we don't believe in coincidences. She worked at the garden centre and Jepson owns the place and yet she was found here on land also owned by him.'

  'OK, we'll head over there early doors.'

  'Whoever runs the garden centre, see if they can remember the last time Jepson was there and if his story marries up with theirs.'

  'Will do.'

  'She was taken for a reason, she was chosen…'

  'Chosen?' Odette broke in.

  'That's what I think, this wasn't just some weirdo who snatches a woman on a twisted whim, this was planned with an endgame in mind.'

  'We'll see what we can find out,' she promised.

  Bannister flicked his ash to the ground before wandering out onto the lawn, the flowerbeds crammed with daffodils, even in the darkness the yellow was vibrant to the eyes.

  'And I still think that whoever took Draper is linked to this,' he came to a halt in the middle of the lawn, the grass needed cutting, another job to add to the things-to-do list.

  'Which means there must be at least two of them involved.'

  'Because the hulk who took Draper wasn't built for running?' Bannister queried.

  'If he's as big as we believe then Julie Emmeret would have left him miles behind.'

  Bannister grunted in agreement. 'Just out of curiosity, do we know if Jepson is a keen runner? Is there any mention of him doing a run for charity, that kind of thing?'

  'Nothing so far but there's still a lot to read on the guy.'

  Bannister thought about Jepson tall and lean his legs long. 'He looks like a runner to me.'

  'We'll bear that in mind.'

  'Good work, you two,' he said before tapping at the screen to end the call.

  Standing in the cool evening air, he tilted his head to the night sky the smoke trailing upwards as he watched the stars shining.

  'Love you, Sue,' he whispered before turning and heading back to the house.

  54

  'Are you sure you're OK?'

  Erin had the phone to her ear, she was standing in the kitchen, the slow cooker simmering, the smell of beef casserole filling the room. 'Honest I'm fine,' she replied, trying to quell the sense of tension that fluttered inside.

  'One of the machines has gone down and needs sorting. They asked me to stay, 'I tried to get out of it, but they are adamant. I'm sorry.'

  'Look, just take your time don't rush, your supper will be ready for you when you get home,' she replied, her eyes fixed on the darkened kitchen window, the shadowed garden adding to her deep feeling of unease.

  'OK, I'd better get started. I love you, Erin.'

  'Love you too,' she answered as she nibbled at her bottom lip.

  The phone beeped and she slipped it into her pocket before reaching out and dropping the blind over the darkened window.

  Earlier she had mowed the grass, but even then, the feeling of unease had pressed at her senses as she walked slowly back and forth, leaving tram lines on the lawn. At one point she had almost packed in halfway through, the fear closing in around her, the sense that she was being watched growing with every second that passed. She had stood there in the sunshine, the inner battle raging and then she had forced herself to finish the job, beads of sweat breaking out on her body as she moved back and forth.

  After that she had showered and then set about making the meal, constantly glancing at the clock on the wall, wishing Barry were here with her as the darkness descended. Now he was going to be late, at least two hours, and the threatening feeling continued to grow.

  'Get a grip,' she warned herself though she knew it was hopeless, her mind would not switch off, would not calm down and she knew it would remain that way until she heard the car pull onto the drive and the key in the front door.

  Though even then she knew the fear would linger and she would try her best to disguise it, though Barry wouldn't be fooled.

  She trembled a sigh and contemplated how long he would put up with her madness. The thought that he would suddenly decide that he'd had enough of living with a woman who was constantly on high alert made her feel even more agitated. This was Barry's house; she had no stake in the place and if he ended the relationship then she would have nowhere to go and she would be alone. She swallowed, the fear lodging in her throat, an image of her husband loomed in her mind, he was laughing and closing in, she was on some nameless deserted street, as always it was dark, and she had a bag over one shoulder with her meagre belongings inside. She was homeless, destitute, yet as always, he had tracked her down, followed her scent of fear and now he was coming to claim her, coming to make good on his promise to…

  When she saw the handle of the back door move up and down, she blinked, convinced that her fevered mind was conjuring another terror to torment her.

  She blinked again and sighed, the handle wasn't moving at all it had been her imagination, her mind turning against her.

  Her shoulders slumped and then the handle snapped, up, and then down, when she heard the bang on the back door she wanted t
o scream, though over the years she had been programmed to keep quiet no matter what happened, no matter what her monstrous husband subjected her to.

  The bang came again the door seemed to rattle in the frame as she lurched back, tears rolling from her shocked eyes, he was here, and she was powerless to do anything about it.

  55

  Max waited until Nash vanished along the side of the house then he checked the darkened street before stepping out and closing the car door, leaving the keys in the ignition, the engine running, he moved through the gate and turned left before angling right.

  The side of the house was in darkness, and he was halfway along when he heard the heavy bang, and he knew that Nash was trying to gain access to the property.

  He had arrived at Nash's place just as he'd emerged through the front door and got into the car, and then he had followed him here to this detached house.

  Reaching the corner of the property, he heard the crash of a door slamming inwards and he waited for a couple of seconds, chances are that whoever was inside could have already called the police, they could be en route right now.

  'No time to waste then,' he mumbled in the darkness before storming around to the back of the property, light spilling onto the patio through the open back door.

  Reaching it, he stepped into the kitchen in time to see Nash lash out, his fist missing the woman by inches as she ducked and darted to the left, unaware of the man standing in the doorway.

  'I told you what I would do you, whore, and when lover boy gets back and finds you then he will throw up on the fucking spot!' Nash hissed in dark delight.

  Max crossed the room and then the woman spotted him, her eyes springing wide as he approached.

  'Wife beater,' Max snarled.

  Nash snapped a look over his shoulder as a fist slammed into the side of his head sending him staggering to the right, his legs buckling under the sheer force of the blow, the wiring in his brain shorting out as his eyes rolled back in his head.

  Part of his mind tried to register the power behind the blow, but the trouble was Clifton Nash was used to dishing out the pain, he certainly wasn't used to receiving it.

  He could bench press his own body weight and more, he was strong and over time he had come to believe he was indestructible, though now he knew different, now he had a small inkling of how his wife must feel when he lashed out and the reality was a terrifying one.

  He tried to throw out a hand to break his fall but then he was hit again, and he slammed to the floor like a tree ripped from its roots.

  Erin cowered in the corner of the room and watched as the man grabbed Clifton's right leg and dragged him across the floor, wincing as his head slammed onto the step, then she gawped as the man hauled her husband over his shoulder and vanished from sight.

  She stood there shaking, her body and mind in shock, and then she felt the relief flood through her in a gush of unbelievable joy, she wanted to run after the man, wanted to thank him for saving her and yet she couldn't move, could hardly breath.

  Her husband was gone, when the door had crashed open, she had been convinced that she was going to die, that at last he had finally cracked and decided that her time had come. Then the stranger had appeared, and even now as she stood in the kitchen with the back door hanging off its hinges, she found that she couldn't recall his face. All she could remember was the size of the man, he had been almost as big as her husband, but it was more than that, there had been a kind of aura around him, and it took her a few seconds to put a name to the feeling.

  Menace.

  That's it, there had been a menace about the man, an air of violence, a mixture of both, and suddenly her legs began to shake, and she just managed to make it to the kitchen chair before slumping down.

  Deep down she had always known that Clifton was a weak, inadequate man who believed that because he trained his body it made him somehow powerful, but now she knew it was a façade, the one who had smashed her husband to the ground had been the real deal, powerful and savage.

  Erin Nash licked her lips, instinctively knowing that she would never see her husband alive again and she trembled at the thought as she lifted the phone from her pocket. Her hands shaking as she dragged DCI Bannister's name onto the screen, tapping the icon as tears of utter relief continued to roll down her ashen cheeks.

  56

  Rea was back on the camp bed, the sleeping bag wrapped around her shoulders as she stared at the wall, occasionally spooning soup into her mouth as she thought about her father.

  She tried to work out how long she had been kept here but so much had happened that it was difficult to be precise.

  'Two or three days?' she asked herself.

  In reality it was unimportant, the truth was her father would be frantic, she knew that to be a fact.

  Tears shimmered in her eyes before slipping free and she wiped them away with the corner of the sleeping bag as memories from the past swept through her mind. After the death of her mother, her dad had been the one to raise her and she knew that she had not always made that an easy task. Her teenage years had been the worst and now as she sat on the makeshift bed with candlelight flickering against the stone walls, she cringed at the way she had behaved. It was natural to test the boundaries, especially during those formative years, but she had gone way over the top. She recalled the teenage boyfriends she'd had, ignoring her father when he asked her to be in by nine, deliberately staying out later just to annoy him.

  More tears slipped free, he had been worried about her, she knew that and yet now she realised that she had done those stupid things to test his love for her, using her actions in a way that would prove his dedication to his only child.

  Now, she admitted to herself how cruel she had been, how selfish and yet he had never really shouted at her, never come down heavy by grounding her, he had always tried to sit her down, talking about the dangers of the world, and she would ignore his every word, ignore his warnings.

  'Why?' she mumbled as the tears continued to roll down her pale cheeks.

  She pictured him sat at home, head in hands, desperate to know where she was, and she also knew that his mind would be imagining the worst, tormenting himself with the possibility that he may never see her again.

  Rea Lomax cried for his suffering and inside she felt the flame of determination flare, if the man who held her had wanted her dead, then surely, she would have been killed before now. No, he wanted her for something specific and she knew that eventually it would be revealed to her, and just hoped she was strong enough to make a break for it when she next got the chance.

  'If I get the chance,' she reminded herself as she pulled the sleeping bag tight around her shivering body.

  57

  Bannister listened with a mounting sense of disbelief as Erin Nash explained what had happened.

  They were in the lounge, Barry Joy by her side on the sofa, Lasser and Bannister occupying the two other chairs in the room.

  'And you're sure you can't describe this man for us?' the DCI asked.

  Erin shook her head, her hands locked together in her lap, her expression one of shock and surprise that she was still alive. 'I'm sorry, I know it sounds ridiculous, but it all happened so quickly, the door handle was going up and down and I knew it was him, I just knew it, and then it came crashing in and he came straight for me, and I thought I was going to die.'

  Barry slipped a protective arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to his side.

  'But the guy who followed him into the kitchen was big?' Lasser asked.

  Erin nodded. 'Almost as big as my husband,' she paused and swallowed the fear, 'but he was different.'

  'Different how?'

  She looked at Lasser and he could see the turmoil in her eyes as she tried to find the words to articulate her thoughts. 'Deep down my husband is a coward, I've always known that, always known what he was like, but this man wasn't like that at all. He hit my husband twice, just twice and he was out cold, and then he
just grabbed him by the ankle and dragged him outside,' she looked at the two men opposite, her eyes shining with more tears. 'Then he just picked him up as if he was made of nothing and vanished.'

  Lasser caught Bannister's eye and knew they were thinking the same thing, both picturing Mark Draper being carried from his house. Gemma Fox hadn't remembered what her attacker looked like either, though she had been sure that even though he was carrying Draper it hadn't slowed the man down in the slightest.

  'Did he say anything, anything at all?' Bannister asked.

  'Nothing, like I said one minute I was cowering in the corner dodging blows and the next they were both gone.'

  The DCI's cheeks inflated, and he shook his head, bemused at the turn of events.

  'Do you know if your husband had crossed anyone in the past, anyone who could do something like this?' Lasser enquired.

  Erin sighed heavily as her hands continued to pull at one another. 'Even if he had then he would never have told me about something like that, I was just there to be used as a punchbag.'

  Barry turned his head and kissed her tear-stained cheek, his expression full of concern. 'Listen, Erin, we can go and stay at my mother's house for a few days until they manage to track him down.'

  'There's no need,' she said with a shake of her head, her voice suddenly full of certainty.

  'I think Barry could be right, just until we sort all this out,' Bannister said.

  Erin shook her head and coughed. 'You don't understand, you can look for him, but I don't think you'll ever find my husband.'

  Bannister frowned at her reply. 'What makes you say that?'

  She looked at the DCI, her shoulders starting to shake with emotion. 'Whoever the man was I think he's going to kill him.'

  '''Kill him''?' Lasser asked, his voice little more than a whisper.

  'It sounds insane I know, but you didn't see the man, he came here for one reason only and that was to take my husband away and like I said, I don't think I'll ever see him again,' she paused, 'at least I hope not.'