Crossfire (The Clifford-Mackenzie Crime Series Book 1)

by R. D. Nixon

  ‘Does Bradley have a gun?’ Maddy wanted to know. She kept looking at the door, eager to be away, and her voice was oddly light. Charis had the feeling she was holding in some kind of scream, and belatedly realised why. ‘Maddy, you didn’t kill her—’

  ‘Does he have gun?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Mulholland had one – I think he took it with him.’

  ‘Right. I’m going after Bradley then.’

  Charis’s heart leapt. ‘Yes! You can show me where the waterfall—’

  ‘No, you’re staying here.’

  ‘What? Sod that for a game of soldiers.’ Charis was already heading for the door, but Maddy grabbed her arm.

  ‘Whether they find what they’re searching for or not, they’re going to have to come back here. Now what do you suppose Bradley’s going to do to Jamie when he discovers you gone? You reckon he’ll be pleased?’

  ‘Stop talking to me like I’m four!’

  ‘Then think like a grown up!’ Maddy sounded more in control of her emotions now. ‘Since Bradley isn’t armed, I’d imagine he’s relying on the fact that Jamie’s just a kid and won’t take much guarding. I also think he’s a fat twat who couldn’t fight his way out of a wet paper towel.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So if I miss him, and he comes back, he’s going to find you waiting for him. With this.’ She handed her gun to Charis, who almost dropped it; aside from the shock, it was heavier than she’d imagined, despite its small size. She didn’t know what she’d expected a gun to feel like, but she was sure it hadn’t been like this – so cold and greasy feeling, and the weight was strange and uneven in her hand.

  ‘Am I supposed to kill him?’ she whispered.

  ‘Up to you. If you don’t have a choice, just bear in mind it’s either him, or you and Jamie. You said they’d gone to the waterfall?’

  ‘That’s where Jamie lost the stone, but I don’t know where the waterfall is.’

  ‘If it’s any size at all, it’ll be the Linn of Glenlowrie. I’ll have to kill the car lights now, so brace yourself.’ Maddy ducked out through the sitting room door into the short hallway. ‘Wait here, and don’t make a sound. Better we don’t telegraph the fact that something’s changed; we don’t want to make him twitchy. Wait. Have this, too.’ She came back in and gave Charis her phone. ‘If I don’t come back in an hour, call for help. You’ll have to go outside to get a signal, though. Remember Stein was somewhere we could hear water, so go over the slope at the back and follow it down until you get within sound of the Linn, but don’t go any closer.’ She hesitated. ‘Was that Paul’s jacket that Jamie was wearing?’

  Charis nodded. ‘He found him in the valley.’

  Maddy looked as if there was too much to say, to say anything at all, and Charis understood her completely. Two minutes later, plunged once again into darkness, only the phone, and the gun in her hand, convinced Charis that Maddy had ever been there. And the fact that she could now stretch out a hand without brushing a dead body.

  She started to shake and had to sit back against the wall, clutching the gun to her like some kind of deadly comforter. How would she feel when Bradley walked in? Would she have to shoot him, or would the threat be enough to make him let her go? What if she missed him and shot Jamie instead? She moaned at the thought, and fresh, hot tears stung her eyes. With a mighty effort she got herself under control again, wiped her eyes, and thought how much better off she was than she’d been half an hour ago: free, armed, and with the element of surprise on her side.

  Minutes passed, surely no more than twenty, and she sat rigidly against the wall, but even that discomfort was no competition for the utter weariness that rapidly began to creep over her. Her chin kept dropping towards her breastbone, her eyes felt as if they were filled with grit, and the hand holding the gun was growing numb. She changed hands and practised aiming with her left hand, and that revived her briefly, but it wasn’t long before she felt her neck droop once more. She knew, absolutely knew, that Jamie’s life depended on her alertness, but to her utter despair even that knowledge wasn’t enough. It couldn’t hurt to close her eyes for just a moment, surely?

  With a grunt of anger and frustration, she forced herself to stand. How could she even contemplate sleep when Jamie needed her? What kind of mother was she? For a second she was transported back to the sleepless nights when he’d been a baby; bone weary for years, and in her fitful sleep she had got up to attend to him time and time again, only to wake and realise his crying had become more strident and she had never left her bed at all.

  Now she pinched herself on the back of her hand, bit her tongue, and then forced herself to walk from corner to corner of this pitch black room, only knowing she was passing the window when she felt the gusty rain on her face through the three empty frames. She deliberately stood there, breathing in hard through her nose, hoping the freshness would keep her alert, and for a while it did, but then she became as accustomed to it as she had the discomfort of the rock hard floor. She supported herself on the lintel and drew another deep breath, holding it in, and that was when she heard the first sound. Footsteps, scraping and dragging a little, coming down the roadway towards the cottage. Bradley was back.

  Fully alert at last, Charis backed into the corner. Why wasn’t he using his torch? Had he lost it? She’d been planning on using that as her target; how else could she fire at him and know she wouldn’t hit Jamie? Her heart hammered, and there was a roaring in her ears that threatened to drown out Bradley’s approach. She realised she’d only heard one set of footsteps... Where was Jamie? After a moment’s panic she remembered he had no shoes, so of course she wouldn’t hear him. They must have found that stone already, so maybe Bradley would be more likely to let her go now...

  But no, she realised with a sinking heart – he wouldn’t. He had it all to lose, and both she and Jamie had seen and heard far too much. Maddy would have known, of course, that it wasn’t up to her at all, that there was no choice; Bradley had Jamie, and could snap her child’s neck with one twist of his hands.

  Her hand was shaking, and she tried to take a deep breath, to focus. She’d never understood why people on TV always looked so scared when they were armed, and therefore invincible, but now she understood; the gun might save hers and Jamie’s lives, but with the potential to destroy the wrong target she had never felt more like throwing something away.

  The footsteps came closer. Bradley was breathing heavily, like he’d been running, and Charis fixed her mind on Jamie. She thought of what this man had done to him, and what he had done to Mackenzie all those years ago. Maybe he was pathetic, as Maddy had said, but he had that lethal combination of pettiness and extreme greed, and the authority to give both a free rein.

  She stood still, pointing the gun in the direction of the sounds, following the progress across the stony yard to the front door, terrified her reflexes would over-rule common sense. But she couldn’t fire right away; he’d be bound to shove Jamie in ahead of him. She wasn’t confident enough of her aim to raise the gun higher, and she couldn’t shout a warning to Jamie; as far as they knew she was still in the back room, and the surprise element might mean the difference between life and death.

  She heard a high, distant keening sound – she recognised it, with horror, as her own voice and bit down on it. The sounds outside paused, then continued with more urgency; he’d heard her. The door opened, creaking back on its broken hinges, more pieces of wood falling off, splintering. She saw the outline of an adult, and her finger tightened on the trigger, her trembling arms outstretched. I can do this, I can do this, I can do this...

  With a scream of mingled fear and rage, she pulled the trigger. The figure cried out and stumbled against the door jamb, and she pulled the trigger again, hearing the low thwacking sound as the bullet punched through the door.

  ‘Get out, Jamie!’ she screamed, preparing to fire once more. ‘Run!’

  ‘Stop! For Christ’s sake, Charis, it’s me!’

 
Once again, she almost dropped the gun in shock. She was imagining it, surely… As fiercely as she hoped it was real, it couldn’t be. She shook her head, unable to speak, and the shadow came closer.

  ‘Have you finished trying to kill me now?’ Hoarse, barely recognisable, but it was him. She felt the word building up behind her lips, but it took a moment before she was able to force it out.

  ‘M...Mackenzie?’ Then she gasped in horror. ‘Oh shit! What have I—’

  ‘Nothing! You’ve done nothing – you’re a lousy shot. Come here.’

  Charis took a shaky step towards him, then another, and she felt his hand touch her hair as if he could scarcely believe it either. But he pulled back as she put her arms around him, and she realised what she’d cost him. It was no wonder she’d lost his trust.

  ‘Daniel told me what he did to you,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m so sorry—’

  ‘You’ve nothing to apologise for. Just let me get my breath back a minute, then we can go.’

  ‘I can’t, not yet. I have to wait for Jamie.’ She told him, in as few words as possible, what had happened, while she helped him to lower himself until he sat propped against the wall. ‘Do you want to lie down? I’ll find something for a pillow.’ She began to take off her sweatshirt, but he stopped her.

  ‘You need that. Besides, it hurts less if I sit.’

  ‘What have you done?’ She knelt beside him, her fingers darting lightly over him while she checked for injuries. When she got near his left shoulder, he seized her hand and held it away.

  ‘No, don’t. Collar bone’s knackered.’

  ‘And that’s all?’

  ‘What is it with you two?’ he protested. ‘It’s bloody horrible.’

  ‘Well, you’re going to be all right now,’ she said firmly.

  There was faint amusement in his voice now. ‘That so?’

  ‘I have spoken, and it shall be so.’

  He laughed softly. ‘I’ll not dare argue.’

  Charis smiled, and spoke more gently. ‘How on earth did you get out of the valley like that?’

  ‘It took a long time to get onto the road, but once I did it was a bit easier.’ His voice was growing fainter. ‘Jamie gave me something—’

  ‘Jamie did?’

  ‘Aye, he found me in the valley.’

  ‘Of course,’ she muttered. ‘And he took your jacket.’

  ‘Anyway, it calmed things a bit – looking at it distracted me. I even went to sleep. That did me a little bit of good, I think; when I woke up, it felt as if I could maybe move a bit, so I tried.’

  ‘That must have half-killed you.’

  ‘It was pretty nasty, I’m not gonna lie.’

  ‘What Jamie gave you.’ Charis felt wonder stealing over her at her son’s ingenuity as realisation dawned. ‘It was the stone they’re all after, wasn’t it? The one he’s taken them out there to try and find.’

  ‘They’re all after it?’

  ‘From what I can gather it’s been the main prize all along, both Bradley and that Sarah woman thinking they’re the only person to know about it, and both equally obsessed.’

  ‘There’s something compelling about it, true enough. The weird thing is, and Jamie couldn’t have known it, but it’s mine.’ He gave a short, disbelieving laugh. ‘It’s always been mine.’

  Before Charis could respond she heard more footsteps, and, looking out of the window, she saw a torch that kept flickering out and being banged against its owner’s palm to make it work properly. She scrabbled for the gun again, and stood waiting, with a heavily tripping heart, to see who came in.

  The Linn of Glenlowrie

  It wasn’t nearly as dark outside as it had been in the cottage. Even before his eyes had adjusted, Jamie realised it was quite easy to see his way, despite the heavy clouds. It wasn’t moonlight, nor the beginnings of daylight, not yet. It was more of a sort of…absence of total dark. Maybe escaping wouldn’t be as easy as he’d hoped. Added to that fear, hunger was a constant ache now, and Jamie wished he’d not been so quick to finish the Mars Bar down in the valley with Mackenzie... The thought brought him up short; Bradley had been horribly glad, gleeful even, when he’d thought Mackenzie was dead, which meant Jamie must keep him at the top end of the waterfall, or he’d find out the truth. He dragged his feet as much as he dared, now and again stopping to pull Mackenzie’s socks higher against the evening chill. Someone must have called the police by now, he reasoned. The good police. He had to give them time to find them.

  ‘Get a shift on,’ Bradley grunted, flashing the torch back at him. ‘We’ve not got all night.’

  Jamie picked up his pace for a few steps. Bradley, marching ahead towards the sound of the rushing water, aimed the torch at his own feet, leaving Jamie to stumble along behind him. It was just like before, where the rocks seemed to relish making him sidestep them and plunge instead into deep, icy puddles. He had twisted his ankle quite painfully, somewhere along the way, and now his slow progress was genuine, but it also meant he wouldn’t be able to run very fast if he eventually broke for freedom.

  The noise grew louder, and all too soon they were coming to the brow of the hill, from where the water gushed down over the rocks.

  ‘Right, lad!’ Bradley shouted over the roar. ‘Where’s this cairn of yours then?’

  Jamie shielded his eyes from the glare of the torch Bradley shone in his face, and turned this way and that, peering into the gloom. ‘I think it’s just down there,’ he said at last. ‘See that rock sticking out? That’s where I was sitting, I’m sure of it.’

  Bradley followed the line of his pointing finger. ‘Right. You go first.’

  Jamie had just moved past him when another voice cut across the grassy hilltop.

  ‘Not found it yet, then?’

  He recognised the voice as being that of the one called Alistair, and Bradley hissed a curse. Alistair’s own, smaller, torchlight bobbed into view a second later. ‘Well, have you?’

  ‘No. What are you doing here anyway? Did you get whoever shot Sarah?’

  ‘I shot her,’ Alistair pointed out. ‘Short memory.’

  ‘You know damn well I meant the first time.’

  Alistair shook his head. ‘No-one there that I could see. Whoever it was legged it pretty quick – I didn’t even hear a car. Might have been Cameron, I suppose. He knows the area well enough to have parked somewhere else.’

  ‘Seems a shame we have to fix him, if so. He’s done us a favour. Wasn’t that your job, by the way?’

  ‘He can wait; we’ll sort him together.’ Alistair came closer, and Jamie saw he still held his gun, but now loosely, pointed at the ground. ‘Let’s get the stone first. Six eyes are better than four.’

  ‘You don’t trust me, do you?’ Bradley said, and there was amusement in his voice. ‘That’s why you’re here, to make sure I don’t do a runner.’

  They both looked eerie and alien in the wavering light of their torches, and with the thunder of the waterfall now directly behind them, they had to almost shout to be heard.

  ‘Teamwork makes the dream work, right?’ Alistair called, his tone mocking.

  ‘I’ve always hated that phrase.’

  Alistair turned to Jamie. ‘Come on then, lad, let’s get searching.’

  His cheerful tone sounded all wrong, and Jamie looked at him with deep mistrust, only moving when Bradley shoved him in the back and sent him stumbling down the path. The rock loomed larger, and Jamie grew more frightened with every step; the moment they reached it and found no cairn, the game would be up. There was only one thing he could think of that might work, and it all hinged on him not having underestimated Bradley’s obsession with the stone.

  He stopped dead, hearing Bradley scuffle to a halt behind him, and began to breathe hard. ‘Asthma,’ he gasped between dragging breaths. ‘Can’t bre… Help me!’

  ‘Shit,’ Alistair said, and Jamie flinched away from the light that hit him full in the face. ‘What now?’

  Bradl
ey grabbed hold of Jamie’s shoulder. ‘Show us! Just…point, for Christ’s sake!’

  Jamie waved one hand away from the path, towards the rockier ground at the edge of the waterfall. ‘Please!’ He dropped to his knees, wondering what he would do if they didn’t believe him, frantically trying to think of a way to make it seem more real.

  But it worked, and he’d been right about the officer’s desperation. Bradley shoved him aside and bellowed for Alistair to follow, and then they were gone. Off the path, scrambling down over the rocks towards the non-existent cairn. Jamie kept gasping loudly, and waited as long as he dared, which didn’t feel long enough even so, before he began to inch his way down the path.

  They were still shouting at one another. Their voices, and the sound of the water, masked any sound Jamie made, and he slithered and slid on his socked feet, once again feeling the bite and scrape of tiny stones and rough grass. His confidence grew with every metre he put between himself and his captors.

  He was almost at the bottom of the path when, to his dismay, he heard movement behind him – they’d discovered his deception. The familiar wheezing began as he stumbled faster, away from his pursuer, trying to fight the panic that was only making it worse. From phony attack to real one… He had brought this one on himself, and knowing that made it no easier to fight; he heard the awful, high, whistling sound in his own ears as his airways constricted.

  Bradley or Alistair, whichever it was, was coming closer; Jamie could hear boots slipping and sliding, knocking stones down the path to bounce off Jamie’s ankles. No-one shouted at him to stop, they must think he hadn’t noticed how close they were, and hoped not to scare him into running faster. As if he could. He was nearing the end of his endurance now; his arms felt weak as he used them to stop himself from falling. He wanted to cry out, but his chest was too tight to draw enough breath…