Death Sentence Page 7

  Patrick looked angrily back up. ‘You’ve got chlorine all over the coat, you silly tart.’

  ‘Don’t be so stupid, Pat. There ain’t nothing there but a bit of water. Honestly, you’re dead neurotic, you are sometimes.’ Chelsea rolled her eyes and padded back towards him, dabbing at the lapel herself as she inspected it at close quarters. Very close quarters. She couldn’t see a thing without her glasses.

  Which is possibly why she didn’t see Patrick’s expression darken to pure thunder. ‘What did you call me?’ he fumed, catching hold of her wrist.

  Chelsea snatched her gaze from his coat to his face, ‘Nothing.’ Her eyes grew wide as they searched his. ‘I only said you—’

  ‘Shut your mouth!’ Patrick cupped her face with his free hand, his fingers digging deep into her cheeks. ‘Do not ever call me stupid, understand? Ever! Got it?’

  ‘Yes! I wasn’t. I won’t!’ Chelsea panicked, as he shoved his face up close to hers. Now she could see: the blue-grey vein jutting in his temple, the terrifying look in his eyes. ‘Patrick,’ she whimpered, ‘you’re hurting me.’

  ‘Silly bloody tart, walking around like a trollop,’ Patrick ranted furiously on, a bubble of spit forming at the corner of his mouth, ‘in front of Adams, for fuck’s sake. What? Fancy him, do you? Reckon the copper could give you good seeing to, is that it?’

  ‘No!’ Desperate to get away from him and whatever foul mood he was in, Chelsea tried to prise his fingers away.

  ‘Patrick, stop it! You’re scaring me.’

  But Patrick only increased the pressure. ‘If I ever see you simpering over him again, I’ll do more than scare you, Chelsea. I’ll cut your brainless little head off. Got it?’

  Chelsea swallowed, attempting a nod.

  ‘I didn’t hear you!’ Patrick bellowed.

  ‘Yes!’ Chelsea screamed, and felt a warm trickle on the inside of her leg as her bladder gave way.

  ‘Trollops, the lot of you. Go and cover yourself up!’ Patrick muttered, disgusted, and shoved her away, hard.

  Chelsea’s first thought, as her legs slipped from under her, was that she was flailing backwards towards the deep end. Her second thought, around her lack of skills in the water, was cut blindingly short, as her head smacked violently against the tiles.

  Chapter Six

  Approaching his house, Matthew immediately noticed there were no lights at the windows. Knowing Rebecca should be home and trying to quash the paranoia that had been his constant companion since the accident, he stepped on the accelerator, bumped the car over the building site that passed for a drive, and screeched to an abrupt halt.

  Apprehension overriding any police training to err on the side of caution, he threw himself out of the car, rammed his key into the lock, and thrust the front door wide.

  ‘Becky!’

  ‘Here,’ Rebecca said from the sofa, which backed towards the door, sounding perfectly relaxed.

  Thank Christ. His heartbeat returning to somewhere near normal Matthew started breathing again.

  ‘What’s up, guys?’ Closing the front door and trying to sound casual, he walked around the sofa, to find the two ladies now in his life each end of it, feet tucked up, a popcorn bowl between them, and the TV paused.

  ‘Film night,’ Rebecca reminded him, around a mouthful of popcorn. ‘We started without you.’

  ‘Ah, right.’ Mathew winced inwardly, realising he’d forgotten. ‘Sorry.’ He ran a hand wearily over his neck. ‘I—’

  ‘Got detained?’ Rebecca gave him a despairing glance. She was smiling though, in that way she did that told him he was a hopeless case but that she might just forgive him if he grovelled sufficiently.

  ‘Sorry,’ Matthew mouthed again. His eyes flicked towards Ashley then, who, while not totally at ease yet and still hiding behind her hair if she got nervous or embarrassed, certainly seemed at home tonight. That’s good, Matthew smiled quietly. It would take time before she was fully comfortable around them, he was aware of that. Aware also that, as his child protection and safeguard training dictated, he should be careful of not invading her space, emotional or physical. It might make things a little awkward sometimes, but support was what she needed, a caring environment. With patience, they’d get there eventually, hopefully.

  ‘So what are we watching?’ he asked, giving his wife an appreciative glance, who, with her fiery auburn hair splayed about her shoulders and wearing one of his shirts over her leggings, looked frustratingly tempting.

  ‘Taken, One and Two,’ Ashley supplied. Then, one hand groping for popcorn, she pointed the remote and pressed play. ‘Liam Neeson,’ she added, dropping the popcorn into her mouth.

  ‘Great.’ Matthew nodded tolerantly. He wasn’t so sure he was as big a Neeson fan as the ladies appeared to be, though.

  ‘Have you eaten?’ he asked, over the action on the screen.

  ‘No,’ was the reply twofold. ‘We’re starving,’ Rebecca informed him, as both girls dipped simultaneously into the popcorn bowl.

  ‘So I see.’ Smiling wryly Matthew headed for the kitchen. ‘So, what do you fancy? I could grab something out of the freezer, if you—’

  ‘Pizza,’ Rebecca interjected decisively.

  ‘Pizza’s good,’ Ashley concurred, now having sampled his dubious skills in the culinary department.

  ‘No takers for home cuisine then?’ Matthew asked, turning back.

  ‘Uh, uh,’ was the definitive answer.

  ‘A lesser mortal might be hurt, you know?’ Matthew did his best to look wounded. ‘A man’s ego is a very fragile …’

  ‘Shhhhh.’

  ‘Right.’ Matthew eyed the ceiling. ‘Double pepperoni with extra mozzarella?’ he enquired after his and Rebecca’s usual preference.

  Ashley paused the film again. ‘Erm?’

  Matthew glanced curiously at her. ‘It that okay with you, Ashley?’

  Ashley shrugged. And then, there she went again, dropping her gaze, the hair flopping over her face.

  ‘Ashley?’

  Ashley shrugged, not over-enthusiastically. ‘Yeah, it’s fine.’

  But clearly not that fine. Matthew read the body language.

  ‘How about vegetable feast with garlic bread?’ he offered, guessing teenager plus food might possibly equal fad.

  Ashley looked up to beam him a smile. ‘Cool.’ She nodded happily.

  Definitely progress, Matthew decided. She should smile more often. Obviously she didn’t realise it, but she was extremely pretty. Hopefully, with a little persuasion, she’d come out of her shell and be the confident young woman she should be, instead of cowering at the hands of some sadistic bully.

  Instantly reminded of Sullivan, like the man didn’t dog his thoughts every minute of every day, the images of Lily didn’t haunt his every waking night, Matthew vowed to do something, whatever it took, to stop him preying on vulnerable young people. People like Ashley, who would stand no chance in his evil clutches.

  Right then, determined to help her enjoy some family time, Matthew headed for the front door, thinking it would probably be quicker to collect the pizza than have it delivered. ‘Back in ten,’ he called behind him. Then, realising all eyes were glued to the screen, he shook his head and let himself out quietly.

  Ashley waited for the front door to close, then, ‘He’s all right, isn’t he?’ she commented, glancing sideways at Rebecca.

  Rebecca glanced enquiringly back at her.

  ‘Well, obviously I think so.’ She nodded, thinking Ashley might be seeking reassurance. Thanks to being dragged from address to address by her mother, Ashley didn’t know Matthew well, but she liked him. That was plain to see. With her family background, though, Rebecca supposed she might find it difficult to easily trust people.

  Ashley nodded thoughtfully in turn. ‘A bit like Liam,’ she said.

  Puzzled, Rebecca blinked at the screen where Liam the action-hero was busy scaling roofs to rescue his wife. �
�Well, he is tall, I suppose,’ she conceded. ‘I’m not sure he looks a lot like him, though.’

  ‘No, I didn’t mean in looks. I meant he’s, um, considerate,’ Ashley clarified, unfurling her legs, planting her feet on the floor, and tucking her hands under her thighs. ‘He kind of weighs things up, thinks things through. You know?’

  Rebecca thought about it. ‘Yes. Yes, he does. It’s his job I think, plus …’ she glanced hesitantly at Ashley again, wondering how much she should confide. A little, she decided, on a need–to-know basis ‘… he’s had some heartbreak in his life,’ she explained carefully. ‘I think that makes him more sensitive to people’s feelings.’

  Ashley turned to fix her gaze on Rebecca’s, her huge, rich cognac eyes awash with such uncertainty Rebecca’s heart slipped a little inside her.

  ‘Do you love him?’ she asked bluntly.

  Rebecca smiled. ‘I do, absolutely. He’s a good man, Ashley.’

  She reached to give her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. ‘You’ll be safe here, I promise.’

  Ashley nodded again, looking a little less troubled.

  ‘I’ll get us a drink while we’re waiting for pizza,’ Rebecca suggested, getting to her feet. ‘Coke?’

  ‘Please,’ Ashley said. ‘Rebecca,’ she stopped her before she got to the kitchen door, ‘can I ask you something else?’

  Rebecca turned back. ‘Ask away,’ she said. ‘We don’t keep secrets.’

  ‘How come you don’t have any children of your own?’

  Rebecca’s heart stopped then, literally skipping a beat inside her.

  ‘We did have,’ she said, and breathed. ‘A little girl. Her name was Lily.’ Rebecca waited for the familiar feeling of grief to wash over her. ‘She would have been eight now. We lost her in a car accident.’

  Sadness like a lead-weight in her chest, Rebecca waited, hoping she hadn’t told her too bluntly, too soon. Wouldn’t not telling her now she’d asked be tantamount to lying though?

  ‘She died?’ Ashley looked so stricken Rebecca had to work at holding back the tears. She simply nodded. She couldn’t trust herself to speak just then.

  ‘That’s terrible.’ Ashley’s eyes filled up. ‘Do you miss her?’

  ‘Every minute of every day,’ Rebecca answered honestly. ‘I still carry her, though. In here.’ Mustering up a smile, she pressed a hand to her heart.

  Ashley nodded slowly. ‘I do that,’ she said quietly. ‘A friend,’ she added quickly, as Rebecca glanced at her quizzically. ‘I lost her, too, but I feel her sometimes. You know, like you said, inside.’

  Looking her over, shocked, Rebecca swallowed hard. God, what must this poor child have been through in her short life?

  ‘Are you going to have another baby?’ Ashley asked, stopping Rebecca as she took a step back towards her.

  Oh. Caught off-guard, Rebecca’s cheeks flushed at that. ‘Yes.’ She smiled, a touch embarrassed. ‘Well, we’re trying.’

  Ashley nodded, again. Clearly she was also one to weigh things up. ‘Sorry about your little girl,’ she offered, after a pause. ‘That must have been really shitty.’

  Ahem. ‘It was,’ Rebecca agreed, ‘for Matthew too. I’ll go and get that coke.’ Feeling very close to tears now, Rebecca turned back to the kitchen. She wasn’t sure she’d done the right thing, but maybe confiding in Ashley was no bad thing. It might be a way of breaking down a few barriers, getting Ashley to share a little more, too. ‘By the way, you can call me Becky, you know,’ she called from the kitchen. ‘All my friends and family do.’

  ‘Okay,’ Ashley called back, and then attempted to shush Emily, who was practically bursting with excitement.

  I told you. I told you, she said, jigging around the room and clapping her hands. They like us.

  Me, Ashley thought determinedly. They like me. You’re … not … here.

  Duh. Glancing down, Emily swept her hands over the outline of her body. I am, actually.

  Aware of Rebecca in the next room, and desperate to be seen as normal, doing what normal kids did, Ashley tried to ignore her.

  He is nice, isn’t he? Emily sighed dreamily. Really handsthome.

  ‘Shut up, Emily,’ Ashley scowled.

  She probably won’t let him keep us though. Not now they’re having a baby.

  ‘They’re not,’ Ashley snapped, irritated, because that, in fact, had been the first thought that had flashed through her mind.

  Yeth, they are. She just said so. They won’t want us if they have a brand new baby of their own, will they?

  ‘Emily,’ Ashley hissed, ‘will you please shut the fuck up!’

  ‘Ashley?’ Rebecca came back into the room, tray in hand and her brow knitted confusedly. ‘Who were you talking … Oh, my GOD!’ The tray hit the floor with a resounding crash, as something thudded violently against the patio doors.

  ‘Becky!’ Ashley launched herself at her, as the apparition splatted heavily against the windows again. ‘What is it?!’ she screamed.

  Oh God. Oh God. ‘I’m not sure.’ Rebecca’s panic escalated as the creature bashed at the glass, frantically flapping and clawing. And then, it stopped, as suddenly as it had started. Everything was still again, so quiet, Rebecca was sure she could hear her heart beating.

  Staring petrified at the large picture windows, she saw nothing beyond them now but the impenetrable ink-dark of the night. She hugged Ashley tight.

  ‘A b … bird,’ she stuttered, gulping back her own terror. ‘It’s just a bird, Ashley. It’s all right.’

  The hairs standing on the back of her neck, Rebecca almost cried with relief, as she realised that that must be what it was. A poor bird lost its way. Damn workmen. Three times she’d asked them to fix that patio light before they’d gone bust. Matthew would need to bump it up his To-Do-list quickish.

  ‘Come on,’ she said, giving Ashley another reassuring hug, ‘let’s draw the blinds, put the fire on, and tuck up together on the sofa until Matthew comes back.’ Who would be duly despatched again, to check for dead bodies, she didn’t feel it prudent to add.

  ****

  ‘So how did it go last night?’ Matthew asked Steve, who was yawning widely as he climbed into the car the next morning.

  ‘Huh?’ Steve scratched his head, clearly the worse for wear.

  ‘The wedding rehearsal,’ Matthew reminded him. ‘I thought you were checking out the church, making sure the vicar didn’t think you were too much of a sinner?’

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ Steve nodded, ‘good. I managed not to mess up. Lindsey was well-pleased.’

  Matthew smiled, noting the slight flush to Steve’s cheeks and the crumpled appearance, which possibly meant the man had dressed in a hurry.

  ‘I take it you two celebrated afterwards?’

  Steve looked a touch bashful. ‘Yeah, we did a bit.’

  ‘A lot, judging by the state of you.’ Matthew started the engine. ‘I hope you’re up to the job, Detective Sergeant, if you’ll forgive the pun?’

  ‘Course I am.’ Steve nodded piously. ‘A good strong cup of caffeine and I’ll be good as new. Haven’t got any of those strong mints you keep in here, have you?’

  ‘No,’ Matthew said quickly. Unfortunately, not quickly enough. Before he had a chance to stop him, Steve opened the glove compartment, and Matthew’s heart dropped like a stone.

  Obviously astounded, Steve didn’t say anything for a second. He just stared at the thirty wraps of heroin therein, and then, ‘You’re not serious?’ He turned his stunned gaze towards Matthew.

  Averting his gaze, in favour of pulling out of the car park, Matthew didn’t answer. Largely, because he had no clue how to.

  ‘Where’d you get it?’ Steve asked tersely, clearly thinking he might have obtained it from the police store, which would definitely impact on him.

  ‘Friends in the wrong places.’ Matthew kept his eyes on the windscreen. The less Steve knew about his illegal drug purchasing activities,
the better.

  ‘Have you got those addresses I asked you to dig out?’ he asked, making a weak attempt to change the subject.

  ‘Yes.’ Steve slammed the glove compartment shut. ‘Sir.’

  Contempt on a scale of one to ten, that was way off it. Matthew knew it was no less than he deserved.

  ‘I don’t bloody believe this.’ Steve laughed incredulously. ‘So what are you planning to do with it, if you don’t mind my asking? I mean, I’m only your partner, after all.’

  Matthew sighed inside. Involving Steve was the last thing he’d wanted. He wanted Sullivan, though, so much he could taste it.

  ‘Crush a parasite,’ he grated, his anger exacerbated by the fact that, having seen the stuff, Steve now obviously was involved. Why hadn’t he thought to put it under the damn seat, for Pete’s sake?

  ‘Sullivan?’ Steve deduced.

  ‘One and the same.’ Matthew nodded tightly.

  Steve shook his head despairingly. ‘So you’re going to fit him up, just like the man said?’

  Matthew hesitated. ‘Call it plan B.’

  Steve said nothing, which spoke volumes.

  Matthew glanced warily at him. ‘You didn’t see it. If anyone asks, you have no idea. Whatever happens, I’ll back you.’

  ‘Oh, well, that makes me feel a whole lot better. I’m about to get married, for God’s sake!’

  ‘I know. Steve, I … Bloody Hell!’ Narrowly avoiding cutting someone up at the roundabout, Matthew swerved and braked hard. ‘Watch where you’re going, can’t you! Prat,’ he growled at the driver, unfairly.

  ‘Or killed,’ Steve muttered. ‘Definitely sacked.’

  ‘Steve, just forget you saw it, okay?’ Matthew could hear the hint of desperation in his own voice. ‘This has nothing to do with you. I—’

  ‘Or banged up,’ Steve went on over him. ‘That’s it then, isn’t it? I can kiss goodbye to my career, can’t I? Ask me it’s you who’s the prat.’

  ‘Look, Steve …’ Frustrated, Matthew ran a hand through his hair. ‘I’m not going to do anything that might incriminate you. Just forget we had the conversation and—’

  ‘Right.’ Steve’s expression was scathing. ‘Look the other way, you mean?’