One wrong turn, p.23
One Wrong Turn, page 23
Wait.
My heart thrashed against my ribs as I looked over the roof of my car. Paul and Collette had both climbed out. Paul was looking towards the cabin with a searching desperation. Collette was holding her gun casually by her waist, but I had no doubt she would use it if Paul tried to get to the cabin without her say-so.
I found myself thinking again of the way Paul had been shouting so aggressively at Collette in my car when Ben and I had seen them from inside the petrol station. Part of that could have been because Lila had been with Jason, because he’d left with her. But now I suspected it was about something else, too.
‘It was him, wasn’t it?’ I shouted to Paul. ‘You didn’t kill Gary. Collette didn’t have time. Jason did it.’
Paul looked back at me, his mouth beginning to open as if he might answer me, and then an enormous hand coiled around my face, clamping down over my lips and nose. My jaw was squeezed, my nostrils pinched. My teeth rattled and my gums ached.
I screamed but no sound came out.
Panic filled my head.
If he’d killed before, he could do it again. Was that why Collette had brought me here? Was this what she’d been waiting for?
Then the hand was pulled roughly away, leaving behind the swatch of tape he’d applied over my mouth.
I moaned and blew out my cheeks as hard as I could. I rubbed my face against the roof of my car. I couldn’t dislodge the tape. I couldn’t speak or shout. But I could still breathe through my nose, just.
‘I think you’ve said enough,’ Jason said in my ear.
70
Jason moved me to one side, keeping a tight hold of my right arm just above my elbow as he opened the rear door of my car and lifted the baby changing bag onto the back seat. After loosening the zip and lifting the flap to cast his eyes over the bundles of cash inside, he refastened it and looped the strap over his shoulder, balancing the bag against his hip. It must have been heavy, but he didn’t show it.
‘Get the suitcase,’ Collette told Paul.
Paul glanced at Jason for a second, gauging the distance between them. ‘Right, OK.’
He nodded hurriedly and jogged around to the rear of my car, opening the boot and removing his suitcase, then accidentally dropping it on the gravel.
‘Shit.’
He slipped and floundered, and it took him another few seconds to get the case upright again, carrying it around to the side of the car. He then set it down and nudged his glasses back up on his nose before ducking his upper body inside to where Collette had been sitting.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked him.
‘Getting Lila’s car seat.’
I could hear the dreadful longing in his voice. The crushing hope.
For an awful moment, I thought Collette was about to tell him not to bother. She traded a look with Jason that I couldn’t quite interpret, but that scared me deeply.
‘Good idea,’ she told him.
Paul backed out, holding the car seat by its plastic handle with the blanket resting in it, then picking the suitcase up in his free hand.
‘That’s fine, Paul.’ Collette waved him forwards with her gun. ‘After you.’
He shot me a darting, anguished look, then lowered his eyes and began to trot across the gravel with the suitcase and the car seat swaying on either side of him. He was in a hurry to get inside, get this over with, but I had a really terrible feeling it wouldn’t be that easy.
‘Jason?’ Collette said.
He propelled me forwards, his arm stiff and straight, his meaty hand clenching my bicep. I tripped and stumbled, desperately sucking air through my nostrils, pain flaring in my shoulders from the way my arms were pinned behind my back. When I looked up, the woodland trees seemed to close together over my head, blocking out the night sky.
I panicked and screamed from behind my gag, but the sounds that came out were incomprehensible, and Collette gave me a look of weary disdain as I was marched past her.
She adjusted her grip on the gun and suddenly the terror seemed to swarm in at me, massing in my chest.
Was this it?
Was it happening?
I could picture Jason kicking out my legs and forcing me to my knees. The gun would be aimed at the back of my head and then . . . oblivion.
But no.
Not yet.
I stumbled again as Jason forced me on, the cabin getting steadily closer. The timber deck was only two or three paces away. The treeline of the woods was just a few strides to my left. I wished I could run for the trees. I wanted so badly to hide and find cover.
I didn’t want to go inside the cabin. Going into the cabin seemed like a really bad idea.
I turned, slamming into Jason’s chest, but he grunted and spun me roughly back, shoving me forwards.
‘I don’t think so.’
I half fell onto the decking and he pushed me again. Paul was in front of me, dipping at the knees, setting the suitcase down momentarily by his feet. He then twisted the door handle, picked the suitcase back up and stepped inside.
71
Ben
Ben stared hard at the dual carriageway, searching, hunting, hoping against hope for a sighting of Abi or her car.
The phone was clenched in his hand, which was braced on the steering wheel. The battery level had dropped to 4 per cent. But the signal was strong. Four bars. Which meant the feedback was startlingly clear when he heard noises from the other end.
He shot upright and stared at the phone screen. It sounded like footsteps, scuffing, then a man’s voice cracking with concern and saying, ‘Diane. My, God, Diane. What’s happened?’
Ben immediately dipped his mouth to the phone, sweat prickling across his back.
‘Hello?’ he shouted. ‘Hello, can you hear me?’
‘Sit up,’ the man was saying. ‘Diane, sit up. Did you fall?’
Ben called out, ‘If you can hear me, can you please speak into the phone.’
No response.
All Ben could hear was a feeble groan and more scuffing noises followed by some incomprehensible mumbling.
‘Hello?’ he shouted again.
Ben squeezed the steering wheel with his other hand as he stared at the road ahead.
The battery level dropped to 3 per cent.
Then there was a crackling, fumbling noise, before the man’s voice came through the phone, sounding much clearer now.
‘Samantha, is that you? I think your mother’s had a fall.’
He sounded distinguished and well spoken, yet clearly anxious and concerned.
‘No, I’m sorry, this isn’t Samantha,’ Ben said. ‘My name is Ben. Who am I talking with, please?’
The man hesitated. ‘This is Julian Parsons. Why do you have my daughter’s phone?’
Ben shook his head, grimacing, knowing there was no good way to do this, that he didn’t have time to ease into it.
‘Listen, I’m really sorry to have to tell you this, but something really bad has happened. I think your daughter has been shot.’
72
Jason pushed me into the cabin after Paul, setting the baby changing bag down on a circular dining table just off to his side. Collette followed us from behind. I heard the door of the cabin bang closed after her, but I didn’t look back at it.
The open-plan layout of the cabin was a blur in my peripheral vision. To my left, a rustic kitchen with the circular table and some sturdy wooden chairs. To my right, a lounge area positioned beneath a mezzanine sleeping platform.
My focus was on Paul. He was standing in the middle of the space, his body stationary, his face fractured with dismay. His suitcase dropped from one hand, and he bent at the knees and set down the car seat with the other, staring blankly at a travel cot that was pushed up against the back wall.
I pulled in a breath through my nostrils, a flicker of duct tape rasping against my upper lip, horror trickling down my throat.
The cot was empty, just like the baby car seat had been.
There was a blanket on the mattress, but no baby.
Paul moaned in horror. I could see his chest rise and fall. His mouth gaped open and his shoulders slumped, as if he was struggling under the weight of all the mistakes and misjudgements he’d made.
Then I heard a soft, mechanical whirring coming from somewhere behind the sofa to my right. The back of the sofa had some pillows and folded bedding resting on it that made it difficult to see past.
Paul must have heard the whirring, too, because he whipped his head around, then ran beyond the sofa and collapsed to his knees, crying out in spasms of relief.
‘Lila. Oh my God, Lila.’
I couldn’t see what he was doing because his back was to me but a few seconds later I heard a baby cry out in startled surprise as he got to his feet and turned, and I finally saw the infant he was holding in his arms. She’d obviously been sleeping and by picking her up he’d woken her. She began to gasp and splutter and wail.
‘I’ve missed you. I love you. Daddy’s so sorry this happened to you.’
She was dressed in a yellow Babygro and wrapped in a white fleece blanket. Paul had scooped her out of a baby swing that was continuing to rock backwards and forwards down by his feet.
Lila.
She screwed up her eyes and jerkily flailed her arms, kicking her legs. She had wispy dark hair, flushed skin, budded lips. Her body trembled as another cry sawed at the air and then Paul was cradling her and kissing her head, swinging her in his arms, soothing her.
‘Couldn’t get her to sleep in the cot,’ Jason said gruffly. ‘Thought I’d try something else.’
Paul looked at him with sudden fury as he continued to bounce and soothe Lila. He hugged her tighter, looking up to the ceiling with tears in his eyes, until her fingers tangled in his coat and her nose wrinkled and her eyelids parted sleepily. She seemed to recognize him a little, and tremble, and nestle into his body. He placed his finger in Lila’s hand and she closed it in her fist, her cries beginning to fade.
Paul sobbed. He hugged her to him. Then a new fear seemed to dawn in his eyes and he looked down at her in panic, scanning her arms and legs, turning her head gently and checking the back of her scalp, her ears.
‘Relax,’ Collette told him. ‘I told you she was being looked after.’
Paul cradled Lila protectively again, bouncing at the knees as her cries subsided and she smacked her lips sleepily and mewled before finally curling into him some more. She made a few suckling noises as he lowered his mouth and murmured to her.
‘I’m sorry. Daddy’s so, so sorry.’
‘Put her over there,’ Collette said coldly, and I realized a second too late that she wasn’t talking about Lila. She was talking about me.
No.
My heart seized and my knees locked as Jason thrust me forwards, bundling me across the room in the direction of the cot. He steered me past Paul and Lila and then he pushed me down until I was sitting on the floor with my legs folded to one side, my elbow brushing the perforated material at the side of the cot and my hands and arms crushed up against the wall behind me.
‘Stay still.’
I sucked in air as he towered over me. My nostrils were clogged with fear. I was scared I wouldn’t be able to breathe with the tape covering my mouth.
‘No screwing around.’
I nodded hurriedly, blowing air hard through my nostrils to clear them. I didn’t want to provoke him or give him any excuse to hurt me. I think he sensed that because he grunted and contemplated me for another second, then took a step back.
I could see Paul watching me, cradling Lila, until he broke eye contact and paced swiftly across the room to where he’d placed the car seat on the floor.
‘Paul?’ Collette asked him. ‘What are you doing?’
He ignored her, easing Lila into the car seat very gently, supporting her head, then feeding the straps around her arms. He clicked the straps into position and tucked her blanket around her. Lila wriggled a little and settled. It was late, and she was fully asleep again.
‘Paul, I asked you a question.’
‘What does it look like I’m doing? I’m leaving. With Lila. This is over.’
‘No, not quite,’ Collette said, and as she did so, Jason moved past her and took up a position by the door with his big arms folded across his chest. Collette then tilted her head and looked at me with the gun held down at her side. ‘There are one or two loose ends we need to discuss first.’
73
I stopped moving the instant Collette looked at me.
I didn’t think she was aware of what I’d been doing. There was no way she could see the shard of glass I’d grabbed from the footwell of my car and curled in my fist as Jason had grabbed me and pulled me outside. But I didn’t want to take any chances. I didn’t want her to pick up on anything at all.
‘What are you talking about?’ Paul asked her, rising cautiously to his feet and partially blocking Collette’s view of me. ‘What loose ends?’
Collette leaned to one side and considered me for a little while longer, as if her instincts were tingling and she suspected me of something, but couldn’t quite place what it was. She then returned her attention to Paul, indicating the suitcase and the changing bag with a nod of her head.
‘There’s the money for one thing.’
I started to scratch at the duct tape with the shard of glass again. The shard was about the size of a typical house key. It was very sharp.
Using it was desperate, awkward work. I was holding the glass between the forefinger and thumb of my right hand.
My hand was contorted backwards. My wrist ached. My fingers were beginning to bloat and numb.
I was picking at the duct tape with the point of the glass, but it was difficult to know if I was making any progress. Jason had wrapped the tape around my wrists multiple times. It was secured extra tightly. And I was having to be very careful not to make any noise.
‘It’s all there, I told you.’ Paul looked between Collette and Jason, spreading his hands at his sides and adjusting his stance, almost as if he expected Jason to come at him. ‘Seventy in the suitcase. One hundred and eighty thousand in the changing bag.’
Collette whistled. ‘Way to go, Samantha. She really came through.’
‘Do you want to count it? Is that what you’re saying?’
‘No, Paul. I want to split it. Like we agreed.’
Paul’s eyes strayed to the changing bag for a wavering moment. The cabin lighting glinted off his spectacle lenses. Sweat shimmered on his forehead and nose. His tongue probed his lip. Collette had mentioned that he had gambling issues. Based on the way he was looking at the money, it didn’t seem as if those issues had gone away.
I watched him as I carefully picked away at the duct tape.
Pluck.
Pluck.
Pluck.
‘Fifty-fifty?’ Paul ventured.
‘Well, not quite. There’s the money you owe my clients, for one thing. I’ll need to hold that back. Plus there are the extra expenses Jason and I have incurred on your behalf. But that still leaves you . . .’ She shrugged. ‘Twenty-five thousand.’
Paul took a step back and glanced over his shoulder at me, a wariness invading his features.
I didn’t like how this was developing.
There was a bad feeling in the room.
I waited until he looked away from me again and then I carried on scraping at the tape.
Pluck.
Plu—
The glass got jammed on the tape and slipped from my fingers.
Damn.
An invisible band tightened around my chest as I fumbled desperately behind me. My fingers touched the skirting board and the wall, but not the piece of glass.
‘Twenty-five . . .?’ Paul’s words drifted away into confusion. ‘But . . . What expenses?’
My heart only started beating again when I brushed the shard with my thumb and managed to pick it back up. I twirled it around, feeling the edge for the sharpest point with my fingertip, locating it with a stinging jolt.
Collette hummed. ‘Well, there’s five days of childcare, for starters.’
‘That’s not funny,’ Paul told her.
‘No?’ A hardness formed in Collette’s attitude, and I noticed Jason move away from the door to close the distance between him and Paul. ‘Well, there are also your passports.’
Paul flinched. ‘Passports?’
‘Counterfeit ones, for you and Lila. Plus travel documents to wherever you decide to go. You wanted to get out from under your debts with a fresh start, Paul. Congratulations. We’re giving that to you.’
74
Paul looked down at Lila, shaking his head as if he felt suddenly sick. ‘But I don’t want to leave the country.’
‘Well, you can’t very well stay here, Paul.’
Shit.
Cramp in my thumb.
I was holding the glass shard so hard, scratching away carefully, and still I couldn’t tell if I was getting anywhere at all. Wriggling a little, I pulled on my arms – my wound burned – struggling to separate them, testing the tape.
And . . . it flexed.
A little.
I thought.
Maybe.
Or perhaps it was just slippage from the sweat on my skin.
Keep going.
Clenching my jaw against the pain in my thumb and forearm, I sawed the glass shard forwards and back, scratching and scoring at the tape, picturing the threads and filaments that bound the tape together gradually separating, imagining them getting weaker, softer, more pliable.
Please.
‘I don’t understand,’ Paul said.
He was turning his head between Collette and Jason, looking genuinely bewildered and scared.
‘Well, Paul,’ Collette told him. ‘I’m not going to lie to you, tonight was kind of a mess. Three dead bodies. We think. A missing woman.’
I froze as Collette paused and leaned sideways to look past Paul at me again.
We think.
What did she mean by that?
‘That was you.’ Paul’s voice shook. ‘That was all because of you.’
