Blind Alley (38 page)

‘Nicoletta . . .’ Claudia began. She dragged her fearful eyes up to meet Brady’s.

He nodded. This was the reason she was here. Why he’d agreed to meet her. He had too readily dismissed Claudia’s initial call about Nicoletta being denied residency. Too preoccupied with Lee Harris to even think about the consequences.

‘Let’s take another bottle through to the living room,’ Brady suggested. He had a feeling she would need it.

Claudia nodded. Despite the amount of wine she had already drunk she still felt sober. She wanted to get drunk. Anything not to think about what might have happened.

Brady went over to the large black fridge and pulled out another bottle from the chilled wine rack. He had his back to her but he knew she was scared. Terrified. It was Brady’s job to find out why.

‘Shit! I don’t know what to say,’ Brady stated.

He got up from the couch and walked over to the bay window. It was black outside. He could hear the North Sea churning away relentlessly against the cliffs below. He stood there staring out but all that was thrown back to him was his own troubled reflection against a bleak backdrop.

‘Jack?’

Brady turned and looked back at Claudia. She was on the couch with her legs curled under her. She had nearly finished her third glass of wine.

‘I . . .’ she faltered, the expression in his dark eyes stopping her.

‘Why me?’

She shook her head, not quite understanding what he meant.

‘Why bring this to my door? You’ve got someone. Shit! He even works for your team. He’s part of Newcastle’s armed response unit. So why not share this with him?’

Claudia looked at him. He was angry. He had every right to be.

‘I did. He didn’t think there was anything in it,’ Claudia answered.

Brady nodded. He appreciated her honesty, even if he didn’t like the answer.

He turned back to the window. He couldn’t bear to look at her right now. He was second best. She had just said as much.

‘Jack – don’t do this.’

‘Do what?’ Brady asked as he stared out into the blackness. There was one thought racing through his mind.

Had they returned? And if so, did they have Nicoletta?

‘Please, Jack? Don’t shut me out. Not tonight . . . I . . . I don’t want to go back . . .’

Brady turned round.

‘What are you saying?’

‘I’m scared. I’m scared that they’ve abducted Nicoletta and that they . . . the Dabkunas brothers are back.’

Brady watched as thick tears ebbed down her cheeks.

‘I don’t want to be on my own. Not tonight.’

‘What about James? Where’s he?’ Brady asked, trying to keep the cynicism out of his voice.

This wasn’t his problem. She wasn’t his problem any more. She had left him. Or had she forgotten that part?

Claudia looked at him and shook her head. ‘He left. We had a big argument about Nicoletta’s disappearance and he left.’

Claudia took another drink.

As she did so she caught Brady’s eye.

‘I kicked him out. All right? And . . . and he went. Took his bags and went,’ Claudia said, not quite believing that it had actually happened. That James had gone.

‘So let me get this straight. He leaves you alone knowing that there’s a possibility that those bastards have returned to the North-East?’ Brady demanded. ‘What the fuck is he thinking?’

‘That’s my point. He’s not. He thinks that I’m over-reacting. That because the Home Office turned down her application for residency Nicoletta decided to take her chances and disappear. But she wouldn’t do that without telling me first,’ Claudia said, shaking her head. She looked at him, wanting some kind of assurance. ‘I mean I . . . I’ve worked with her for six months now. I set her up in a flat, organised money for her. She wouldn’t just leave without letting me know where she was going.’ Claudia faltered, the reality too jarring to continue.

Brady looked at her. He realised being mad at her was not helping the situation. He walked back over to the couch and sat down next to her.

Without thinking, he automatically put his hand on her knee. ‘Come on . . . Maybe James was right? Maybe she’s just cut ties and disappeared. Better that than being deported back to her own country and falling back into their hands again.’

Brady knew the odds as well as Claudia. When trafficked women and children were deported back to their home country their chances of falling back into sex slavery were extremely high.

Claudia looked at him, her green eyes burning with the belief that something terrible had happened to Nicoletta.

‘I know that they’ve taken her. She’s been gone since last Thursday. There’s been no sightings of her and no one’s heard from her. That’s nearly a week . . .’ She paused as she searched his face for something. Anything.

Brady said nothing. He couldn’t give her reassurance when there was none to give.

‘Why didn’t she take anything with her? No money, no clothes. Not even her mobile phone,’ Claudia asked, her eyes desperate for him to come up with an answer.

‘Claudia . . . I can’t—’

But before he said it she stopped him. She took his hand from her knee and placed it on her cheek. She leaned against it, momentarily closing her eyes. She just wanted him to touch her. Make her feel safe again.

Brady swallowed hard. He didn’t want this. Not this way.

He knew that she had a tumult of emotions misdirecting. Not to mention a bottle of wine.

‘No . . .’ Brady began. But he didn’t get a chance to finish.

Claudia leaned into him and brushed her lips against his face. It was an inquisitive, hesitant touch that rekindled everything he had been trying his damnedest to forget.

Whatever objections he had quickly evaporated when her soft, lingering lips found his own.

Chapter Forty-Six

When Brady awoke the next morning he knew that she had gone before he even opened his eyes. He lay perfectly still for a moment breathing in her scent just to convince himself that last night had been real. That he had not imagined her there.

He missed her so much it ached. The memory of her soft, supple skin beneath him was unbearable. The way she touched him . . . kissed him.

He buried his head in his pillow. The torture of having had her one more time was too much to take. He wished it had never happened. Better that than being thrown back into the torment of the past eighteen months.

Why, Claudia? Why the fuck would you do this to me?

He wondered whether it was payback for the hurt he had caused her when she’d found him in bed with his junior colleague, Simone Henderson. If it was, then she had succeeded. The agony he felt ripping through him was so intense he wanted to punch something, anything to stop the pain.

Claudia had already told him that it wouldn’t happen again. That it had been a one-off. Otherwise she would be here with him now.

He wondered whether she’d left a note. But he knew that would not be the case. That wasn’t Claudia’s style.

He suddenly remembered that he was supposed to be in Gates’s office at 8:30 sharp. He turned and looked at the bedside clock. It was already 8:13 a.m.

So? Who gives a fuck?

He rolled back over and buried his face in the pillow that Claudia had used.

Not that they had slept much.

He lay there for what felt like an interminable amount of time just breathing in her smell and remembering.

He ignored the phone when it rang. First his mobile. Then the landline. Someone left a garbled message. He didn’t listen. What was the point? It wasn’t her voice.

He ignored the phones when they rang again and again. He lay there refusing to move. Refusing to acknowledge that she had actually gone.

Then he heard it. The belligerent sound of someone banging on his front door. After a couple of minutes of listening to it he resigned himself to getting up. He looked around the floor for his clothes, not sure where they had ended up amidst the frenzied desperation of last night. He found his jeans by the bedroom door and his T-shirt in the hallway. Hurriedly pulling them on he made his way down the flight of stairs ready to punch whatever bastard was intent on putting a fist through his door.

It was Conrad.

‘I’m busy,’ Brady answered, his face filled with menace.

‘Sir? Gates needs to see you,’ Conrad said in an attempt to stop Brady slamming the door in his face.

‘Yeah? Go tell it to someone who gives a damn!’

Conrad had no idea what had happened to Brady last night. He had seen him talking to Amelia at the bar and then they had both disappeared. He assumed something had happened between them. But whatever it was, Amelia had turned up at the station and had, without a word, started clearing her desk out. Her stony-faced silence was enough to tell Conrad that things had not quite gone to plan between her and Brady.

It was only the news of the car crash that had stopped her in her tracks. Or to be more precise the news of who owned the car that had been rammed over the cliffs in Tynemouth. No survivors. It had been reported at 6:39 a.m. The station was reeling. And there was only one person who still didn’t know – Brady.

‘Sir? Please? You have to come with me,’ Conrad insisted.

Brady wasn’t listening. He was already swinging the door shut.

Conrad threw his body against it, jamming his foot inside.

‘For fuck’s sake, Conrad. What’s wrong with you? I’m not going in to work today! So you can tell Gates from me that he can go fuck himself!’

‘Sir, I’m afraid that—’

‘Now get your foot off my property before I break your fucking leg!’ exploded Brady.

‘It’s Claudia,’ Conrad said in a last-ditch attempt to get Brady to listen.

‘What?’

‘Claudia, sir. Something’s happened . . .’

It didn’t take Brady long to get into the station. He didn’t care that he looked like shit. He hadn’t showered or shaved. He was still wearing the same clothes as last night. Not that it mattered. Nothing mattered any more. The shock of what he had been told made everything else seem insignificant. He wanted nothing.

No, that was a lie. He wanted Claudia.

He walked through the station like a leper. No one would look at him. Let alone talk to him. Even Charlie Turner was lost for words. The only person talking to him was Conrad. And that was only because he’d been under strict orders to deliver him to Gates ASAP.

Conrad knocked on Gates’s office door.

‘Come in,’ Gates ordered.

Conrad opened the door and walked in. He turned and looked expectantly at Brady, who refused to move.

Gates stood up from behind his desk and walked over to Brady.

‘Jack? I’m really sorry. Believe me.’

Brady had nothing in him to say. Nothing. It felt too unreal.

Gates walked Brady over to one of two seats in front of his desk.

He waited until Brady sat down and then gestured for Conrad to leave them alone.

Which he did.

Gates sat back behind his desk and looked at Brady.

He was a wreck. No two ways about it. He steeled himself for a moment. He was about to have a very different conversation with Jack Brady than the one he had anticipated yesterday evening.

‘It’s definitely her car?’ Brady asked, breaking Gates’s thoughts.

Gates nodded. ‘I’m sorry.’

Brady looked at him. It was genuine. Gates had always had a soft spot for Claudia.

Who didn’t? She was so unique. So fucking special that it hurt. It hurt so bad . . .

Brady stood up. His hands were clenched by his sides. His face rigid as he tried not to get emotional. Not here. Not now in front of Gates. He still had some pride left.

‘I . . . I can’t do this, sir. Sorry,’ Brady said, turning to leave.

It took all his self-will not to break into a run.

‘Jack? There’s something you need to know,’ Gates called out after him.

Brady continued walking. There was nothing left to interest him. He reached the door and was about to open it when Gates threw him a lifeline.

‘Jack! Wait! It’s not her. Claudia wasn’t in the car. I found out just before you got here,’ Gates explained. He wanted Brady to hear it from him first. Soon enough it would spread like wildfire around the station. Everyone was desperate for news about Claudia.

Brady spun round. His expression a mixture of disbelief, hope and anger.

‘What? What did you say?’

‘They’ve just recovered her car from the rocks. Bentley’s team’s there.’

He felt sick at the thought of Bentley overseeing the crime scene. But he wasn’t surprised. Tynemouth came under the jurisdiction of North Shields police station.

‘I thought there were no survivors?’

Gates nodded his head.

‘There aren’t any.’

Brady walked back to his chair. He needed something to hold on to.

‘Who was in her car then?’ Brady asked, not quite believing what he was hearing.