Authors: Heather Atkinson
“Yes thank you.” Ryan was pleased, his plan was working.
“Angela, visitor,” Chris called through to the kitchen as he removed his wellies, Ryan likewise removing his shoes and leaving them at the front door.
Whereas Chris was tall, slender and blond, Angela was short, chubby and dark. They couldn’t have been more opposite but Ryan had always thought they seemed happy together. They were several years older than himself and Rachel, their children were teenagers, two of whom had moved out. Only one of their three sons remained at home.
The Marsh house looked like a working farmhouse, it wasn’t all sleek and contemporary like their own. The kitchen units were wood with a butler’s sink, copper pans hung from the ceiling and fresh flowers sat in a jug on the windowsill. The smell of baking bread wafted from the oven. It was like something from Emmerdale. Ryan knew because it was one of Rachel’s favourite programmes. When she watched it he pretended to show disdain and hid his face behind a book when in fact he was listening in, following the storylines. That was a secret he would keep even from his wife.
“No Rachel?” said Angela.
“Hairdresser’s appointment,” Ryan replied with a wry smile.
“We heard about what happened up at your house,” said Angela as she brewed them all fresh coffee. “Do they know who it is yet?”
“Angela, please,” said Chris. “Have a little tact.”
“It’s alright,” said Ryan. “I’d rather you asked me about it directly rather than listen to the rumour mill. No, they don’t know yet.”
“It’s horrible knowing it was up there all that time,” said Angela, gazing out of the window across the fields to Rachel and Ryan’s house. She placed a sympathetic hand on his arm. “You and Rachel must be so upset, I know how much you were looking forward to moving in.”
“Leah’s the one who’s been hit the hardest,” he said.
“Poor girl. What have you told her?”
“Unfortunately her friends at school got there first so she knows everything.”
“Why don’t you bring her here after school? She can ride and groom Sophia. It’ll take her mind off it for a while,” suggested Angela.
“That would be wonderful, thank you.”
She nodded and handed him a hot mug of coffee.
“So, do you have a theory as to who that body is?” said Ryan, taking special notice of Chris’s reaction. “Everyone else seems to have one.”
“I think it’s one of those missing men. I mean, who else could it be?” said Angela.
“Makes sense I suppose,” said Chris, taking a sip of coffee.
“It’s only a matter of time before the police find out who the body is and who killed them,” said Ryan. Even though it pained him to give the police any sort of praise it was a necessary evil to try and get a reaction from Chris.
“You never know. Whoever did it has got away with it for this long and any evidence might have been destroyed by now,” said Angela.
Ryan wondered if she was trying to convince herself because someone close to her was responsible but she appeared perfectly relaxed, just indulging in a bit of gossip.
“Who knows?” said Ryan. An idea leapt into his head that suggested a way he could test Gerard’s theory about Chris’s sexuality. When Angela bent down to the oven to retrieve her baking bread Chris held the door open for her, so Ryan took the opportunity to tip his coffee down the front of his t-shirt, grateful that Angela had put a lot of milk in it.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry,” he said, hastily putting down the mug on the scrubbed pine table and pulling off the t-shirt before he got burned. Despite his swift response he was still left with a patch of reddened skin on his chest.
“Are you okay?” said Angela, dumping the baking tray holding the fresh bread on top of the hob and hurrying over to him. “Oh my,” she said, staring at his body.
He looked to Chris, who was also gaping in astonishment - and interest.
“Here, this will stop you burning,” said Angela, pulling a bag of frozen peas out of the freezer and pressing it against his chest, causing him to release a gasp of surprise. She remained where she was, pressing the bag harder to his chest. “You must spend a lot of time at the gym.”
“I confess I do,” he smiled down at her, causing her to blush.
“Alright Angela, give the man some room,” said Chris, taking his wife by the shoulders and steering her away, Ryan just managing to catch the bag of peas before it fell.
Chris stood right before him, his stare intense. “Are you alright Ryan?”
“Fine, no harm done.”
“Do you want me to put your t-shirt through the wash?” offered Angela.
“No need to go out of your way.”
“Don’t be silly. I’ll give it a wash and you can borrow one of Chris’s t-shirts to go home in then I’ll send yours home with Leah.”
“Thank you, that is most kind,” said Ryan.
“Absolutely no problem,” she said, blushing again when his eyes connected with hers.
Chris was still standing before him, staring. Ryan had noticed that Chris’s gaze could sometimes be a little intense but only now did it make him uncomfortable. There was no doubt Gerard had been right, Chris did like men, but that didn’t mean he had anything to do with Daniel Tebbs’s disappearance. He thought it quite sad because he and Angela were made for each other. Maybe Chris swung both ways?
Feeling he’d learnt quite a lot today he got the spare t-shirt from Angela and decided it was time to return home. Chris followed him outside.
“So, will you bring Leah up later?”
“I don’t know if it’ll be myself or Rachel,” replied Ryan, opening the door of his Range Rover.
“Bring her yourself, we can have a beer together. I’ve renovated the basement, it’s a real boys’ room now.”
Chris’s eyes lingered on his chest as he spoke and Ryan tried to act as though he hadn’t noticed. “Alright, you’re on.”
Chris beamed. “Great, see you then.”
Ryan could see Chris watching him as he drove down the bumpy track that would take him back to the main road. On the way he called Battler and let him know about his strange visit to the Marsh residence. Battler told him to be careful when going back there before hanging up.
Ryan wasn’t worried. He’d taken on much bigger and badder than Chris Marsh.
CHAPTER 9
Rachel was home by the time Ryan returned to the house.
“You look divine, as ever,” he said, kissing her. What Rachel refused to let anyone know except Ryan and her hairdresser was that she’d started to go grey. She was only five years off forty herself and had been horrified to discover her first grey hair two months ago. Ryan had reasoned that after what she’d been through it was a miracle she didn’t have a mane of silver hair. Her hair had been dyed very dark brown, verging on black, cut into layers then straightened sleekly.
“What have you been up to? That’s not your t-shirt,” she frowned.
He wondered how she knew until he looked down and saw the seemingly innocuous red t-shirt he’d borrowed from Chris did in fact have a beaver on the front, its big cartoon buck teeth biting through a tree. Ryan’s nose wrinkled in disgust.
“It’s Chris’s. I went up there to check on the animals and spilt coffee all over myself. Angela’s washing my t-shirt, she said I could take Leah up there after school to see Sophia and she’d give it me back, freshly laundered,” he said, running a hand over his face, feeling the stubble had turned into downy hair. The beard was well on its way. His facial hair had always grown very quickly, he had to shave every day. It was why he wanted to grow the beard now, to give his skin a rest from the blade.
Rachel studied him with her hands on her hips. “Since when do you care about checking on the animals? What have you been up to?”
“Alright, you’ve got me. I went to visit Gerard Kerrell today with Battler and Bruiser.”
“Gerard Kerrell as in The Kerrell Group?”
“Yes. We were asking him about the body under the annex, his company built it.”
“What’s that got to do with Chris and Angela?”
“Nothing to do with Angela but apparently Chris was the last person to see Daniel Tebbs before he disappeared, he used to help out on the Marsh’s farm. He was also the second man to vanish. Gerard hinted not so subtlety that Chris is attracted to men.”
“Bollocks.”
“Very concisely put but I’m not so sure it is. I spilt coffee on myself on purpose to give me an excuse to take my top off and he definitely seemed interested in what I had on display.”
“Maybe he was just shocked that you started stripping off in his house?”
“No, it was definitely more than that. Forgive me if I sound arrogant but I am able to recognise when someone’s attracted to me. He invited me back later to look at the man den he’s made in his cellar while Leah rides Sophia.”
“Have you heard yourself? This is mental. Someone you don’t even know says something nasty about a friend of yours, a friend who’s been very good to you, and you believe it.”
“Because I confirmed it for myself. He’s attracted to me.”
“No way. He’s happily married to Angela, they’re crazy about each other.”
“I’m not disputing that he loves her, I’m just saying he might have other urges that she can’t satisfy. Battler confirmed that he was the last person to see Daniel Tebbs alive and his property backs onto ours. It would have been simple for him to dump a body in the foundations of the annex.”
“I don’t believe it. You’re really barking up the wrong tree.”
“I most certainly am not.”
“Are you actually going up there this evening?”
“Yes.”
Rachel’s eyes turned jet black with wrath and Ryan experienced a tingling down below.
“This is a complete waste of time. Chris is a good man and if he does fancy men, so what? It’s nothing to do with us.”
“You’re right it’s not, but wouldn’t you like to be one hundred percent certain that we don’t have a serial killer for a neighbour?”
“I…oh bloody hell Ryan, I do now.”
“Fine. Then I shall go up there and confirm it for you, to give you piece of mind.”
“I still think it’s a waste of time. Chris wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“He grew up on a farm, death is a huge part of his life. He sees it up close and personal every day.”
“Dead pigs and sheep are a lot different to dead people.”
“Are they? The majority of serial killers started out torturing animals in their youth.”
“You can quote every FBI statistic they’ve ever come up with but I still won’t believe it. I’ll come with you. I can keep Angela company.”
“No Rachel, you mustn’t do that.”
“You’re shutting me out,” she said angrily.
“No but it might inhibit Chris if he knows you’re upstairs. I want him to feel completely at ease.”
“You actually want him to hit on you?”
“Yes, purely for research purposes.” He grabbed her by the waist and pressed her back on the kitchen table. “In case you hadn’t forgotten, I’m all man.”
“I wonder what Jez would say about your little plan if I told him? And Mikey?”
“You’re not telling that pair,” he retorted.
“I might,” she smirked.
“Then I will be most displeased,” he said, slowly sliding her skirt up her thighs. “And I might just have to punish you.”
“You’re already punishing me with that beard.”
“Bad girl,” he said before flipping her onto her front and delivering three sharp slaps to her backside.
“Ow,” she cried. “Do it again.”
He obliged and she released another squeal of delight. Ryan turned her back over and kissed her hard, Rachel moaning loudly as he pulled down her panties and pressed his fingers against her. She was so hot and wet he growled into her mouth. His plan to discover more about Chris Marsh had engendered in him the desperate need to prove his masculinity. He threw her legs over his shoulders then entered her hard, delighting in the way her entire body reacted, the way her cheeks burned red and her eyes rolled over black.
She pulled the ugly t-shirt off over his head and let it drop to the floor without Ryan missing a single stroke.
When Rachel cried out his name and came hard he felt his masculinity had been very firmly reasserted.
“The beard can’t be that bad,” he said, tenderly kissing her mouth, noting how red the surrounding skin had gone from the friction from his facial hair.
“You could have a full Grizzly Adams beard and you’d still make me come,” she smiled up at him.
“I’ll remember you said that.” All the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he got the feeling they were being watched. His head snapped round to the window, but their big back garden was empty.
“What is it?” she said.
“Nothing. I just got the feeling someone was watching us,” he replied, pushing himself upright and fastening his jeans.
Rachel adjusted her clothing and got up to peer out of the window. “I can’t see anyone. It’s this body under the annex thing getting to you.”
“Perhaps,” he said doubtfully, frowning out of the window.
“Ryan, glad you came,” smiled Chris.
“I certainly did,” he replied, thinking of his earlier session with Rachel on the kitchen table.
“Where’s Leah?”
“Angela met her out front. She’s already taken her round to the stables.”
“No Rachel?”
“The boys were worn out after their swimming lesson so she’s stayed at home with them.”
“I see. How are they getting on with their lessons?” said Chris as he led Ryan inside the house.
“Ethan’s doing really well, he’s even diving to the bottom of the pool now but Aaron’s stuck doing the doggy paddle with his chin in the air. He’s never felt at home in the water while Ethan’s half-seal.”
Chris chuckled. “It always amazed me with my own sons how different brothers can be.”
“How are your boys?”
“Good. Simon’s finally passed his driving test after the fourth try.”
“Good for him. Anything wrong?” he added when Chris stopped dead in his tracks.
“It just occurred to me, Simon worked on the annex at your place when it was being built. Just as a labourer mind, he filled in when one of the men had to take emergency leave for some reason, I forget why. Simon didn’t work there long, he got the flat in Plymouth with his friend. I might give him a call and ask if he saw anything unusual.”
“It’s worth a try,” replied Ryan. This was very handy, it saved him from having to broach the subject with Chris directly.
“My man den’s down here,” said Chris, heading to a wooden door tucked under the stairs that Ryan had always taken to be a cupboard. Instead it opened to reveal a set of wooden steps descending into blackness. He started to wonder whether this had been such a good idea after all. Instead he could be outside in the fresh air watching Leah ride her pony, her cares falling away, as they always did when she was with Sophia. Or he could be at home with his family, curled up on the couch with Rachel and a glass of wine.
Chris hit a switch just inside the door and the steps were flooded with light. Ryan was careful to let Chris go first and they descended the steep, rickety steps.
“Here we are, home sweet home,” said Chris proudly at the bottom of the stairs.
“You don’t do things by halves, do you Chris?” said Ryan.
The den was actually a huge room spanning the length of the ground floor of the large farmhouse. It had a fully stocked bar with optics off to the left, couches and beanbags to sit on, a pool table, jukebox, computer set up at a desk in the corner, air hockey table, X-Box and an enormous flat screen TV, a tall pile of DVD’s precariously stacked beside it.
“Everything a man could wish for, eh Ryan?” said Chris, planting his hands on his hips while surveying his domain.
Ryan wasn’t so sure. Where were the books? The only thing in the room that interested him was the computer. He would love to know what secrets that held.
“Drink?” offered Chris.
“Just an orange juice thanks, I’m driving.”
“Sure you won’t take something stronger? I can do you a scotch and water or a beer.”
“It’s a travesty to dilute whisky. Orange juice will be fine thanks.”
Chris nodded and went behind the small bar to prepare the drinks.
Ryan perched on one of the stools arranged around it. “I would have returned your t-shirt but Rachel insisted on washing it first,” he said.
“No worries. Keep it as long as you like,” said Chris.
Not likely,
Ryan thought disdainfully. “What does Angela think of your den?”
“She’s all for it. It means she has the remote control to herself.”
“Ah, the age old bone of contention between man and wife. Not that I think there is much contention between you and Angela, you seem very happy together.”
“We have our ups and downs like any other couple but yes, I’d say we were.”
Ryan was disappointed. He’d hoped for more than that.
“Rachel thinks you were made for each other,” he added, hoping to provoke some sort of reaction.
“That’s very sweet of her,” he smiled. “There you go, one orange juice,” he said, placing it before him on the bar.
“Thank you.” He took a sip and tried not to grimace. Cordial.
“I’m afraid everyone’s discussing the body under your annex,” said Chris.
“Can’t say I’m surprised.”
“I think I should warn you, the local papers are going to rehash Rachel’s kidnapping.”
Ryan replaced his glass on the bar, eyes flashing. “What?”
“I’ve got a friend who works as a reporter on one of them. It’s not him, it’s his editor. It’s the biggest thing to happen since, well…”
“Rachel’s kidnapping?”
“I hate to say it but yes.”
“It’s only to be expected I suppose,” he said, taking another sip of the gruesome orange to give himself time to think. If the local rags started probing into their recent pasts then what was to stop them from delving further? So far they’d been lucky, no one had found out who they really were, apart from DI Boyle, but he’d kept it to himself. All it would take would be one reporter from the local area calling Manchester and speaking to a colleague up there. He wondered if Chris would be so quick to invite him into his man den if he knew what type of man he really was?
“We’ll weather the storm but I appreciate the warning,” said Ryan.
“She’s doing okay after that, isn’t she? I never like to ask her directly.”
“She’s fine, she’s very strong.”
Chris brought his bottle of lager round the bar with him and sat on the stool beside Ryan. “You and Rachel seem like another strong couple.”
“We are.”
“Another pair of soul mates,” Chris said sadly.
Ryan grew very uncomfortable when it appeared the man was on the verge of crying. “Are you alright?”
“Me, fine. Just a bit of dust,” he said, wiping the corner of one eye. “It’s everywhere after the renovations.”
“Chris, is something wrong?”
“No. I’m absolutely dandy.”
Ryan was quick to detect the bitterness in his tone. “If there is you can talk to me. We’re…friends,” he said uncertainly, feeling out of his depth. He didn’t do touchy feely.