Hunting Lila (8 page)

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Authors: Sarah Alderson

BOOK: Hunting Lila
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They told me . . . I felt the smile splitting my face. They had told her. Did that mean Alex?

‘Back in half an hour or so,’ said Jack, heading for the door.

‘Take your time.’ Alex took the words straight out of my mouth.

7
 

They left and the kitchen was quiet but for Alex clearing the coffee cups and running the taps. I wondered how to begin.

I cleared my throat. ‘Sara’s lovely.’

‘Yeah, she is. Jack’s lucky.’

Suddenly I was struck with the thought that maybe I’d been blind. Maybe Alex had feelings for Sara too. No, that couldn’t be right. I forced myself to stay calm. What the hell, I was bouncing on adrenaline, why not just be blunt?

‘What about you? Why no girlfriend?’

There, it was out there. It was a legitimate question, I figured. I couldn’t look at him though when he answered, so I moved to the fridge door and started playing with the magnets, moving one to cover my fourteen-year-old face.

‘We’re not officially allowed to date.’

My hand froze. That wasn’t the answer I’d expected.

‘You’re what?’ I said, turning to him.

He laughed at my reaction. ‘We’re not officially allowed to date,’ he repeated.

‘Why?’ I asked. Then immediately, ‘And how is Jack allowed to, then?’

‘It’s better, easier, if we don’t get close to people. We have to move a lot and – well – it’s just difficult when there are people you care about close to what we’re close to.’

I shook my head, not understanding. ‘But Sara?’

‘She works on base. She’s one of us and she knows the risks. It’s allowable.’

There was a pause while I took this in.

‘And you?’

I looked up, ‘Me?’

‘Yes. No boyfriend?’

He had done it again, always distracting me. ‘Um, no. No, I told you. It’s not like that in London. Plus I go to an all-girls’ school.’

Plus I’m in love with you, I added silently. There had been no boyfriends. There had been kisses, yes, but no boyfriends. A boy who lived around the corner had once asked me to the cinema and I’d said yes, thinking it might distract me from daydreaming about a boy on the other side of the world who didn’t have a clue I liked him. But I’d just spent the entire movie fantasising I was with Alex and that it was his arm sneaking around the back of my seat. Which is why, when the guy leaned in to kiss me, I closed my eyes and kissed him back. Then I opened my eyes and came to my senses. He wasn’t Alex. Alex would kiss better.

The second kiss had been even worse. My dad had dragged me to a Christmas party at the hospital and a drunk med student had jumped me. It was lucky we’d been surrounded by doctors and nurses because he’d needed three stitches in his eyebrow. Not that I’d flung his glass into his face on purpose. The glass kind of flung itself. It wasn’t the reaction either of us had expected.

So, no boyfriends.

Alex dropped the subject. He had just been trying to throw me off the scent and it annoyed me.

‘So, tell me, why is Jack not talking to my dad? Why does he hate him so much?’

Alex walked over to where I was standing by the fridge. He moved the magnet from where I’d stuck it over the picture of me and then moved his gaze to the other photo. How on earth had he even seen me do that? I moved my head unwillingly to look at the picture of my mum too.

‘That’s why, Lila,’ he said, then turned his now grey-blue eyes on me.

I could feel my jaw clench. ‘That’s so absurd. My dad didn’t kill my mum, Alex.’

He looked at me for a moment, a fine frown line between his eyes appearing. ‘Come on, let’s sit down and talk,’ he said eventually.

We walked through to the living room, where Alex crossed to the window and drew the curtains, scanning the front yard as he did so. They were both so paranoid. He moved to turn on the light.

I sat on the sofa with my feet curled under me, waiting for Alex to explain. He walked over to the bookcase in the corner and stood in front of a large portrait shot of my mum. When I’d seen it earlier I’d wondered for a moment where Jack had got the picture of me from. She and I were so similar it was amazing. I had never noticed before, because my dad didn’t keep many photos of my mum in the house. I had my dad’s chin and straight nose, but from this photograph, it was obvious I was my mother’s daughter; we had the exact same colour hair and eyes but it was clear that I also had her oval-shaped face and high cheekbones. I had always thought of my mother as beautiful, and the shock of realising I had inherited some of her features genuinely startled me.

‘You know, you look just like her,’ Alex said, reading my thoughts again.

I got up off the sofa and came to stand next to him. ‘I haven’t ever really seen it before, but now I do.’

I could feel the heat of Alex’s body radiating against my side. I only came up to his shoulder and it was so tempting to lean against him.

‘Jack’s angry with your dad for not fighting for her. As he sees it, the fight doesn’t stop until the people who did it, who killed her, are caught.’

I was speechless for a few seconds and then gathered myself, stammering, ‘But that’s ridiculous. The police tried. They didn’t catch them. What could my dad do?’

Alex was standing only inches away from me. I could feel his breath on my hair. Then he turned and sat down on the sofa, his arms resting across his knees.

‘Nothing, Lila. Your father couldn’t really do anything. Jack knows that deep down but until he finds the people who killed her he’ll keep blaming your dad. He’s his scapegoat.’

I didn’t say anything as I absorbed this information. Then something dawned on me. ‘You said until he finds the people – what do you mean? He’s looking for them?’

Panic started to invade me, making my breathing hike. I staggered forward and knelt on the floor in front of Alex. He slowly lifted his eyes from the ground to meet mine.

‘Tell me, Alex,’ I pleaded. ‘What do you mean? Are you looking for them?’ If it was true, Jack wasn’t doing it by himself. That much I knew.

He stared into my eyes for a few seconds, weighing his answer. But I could see it before he spoke. ‘Yes. We’re looking for them.’

My voice shook. ‘And have you found them?’

I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer. It was like walking a tightrope and knowing that whichever way I fell, to the left or the right, the result would still be the same. I’d be paralysed.

‘Yes.’

My heart lurched into my mouth. It seemed impossible. Five years had gone by and everyone had given up on getting answers. It felt like there were only three people alive – four if I counted Alex – who even cared any more whether my mother’s killers could be found.

‘How? How do you know who did it?’

‘We got intelligence,’ Alex answered simply.

‘I don’t understand. What intelligence? From where?’

‘The Unit. We find things out through the Unit.’

‘What things? What does your unit have to do with my mother or her murder? I don’t get it.’

‘The Unit has nothing to do with it.’ Alex paused again, weighing his words carefully. ‘Jack and I just managed to access some intelligence through the Unit that helped us to find them.’

‘And now you’ve found them . . . what are you going to do?’ It felt like all the blood in my body froze then started to churn.

‘We’re going to catch them.’

‘Why didn’t Jack tell me any of this?’

‘He doesn’t want to bring you into it.’ Alex’s voice was low and calm, I had the feeling that he was trying to reel me in.

‘Why are you OK with telling me then?’

Alex bit his bottom lip, thinking, then after a second or two he said, ‘Because I don’t like to see you hurt and I think you need to know.’

We stared at each other wordlessly, his gaze holding mine, his focus tight, trying to anticipate my next question.

It was one I hadn’t ever thought I’d get an answer to. ‘Who are they? Who killed my mum?’

He didn’t answer me. Just continued to stare into my eyes. I could feel them tearing up as I fought the memory of my nightmare.

‘Isn’t it enough to know that we’re going to catch them?’ he said eventually.

‘No,’ I threw back at him. ‘Not if it means either of you getting hurt in the process.’ I looked down at the carpet, fighting back tears.

Alex’s hand was suddenly under my chin, lifting it up until I was looking him in the eye once more. He cupped my face in both of his hands, holding me firmly so I couldn’t turn away. My breathing stopped.

‘We won’t get hurt. I promise you.’

I wanted to believe him but a parent being murdered when you’re a child makes promises like that redundant.

‘You’d better not,’ is all I said. The fear in me gently washed away, like a wave pulling back from the shore. I knew it was only temporary, but I could hold it at bay for now.

‘Can you try to forgive Jack, now that you understand?’

Alex’s hands were still holding my face. I nodded.

The noise of a car pulling up outside interrupted the silence that had opened up between us. Alex was out of the chair in a second, stepping over me to the window.

‘It’s Jack,’ Alex said, looking through the chink he’d made in the curtains. I wondered who else he thought it might have been.

Half a minute later, Jack came through the door.

‘Hi,’ he said with a broad smile.

‘Hi,’ we both answered at the same time.

Jack took one look at me, his smile fading, then asked, ‘You all right?’

‘I’m fine.’ I glanced at Alex who was looking at me strangely. ‘It’s just, I . . . I . . .’ I had just found out he was hunting our mother’s killers on some crazy vengeance mission. I was a billion miles away from being fine.

‘We were just talking about old times,’ Alex cut in.

I tried to pull myself together. ‘Yeah, about the time I broke my leg.’ It was the first thing that popped into my mind.

‘Oh yeah, I remember that.’

Alex flashed me a look that I found hard to read. I wasn’t sure if he was wondering whether I was losing it or whether he was wondering why on earth I’d picked that particular memory. But he looked back at Jack and, without skipping a beat, said, ‘I gave Lila my coat – do you remember? You complained about it as you thought I’d get hypothermia and you’d have to drag me back on the sledge too.’

‘Sounds about right.’ Jack grinned

I watched helplessly as Alex reached for his jacket, hanging off the banister.

No, don’t go, don’t go! I wanted to yell.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said. ‘Jack, I’ve told Lila I’ll take her for a run tomorrow on the base, hope that’s OK with you.’

‘Sure, sounds like a good idea.’

We were crowded into the narrow hall. Alex suddenly wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. I breathed in deeply.

He kissed the top of my head. ‘Night, Lila.’

Then he was gone and Jack was setting the alarm by the front door. It beeped a few times and then he went to the back door to make sure it was locked. I stood watching him from the hallway, questions running like water through my mind and threatening to spill over my lips. I couldn’t believe he was keeping this all from me. I turned and walked up the stairs before I opened my mouth and it all flooded out.

‘Goodnight,’ Jack said.

‘Yeah, goodnight,’ I replied.

8
 

As soon as my bedroom door shut, I fell onto the bed and curled up on my side, hugging a pillow to my chest. It had been a mistake to ask Alex who they were. Names didn’t matter, what they looked like didn’t matter. Why they did it – that was the only question that had ever mattered to me. I needed to know why, for what possible reason, anyone could murder a woman in cold blood, in her house, in broad daylight.

And my brother and Alex must know why, because they’d managed to find the people responsible. With information gleaned through their work. It made no sense to me. How could they find out information five years after the event that the police hadn’t been able to? How had they even known where to start looking? What the hell did their unit do?

I uncurled myself from the foetal position I was lying in and sat up. This was bad. Really bad. We weren’t talking about teenage muggers. We were talking about murderers. I couldn’t let them do this. I had to talk Alex and Jack out of it.

‘Lila, what’s taking so long?’

‘Nothing. I’m here.’

I ran down the stairs. Jack was hovering at the bottom, an impatient look on his face. I was running late because I’d only fallen asleep as dawn was breaking. It was ten in the morning now and though I’d had about four hours of sleep, it felt like only five minutes, all of it restless and filled with ugly dreams.

‘Let’s go,’ I said, smiling at him and walking through the door into the garage.

The car, I noticed for the first time, was an Audi. It was sleek and black and glossy and I wondered how he’d paid for it. I stroked along its side. I wasn’t that into cars but this one I could covet.

‘Nice car,’ I said, as I slid into the passenger seat. We were heading to the base. Jack was popping in to do some work – what I wasn’t sure – and I was meeting Alex. We were going for a run and I planned to use the time to convince him to walk away, back off, stop looking for my mum’s killers. I’d beg and plead if I had to. I’d be more convincing than last night. I wouldn’t let his hands or his eyes or his voice distract me. We’d be running. I’d focus on the road.

‘It’s a company car,’ Jack said, turning the key in the ignition.

I refocused on Jack. Cars. We were talking about cars.

‘The military pays for seventy-thousand-dollar cars now? Taxpayers must love that.’

‘One hundred twenty with the modifications and yes, the taxpayers would be fine if they knew why we needed them.’

‘What modifications?’ There were no spoilers. No go-faster stripes. Not even any flashing lights.

‘It goes a bit faster than the speed dial admits and it has a few hidden features.’

I guessed he wasn’t talking about heated seats. I’d have a play with some of the buttons when I was next in it alone.

Jack pressed a button on his key chain. The garage door eased up over our heads, letting in a wash of bright sunlight. The windows were tinted but I still pulled the visor down to shield my eyes. A laminated card fell onto my lap. I turned it over and saw it was a picture of Jack. He looked a little younger, more tired around the eyes, and thinner than he was now.
United States Marine Corps
was indented across the top and then, in finer print underneath,
Stirling Enterprises: Special Operations.

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