Shiver Sweet (21 page)

“If those men cotton on to our plan, how long do you reckon we’d have before they come after us?”

She dropped her cigarette and ground it with her heel.  “Yesterday, that guy phoned someone from the kitchen and told them to come round.”

“And?”

“Bear in mind I had been knocked out, so it’s hazy, but...

“Go on,” I prompted, rubbing my throbbing temples, it was like I had brain freeze behind my eyes. 

“I reckon it took maybe twenty of thirty minutes until the other guys showed up.”

I shuddered.  Crikey.  We’d have to drive like Formula One racers and... oh, hell... the snow!  “We have to try.  Come on.  We’ll take both cars and meet up at...”  I twisted my lips in thought.  “What about that hotel on the north road out of town?  Near the petrol station.”

Nicola rubbed a hand across her forehead.  “Okay.  I’m in.  But I hope to God you know what you’re doing, Christa.  Cos if we fuck this up, we’re as good as dead.”

CHAPTER 23

CLAIRE

Claire had waited until the police finished questioning Brian, then offered him a lift home. 

As she pulled her car to a stop behind the petrol station, it chilled her heart to see Brian so down, confused and stunned.  The last couple of days had been such a mess.  And her heart ached for Brian.  If she could just play the nice, caring, and doting girlfriend, he’d see the error of his ways and would fall into bed with her.  Sex had a way of smoothing over the sharpest of edges – at least temporarily – and Brian surely needed a smooth-out as much as Claire did.

“Won’t be long.  Want anything?” Brian pinched his suit jacket together over his chest, ready for the cold.

“Get me a diet coke?”

“Sure.”  Brian hopped out of Claire’s car and dashed across the snow into the station. 

Claire opened the glove compartment, suddenly worried she had forgotten to switch Brian’s mobile off.  The screen was black.  Phew.  As she closed the glove compartment, her own mobile started barking from in her coat pocket; the ringtone for her brother.  She answered it.  “Hi.”

“Hey.  Where are you?” Dale asked.

“At a petrol station.  I’ve just left the cop station, and I’m driving Brian home.”

“Brian?”

“Yep.  The one and only.”  Claire paused.  Would Dale confess?  The stunt with John had his name written all over it.  She didn’t want to believe Dale had done it, but in her rolling gut, she knew.

“S-s-so... ummm...” Dale stuttered, perhaps sensing Claire’s dark suspicion.  “We’ve had a couple of orders come in.  Check your emails.  Some guy wants one of those red little lingerie pieces and wine sent over to a girl on Harper Street.  Package it up nice in one of those gift baskets.”

“Sure,” Claire said.  “But I’m kinda busy.”

“Get it done as soon as you get home.  And put a note in with that one.  Something that’ll make her want to try it on and prance around in it.  I know you’ll come up with a good line.  We need to keep our audience happy, right?“

“Sure do.” 

“Your idea for viewers paying us to send gift baskets is really taking off.  Good little earner.”

Claire drummed her fingers on the steering wheel and drew a breath of courage.  It was clear that Dale wasn’t going to confess without a push.  “Was it you?”

“Huh?”

“You know what I’m talking about.  Well, was it?”

“How’s lover boy holding out?” Dale asked.

Claire sighed.  Typical Dale, avoid giving a straight answer.  “They’ve kept his car.  Forensics will be going over every inch of it.  And they’ve been questioning Brian.”

“As they should.  Glad to hear the cops are doing what they get paid for.”

“I don’t want them to lock you up again.”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“This isn’t what I had in mind, Dale.” Claire glanced toward the station.  Brian would be back any minute.  “I thought you were just gonna mess with Brian’s life, a little.  I’m really not happy with you right now.  Why on earth did you do that to John?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Sure you don’t.  He was already dead, right?  Did
you
kill him?”

Dale cleared his throat.  “Where are you taking Brian?”

“He wants to go home.”

Dale hummed.  “I guess it would look suspicious if he raced round to her place, I mean, given what just happened.  News is spreading like a virus that he’d done it so Christa and him could be together.  That’s what folks are saying.”

Huh.  I wonder who gave them that impression?
  “Do the others know what happened?”  Claire closed her lips, giving her brother a chance to elaborate on the situation.  He didn’t.  Then Brian popped round the corner, heading back to the car.  “Look, I’ve gotta go.  I’ll phone you to talk about this later.  Just don’t do anything else
that
stupid.” 

“Get that lingerie delivered today, Rachel.”

“Claire.  Call me Claire.  I’m sick of telling you.”

“You’ll always be my little sister Rachel, but okay,
Claire
it is.  And as for today, well... no harm in taking advantage of the situation right, sis?  Worm your way back in.”

Claire said nothing, just rolled her eyes in disappointment at her brother’s brutal act born out of sibling love.

“Have you changed your mind about wanting him back?”

“What do you think?”  She hung up.

Brian opened the passenger door and sat down.

“Okay?” she asked.

“Yes.”  He handed her a bottle of Coke.  Their fingers brushed slightly and Claire revelled at the contact.  “Thanks for waiting and driving me home, Claire.”

“No problem.  I’d hardly leave you stranded at the cop shop.”

He smiled.

Great!  Is he softening to me?  “If there’s anything I can do to help, just say the word.”

Brian smiled again, a radiant yet sad smile. 

A rush of heat throbbed through her as he made eye contact.

Brian unscrewed the bottle cap of his drink and took a quick sip.  “It’s been one gruelling day. I need a shower and to find my damn phone.”

Claire started the car and inched forward to the main road.  She racked her brain for a way to convince Brian that he would want her company beyond the time it would take to drive him home.

CHAPTER 24

CHRISTA

“Yes, I did say I’d bloody throttle him, but it wasn’t meant literally!”

“Calm down, Miss Silverlock,” Detective Phillips said to me over my mobile phone.  “I’m just doing my job.  See to your daughter and we’ll speak in a few hours.”

I ended the call, shocked that I’d been so uncharacteristically rude.  Oh, God, what must he think of me?  His prying had put me on edge so much that everything I’d said to him came out snappy and wrong.  But Nicola’s words about the men threatening to hurt our families were engraved in my mind and prevented me from opening up.

Nicola emerged from the hall into the kitchen.

Chewing my fingernails, I faced her.

“Can’t find my old mobile anywhere.”  She pouted and glanced around.  “Mind you, the sim card might not even fit, or work anymore.  Have you got a spare phone?”  She stopped walking and stared at me.  “What is it?

“A detective just phoned.  He wants to meet, to talk to me.”

“No way!” 

The shock of the call and the day caught up to me.  I cried. 

Nicola rushed over and flung her arms around me.

“He was good.”  I sobbed on her shoulder.  “Very slick with his questions.  And God! He’s got one of those really authoritative voices, it scared the crap out of me.  He kept steering things back to Brian, our relationship, details of my divorce.”

Nicola gasped.

I pulled away and wiped my eyes.  “Lots of awkward pauses.  Jeez.  I swear he was trying to trick me into saying stuff.  Says there’s rumours being spread... not good ones.  And they found John’s car and mobile phone and heard that voicemail I’d left him.”

She frowned 

“Apparently I’d said, ‘drag Sarah into it and I’ll bloody throttle you.’”  The words seemed to scrape my throat.

She bit her lip.  “Oh, I see.  Is the detective coming here?”

“I put him off, told him the only thing I cared about right now was comforting my daughter.  He’s going to phone back later after he’s questioned Brian’s neighbours.” 

She stroked my cheek and inhaled deeply.  “That’s good.  If he suspected foul play, he’d come straight round, surely.”

I raked a hand through my long tangled hair, replaying the conversation. 

“Hmmm... You think he’s piecing things together, don’t you?”

“You could call it that.  But not in the way you think.”  Crap.  I tried to shake my emotions into order.  “I’ve got this awful feeling that the accusing finger is about to be pointed Brian’s way, and then mine.  Whoever is spreading malicious rumours has a lot to answer for.”

“So you and Brian are suspects?  Did he actually say that?”

“Persons of interest.  But I can see why.”

She swallowed.  “Try not to panic.”

“Panic?”  I pointed to the ceiling.  “If they take me in for questioning then who’s going to protect Sarah?”

“Well, I will.”

“On your own?  You against all those men?”

“Well... we’d have to...”

I balled my hands into fists and cut her off.  “Oh, that detective is like a dog in heat.  It’s not what he said, more the way he said it, kind of hinting at who benefits from John’s death, basically me.  We’re still married, and unless he’s changed his will I’ll get the life insurance and full ownership of the house and business.”  I closed my eyes and sighed.  “I know that’s what I wanted, but not like this.”

“You have to calm down.”

“I’m sure he saw right through my lies.  I wanted to tell him the truth but I can’t risk my family getting hurt.  God, if he finds out about John’s threat to spill my secret, it’s gonna look ten times worse.”

Nicola turned her back to the camera.  “If the cops think you and Brian somehow... offed your husband so you could be together or to protect Sarah, let them.”

“Let them?”

“Yep.  In an hour or two, once our families are safe in a hotel, we’ll put them straight about the murder, the website, the lot.  Besides, if that detective really suspects you and Brian, he’d be banging on the door right now.”

“He’d need proof.”

“But there isn’t any.  So stop worrying, at least about that cop.”

When it came down to the wire, family and friends were the heart of life and I had to ensure their safety first and foremost. 

“Let’s stick to the plan,” Nicola said, covering her mouth with her hand so the camera’s didn’t catch what she said.  “Are you ready to go?”

I covered my mouth.  “You’re right.  Until my daughter and our families are safely hidden away, my mouth is zipped.  That’s just the way it has to be.”

Nicola grabbed her car keys and headed out of the kitchen.

I followed her into the hall and shouted up the stairs.  “Sarah!  Come on.  Time to go.”

“Can’t I stay here?” she shouted back.

“Please, just get down here.”  Oh, great.  I hadn’t banked on her being stubborn.  Of course she’d want to stay at home tonight.

She stomped downstairs, all glassy-eyed and dazed.  “Where are we going?  How long for?  Do I need my pyjamas?”

“No bags.” I hugged my traumatised daughter, passed her coat and motioned to the front door.  Luggage would arouse suspicion.  “I know you feel upset, Sarah.  But please, sweetie, we have to go.  It doesn’t matter what you wear.”

“Why?  I don’t want to,” Sarah protested.  “It’s cold, I’m tired and you’re scaring me.” 

No way could I tell her the truth.  She’d panic, become hysterical on camera and give us away.  “It’s just a short trip.  I think we all need to do something to take our mind off things, right?  Now please hurry.”  I slung my handbag over my shoulder and opened the front door.

“Fine,” Sarah said, glaring as she stomped past me.  “But this had better be worth it.”

“It will.  We’re going to see Gran and Grandad.  It’ll cheer us all up.”

“The word cheery definitely doesn’t come to my mind,” Nicola mumbled, zipping up her coat at the entrance. 

I raised a finger to my lips to hush her.

Sarah glanced at her analogue watch, which Brian had bought her last week.  “The long hand’s the minutes, right?”

Jeez!  You’re thirteen.
  “Yes,” I answered, realising that Brian had not bought her the watch because of her latest craze about cow collectibles, but because it wasn’t digital.  “Short hand’s the hour.  I can’t believe you don’t know how to read a watch.  Grandad used to repair watches.  He can show you how they work if you like.  But right now, the long hand is pointing to five minutes past let’s-get-the-heck-out-of-here.”  I opened the front door revealing a dark sky.

Somewhere between rushing Sarah and Nicola out the house and taking urgent strides down the drive, my brain bit into something pertinent Nicola had said earlier.  Today was my birthday, not yesterday.  So how
exactly
did the men know that we had planned to go out to celebrate last night, rather than today?  I stopped dead.  A burning fear ignited within.  Perhaps this proved that those men could also hear us.  Had they bugged our phones?  Planted microphones in my house?

Sarah crashed into my back.  “Watch out.”

“S-sorry.”  Or was it ridiculous to think that someone we knew was involved, and had spilled our plans?

“Why have you stopped?” Nicola asked, bounding along behind us.

“Something bad’s happening, isn’t it, mum?  Something else,” Sarah said.

She was perceptive.  I didn’t enjoy lying to her, but it was for the best.  “Wha-t?  Don’t be ridiculous.  Who told you that?”

She shrugged and pouted.  “No one.  I can just tell.”

She can tell?  “Er...  Sweetheart, everything’s going to be okay.  Just...”  I nudged Sarah ahead then gasped when she triggered the security light.  She stood on the drive, illuminated like a beacon.  I’d hoped to avoid it.  Damn.  My fault.  I faced Nicola and whispered into her ear.  “We need to be discreet about what we say or text over the phone.”