Cross Her Heart(79)

‘It’s been a long time,’ I say.

‘Not for me, I’ve been seeing you,’ she answers. Her voice drops, becomes deeper, all humour gone. ‘I’m going to give you an address. If you come here on your own I’ll let Ava go. I promise you. She doesn’t interest me. But I swear to God, Charlotte, if you tell anyone else, she’ll be dead before they get through the door. Do you understand?’

I absolutely believe her. Everything she’s put into this, she won’t fall at this hurdle.

‘I understand,’ I say.

‘Don’t dawdle, Clyde,’ she says, after she’s given me the address and told me the front door will be unlocked. ‘It’ll make me suspicious. And aside from that, I can’t wait to catch up.’

‘Oh, I’m coming, Katie,’ I say. ‘You can count on it.’





66


MARILYN

I feel like I’ve been in here for hours, the same questions, the same answers, going round and round in circles. I’ve given them everything I can tell them – about Lisa, at least. The lawyer Simon sent in said it was for the best and it probably is. I told them she got into my car and that I rented her a hotel room. I told them her thoughts on Katie. I haven’t told them about Skegness. If they found Lisa there before she had a chance to find Katie, then Ava is dead. We’ve had ten minutes of peace while Bray was called out of the room, but now she’s back. What next, I wonder? What have they found?

‘My client is aware she made a serious judgemental error by not contacting you immediately Charlotte Nevill approached her, but she fully intended to call you today. Ava Buckridge’s wellbeing is her primary concern and she acted with that at heart. I feel, given her personal situation – a woman who’s been through a serious domestic trauma as well as dealing with the fallout of Charlotte Nevill’s new identity being exposed – there’s nothing to be gained in charging her. She is absolutely remorseful for her actions, which were brought about by impaired judgement from emotional exhaustion and misplaced loyalty to someone she believed to be a best friend.’

‘She has seriously impeded my investigation,’ Bray says. ‘Charlotte Nevill is a dangerous killer.’

‘It’s not her,’ I say, for the thousandth time, despite the glare from the lawyer. ‘It’s Katie. Katie isn’t dead. There was no body. She’s Jodie’s mother. I keep telling you. If you’d seen Lisa, you’d know. She’s convinced.’

‘I’m sure she is,’ Bray says. ‘Perhaps she believes it to be true. Perhaps there are two personalities at work here. Perhaps she’s Charlotte and Katie now. But we’ve searched Amelia Cousins’ house thoroughly and there is nothing to raise suspicion. There is, however, evidence Charlotte has been there. A tape with her and Katie’s initials on was found on Amelia’s bed, alongside a large seashell. Is Lisa headed to a seaside town, Marilyn?’

‘I don’t know,’ I answer. Skegness sits on the tip of my tongue. ‘But maybe Katie left them there as a message for Lisa?’ I won’t call her Charlotte. She’s Lisa to me.

‘Or Charlotte could have left them there as a false lead.’

‘Have you spoken to Amelia Cousins?’

‘Both her and Jodie’s phones are switched off or out of signal range. We knew they were both away. Amelia said she may travel to join her daughter in the finca she’s at in Spain. That’s hardly suspicious.’ She leans across the table. ‘I’m trying to be patient with you Marilyn, I really am. But you need to accept you may have put Ava in danger with your actions. Maybe Amelia and Jodie Cousins too. You need to help us.’

‘While my client believes this version of events to be true, she is doing everything she can to help you.’ His voice is dry. Calm and measured against Bray’s irritation and my exhaustion.

‘Let’s go through it once more. From the beginning. Every detail. There must be something we’ve missed. Start the tape again.’

I take a deep breath and sigh. It’s going to be a long afternoon.





67


LISA

I expected the house to be near the beach. In those long hours as a child when I’d fantasise about being there with Katie, my only lifeline in the shite of my existence, I’d always imagined the front door opening straight on to the sand with the sun blazing down as if on some tropical island rather than an English seaside resort where the air smells of salt and cheap fried food. It’s not near the sea though. It’s not even in the town proper, but out towards the countryside.

The drive up is more of a track and the house looms ahead of me. It’s stylish, large and almost deco. More modern than it should look given its age. When was it built? Maybe 1920s? I pause, and consider my options. The front door will be open. What’s she afraid of, that if I ring the doorbell and she answers, I’ll thrust a knife into her chest before she has a chance to speak? She wouldn’t be wrong, but I’m not planning on stabbing her fatally. I just want to disable her, to be sure I can find Ava.

From where I’m standing, a little to the right of the building, I study it for signs of cameras marking any movement. I can’t see any. Maybe she’s got one over the door so she’ll know when I’m here. The windows, black pools in the gloom, give nothing away. Perhaps there are closed blinds or curtains on the inside; I can’t tell from this distance. There’s no way around to a back door, the garden cut off by a high fence. She’s given me no choice. Go in, following her instructions, or go away and call the police. If I go in, she’s going to try to kill me. If I leave, she’ll kill Ava. Katie, the ringmaster. Katie the planner.