Silent Victim(27)
‘Yes,’ she whispered, her long dark lashes inches from mine. ‘But I hardly know anything about you. I’d like to find out more.’
‘And you will,’ I said. Another lie. Leaning in, I gently kissed her, introducing my tongue. Slowly we parted; her eyes flickered over my face and I knew she was looking for any signs of me getting cold feet. There was no chance of that happening. Not now we had taken it this far. ‘You’d better get home, before it gets too late,’ I said, keeping her hanging on a few seconds more.
‘Can we meet again?’ she said, bending over to reach for her coat on the floor.
I helped her pick it up, brushing my hand against her legs.
‘Soon. But remember what I said. We’ve got to be discreet if we’re going to make this work. Don’t let me down.’
‘You can count on me,’ she breathed, boldly leaning over to kiss me one more time before making her way into the night. I smiled. Everything had gone as planned. It had been worth the wait, and I had something even better in store.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
ALEX
2017
I stood rooted to the spot as Hopkins left. All I could hear was my breathing, the sounds of city life muffled by the thick panels of glass behind me. Luke Priestwood. My stomach clenched as I made the connection. Luke Priestwood was the name of Emma’s stalker. I had wheedled it out of her the night she confessed. Only this morning I had called a private detective to see if I could track him down. Now it appeared that I might not need to.
But that was too crazy, wasn’t it? It couldn’t be the same person. How could he have found me? And why say we were old friends? There couldn’t be that many Luke Priestwoods around, could there? I remembered how she had described him: tall, sandy-brown hair, handsome.
I paced my office, no longer seeing the view as I recalled my wife’s account. I pressed my palms on my desk, the surface cool on my skin as I slowly exhaled. ‘Calm down. It might be nothing. Just ring the guy and see what he wants,’ I whispered to myself. But the truth grasped at my throat like cold fingers of dread. Was he just fucking with me? How did he know I was here? Like a metronome, my thoughts ticked back and forth as I struggled to take it all in. If this were the same Luke Priestwood who had stalked Emma, then I would find out when I called. But what would I say? So you’re the guy my wife tried to kill. What’s it like, coming back from the dead? Standing over my desk phone, I thought about ringing Emma, telling her what I had found. As my fingers hovered over the dial, I thought about the consequences of such a knee-jerk reaction. She was miles away, where I could not help her. Fighting her eating disorder was taking all of her strength. This could tip her over the edge. And there was Jamie to consider. If by some miracle this was the same Luke Priestwood then at least he was a safe distance from Emma. I replaced the receiver. Tonight. I would ring him and, if he was willing, arrange to meet him after work. Best case scenario would be that he wanted to clear the air. Worst case scenario? If he tried to call the police now we would just deny everything. Against Emma’s wishes, I had visited the alleged burial site, digging a few feet into the disturbed earth. There had been no sign of a body. It had come as no surprise because her story bothered me. There was something about it that did not ring true. If she wouldn’t open up, then perhaps her sister would.
I stared out of the window at the view that now seemed drab and grey. The beginnings of a headache wrapped itself around me. There was nothing I could do but call the man and see what he wanted. As my intercom buzzed, I took a deep breath, keeping my tone light as I tried to disguise the dread that I felt inside. After a short exchange, Alice allowed the IT people inside. I watched as they set me up on the system and explained how it all worked. Personnel files, statistics and monthly reports were all at the tips of my fingers. Having command of my own team was something I had worked hard for all of my life. I thought of my family and the future I had planned. I could not lose this now.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
EMMA
2017
‘Put the kettle on, will you?’ Theresa said, turning the sign on the door to Closed. ‘I’ve got some nice cream buns in the fridge.’
I opened my mouth to say I wasn’t hungry but her withering glance silenced my protests as she joined me in the staffroom. I filled the kettle with tap water, using it to give our thirsty plants a drink. Filling it again, I clicked it on and pulled two mugs from the shelves. As I busied myself making our drinks, Theresa’s voice washed over me.
‘Don’t even try to tell me you’ve eaten. I’ve been listening to your stomach growling all morning. You’re not leaving until you’ve finished that bun.’
If only she knew. Eating was only half the battle. The real struggle lay in keeping it down. I gave her a cramped smile. My sister had a way of telling it like it was.
‘Here,’ she said, pushing the offending cream bun before me as I sat down with our teas. My brain immediately made the calculations: 308 calories in a Morrison’s cream bun plus a cup of tea with sugar and skimmed milk. I rounded it off to 350. I would need to run three and a half miles before I had even taken a bite. Unless I vomited, which would take seconds. It was a no brainer, I thought, knowing my sister would watch me as I ate.
‘Look at those dark rings under your eyes. When’s the last time you had a decent night’s sleep? You look terrible.’