The Sister(101)

At first, Tanner had assumed the chief had helped smooth the transition for him, and he resented him for it. He had the feeling the situation, though not of his making, had harmed his prospects.

They had a son who was now two years old. He wondered what their son would have been like, if they'd had one. If only he’d realised Maggie had felt so strongly. Sometimes he questioned his motives. Was it really that he thought it would be selfish to have a child in this job or was it that he couldn’t stand the thought of sharing her attentions with someone else, even a child? Either way he’d lost. Better to have loved and lost.

Not like Kennedy, married to the job.

In the evening, he shaved for the first time since he’d been with Maggie, pulling his mouth from the left to right; pursing his lips in the strip lights glare to be sure he hadn’t missed any stubble. Then rinsing and drying his face, he applied some aftershave.

What are you doing, Tanner?

He hoped he wasn’t setting himself up for a fall.





Chapter 85



Theresa left her house full of trepidation, yet strangely excited at what was about to unfold for her this evening. Getting into her car, she checked her face, started the engine and turning off at the end of her road, she thought about how she’d handle things. She supposed the bright light was what made her look; she saw it coming in her rear view mirror from quite a way back, growing steadily larger and brighter as it came. It hovered bigger and brighter than a full moon, just outside the rear windscreen, close to the boot lid. It filled up her car with light. The roar of the motorcycles powerful engine caught her in the chest and throat, cancelling all other sound from her ears.

She squinted as she tilted the rear view mirror.

Theresa had arranged for Terri to stay with friends for the night, there was no way she’d have left her on her own. The constant pressure Theresa found herself under had worn her down. Caught between the Devil and the deep blue sea of uncharted territory, to survive, she had to make a choice. She chewed on her bottom lip. She worried about what the night would bring.

The oncoming traffic flowed incessantly; the constant stream of lights of varying intensities – bright, brighter, dull, full beam – began to hurt her eyes. The deep drone of the motorcycle, with its big, full moon headlight continued to invade her thoughts, distracting her. Why do these people always get so close? She knew if she braked suddenly; he’d have no chance if stopping. She exhaled slowly, trying to keep calm. A long break in the line of traffic ahead meant he’d overtake her in a few seconds. She let another deep breath go. The last car in the line of traffic had passed; she relaxed her foot on the accelerator. The motorcyclist had plenty of time to overtake, but it was something her instructor had drummed into her, when she first learned to drive. If someone wants to overtake you, let 'em. Easing off the gas as they do it helps.

The roar of the motorcycle engine overtaking never came. The steady drone and the constant floodlighting of the inside of her car continued. She began to feel a little uncomfortable. He was more than likely going to turn off to her left in a minute. There was a turn coming up in the distance. Probably didn’t think it was worthwhile overtaking. The gap in the traffic had passed and the cars in the opposite lane were more strung out, less frequent. The left hand turn was approaching; she expected to see a big yellow indicator light come on, then he’d trail off behind her and veer round the corner. Gone. Her headache was rumbling with the rhythm of the low growl of the engine behind her. He did not turn off.

The fear he was following her caught up as insistent as the unwavering headlight beam shining into her car; Theresa felt stripped bare under its light and vulnerable. A roundabout was approaching; she entered it, indicating a right turn. The motorcycle’s yellow flasher came on; her hands took on a ghastly hue at the wheel as she drove all the way round past her turning, past her original entry point. The motorcycle did the same. He was following her. She forgot about her original destination, part of that journey involved a section of unlit roads. Turning onto a dual carriageway, she frantically thought of where the nearest police station was. The motorcycle stayed tucked in behind her.

It was him. She knew it was him. He was escorting her in such a way he knew she’d be scared witless, willing to do anything. She almost pulled over. Get it over with, here and now, out there in the cold streets. It was more fitting to do that, than to do it in a warm, comfortable bed with someone who could... She shuddered. She knew he was dangerous, or she wouldn’t have done the things she had so far, she began to indicate to pull in at the next lay by. In the distance, she saw blue flashing lights. She cut the indicator and gunned her engine to catch them up, then realised they weren’t actually moving.

She pulled in behind the police car; the officers had two youths out of a black BMW. They looked at her inquisitively as she drew near. The bike slowed. The rider was a big man wearing a full face helmet and glanced in her direction as he roared on past, accelerating so quickly the officers and both youths turned their heads to watch it go. She jotted the registration number down.

One of the officers approached. ‘Are you all right, Miss?’

She knew it was him. He’d just been letting her know. ’Yes, Officer, I’m fine, although I do have a headache. When I saw all your lights flashing, I thought it seemed like a safe place to stop and grab an aspirin from my bag.’