Till Death Do Us Part
STEPHEN EDGER
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KillerReads
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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019
Copyright © Stephen Edger 2019
Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019
cover photographs © Shutterstock.com
Stephen Edger asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Ebook Edition © May 2019 ISBN: 9780008320621
Version: 2019-04-02
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter Sixty-Two
Keep Reading …
A Message from Stephen
Acknowledgements
Also by Stephen Edger
About the Author
About the Publisher
For my wife (for not killing me after all our years together) xxx
PROLOGUE
She’d learned many years ago that people will do just about anything for money, it was just a question of negotiating the right price. Reaching for the towel, she wiped the remains of the cream from her breasts, before refastening the straps of her bra and shoving the wad of notes into her cleavage. Straightening, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the crusty mirror on the wall, and ran her fingers through her long blonde hair, before tying it into a ponytail.
There were plenty of other ways she could earn the rent for the flat, but no other job could pay what she earned per hour with these strip gigs. Who was she kidding? She enjoyed dancing to the music and watching as men gawped lustfully, each thinking they could satisfy her, none realizing that the last thing she wanted was to have sex with any of them. There was only one special man in her life, and he was thankfully tucked up at home in bed. Pressing her locket to her lips, she kissed his tiny photograph, reminding herself that he was why she took these gigs. She’d never told him what she did for a living, and if she had her way, she’d never have to.
Zipping up her knee-length boots, she pulled on her miniskirt and leather jacket, and collected the iPod and speaker, dropping them in her bag. The stop for the night bus was a ten minute walk, and she’d already mapped the route in her mind. It was tempting to call a taxi, but it would probably take longer to arrive and drop her home than the walk and bus ride, so what was the point.
Lighting a fresh cigarette, she pushed the fire doors open, and stepped into the cool night air. Despite the lampposts lining the streets, there wasn’t a great deal of light on the road as she made her way out to the pavement and turned right. How she wished she’d brought something warmer to change into. That would have meant an extra bag, though, and she hadn’t needed the stress earlier.
Condensation billowed from her mouth as she took a fresh drag on the cigarette and wrapped her jacket tighter around her middle. A set of car headlights passed, briefly lighting the path ahead of her before disappearing into the black void. If she could squeeze in some extra gigs, she’d have enough to buy a car – nothing fancy, but a little runabout that could get her to and from these gigs with the minimum of fuss.
A sudden rush of footsteps approaching from behind put her on edge. Reaching into her handbag, she rustled around for her penknife, and, clasping it, she paused and spun on her heel, ready to thrust it at any potential attacker. She gripped it tighter as she recognized his face.
‘Help you with something, pal?’ she said, trying to keep the fear from her voice.
His shirt flapped in the breeze. She couldn’t deny he was attractive, in a goofy kind of way. Not her type by any means, but certainly someone who would receive plenty of female attention.
‘I wondered whether you wanted to join me for a drink.’
‘Thanks, but I already have plans.’
‘Are you sure? I would make it worth your while.’
She dropped the cigarette to the floor while surreptitiously slipping her penknife back into her handbag and made a show of squashing the cigarette with her boot. ‘I dance for money, and that’s it. I’m not that kind of girl.’
He pulled a large wad of notes from his pocket and began to count them into his hand. ‘Are you sure I can’t persuade you?’
Her eyes were on the cash. It was tempting, but she’d made a personal vow never to sleep with anyone for money. What she did – albeit a nefarious activity – was professional. There was a line she wasn’t prepared to cross, and the glint in this man’s eye told her exactly what he was thinking.
‘As I said, I’m not like that.’
‘There’s three grand here, and I have another two back in my car. I’ll
give you the lot if you come back with me?’
She pictured her son Finn at home in bed, dreaming of knights and dragons, unaware of what his mum was doing to put food on the table. She thought about how that five grand would be more than she needed for a car and a few months of petrol.
She was still staring at the cash. ‘I told you: I’m not that kind of girl.’
He refolded the notes and returned them to his pocket, shrugging in disappointment. ‘Oh well, it’s your loss.’ He turned to walk away.
‘Wait!’ she called out, before she could stop herself. ‘Just you, right?’
His grin widened as he turned back to face her. ‘Just you and me.’
‘What exactly is it you want me to do?’
He moved closer; her hand tightened around the penknife with each step.
‘I want to know what it would be like to fuck you.’
Everyone has their price, but she’d never imagined hers would be so low. ‘Where’s your car?’
‘It’s back over by the lock-up. Don’t worry, it’s parked where nobody will see us.’
‘I want the money upfront.’
He wrapped a gentle arm around her shoulders. ‘Of course.’
‘Normal sex, yeah? Nothing kinky.’
He rested a hand over his heart. ‘Scout’s honour. Missionary all the way. I want you underneath me.’
She allowed him to lead her back along the road that led to the lock-up, passing by the fire doors, and continuing for a further two minutes, until they reached the 4x4.
‘Nice car,’ she commented. ‘What do you do for a living?’
‘Why do you care? All you need to know is I have your money. Here,’ he added, as he passed her the roll of notes from his pocket, which she promptly dropped into her bag.
‘Where’s the rest?’
‘It’s in the glove box.’
The car beeped as he unlocked it, and he moved to the passenger door, opening it and reaching in. He handed her the second wad, smaller than the first; she could only guess it was the amount he’d indicated.
‘You want a line?’ he asked, waving a small packet of white powder at her.
It had been years since she’d last put coke up her nose, and as tempting as it was to feel that hit once more, she resisted. After all, she didn’t know this guy from Adam, and couldn’t be certain what he was offering or where it had come from.
She waited while he cut a line on the car’s bonnet and snorted it, rubbing the remnants into his gums, and then stared at her with lustful anticipation.
She opened the rear door, looking up at the sky and hoping she wouldn’t one day be judged for this momentary lack of sound judgement, and that’s when her head was yanked backwards. Grabbing hold of her ponytail, the man forced her forwards, pressing her face into the seat cushion, flicking up her skirt in one action.
She tried to yell, to push him away, chiding herself for underestimating what this low life had in mind. Thrusting her heel up, she felt his flesh as she struck at his groin, and suddenly her hair was released. Relieved she’d demanded the money up front, she grabbed her bag and left him writhing as she tried to move off as quickly as she could.
He wasn’t incapacitated for long, though, and she heard him chasing after her as she tottered on the heels.
‘You’re not going anywhere until I get what I paid for,’ he grizzled, wrapping an arm around her neck and heaving her backwards. He was much stronger than she’d given him credit for, and her feet barely made contact with the concrete floor as he dragged her back to the car.
Reaching into her bag once again, she located the penknife and flipped out the blade; but as her hand emerged, he was too quick for her and he grabbed her hand and drove the knife back towards her. She yelped as the cold blade tore into the flesh above her hip, and the fight immediately left her.
He released his hold on her neck, and her body slumped to the ground. Just as she was coming to terms with the fact that she’d been stabbed, and hoping he would call for an ambulance, he lifted her feet and dragged her back to the front of the car. On her back, her breaths coming in swift and shallow bursts, he was suddenly sat astride her, grinning with those white teeth. As he pulled the blade out, the last thing she’d expected was for him to drive it back into her chest.
That was the moment Kerry Valentine realized just how low a price she’d sold her life for.
ONE
The bubbles in the flute of Prosecco tickled Alice Tandy’s nose as she tried to sip from it without spoiling her make-up.
‘Relax,’ her best friend, Tara, said. ‘He’ll be here.’
Alice tried to force a smile, but the frown gave away her true feelings. This day had been two years in the making, but in truth she’d been imagining it since her seventh birthday when she’d received Bridal Barbie, and had known that one day it would be her turn to wear the big white dress and celebrate with her closest friends and family.
Tara raised the bottle, offering to top up Alice’s glass, but the bride pressed a hand over the top. ‘Thanks, but I want to keep a clear head.’
Tara shrugged, before filling her own glass. ‘Well, I don’t. As your chief bridesmaid, I expect to get trollied, dance until closing, and then end up in the sack with some guy I have no possible future with. Remind me, which of Ben’s friends are single?’
‘There will be loads of single men coming tonight,’ Alice confirmed.
‘Oh no, tell me you haven’t invited Andrew from work?’
‘What’s wrong with Andrew?’ Alice teased. ‘I think you two would make a lovely couple.’
Tara wasn’t biting. ‘Apart from the fact he’s old enough to be my dad, and has no fashion sense, he’s in love with you, not me.’
Alice shook her head. ‘No he isn’t, and don’t worry, Andrew wasn’t invited. Just pick one of Ben’s friends you fancy and make a move on him.’
Tara nearly spat out her Prosecco. ‘That’s easy for you to say, when you look like this. I’m sure if I had platinum blonde hair, a rack you could eat dinner off, and a figure that wouldn’t look amiss on a Parisian catwalk, I wouldn’t have an issue scoring. Even though I like this dress, I look frumpy, and the concealer on my face is barely covering my latest outbreak of acne. It’s just not fair! I’m twenty-six now, and I still suffer with a teenager’s worst nightmare!’
‘You are beautiful, Tara, and some day some lucky guy is going to come along and sweep you off your feet. You just wait and see!’
Tara looked down at the light blue satin dress she’d had to have altered on no fewer than three occasions since they’d first chosen it. ‘I reckon I’ve got better odds of winning the lottery.’
Alice smiled at her friend’s lame efforts to distract her from the fact they’d been sitting in the Rolls Royce outside the church for ten minutes and Ben had still yet to arrive. It was almost ironic that he ran a logistics company and was late for his own wedding.
‘I told him he had to be here by twelve,’ Alice said for the third time. ‘I didn’t say ten past, or twenty past, I said twelve on the dot.’
‘He’ll be here,’ Tara reassured. ‘If there’s one thing I know about your Ben it’s that he is absolutely smitten with you.’
Alice put her hand to her mouth, before remembering the nails were acrylic and couldn’t be chewed. Tara was right, of course she was. Ben was a good man, and he wouldn’t not turn up for his own wedding. She’d read plenty of stories of brides and grooms being stood up at the altar, but Ben wouldn’t do that to her. Would he?
‘He’ll be here,’ Tara repeated, as if reading Alice’s mind. ‘Anyway, your mum and Scott are already inside, and will give the thumbs up when it’s time. We’re still early, remember.’
Scott’s fist hammered against the glass. Dressed in grey tails and a matching cravat, her stepbrother’s expression was one of relief. ‘They’ll be here any minute,’ he said, as Tara lowered the window. ‘I managed to get them on the phone. Dave and the boys took him for a fin
al pint and they’re just stuck in traffic. Ben’s spitting feathers too if it’s any consolation.’
Alice allowed herself a moment’s respite, closing her eyes and focusing on her breathing. Having Scott give her away had seemed the only logical option. She’d lost her father when she was still at school, and the unexpected passing of her stepdad earlier this year had taken its toll. It saddened her deeply that neither of the paternal figures in her life would be there to share the biggest day of her life, but she felt their spirits nearby. The white gold locket around her neck contained a picture of both of them, so they would remain close to her heart all day.
‘Can I get back in now?’ Scott asked through the window. Scott and Alice’s mum had travelled to the church in the car with them, but her mum had complained it was too warm and had headed on in, while Scott had made desperate calls to find out why Ben had yet to arrive.
Tara waved a finger at him. ‘Sorry, it’s girls only for now. You need to keep a lookout for Ben and make sure he gets in that church without seeing Alice in her dress. It’s bad luck for him to see her before she arrives for the ceremony.’
Scott looked ready to argue as the midday sun beat down on him, but Tara’s stare was enough to put off even the most confident of men. ‘Okay,’ he reluctantly said. ‘Why don’t you have the driver take you for a little drive and I’ll make sure everything’s ready for when you return.’
Tara wound up the window, filled Alice’s glass before she could object and instructed the driver to take them on a detour around the city centre. It really was turning into a beautiful day, the sun shining high in the sky, and barely a cloud to blot the crystal blue sky. It was in stark contrast to the early morning rain that had greeted them when they’d woken at Alice’s mum’s house four hours earlier.
The rain had felt like an omen.
Every minute of the day had been planned, from the pastries and Prosecco at the house when the hair and make-up ladies arrived, to the 1932 Rolls Royce Phantom II that had arrived to collect them at 11:30 in case heavy traffic threatened to spoil the timetable. Alice was a perfectionist and she was determined that nothing would be left to chance; and yet she’d had a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach since waking that something she hadn’t accounted for would spoil everything.
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