Heartlands

by Kerry Watts

  Jessie shot a glance at Dylan.

  ‘Answer it, Louise, but don’t say we’re here. Just ask him where he is. Don’t repeat what I’ve just told you.’ Jessie’s words were stern as she perched on the edge of the sofa.

  ‘Hello, Ben,’ Louise stammered, her heart pounding hard in her chest. A headache burst across her temples. She sighed to keep her composure.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Ben was crying.

  Louise wiped away her own tears. ‘Tell me where you are, and I’ll come and get you.’

  Jessie nibbled her bottom lip, anxious to grab the phone from her. She could even see Dylan’s anticipation grow. It was only in situations like this Jessie ever saw his composure slip. Nibbling his thumbnail was Dylan’s vice at times like these.

  ‘Ben?’ Louise called out. ‘Ben, are you still there?’

  Jessie leapt up from the sofa. ‘Well?’

  ‘He hung up.’ Louise sobbed. ‘Oh God, I can’t believe this is happening!’

  ‘Did he say anything to indicate where he might be?’ Dylan asked. ‘Anything at all?’

  Louise dropped her head in her hands, then shook it vigorously. ‘No… but wait.’ She snapped her head back up. ‘I heard the river thrashing in the background. It only makes a noise like that at the back of Andrew Foster’s place.’

  Jessie grabbed her bag and headed for the door, just as Louise tugged on her jacket.

  ‘I’m coming with you.’

  Chapter Seventy-One

  Rob leaned heavily on the sticks the hospital had reluctantly given him. He hadn’t wanted to stay there a minute longer. The doctors had explained that he’d taken a considerable beating, and as he’d been knocked unconscious, he needed to stay in at least overnight for observation after sustaining a head injury. Rob took the sticks and the information leaflet, then signed the ‘discharged against medical advice’ form. They’d given him a couple of days’ supply of painkillers, but urged him to see his GP for more later, saying that he would need them for a few days. The cracked ribs would be painful for a few weeks yet, as well as his broken nose, which was what hurt the most, if Rob was honest. The taxi from Perth had cost him over a hundred pounds, but he had no choice. Who could Rob call? Cam might have come, but she would also tell him he had to stay in hospital.

  ‘Hang on, mate. Just let me out here,’ Rob told the driver when he saw the silhouette of Ben Randall pacing up and down close to the water’s edge.

  ‘Are you sure?’ the taxi driver asked.

  ‘Yes, yes, I’m sure.’ Rob winced from the pinching pain in his ribs. ‘Jesus,’ he exclaimed.

  He steadied himself on the sticks and limped towards Ben.

  ‘Don’t come any closer!’ Ben held the knife up, then turned back to face the angry, rushing current.

  ‘OK, OK, I won’t, but what are you doing, mate?’

  Ben turned his head back round and stared. ‘You wouldn’t understand.’

  Rob exhaled loudly in a bid to ignore the searing pain in his head. ‘I don’t know. You won’t know until you give me a chance, will you? Come on, step back a bit. I won’t come any closer, just tell me what’s happened.’

  The sound of a car pulling into the car park startled Ben, who stepped even closer to the water’s edge.

  ‘Whoa, whoa, it’s OK, Ben!’ Rob shouted out and waved Jessie to stay back.

  Louise glanced from Rob to the direction of the swollen river and clasped her hand over her mouth.

  ‘I need to go over there!’ Louise shouted, but Jessie held her back.

  ‘Just sit tight for now. I’ll call for back-up.’

  Until it arrived, all she had was Rob Taylor.

  ‘I won’t come any closer if you don’t want me to, but we need to talk, don’t you think?’ Rob shouted over the deafening sound of the rushing water. ‘I could really do with a seat, and you’ve found a nice big rock to rest on. Perhaps I could come and share it. Your brother-in-law did quite a number on me.’

  ‘Why do you care if I die?’ Ben waved the knife in Rob’s direction.

  ‘Of course I care. We all do.’

  ‘Louise will never forgive me for what I’ve done.’

  It dawned on Rob what was happening. But not Ben, surely? Rob didn’t have an answer for that. ‘I can’t promise you whether your sister will forgive you, you’re right, but she deserves to know the truth, doesn’t she? She deserves to know what happened to Shannon, and only you can tell her that. But listen, can I be honest with you? If I tell you something, will you let me help you?’

  The bewildered expression on Ben’s face told Rob that he didn’t know about his past. He had obviously been too consumed by his own guilt.

  ‘I killed someone, Ben, a long time ago.’

  Rob allowed his confession to sink in. He didn’t talk again until his words had been absorbed. He limped forward and kept going when his first few steps weren’t met with resistance.

  ‘Can I sit?’ He pointed to the space next to Ben, made more than a little uncomfortable by its proximity to the water’s edge. The racing water was hypnotic as it rushed past.

  ‘Help yourself,’ Ben invited.

  Rob moaned as he lowered his body down awkwardly to Ben’s side.

  ‘He really did work you over good, didn’t he?’ Ben released a small laugh.

  ‘You’re not kidding.’ Rob hugged his ribs while he tried to get comfortable.

  ‘Who did you kill?’ Ben asked, and Rob noticed his grip had loosened around the knife.

  ‘If I’m honest with you, will you be honest with me in return?’

  ‘I guess so,’ Ben agreed.

  Even after all these years, saying the words out loud was difficult. Rob hoped he would never have to revisit this, but if he’d been honest with himself, something like that can never be forgotten. A young girl had died, and not by accident. He hadn’t put his hands on her throat, but he was there. He could have stopped it. He was complicit.

  ‘So, what’s it like in prison?’

  ‘It’s not nice. There’s nothing good about it, but you’ll be OK. You’re just a kid. You won’t go to prison. You’ll go to a place like I did, a young offenders’ place.’

  ‘Do you ever think about her, that girl you killed?’

  Rob swallowed hard. ‘Of course. Sophie has always been with me. Her death affected so many people. She was an innocent victim. What I did changed so many lives, not just mine and Sophie’s. You won’t stop thinking about Shannon, and you won’t stop loving her either. She was family.’

  ‘Did Sophie’s family ever forgive you?’

  The truth and Rob’s commitment to it would have to part company for Ben’s sake, he had to lie. ‘I don’t know. I can’t control that, and neither can you.’

  Ben permitted the knife to slip from his grasp and they both watched until it was swallowed under the angry current.

  ‘Thank you, Rob, for telling me, for trusting me.’

  ‘Can you do the same for me? Will you tell them what happened to her?’

  Ben hoisted himself up and offered his hand to Rob, who waved it away.

  ‘You go, I’ll manage.’

  Rob watched Ben’s back as he moved further and further away. He winced from the pain in his ribs when he tried to stand. Perhaps he deserved the beating Jason had given him. It might have been better if Jessie hadn’t saved him from Tom Nicoll. He might not have hurt Shannon, but he was guilty. Guilt that he had carried with him for over twenty years.

  The weight was becoming unbearable, these days. Shannon’s death was forcing Rob to relive his previous life over and over. A life he never thought he would have to think about again. He inhaled a huge breath and turned to face Louise before tossing the sticks aside. The calmness Rob felt was refreshing and unexpected. There was no fear. His heart didn’t race. He wondered if this was how Jack had felt. It was the right decision, and something he should have done a long time ago. Perhaps it would have saved Louise and Cassie some of their pain. Cassie. She hadn�
�t deserved any of it. Rob rubbed away a tear when he thought of his son. He had hurt so many people with his lies.

  Louise frowned before screaming out his name. Jessie and Dylan spun to see Rob fall backward into the fast-flowing, angry current which tossed and thrashed his already beaten body until it was sucked under the blackness.

  Jessie frantically called for help before surging towards the riverbank, almost slipping on the soggy grass at the edge. She stared into the deep, murky water, unable to catch even a glimpse of him. The river had claimed him as her own now. Dylan raced forward to join her, then stared back at Louise’s distraught face.

  ‘No!’ Louise dropped to her knees. ‘Rob!’

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  Dylan placed a paper cup in front of Ben and took his seat beside Jessie. Cam Walsh had offered to act as Ben’s adult representation for the purposes of this first interview, and Jessie was grateful that she was available. She didn’t want to wait.

  Ben sipped the water slowly. He thought about what Rob had told him, and images of what he said swam inside his head. The sound of a chair leg scraping across the floor made Ben jump and spill a little of his water on his shirt. He quickly wiped it, heat rising in his cheeks.

  ‘OK, Ben. In your own time, if you can, tell us what happened to Shannon.’

  Ben slid his cup back over the table. Dylan shot a glance at Jessie, who was staring at Ben with narrowed eyes.

  ‘Ben, are you OK?’ Cam asked.

  ‘Yes, I am, sorry.’ He snapped sharply back into focus and met Jessie’s glance. ‘Me and my mates were ribbing Andrew Foster because he was shouting to himself as usual, and Shannon got angry. She pushed me in front of everyone.’

  Ben paused but Jessie didn’t speak. She didn’t want to interrupt his train of thought. She waited.

  ‘I saw Shannon running out of Foster’s back door later. She had a cut on her lip. I teased her about being Foster’s girlfriend or something. I can’t remember exactly what I said, but I’ve never seen her so mad. She ran at me and tried to slap my face, but I caught her arm.’ Ben paused again. It was obvious that the memory of what happened next was playing out in his mind. He swallowed the last of his water.

  ‘You’re doing really well, Ben,’ Cam encouraged him, and was met with a half-smile.

  ‘I just pushed her away, that’s all I did, I swear.’ His voice rose. ‘Then she fell back and hit her head. She didn’t move after that.’ His tears began to fall. ‘I didn’t mean it to happen.’

  ‘So, you pushed her away. She fell and banged her head. She wasn’t moving. What happened then?’ Dylan was keen to keep Ben talking. ‘Did you check to see if she was breathing, or if she had a pulse?’

  ‘I panicked. Foster’s house backs on to the river.’ Ben sobbed into his sleeve.

  ‘Do you need a break?’ Cam placed a hand on Ben’s arm.

  Jessie’s eyes widened. That’s all she needed, Ben taking a break. She was relieved to see him shake his head and hoped he wanted this over as quickly as she did.

  ‘I knew it was wrong, but I wasn’t thinking straight. I had done it before I knew what I was doing. Then I couldn’t go back. She was gone.’

  ‘I’m going to have to ask you to tell us what you did,’ Jessie insisted. She needed to hear him say it.

  ‘I pushed Shannon’s body into the river.’ Ben closed his eyes as the words tumbled awkwardly out of his mouth.

  Jessie sipped the hot, sweet coffee, savouring every mouthful. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the silence of the incident room. The sound of Dylan’s voice woke her from her trance.

  ‘Hey, Jess.’

  Dylan looked as tired as Jessie felt. She admired the way he was handling what his life had thrown at him without complaint. It can’t be easy watching your mother deteriorate the way he was. Perhaps having Jack to distract him helps, she wondered.

  ‘Hi, kettle’s not long boiled. You fancy a brew? I’ll make it. You look knackered.’

  ‘Cheers for that. Yes, I’m shattered.’

  He flopped down onto a chair as Jessie put a mug on the desk in front of him.

  ‘There you go. Get that down you.’

  ‘Thanks.’ He took a sip. ‘Not bad, Jess. You’re getting better.’

  ‘Hey you, cheeky sod.’ Jessie smiled.

  ‘Leaves a bad taste all this, doesn’t it?’ Dylan added. ‘Not just Ben, but Rob Taylor, or whoever he was.’

  Jessie couldn’t disagree, not really.

  ‘Aye I know, Dylan. Still, the reality is that Rob had to live somewhere, and it does seem he genuinely changed his life.’

  ‘Yes, but it’s fucked up, though, isn’t it? Him acting like nothing’s wrong. Probably not a bad thing he jumped.’ Dylan shrugged. ‘When you heading back home? You had it easy. Getting put up in The Black Witch like that. Mind you, isn’t it supposed to be haunted?’

  ‘It’s the living we need to worry about, Dylan. Ghosts don’t scare me. I’m going to stick around for a bit, you know. Super says I’m due holiday leave. It’ll be nice to enjoy a bit of downtime.’

  ‘Sounds nice. Shelly booked a wee cottage on the Moray coast a while back. We’re heading up there in a couple of weeks. Can’t wait.’

  ‘Listen, Dylan, it’s been nice working with you again. I’d forgotten what—’

  ‘What a great guy I was?’

  His comment made Jessie laugh. ‘Yes, right. You’re one of a kind, Dylan Logan.’

  ‘You’re not so bad yourself, detective inspector.’

  ‘That does sound bloody good, doesn’t it?’ Jessie grinned, still revelling in her relatively new role as her phone rang in her pocket. ‘Hello, DI Blake.’

  Dylan sank the last of his coffee, concerned by the frown growing on Jessie’s face before she hung up.

  ‘Who was that?’ he asked.

  ‘Erm, wrong number, maybe.’ Jessie pushed her phone deep into her jacket pocket until it rang again. Her eyes met Dylan’s. Dan couldn’t possibly have her new number. Could he?

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  Two weeks ago

  With his footsteps slow and determined, Andrew Foster shuffled across the park, weaving in and out and counting in sequence as he moved. His light T-shirt billowed in the wind that whipped across the grass. He had to get it right. If he missed one number, there would be trouble. Created in the mid-1800s, Inverlochty Park was a Victorian indulgence. Cherry trees that had long since shed their blossom encased the park on all sides. Where once there stood an exquisite boating pond where families would queue for their turn on the water was a dirty, sludge-filled pond that was home to the swans and mallards who could bear the smell. A group of teenagers gathered around the last remaining bench, guzzling from cans of beer and smoking cigarettes they’d smuggled from home.

  Andrew didn’t have time to worry about them. He glanced at his watch. If he didn’t hurry they would be so mad with him, and he didn’t want to face their wrath again. Not after last time. He scurried on out of the park and towards home. He counted on his fingers again to be sure and cursed under his breath. Those noisy teenagers had made him lose count again. He’d had enough of them. Always there, invading his mind, stealing his thoughts. He turned around and yelled across the park. Andrew wanted them to know that he was on to them. He knew what they were up to, and they wouldn’t get away with it any longer. What if they started stealing the minds of other people? People who were not so alert as to what to look for. This had been a long time coming.

  Andrew decided he would confront the problem head on. He didn’t want to hide away.

  ‘Shit, Ben, look.’ Ben Randall’s best friend Craig punched his shoulder and pointed to the edge of the park. ‘It’s that freak that’s always talking to himself. He’s shouting at us this time. Look.’

  Ben took a last draw on his cigarette and coughed as he stubbed it out with his trainer.

  ‘What the hell is his problem?’ Ben swallowed the remainder of his lager and tossed the can under the bench that
read For Lisa Roberts. She loved this place. Not that you would know it now, with the overgrown berberis skimming the edges of it and weaving over the back.

  ‘I know what you’re doing!’ Andrew called out, counting out a sequence of ten on his fingers as he moved towards them. ‘I won’t stand for it, you hear? Leave my mind be.’ He tapped his thumb across his forehead. ‘You hear me? These are my thoughts. Not yours to steal.’

  Ben stared at Craig, who burst out laughing. ‘What the hell is he banging on about? Bloody nutter.’

  Ben watched Andrew turn back towards the park gate.

  ‘Come on, you want to have a bit of fun?’

  Craig tossed his can aside and jogged after him, closely followed by the others.

  ‘Oh go on, I’m paying,’ Eric Baldwin playfully tapped his pocket and Shannon Ross couldn’t help but smile.

  ‘OK, you’ve twisted my arm.’ She beamed and tied her long blonde hair back to tame it in the breeze.

  ‘Shit, look. Ben and his group of merry dickheads are at it again.’ Eric nodded at Andrew Foster’s approach, with Ben and Craig close behind him, laughing and taunting him.

  Shannon could see Andrew clutching his ears and shuffling to get away from his pursuers, who blocked his every weaving motion. Andrew reached into his pocket, but the keys slipped from his grasp before he could get them in the door. Ben snatched them up before Andrew had a chance to react.

  ‘Get me in a strawberry thick shake, will you? I won’t be long.’ Shannon slammed her bag into Eric’s chest and raced over to Andrew’s aid.

  ‘Don’t get involved,’ Eric called out, but he knew he was wasting his time.

  ‘Ben, give me the keys or I’ll tell Mum what an arsehole you’ve been. Not to mention the fags and booze.’ Shannon held out her hand, her eyebrows raised. ‘What the hell? Hassling a defenceless man. Real mature.’

  Ben sneered, then glanced at Craig before glaring back at her. ‘Come and get them then, snitch.’