Her Secret Past: A completely gripping and heart-stopping crime thriller

by Kerry Watts

  Rachel threw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt from the laundry pile on a chair in the kitchen. Her heart raced and her head spun with so many different thoughts, but it was the rage in her body that was the worst. Every muscle trembled with anger. She scratched at her messy brown hair then slammed her hand on the worktop, making Ella jump as she sat eating her cooked breakfast.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Ella asked with a mouthful of food.

  ‘Anywhere that isn’t here.’ Rachel slipped her feet into a pair of trainers and snatched a jacket from a hook on the wall next to the kitchen door.

  ‘Rachel,’ an anguished voice echoed from the top of the stairs.

  Ella’s eyes widened as Rachel fled out the back door and ran away from the house that was trapping her. Good, she thought. There was money in the pocket. The jacket she’d grabbed was her foster mother’s. She always had a couple of quid on her for emergencies.

  Rachel ran when she heard the bus coming around the corner and made it to the stop in time – just. She’d pushed her foster mother away from her to stop her from suffocating her with concern, but the rage that burned inside Rachel had wanted to do so much more. She had to flee before the monster inside her broke free again.

  59

  Rachel was grateful that her solicitor had agreed to see her back at their temporary home. The officer instructed to keep an eye on her had been kind when he’d agreed to take Rachel to tend to the horses. The water trough was full from the recent heavy rain and there was plenty of food in the stable to keep them going for a while. She was grateful the fire had been extinguished before it could damage her stables. The horses weren’t Rachel’s pets; they were her business. She couldn’t afford these days out of her schedule, especially for Dexter. Perth’s next race meeting was so close. Who was going to take care of them if she got sent down? Kenny? He would sell the horses in a heartbeat. He had no interest in racing despite the volume of money he’d ploughed into Rachel’s small stable. But she had big dreams: increase the number of horses in her yard; draw in some big-name owners even. Perhaps it was her ambition that had caused all this. If she hadn’t applied to make changes to the paddock, the police would have no motive for her to kill the Anguses. This was all such a mess.

  Rachel thanked the police officer when he dropped her off at the flat. He was a nice lad. Friendly. Rachel hadn’t felt like he was judging her and that was nice. Spending time with horses was good. Rachel’s happy place.

  Rachel scanned her reflection in the dusty mirror that hung above a worn table in the hall then answered the door.

  ‘Come in, Craig, please. Thanks for seeing me here.’

  ‘It’s fine – it’s no problem to meet here, honestly.’

  Rachel closed the door and smiled at her solicitor. ‘Please go through. It’s not much but it’s home for now.’

  Craig Merchant, the couple’s solicitor, walked on ahead and dropped his briefcase onto the kitchen table. Rachel could feel him judging the tiny room with his eyes as he sat down.

  ‘Hopefully you won’t be here long.’ He smiled and pulled a notepad from his case.

  Rachel lowered herself into the chair opposite. ‘I could be living somewhere worse though soon.’

  Craig looked up at her. ‘Not if I have anything to do with it you won’t.’

  Rachel wanted to believe him. In his smart suit and designer shoes, Craig Merchant had helped Kenny countless times in the past. She did trust him – didn’t she?

  The figure crouched low behind the parked Ford Escort froze when they spotted the police officer glance over in that direction. They didn’t breathe until the young man in the police car turned away again. That was close. The caller ID on his buzzing phone produced a wry grin but he declined the call. There was no time for that; they would be reunited in good time.

  The solicitor was leaving now. That hadn’t taken long. He stood up and walked across the small car park and climbed the stairs to knock on Rachel’s front door. He smiled as she opened it, a little startled at first by his arrival.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Rachel peered out to see who might have spotted him. The police officer was engrossed in his phone. ‘How did you find me?’ she panicked and was about to shut the door until he slid his foot into the doorway.

  ‘Don’t shut me out until you hear what I’ve got to say.’

  Rachel’s heart quickened. ‘I really don’t think there’s anything you can say that I need to hear.’

  He leaned in and whispered close to her ear, ‘I know who you really are.’

  ‘You have to leave,’ Rachel demanded and reached over to push him away.

  ‘I saw you.’ His words confused her. ‘I know you didn’t do it.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’ Her hand fell away from his chest.

  ‘I can help you,’ he offered. ‘But I want something in return.’

  Rachel eyed him suspiciously but given the circumstances she’d do anything right now. She was that desperate.

  ‘You better come in then.’

  She ushered Gordon inside before anyone else saw him.

  60

  A summons from Superintendent Crawford was unexpected. She’d only met James Crawford twice before. The black door with his name on it in silver writing swung open to reveal a tall man with fiery red hair and a paunch. Was he smiling? Jessie couldn’t tell for sure. He certainly wasn’t beaming, that was for sure.

  ‘Come in, Detective Inspector.’ He held the door wide and indicated for her to walk on ahead of him before he closed the door after them. ‘Please take a seat and don’t look so worried,’ he said as he lowered his hefty frame into a tall-backed black leather chair that strained a little under his weight.

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ Jessie replied, feeling nervous suddenly where she hadn’t before.

  Superintendent Crawford tidied away a file that was open on his large mahogany desk and retrieved another one from a drawer. He sat back in his chair, making it give a little.

  ‘You’re leading up the investigation into the Angus murders. I wanted to talk to you about word that’s hit my ear that says you’re not one hundred per cent sure of Rachel Ferguson’s guilt.’ He leaned his elbows on the desk and created a steeple with his fingers on which to rest his chin. He stared at Jessie while she considered her answer.

  She could lie. The evidence all pointed towards Rachel but the nagging doubt didn’t leave her.

  ‘Let me put it another way,’ he said before Jessie had a chance to muddle through the thoughts that crammed inside her head. ‘Your job is to secure a conviction for the murder of Malcolm and Jean Angus. There’s a strong case against Rachel Ferguson.’

  Wait a minute, Jessie thought. Is he ordering me to back off any other lines of enquiry?

  ‘With all due respect, sir—’

  Superintendent Crawford’s raised hand silenced her.

  ‘I’m going to tell you something – in confidence, you understand.’

  Jessie nodded, intrigued and confused in equal measure.

  ‘I was a DS in Portree the day Rachel – or Alice as she was known back then – and her boyfriend were arrested for the brutal attack that killed her grandparents. I interviewed her shortly afterwards.’

  Was he really using the emotion of her past crime to judge her guilt today?

  ‘I know that, sir. Rachel and I have discussed it and yes I agree her past strengthens the case against her but—’

  ‘You saw the crime-scene photos then?’ He swung his chair from side to side.

  ‘Again, with all due respect’ – this time he allowed Jessie to finish – ‘all I’m doing is keeping an open mind. There are other lines of enquiry I think need exploring. The Anguses’ grandson, for example. His behaviour gives me grave concerns.’

  ‘Rachel Ferguson’s DNA is at the crime scene. The size-four boot prints. The hidden gun. Her history. Her dispute with the victims.’

  When it was laid out like that, of course she looked guilty.

&n
bsp; ‘It’s the lack of gunshot residue, sir.’ Jessie left that statement hanging for him to chew over and it took him a moment to come back on it.

  ‘Report says she washed the clothes she’d been wearing and there had been plenty of time to wash the GSR away. Rachel Ferguson is a very clever woman. Don’t be fooled by the meek and mild exterior. She was able to convince the authorities David was the criminal mastermind behind the murder plot. Spent three months in a young offenders before being sent to live with a foster family, meanwhile David Law spent twenty-five years behind bars. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying he’s innocent – far from it.’

  ‘Where is David Law now?’ Jessie asked.

  ‘He lives in a homeless supported accommodation block in Dundee. The Seagate project. He has an alibi. I checked. I have his probation officer’s number if you want it.’

  Wow, he really is taking an interest in this case. I wonder how well he knew Malcolm or Jean Angus?

  ‘Do you know if they’ve had any contact with each other recently?’ Jessie asked.

  He shook his head. ‘Kenny Ferguson applied for an injunction to stop Law from approaching him and his wife several years ago, when he was told of his release from Perth prison.’

  A phone call to the Superintendent’s desk phone interrupted them and Jessie waited while he excused himself to answer it.

  David Law? Would he risk being sent back to prison for revenge? Does he even care about revenge? I expect he wants to get on with his life.

  ‘I have to take this call, so hear what I’ve said, Detective Inspector Blake. Rachel Ferguson.’

  His wide-eyed nod for emphasis wasn’t lost on Jessie but what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt.

  After gently closing his office door after her, Jessie’s first port of call was a chat with David Law.

  61

  ‘I’m Detective Inspector Jessie Blake. This is my colleague Detective Constable Logan. Can we come in and have a chat with one of your residents – David Law?’ Jessie smiled at the pretty, middle-aged woman who opened the door to the supported accommodation project. The woman looked closely at both ID cards with her eyes narrowed.

  ‘Come through; sorry, I left my glasses on my desk.’ She smiled again while she led the two detectives through a long corridor that led to a large kitchen at the end. She nodded through the doorway at a thin, balding man making a cup of tea.

  ‘Thanks,’ Jessie said before heading into the kitchen. ‘David Law?’ She held up her ID as she approached.

  Jessie thought he looked like he’d seen a ghost as they walked towards him. As he sat down at the long wooden table in the centre of the room, she asked, ‘Do you mind if we sit?’

  David shrugged before taking a sip. ‘I can’t stop you, I suppose.’

  Jessie figured it was his years inside that had created his dislike of the police. That and perhaps his sense of betrayal that he was left to carry the can for their crime?

  ‘When did you last speak to Rachel Ferguson?’ Dylan asked as he sat down opposite the gaunt figure.

  ‘Who?’ David asked.

  ‘You’ll know her better as Alice Connor,’ Jessie announced.

  ‘I can’t believe she can still be allowed to haunt me every day,’ David remarked without looking at either of them. ‘I’ve done my time. I’m sorry for my part in it. I wish I’d never met Alice Connor. I’ve said that so many times now. I just want to get on with my life.’

  Jessie remembered Superintendent Crawford saying David Law had an alibi but she had to be sure.

  ‘Where were you on Boxing Day morning, David?’

  His derisory laugh wasn’t unexpected. ‘Oh, I don’t know, Detective, in the bosom of my large, loving family, tucking into leftover turkey sandwiches over a crackling open log fire in our cabin in the country. Where were you?’

  ‘No need for the sarcasm,’ Dylan said.

  ‘I was here. The lassies in the office and the two support workers on that day can tell you that. There’s a book we have to sign in and sign oot of. Check that.’

  Jessie rested her chin on her hand as she leaned her elbow on the table. Her lips were pursed while she watched him sink the remnants of his cup of tea.

  ‘You didn’t answer the question?’

  ‘Look, I haven’t spoken to Alice or Rachel or whatever she calls herself now. I haven’t since that day. She wrote to me. I got told that after I got oot.’ He scoffed. ‘One of her letters had a picture of oor bairn in it. I was never allowed to see her either. You any idea how that feels? So no, I haven’t seen her. If that’s all you came for then I’m sorry to have disappointed you.’

  Jessie had a hunch that she couldn’t shake. She pulled the photo of Gordon Angus from the front pocket of her bag and held it up.

  ‘You ever seen this lad before?’

  ‘No, should I?’ David answered without looking at it properly.

  Jessie slid it across the table at him. ‘David, I’d appreciate it if you’d take a proper look?’

  David Law sighed and picked the photo up. He sniffed then handed it back. ‘Never seen him before.’ He glanced at his shoes before crossing his legs. ‘Who is he? Has he got something to do with Alice?’

  ‘Why do you say that?’ Dylan piped up.

  ‘Because that’s what you’re here to talk to me about,’ he scoffed. ‘But if there’s nothing else, can I go? My room won’t tidy itself, will it?’

  Jessie produced one of her cards from her jacket pocket and slid it across the table at him.

  ‘If you see this young man could you let me know?’ Jessie requested as she and Dylan both stood and pushed their chairs in close to the table. David left them with just a nod and curt goodbye before disappearing out of sight.

  ‘What did you make of that?’ Dylan asked as the two detectives made their way back to Jessie’s car.

  ‘Mm, not sure. He’s certainly pissed off with his life. I would be too if I was him,’ Jessie answered, thoughts whirring through her head.

  ‘Yes, but pissed off enough to shoot two people in cold blood?’ Dylan challenged.

  ‘Good question.’ Jessie pointed at him and lifted her phone from deep inside her pocket. ‘Perhaps we should keep a little eye on Mr Law, just in case.’

  Jessie looked back at the figure staring at the two detectives from an upstairs window in the supported accommodation unit. She held his gaze until her call was answered.

  ‘Yes, this is DI Blake. I have a person of interest I need you to keep an eye on.’

  David allowed the curtain to drop back into place. He unplugged his phone from the charger and dialled her number.

  ‘Come on – pick up,’ he urged then sighed when it went to voicemail. ‘It’s me; call me back when you get this. The police have been here. What the hell did you tell them?’

  62

  Benito smelled gorgeous like he always did as he kissed Jessie’s cheek when he arrived at the restaurant only a few minutes after her.

  ‘Did you park OK?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, not far actually. Somebody was leaving so I nabbed their space. Lucky really because there was a queue of cars behind me.’ He paused as his eyes ran the length of Jessie’s body. ‘You look lovely.’

  Jessie blushed. Benito Capello had the knack of making her feel like a teenager again. It was his brooding Latin looks. The way his big brown eyes twinkled like he was sharing a naughty secret when he smiled.

  ‘You too,’ she replied then realised she was twirling her hair when she spoke. It’s just dinner. Stop acting like it’s a hot date.

  The restaurant began filling up around them and Jessie scanned the menu. In reality, she knew what she’d be having. Same thing she always did – lasagne. For a moment, she considered whether Benito would think she was ordering that to impress him because of his Italian roots. The truth was it was her favourite.

  ‘Something from the wine menu?’ The waiter’s deep Highland lilt startled her when he approached their table from the bar be
hind them. Jessie stared up at the young lad, slim and quite feminine in appearance. She wondered where on earth that strong voice came from.

  ‘Jessie, what do you think?’ Benito suggested. ‘Not that I’m hinting I could stay at yours or anything.’

  There it was again – that naughty schoolboy grin. If Jessie wasn’t careful she could find herself falling for Benito.

  She shrugged with a grin. ‘Why not? Maybe a wee Chardonnay – is that OK for you?’

  ‘Sounds perfect,’ Benito agreed.

  Jessie’s attention was drawn to a couple who walked in. The young woman let go of her male companion’s arm to wipe rain from her hair. That face. She would recognise it anywhere. It had been etched in Jessie’s mind ever since that day. Her heart almost stopped.

  ‘Jessie, are you OK?’ Benito asked. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.

  Jessie coughed and turned away from staring at Dan and Haley who, much to Jessie’s horror, were now making their way towards their table.

  ‘What – erm, no, no… it’s fine.’ She tried to smile through the anxiety that was growing inside. It was no good. ‘Excuse me – I have to use the little girls’ room.’

  Jessie stood to leave until her way was blocked by Dan and Haley.

  ‘Ben, how weird to see you here of all places,’ Haley chirped.

  Jessie wanted to scream. She wanted to shove her shoulder into the obstruction and get the hell out of there but instead had to smile.

  ‘Jessie, this is Haley, a colleague at the lab,’ Ben introduced her.

  ‘Lovely to meet you.’ Jessie nodded to Haley then smiled at Ben. He didn’t have to know this wasn’t news to her. ‘Will you excuse me a minute?’

  Jessie slipped past, aware of her racing heart with every step away from the table. She thought she’d escaped too until Dan’s fingers curled around her wrist.