Bound By Blood
Page 1
Bound By Blood
Morecambe Bay Trilogy 2
Paul J. Teague
Contents
Also by Paul J. Teague
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Epilogue
Free Gift
Also by Paul J. Teague
About the Author
Also by Paul J. Teague
Morecambe Bay Trilogy 1
Book 1 - Left For Dead - read it here
Book 2 - Circle of Lies - read it here
Book 3 - Truth Be Told - read it here
Morecambe Bay Trilogy 2
Book 4 - Trust Me Once - read it here
Book 5 - Fall From Grace - read it here
Book 6 - Bound By Blood - read it here
Note: The Morecambe Bay trilogies are best read in the order shown above.
Don’t Tell Meg Trilogy
Features DCI Kate Summers and Steven Terry.
Book 1 - Don’t Tell Meg - read it here
Book 2 - The Murder Place - read it here
Book 3 - The Forgotten Children - read it here
Standalone Thrillers
Dead of Night - read it here
One Last Chance - read it here
No More Secrets - read it here
So Many Lies - read it here
Two Years After - read it here
Friends Who Lie - read it here
Now You See Her - read it here
Prologue
7:53 pm December 31st, 1999
Tiffany knew that carrying out their plans would destroy the tattered remnants of her family, but it was too late to go back now, even if she wanted to. She loved Brett, and it was high time she left her brief and miserable marriage. Somehow, she’d got caught in a trap of relationships, money, property and children. Everything was a mess and unpicking it would have a massive impact. She secretly hoped it might also knock the smug smirk off David’s face once and for all.
She had to look her best for the event, that much she understood. She would trot out everything David loved about her – or had once loved – like a tired circus act, but she’d deliver her final performance with full show business panache. It was time to play her finest role as a supportive wife, doting mother and pillar of the community. Nobody must know they were about to stitch up her brother and her husband, rendering them impotent in a way that would enrage both of the narcissistic monsters.
They hadn’t always been like this. Fabian had been a good brother when they were children, but she’d seen the first signs of his appetites as a young teenager. He’d quickly become entrepreneurial and ambitious, and his greed and determination came to know no bounds.
She’d loved David too once, for a short time, but he and her brother were a dangerous combination. Like Bonnie and Clyde, Fred and Rosemary West or Ian Brady and Myra Hindley, there was something about the pairing that brought out the very worst in both. And David had little time for the kids. It was such a corny mistake to make in their marriage, but Tiffany had made it; she lived for the children, but David didn’t. And when Rowan came along... well, David must have suspected something wasn’t right.
Brett offered her a way out. But she was no ordinary housewife, making a midnight dash with a new lover. There were three children involved for starters, and a property and land inheritance potentially worth millions. Then there was the issue of the power of attorney granted to her brother while she was suffering from post-natal depression. Tiffany had long cursed the accident of biology which meant a wonderful experience like giving birth had brought her crashing down to the depths of a depression so desperate that she would attempt to take her own life. In a moment of weakness, Fabian struck and had her temporarily committed. He might as well have locked her in a cupboard and thrown away the key. Her existence became one of reliance and appeasement, a cage from which she saw no escape until Brett entered her life.
Tiffany checked her hair in the full-length mirror. David had always preferred it worn up. He loved her neck, or so he said. Whether he’d even noticed it for the past year was another matter altogether, but he’d desired her once; he would surely notice what she’d done.
That bitch Joanne Taylor was getting her precious children ready. She was another insult Tiffany had been forced to accept. They’d agreed to let the kids sleep as long as they wanted to, in the vague hope they might make it to midnight without tears, tantrums and over-tiredness forcing them to leave before the new millennium showed its face.
David was sleeping with Joanne, she knew it. Their affair had started before he had brought her into their home to care for the children. It was some way of recruiting a new childminder: give the job to someone you’re sleeping with. She would have admired the sheer audacity of it if it hadn’t been so crushing for her. Tiffany didn’t just want to leave; she was desperate to hurt the bastard for everything he’d done.
There was nothing like a tight, black dress showing lots of cleavage to draw the attention of the men. She hated her feminist self for even playing that card, but it was a means to an end, part of a greater plan for that night. She adjusted her bra, which was much less practical than she preferred, checked her lipstick wasn’t smudged and made her way downstairs.
The moment she entered the kitchen, she could tell they’d just pulled away from each other. This was what her life was like now, constantly hearing whispers and sensing intimate liaisons in rooms around the house. Damn the woman for living under the same roof as them, masquerading as the nanny. Tiffany had wondered if she was descending into the black hole of madness again, but Brett reassured her she wasn’t. Being with Brett calmed her mind and helped her make sense of her world.
David could barely contain his contempt for her. They were hardly touching each other when she fell pregnant with Rowan; little wonder he had his suspicions.
Joanne had played the same card as she had, with a figure-hugging, sleek dress, an expensive haircut, her cleavage on full display and a make-up job worthy of a professional. She looked spectacular; no wonder David had fallen so hard for her. But the evil, money-grabbing bitch had seen her opportunity, making no attempt to hide her contempt for Tiffany when David wasn’t around. It was time for revenge; she and Brett would have the last laugh.
‘Good, you’re ready,’ David said, barely looking at her. ‘I’ve had to change my plans, I’m afraid. I need to leave at ten o’clock to meet a business contact in Morecambe. It can’t be helped, but I’ll do my bit with the villagers until then.’
Had he seen the look of panic on her face? She tried to conceal it, but it seemed he could read her mind these days. She ran through the implications of this change to the schedule. She would have to warn Brett to take more care. If David was out in the car park early, he mi
ght spot him there, waiting for their moment to escape.
‘I just need to go upstairs again, I’ve forgotten to unplug my straighteners,’ she lied. Brett had to know about the change of plan; this might be the last chance to call him. She had to put the tickets in her handbag too. It was safest to do that at the last moment. If David or Joanne saw them, it would be game over. Even Brett wasn’t aware of that part of her plan.
She did her best to walk calmly up to the bedroom, trying not to look like she was up to something. Hastily, she texted Brett.
David leaving village hall at 10. Will get out asap after that. Don’t forget passport. Will explain later. Take care, don’t let him see you x
She put her phone in her bag and slid her hand under the mattress. The tickets were still there. Her heart gave a jump; she’d half expected them to be gone. They had to get away tonight. The legal document revoking David’s power of attorney over her affairs came into force at one minute past midnight. By then, she’d be away with Brett and they wouldn’t be able to touch her any longer. Then Fabian, David and Joanne could all go to hell.
She placed the envelope in the inner compartment of her bag and zipped it shut. It was showtime.
The village hall affair was as she’d imagined. They’d done a wonderful job of making the place look amazing, with helium-filled balloons and streamers all over the place. The village hall committee had made the ordinarily bland chairs and tables look spectacular, thanks to some artfully placed accessories and table decorations. David’s contribution took pride of place on the stage: an expensive flat screen TV, on which they would watch the celebrations from around the country. The village DJ was there, filling in between sets from a competent covers band. And all around were fractious, over-excited children who should have been in bed hours ago, and tense parents praying they might make it to see in one of the most important new year events of their lifetime.
David left at ten o’clock, as he’d said he would. He’d spent much of the evening with Joanne, circulating with his lover, confirming the villagers’ usual gossip and idle speculation. He let Tiffany know he was leaving with a few scant words. She glanced around to check Joanne’s whereabouts, then texted Brett. Her new year and her new life would begin as soon as David had gone. This was the last time she would see him. When the chimes sounded for midnight, they would be well on their way.
She checked around for Joanne again. Where was she? Had she left with David? It was ten past ten and Brett would be waiting out there, expecting her at any moment. Rowan obliged by crying when a particularly loud track burst through the DJ’s speakers. It was her cue. She gathered the children together and made her excuses to the villagers she’d been exchanging pleasantries with.
‘I’m so sorry, it doesn’t look like I’m going to make it; Rowan’s had enough now. I’ll be with you in spirit.’
It took a good ten minutes to get out of the village hall. She wished she could have told them all to get lost and leave her alone, but she knew they meant well. What a relief it was to step out into the crisp, fresh night air.
Brett flashed his lights at her from the far end of the car park. He’d concealed himself well from David.
Suddenly, Joanne appeared from nowhere and rushed towards her, accompanied by a man she’d seen only once before. She had a vague idea he was a doctor. He raised his arm, and she felt a short, sharp prick in her neck. As Tiffany fell to the ground, she heard David’s voice.
After that, it was a mess of fragments: a drive to a remote place, lots of car lights and hushed, hurried conversations, a terrible commotion, Brett shouting, a gun shot... then panic. Tiffany felt herself fading, and everything went black.
When she came round, she was in the driver’s seat of the car, in a strange place, with the engine still running. Her head felt as if it was smothered with a thick blanket of fog, and she was only dimly aware of Brett’s sister Kate at her side, in a panic, with fear in her voice, dragging her out of the vehicle, laying her on the ground. And the children. The children were gone, and Rowan’s teddy bear toy was bobbing about in the sea. Oh God, what had they done?
Chapter One
Charlotte was shivering uncontrollably. While Vinnie had been on her tail, she’d pushed the bone-chilling coldness to the back of her mind, but now, crouching on the exposed platform at the base of the wind turbine far out at sea, it was all she could think of. It seemed to take the maintenance team an age to make what looked like a short crossing, but having been deceived once already by the scale of the turbines, she decided her eyes must be playing tricks on her. At last her rescuers pulled up their boat beside the ladder, their heavy feet clanking on the steps of the steel rungs.
‘Bring up a blanket!’ the first man shouted down to one of his colleagues. He pulled himself up onto the platform and rushed over to Charlotte.
‘Are you okay? Can you understand me?’
Charlotte’s mouth was so numb that she could only manage a few words.
‘I’m cold, very cold.’
A woman joined them on the platform, tearing open a packet and pulling out a foil blanket. Charlotte had seen them on TV and had always wondered what use they’d be.
‘She doesn’t seem too bad,’ the woman said. ‘Her eyes are alert; we need to get her on the boat and out of those wet clothes.’
‘How the hell did you even get out here?’ the man asked.
‘I took a wrong turn on my jet-ski,’ Charlotte answered.
‘Well, she’s still got a sense of humour, so it can’t be too bad,’ the woman observed.
‘We’re going to help you onto the boat. What’s your name?’ the man asked.
‘Charlotte.’
‘Okay, Charlotte, let’s get you onto the boat so you can change out of those clothes. All we can offer you is a pair of overalls and an oversized T-shirt, but they should help, at least. Is there anybody we need to call?’
Charlotte thought about Lucia; should she let her know what had happened? Yes, she must. Her daughter was on alert to call the police. She needed to speak to the police as well, but she had a plan for that which could wait until later. She didn’t want to risk the cops swarming around like a nest of angry ants. To keep Will safe, she’d have to get the police involved at the right time.
‘Later,’ she replied. ‘Will call later. Please don’t get the police—’
‘I’m not so sure we can promise that,’ the man answered. ‘You’ve entered private property and got into trouble at sea. There are rules and regulations—’
The woman glared at him.
‘Bill—’
‘What?’
‘Don’t be a prick. She’s a middle-aged woman who came a cropper on a jet-ski. I’ll put money on her being a professional of some sort.’
‘But—’
‘No need to be a dick about it. Let’s get her warmed up and think this through.’
Bill nodded and offered Charlotte his arm to help her up. She shuffled to the edge of the platform. Although there were barriers around it, the view down to the boat was still daunting, with the waves thundering below. When she’d been climbing up there, fuelled by adrenaline, it hadn’t seemed so high. Even with Vinnie out of the way – for now – she was scared to make her descent. Bill and the woman both helped her down to the boat where two other male crew mates were waiting on board.
‘Right, give the lady some privacy,’ the woman said. ‘I’m Tina, by the way. Come through here with me and we’ll get you into some dry clothes. How about you get the kettle on, Bill?’
This woman appeared to be in charge, or at least she had the respect of the crew. Charlotte accepted her help to get out of her wet clothing; it was like peeling off a second skin. She dried herself off with a small hand towel and chose some clothes from the mixed array they’d managed to piece together between them. She felt like she was selecting random items from a jumble sale.
‘Sorry, I’ve no knickers to offer you, but I can assure you those shorts are clean. You
might find the overalls a bit more forgiving with them on.’
Charlotte mused over how her life had come to this low point. For the third time in a week, she needed emergency underwear.
There was a knock at the door.
‘It’s safe to come in,’ Tina called.
Bill entered cautiously, holding two cups of steaming liquid.
‘I made cup-a-soups; it seemed like the best thing to do.’
‘Good call, Bill.’ Tina smiled at him. ‘Why don’t you and the guys finish the last checks while I take care of Charlotte here? Give me a shout if you need me.’
‘Will do,’ Bill replied, leaving them to it.
Charlotte took a seat, grateful to be in dry clothes. Tina encouraged her to wrap the foil blanket around her and as the chicken soup made its way into her belly, she felt much better and ready to talk.
‘So how does a woman like you end up stranded at the base of a wind turbine? You’re lucky; they’re usually locked up, but we left the ladder down to leave some equipment there before heading back to shore.’
‘Well, thank God it was,’ Charlotte replied. She could feel her mouth now. ‘It was only from talking to a chap called Sam Halford about this place that I thought to—’
‘You know Sam?’
‘Yes. I take it you wind turbine people are all familiar with each other?’ Charlotte asked.