Bound By Blood

by Paul J. Teague

  ‘Try the van, see if they left the key inside. The other option is to sneak out of the gate and lock Vinnie inside. I like that one least, because he can still shoot at us. He can also shoot the padlock open. We have to try the van.’

  ‘How?’ Will asked. The short infusion of humour had dissipated already and the look of fear had returned.

  ‘I want you to distract Vinnie,’ Charlotte told him. ‘Throw gravel in the opposite direction to the van and steer him away from it. I’ll creep around the perimeter and get into the van as quietly as I can. Just keep Vinnie away from me until I can see if there’s a key inside—’

  ‘What about me?’

  She hadn’t thought about that.

  ‘Look, Will, if I get the van started, I’ll drive it forwards between the two containers directly ahead of it... numbers five and six. Look, they’re clearly marked. Get in the van and I’ll keep driving forwards, between the containers. We’ll emerge on the exit road—’

  ‘What if Vinnie’s closed the gate?’

  It hadn’t even occurred to her.

  ‘Then we drive through it if we can. But I didn’t hear it clanging when he closed it, so I reckon we’re safe. Are you up for this?’

  Will nodded, but he didn’t seem certain.

  ‘I need to know you’ve got my back, Will. Have you?’

  ‘I’ve always got your back, Charlotte. I’m just scared.’

  ‘You and me both, but we have to do this, Will. He will kill us if we don’t get out of here.’

  Will crouched down and sifted some larger stones from the gravel at his feet.

  ‘I’ll give you a signal from the container over there to our left. Watch Vinnie like a hawk; don’t let him creep up behind you.’

  Charlotte checked the folder was properly secured before giving Will a kiss, then began to step cautiously around the rear of the units. It was almost impossible to stop her shoes crunching on the gravel. She waited until she heard the creak of the door to Brett’s container, a sign that Vinnie had found the unit.

  ‘Thank you for finding Brett’s container for me, Charlotte,’ Vinnie shouted. The more he insisted on giving a running commentary, the more easily she could move behind the units.

  ‘Did you have enough time to find the paperwork or did I get here too soon? There’s a pile of junk in there. Come to think of it, once I’ve shot you and found the paperwork, I might burn out the contents. That’ll delay identification for a while. Unless of course you show yourselves now. You can’t get out of here. We might as well talk it over.’

  She reached the container to the side of the van. It was perilously close to Vinnie, but Will would take care of that. She peered out from the side; Vinnie was inside Brett’s container, no doubt trying to figure out if they’d taken the documents. She waved at Will and he held up his hand to confirm he’d seen her. Moments later, a piercing clang rang out as a large stone struck the roof of one of the containers positioned far away from her. Vinnie was out of Brett’s container in an instant, gun at the ready. Will followed it up with a second stone. Vinnie stormed away from where Charlotte was hiding, directly towards the container which Will had struck. As Vinnie moved away from her towards the sound, the gravel crunching under his feet, she ran across to the van, keeping low and coming to rest at the side of the passenger door. She waited for Vinnie to move again, then clicked the door handle, praying it wasn’t alarmed. The possibility hadn’t even occurred to her until the last moment. She opened the door, staying low, waiting for it to creak. It made a scraping sound of metal on metal, but Will timed another stone perfectly, providing a distraction at precisely the right moment. She climbed into the foot well and pulled the door closed behind her, then leaned across to the driver’s side, fumbling for the ignition, hoping to find a key. She was out of luck. A wave of panic swept over her. What if she’d made the wrong call? This was a crazy idea.

  Keeping low, she placed the paperwork underneath the loose offcut of carpet on the driver’s side. She was relieved they’d collected it together in the one folder, it made it easier to conceal. If Vinnie caught them, at least he might not find the documents. As she lifted the carpet, she spotted the edge of a car key tucked away in the far corner. She waited for Will to throw another stone. Vinnie would soon figure out he was being distracted.

  Charlotte climbed across to sit in the driver’s seat and pushed the key into the ignition area, realising she only had one shot at this. If the van stalled or spluttered, it would take Vinnie a matter of seconds to get to her. And he had a gun, that damn gun. She pushed her body forward as far as she could and placed her fingers firmly on the key as she waited for Will to throw another stone. The metallic clang was followed by more crunches of footsteps in gravel.

  She turned the key.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  From her crouched position in the van, she saw the glow from the dashboard lights. At least it was connected to the battery; that was a start. She made the second turn. The moment the engine made a sound, she needed to drive. It would have to be smooth and fast; Vinnie would be on her in a moment.

  As soon as the engine turned, she released the hand brake and her hand moved to the gear stick, her foot searching for the clutch. There were only two pedals. The engine hadn’t fired. She looked around, her senses heightened now by the fear that the car might not run. She tried again; the engine turned but did not catch. Vinnie emerged from behind a container, gun drawn and ready to fire. He stormed towards her as she tried the engine again. Nothing. Vinnie was almost upon her.

  Charlotte was bracing herself for the door to open, when Vinnie stopped dead and fell to his knees. Will stood behind him, a table lamp in his hand. He darted to the passenger side of the vehicle while she tried the engine again, her eyes on Vinnie all the time. He was shocked and hurt, but not out cold. She recalled how hard it had been for her to steady herself after the anaesthetic wore off. Vinnie had injected her, but the doctor had injected Vinnie; Vinnie’s had probably been more expertly deployed.

  At last, the engine fired. She almost screamed with joy as it chugged then finally found its momentum.

  ‘Drive!’ Will said.

  ‘It’s an automatic; what do I do?’

  Will pushed the gear stick into drive and she felt the vehicle lurch forward.

  ‘Floor it!’ he said. ‘It’s like a bumper car, just use the accelerator and the brake. Now go!’

  She obeyed, and the van lunged forward. Easing off, she steered between two containers. The van was blacked out at the back, and the rear-view mirror was missing. In her side mirror, she saw Vinnie raising his weapon. Two bullets struck the back of the van, puncturing the metal, but the rear doors absorbed the shots. Charlotte was thankful for the steel panel directly behind the seats.

  ‘Where to?’ she asked Will.

  ‘Who knows? The police station?’

  ‘No, not yet. We need a call box. I have to speak to Kate. We have everything she wanted now; it must be time for her to come out of hiding.’

  ‘Go rural,’ Will suggested, ‘in case he tracks us.’

  ‘He can’t track us; we’re not in the company car now.’

  ‘Do it anyway. Go via Overton, there’s a phone box where you can call Kate and ask her what to do. If he did put a tracker on us, there’s no signal on some of these country roads. At least it’ll take him off the scent.’

  Charlotte was getting the hang of the automatic, though by instinct her hand kept feeling for the gear stick and her left foot constantly searched for the clutch. She took as many side roads as she could, in an erratic course, trying to work out how to throw Vinnie off their tail if he was tracking them in some way. Her mind started working in overdrive; might there have been something in the injection? She offered the theory to Will.

  ‘You’ve been watching too many spy films,’ he replied. ‘I’m fairly sure even the British Army can’t inject you with trackers yet, let alone Vinnie Mace.’

  They soon arrived at Ove
rton. The village was quiet, with just the occasional, late-night dog walker around. The village call box wasn’t being used.

  ‘Move the lever to the P position,’ Will advised. ‘Keep it running; I don’t trust that man not to be following us.’

  Charlotte got out and opened the door to the call box. She felt in her pockets for change; she had a few coins, sufficient to make a quick call. She still had the scrunched-up piece of paper with Kate’s number on it deep in her pocket. She smiled to herself as she remembered Vinnie had put his hand in those pockets when he was searching for her car keys. He hadn’t looked for anything else. It was all well and good setting up a torture room, but he could have saved himself a lot of trouble if he’d frisked her first. She wondered if the Afghan rebels ever used elite tricks like that.

  She dialled Kate’s number.

  ‘Please pick up, Kate,’ she urged as the call connection was made.

  ‘Charlotte?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve got everything.’

  ‘Oh, thank God, Charlotte. The time passes so slowly hidden up here.’

  She could hear the distinctive sound again in the background.

  ‘Are you still safe? We need to know what to do next.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘Will and I. Don’t ask; it’s a long story. I don’t believe it myself.’

  ‘You’re sure you have everything, Charlotte? Did you find Brett’s storage unit?’

  ‘Yes, Will got the folder. It’s got some legal contract and something I don’t understand; like a Chemistry exam paper or something. Is it what you expected?’

  ‘Yes, yes, it’s perfect. And you have the other papers?’

  ‘Not in my hands, but they’re safe where nobody can find them. I have them all, Kate. Can you come out of hiding now?’

  ‘There’s one more thing, Charlotte. I’m sorry, we’re almost there now. I’ve had a lot of time to think, to work out what they might try to do. I’m sorry to ask you to do this. You need to break Tiffany Irwin out of the care home.’

  ‘Break her out? As in take her without permission?’

  ‘Yes. I only realised it this afternoon. Once they realise we have the paperwork, their only remaining option is to kill Tiffany—’

  ‘Fabian wouldn’t do that to his own sister, surely?’

  ‘There’s so much money involved here, Charlotte. And not just money. They’ve every reason to want her dead. And they can do it in an instant. They’ve kept her cooped up in that care home for years. It only takes a mis-administered drug or a staged suicide bid and they can render the documents useless. We’ve come so far now; we must close off all the escape routes. Can you do this one last thing for me? I’m sorry to ask you. If I step outside, they’ll come for me. Now they know what I know, if they get me, it’s all over. For everybody.’

  ‘Kate, it’s okay, I’ll do it. What should I do with Tiffany when I’ve got her?’

  ‘Hide her. Somewhere safe. Somewhere where they’ll never find her. Oh, and I’ve been working things out. When it’s time to come out of hiding, call DI Comfort. I’m as sure as I can be that he’s safe—’

  There was a beeping on the line; Charlotte was out of money.

  ‘Stay safe, Kate. I’ll get Tiffany. I have a contact inside the home. If she’s still on shift, she’ll help me. Then I’ll call you again and we’ll get it sorted out.’

  The call was terminated abruptly. Her credit had run out. There was no mercy when it came to ending a call in a pay phone: no money, no call.

  ‘What did she say?’ Will asked.

  ‘We have one more thing to do. I’m going to have to find Hollie Wickes again to help us. We need to break Tiffany out of the care home. I’m going to hide her with Hollie. It looks like we’re getting a mother and child reunion—’

  ‘What are we going to do, just walk in there and take her out?’

  ‘Something like that,’ Charlotte answered. ‘But I need to call Hollie first.’

  She fumbled for her phone and checked the display.

  ‘No signal. I’ll drive back towards civilisation so I can call Hollie. Watch the display, will you? Tell me when I have a signal.’

  Charlotte pushed the lever into drive, the car lurched forward, and she pressed down on the accelerator. She turned the car around and headed back to Middleton. As they entered the village, Will confirmed he’d got a mobile signal. She pulled over, parked the car and dialled Hollie, who answered after five rings. She was somewhere busy, a bar or something similar.

  ‘Hollie? It’s Charlotte.’

  ‘Hey, Charlotte. I’m still with Callie. We’re back at the university, having a drink in the bar. We both feel the same. We don’t need a DNA test; somehow we know we’re sisters. It just feels right.’

  Charlotte didn’t challenge her. She understood the two young women were euphoric about being reunited, but the fireworks needed to wait until science had done its work and confirmed the truth via a DNA test.

  ‘You’re going to meet your mother tonight, Hollie.’

  ‘Really? When?’

  ‘In about thirty minutes from now. Can you afford a taxi to Torrisholme? I’ll pay you back.’

  ‘Yes, why?’

  ‘Tell Callie to meet me at the bench where we stopped this morning. She knows where it is. Half an hour, okay?’

  Hollie confirmed the arrangements. She sounded as excited as if somebody had just brought Christmas Day forward by twenty-four hours.

  Charlotte ended the call and looked at Will.

  ‘I’ve just figured something out,’ she said, looking across at him.

  ‘What?’ he asked.

  ‘The penny dropped finally when I was speaking to Hollie just then. I have no idea why it took me so long to work it out. I know where DCI Summers is hiding.’

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  December 1999

  Tiffany watched as Georgina coaxed her children away from the play area. It was only the promise of gingerbread snowmen at the bakery that intercepted the tantrums. She would have similar problems with Callie and Jane, but she knew the lure of the library would distract them. She hated chasing Georgina off, but Brett would arrive soon, and she couldn’t afford to get him embroiled in her life here. They weren’t sticking around in Morecambe, after all.

  Georgina finally managed to manoeuvre her children so they were ready to head for the bakery. Tiffany hugged her friend while Georgina’s reined child tapped at her leg, asking when they were going to the baker’s.

  ‘I love you, Georgie,’ Tiffany said. ‘Thank you so much for organising the test for me. You’ll never know how much you’ve helped me.’

  Georgina gently pulled away from Tiffany and looked her directly in the eyes.

  ‘You’d think we were never going to see each other again,’ she said.

  Tiffany felt a pang of guilt and regret.

  ‘I’ll see you at the village hall on New Year’s Eve. Have a lovely Christmas. Take care, Georgie.’

  She gave them a wave as they walked towards the bakery then did a double take at a passing police officer. The WPC looked familiar, but she couldn’t place her.

  The library book bribe worked as planned, without any of the tantrums displayed by Georgina’s children on leaving the play area. Before long, Callie was toddling towards her with a library book from the pram tray in her hand and she was in time to meet Brett.

  He moved in to give her a peck on the cheek, but she brushed him away.

  ‘Not here, not yet, Brett. I want it too, but we can’t be too obvious out in the open. I’m happy to be seen together, because nobody knows who you are. But we can’t alert anybody to our relationship. If David hears about it, it will mess up everything.’

  Tiffany couldn’t wait to be with Brett. He lifted her confidence whenever they were together, making her feel everything was going to be okay. She was desperate to hold him, but they’d soon have the rest of their lives together. As they walked along, she drew her hand up into her coat sleeve a li
ttle, then reached out to take Brett’s hand. They were dressed up for the cold day; nobody would look twice at them.

  As they walked and chatted, she considered telling him about Rowan. He was so good with the baby, gazing at him in the pram, marvelling at his tiny, gloved hands, and making Callie and Jane laugh with his funny faces and silly voices. This was the family life she’d wanted.

  She decided not to share Rowan’s paternity, not just yet. That would be her gift to him. Once they were safely away, she’d tell him; he would be delighted to hear it. There would be none of David’s coldness, none of the indifference towards her children. Brett was already a better friend to the children, even though he barely knew them. He would make a wonderful father.

  ‘How long do you have?’ Tiffany asked.

  ‘Not long,’ Brett replied. ‘I’ll need to leave you soon. The house is all packed up and ready to go.’

  ‘We should move towards the library then,’ Tiffany replied. ‘The girls will get restless if they think we’re not going. Let’s take the longer way round and make the most of what time we have left.’

  They walked towards the sliding doors and stepped out into the winter chill, the heaters above the Arndale Centre’s entrance forming a protective force field against the biting wind. They took a left turn, towards the rear of the postal delivery depot, talking about their plans for the future. Tiffany looked ahead. A man was walking towards them with a familiar gait; it was David.

  ‘Oh no, it’s David. You need to make yourself scarce—’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Up ahead, he’s seen us. Go, Brett, I’ll cover for you. I’ll tell him you were asking for directions. Go, quickly.’

  Brett touched her hand with his finger; she got the message. He rushed on ahead, not looking back, ignoring David, brazening it out.

  David’s face was full of thunder. He brushed past Brett, bumping his shoulder, and stormed up to Tiffany.

  ‘Hey!’ Brett shouted.

  ‘So that’s him,’ David said.