“Ryan, glad you came,” smiled Chris.
“I certainly did,” he replied, thinking of his earlier session with Rachel on the kitchen table.
“Where’s Leah?”
“Angela met her out front. She’s already taken her round to the stables.”
“No Rachel?”
“The boys were worn out after their swimming lesson so she’s stayed at home with them.”
“I see. How are they getting on with their lessons?” said Chris as he led Ryan inside the house.
“Ethan’s doing really well, he’s even diving to the bottom of the pool now but Aaron’s stuck doing the doggy paddle with his chin in the air. He’s never felt at home in the water while Ethan’s half-seal.”
Chris chuckled. “It always amazed me with my own sons how different brothers can be.”
“How are your boys?”
“Good. Simon’s finally passed his driving test after the fourth try.”
“Good for him. Anything wrong?” he added when Chris stopped dead in his tracks.
“It just occurred to me, Simon worked on the annex at your place when it was being built. Just as a labourer mind, he filled in when one of the men had to take emergency leave for some reason, I forget why. Simon didn’t work there long, he got the flat in Plymouth with his friend. I might give him a call and ask if he saw anything unusual.”
“It’s worth a try,” replied Ryan. This was very handy, it saved him from having to broach the subject with Chris directly.
“My man den’s down here,” said Chris, heading to a wooden door tucked under the stairs that Ryan had always taken to be a cupboard. Instead it opened to reveal a set of wooden steps descending into blackness. He started to wonder whether this had been such a good idea after all. Instead he could be outside in the fresh air watching Leah ride her pony, her cares falling away, as they always did when she was with Sophia. Or he could be at home with his family, curled up on the couch with Rachel and a glass of wine.
Chris hit a switch just inside the door and the steps were flooded with light. Ryan was careful to let Chris go first and they descended the steep, rickety steps.
“Here we are, home sweet home,” said Chris proudly at the bottom of the stairs.
“You don’t do things by halves, do you Chris?” said Ryan.
The den was actually a huge room spanning the length of the ground floor of the large farmhouse. It had a fully stocked bar with optics off to the left, couches and beanbags to sit on, a pool table, jukebox, computer set up at a desk in the corner, air hockey table, X-Box and an enormous flat screen TV, a tall pile of DVD’s precariously stacked beside it.
“Everything a man could wish for, eh Ryan?” said Chris, planting his hands on his hips while surveying his domain.
Ryan wasn’t so sure. Where were the books? The only thing in the room that interested him was the computer. He would love to know what secrets that held.
“Drink?” offered Chris.
“Just an orange juice thanks, I’m driving.”
“Sure you won’t take something stronger? I can do you a scotch and water or a beer.”
“It’s a travesty to dilute whisky. Orange juice will be fine thanks.”
Chris nodded and went behind the small bar to prepare the drinks.
Ryan perched on one of the stools arranged around it. “I would have returned your t-shirt but Rachel insisted on washing it first,” he said.
“No worries. Keep it as long as you like,” said Chris.
Not likely, Ryan thought disdainfully. “What does Angela think of your den?”
“She’s all for it. It means she has the remote control to herself.”
“Ah, the age old bone of contention between man and wife. Not that I think there is much contention between you and Angela, you seem very happy together.”
“We have our ups and downs like any other couple but yes, I’d say we were.”
Ryan was disappointed. He’d hoped for more than that.
“Rachel thinks you were made for each other,” he added, hoping to provoke some sort of reaction.
“That’s very sweet of her,” he smiled. “There you go, one orange juice,” he said, placing it before him on the bar.
“Thank you.” He took a sip and tried not to grimace. Cordial.
“I’m afraid everyone’s discussing the body under your annex,” said Chris.
“Can’t say I’m surprised.”
“I think I should warn you, the local papers are going to rehash Rachel’s kidnapping.”
Ryan replaced his glass on the bar, eyes flashing. “What?”
“I’ve got a friend who works as a reporter on one of them. It’s not him, it’s his editor. It’s the biggest thing to happen since, well…”
“Rachel’s kidnapping?”
“I hate to say it but yes.”
“It’s only to be expected I suppose,” he said, taking another sip of the gruesome orange to give himself time to think. If the local rags started probing into their recent pasts then what was to stop them from delving further? So far they’d been lucky, no one had found out who they really were, apart from DI Boyle, but he’d kept it to himself. All it would take would be one reporter from the local area calling Manchester and speaking to a colleague up there. He wondered if Chris would be so quick to invite him into his man den if he knew what type of man he really was?
“We’ll weather the storm but I appreciate the warning,” said Ryan.
“She’s doing okay after that, isn’t she? I never like to ask her directly.”
“She’s fine, she’s very strong.”
Chris brought his bottle of lager round the bar with him and sat on the stool beside Ryan. “You and Rachel seem like another strong couple.”
“We are.”
“Another pair of soul mates,” Chris said sadly.
Ryan grew very uncomfortable when it appeared the man was on the verge of crying. “Are you alright?”
“Me, fine. Just a bit of dust,” he said, wiping the corner of one eye. “It’s everywhere after the renovations.”
“Chris, is something wrong?”
“No. I’m absolutely dandy.”
Ryan was quick to detect the bitterness in his tone. “If there is you can talk to me. We’re…friends,” he said uncertainly, feeling out of his depth. He didn’t do touchy feely.
Chris sighed. “Do you ever feel like you’re the luckiest bastard in the world?”
“Every day,” replied Ryan, puzzled as to where this was going.
“I know I am. I’ve got a great wife, healthy sons, money in the bank, a beautiful home, but somehow it’s not enough.”
“You mean you feel you’re lacking something? I think we all experience that at one time or another.”
But Chris wasn’t listening, he had already drifted into his own world. “I mean I love Angela, I really do, I couldn’t live without her but sometimes I would like…”
Ryan leaned forward in his seat. “Yes?”
He recoiled when Chris attempted to kiss him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” demanded Ryan, jumping up off the stool.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”
“I don’t know about you but I am not attracted to men in the slightest. In fact I’m not attracted to anyone except Rachel.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” whispered Chris, looking absolutely stricken. “I don’t know what I‘m doing, it’s this whole body being found thing.”
“What has that got to do with you?” said Ryan suspiciously, thinking he might just have solved the mystery and way ahead of the police too. How gratifying.
“I had an…indiscretion a few years ago…with a man. Daniel Tebbs. One of the missing men. Don’t look at me like that, I didn’t do anything to him. I miss him.”
Ryan was appalled when tears filled Chris’s eyes. Crying women were bad enough but a crying man was even worse. “What happened?” he mumbled, gingerly patting the man o
n the shoulder.
“I’d had these feelings for years, since high school. Don’t get me wrong, I like women too, I find them attractive, you know, sexually. Angela to me is gorgeous, but there’s this part of me that likes men too. Daniel was so handsome and fit and strong, you remind me of him. He had this elegance about him, like you do.”
“I’m elegant?” he frowned.
“Very. We met at the local gym, I’d decided to try and lose some weight. We got talking and one thing led to another. Finally I felt complete, like these two halves of me were being fulfilled after years of feeling empty. Then he disappeared and I never saw him again. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t in love with him or anything, I love Angela, but he was my good friend, he helped me and I miss him every day.” Chris hung his head, looking ashamed. “I’ve never really been attracted to another man since, I was happy with Angela, getting on with things. Then you had to take your top off in my kitchen and it started up again.”
“Sorry about that,” said Ryan, feeling guilty. He’d knocked this man back into torment because he’d wanted to test a theory. “I think the best thing we can do is just forget this ever happened. Your secret’s safe with me.”
“I love Angela, I truly do,” wailed Chris before burying his face in his hands and sobbing.
“Yes, I’m sure you do,” said Ryan awkwardly, just wanting to get out of there. “Thanks for the drink but I’d better check on Leah. Will you be okay?”
The sobbing stopped and Chris raised his head and wiped his eyes. “Fine,” he sighed wearily. “Thanks Ryan, it felt good to get that off my chest, its weighed me down for years and thanks for not punching me, I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. “What do you think happened to Daniel?”
“I think some bastard killed him. He was so happy, he wouldn’t have committed suicide or run away like the police said. He’s dead and it’s killing me that his body might be the one under your annex.”
“Why would it be? Seven other men are missing.”
“Because the night he disappeared he was walking back from here through the fields after we’d spent some time…together.”
Ryan was stunned. “Did you tell the police?”
“Of course I did, but I just made out that he’d come to fix my computer, he was a genius with them. What I didn’t tell them was that it wasn’t the first time he’d been here, we met regularly for a few weeks.”
“Same time and day?”
“Yes. Wednesday evening at seven, after Angela left for her pottery class and the boys were playing football.”
Ryan thought this was interesting, very interesting indeed.
“You won’t forget your promise to keep this to yourself?” Chris called after him as he walked up the stairs.
“You have my word,” Ryan called back. Well, he didn’t intend to tell anyone, except Rachel, Battler and Bruiser, but they could be trusted to keep it to themselves.
“How did you find the man den?” Angela asked Ryan as he strolled up to the paddock.
“It was very interesting,” he replied. “How’s she doing?” he said, gesturing to Leah riding her pony.
“Really well. She’s a natural.”
Ryan’s heart soared. Leah looked so happy, so untroubled, the way a nine year old girl should look. Maybe it was true what they said about the healing effects of horses?
Once again the hairs on the back of his neck pricked up and he spun round, scanning the surrounding countryside, but there was nothing there. His instinct had been honed from years of living dangerously and taking on the worst elements of society. He wasn’t the type of man to imagine danger where there was none. But what could he do if he couldn’t even see it coming?
CHAPTER 10
It was a relief when Mikey returned home to a quiet house, everyone already tucked up in bed. Before going up himself he had a sneaky whisky in his office, he really was getting too fond of Ryan and Rachel’s Abercraig whisky. Then he crept upstairs, looking in on Jamie, who was fast asleep. He’d always been a good sleeper, right from birth, for which he was very thankful. The sight of this little boy he’d made with Amber softened him to her after their argument earlier.
He crept into his bedroom and found her wide awake reading a book. Angrily she cast the novel aside when he walked in and folded her arms across her chest. “Where have you been?” she whispered so as not to disturb the rest of the house.
“I had a bit of business to attend to.”
“How do I know you haven’t been out with some woman? You stink of alcohol.”
Mikey was non-plussed. She’d never accused him of cheating before. “I’ve had one whisky and I had that in my office when I came in.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes because it’s the truth. You’ve never called me a liar before, not until your mum came to stay. Been telling you I’ve been seeing other women, has she?”
He knew he’d hit the nail on the head when she pouted and evaded the question. “Stop dragging my mum into everything, this is between us. Do you fancy her too?”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I want her to go home to Ken so we can be a family again.”
“You leave my mum alone. I want to know where you’ve been.”
“I told you I had some business with Jez.”
“What business?”
“You know I can’t tell you that.”
“Because it would be dangerous for me to know?”
He nodded.
“It’s just a bit too convenient is this. You can’t ever tell me what you’ve been up to because it’s supposedly dangerous knowledge. You could be up to anything and I’m stuck here like a lemon.”
“You’re not a lemon, you’re too cute,” he said playfully.
She was unable to resist a half-smile. “Mikey, please, I’m trying to be serious.”
He kicked off his shoes and crawled across the bed to her on all fours. “You’re so adorable with your big red curls and your pouty little mouth. I want to kiss that delicious little mouth.”
She allowed him to plant a kiss on her lips before she said, “we need to talk Mikey.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” he said, burying his nose in her curls, enjoying her delicate perfume. “I really have been with Jez on business then I came straight home, had a cheeky whisky then came up here to you because it was where I wanted to be.” He pulled back slightly to look into her sea green eyes. “Because I love you Mrs Maguire, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and all evening all I could think about was coming home to you and making love to you.”
Amber’s resolve melted. “You haven’t been cheating on me?”
Gently he cupped her face. “Where’s this come from? I’ve never cheated on you, not once. You’ve never doubted me before.”
“I know, I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Mikey thought he knew exactly what was wrong but decided to keep it to himself, for now. She looked so beautiful he just wanted to devour her. “I love you Amber, you’re the first and only woman I’ve ever loved and I won’t cheat on you, I couldn’t.” He kissed her neck and her arms went around him. “Tell me you love me too.”
“I love you Mikey,” she breathed as he pressed her back into the pillows and pushed her nightgown up to her waist.
He ran his fingers up her left leg, starting at her ankle and slowly travelling all the way up to her thigh, which never failed to get her going. He gave her a long, deep kiss, full of reassurance and love. “You’re my girl Amber, no one else.”
She smiled up at him from the pillow, her cloud of red curls fanning out around her face, the light from the lamp turning her creamy skin caramel and making her eyes sparkle. “I know.”
As his hand slid between her thighs there was a knock at the bedroom door.
“Amber, I’ve just had a really horri
ble dream about your dad,” called Joyce.
“Just wait there,” Amber called back, pushing Mikey off her. “I’m coming.”
“Or not,” sighed Mikey.
“Sssh, she’ll hear you,” whispered Amber, sliding her nightgown back down. She jumped out of bed and pulled on her robe then bent over to give him a quick peck on the lips. “I’ll get her settled with some hot chocolate then we can pick up where we left off.”
When she’d gone Mikey stripped off and clambered into bed, horny and expectantly awaiting his wife’s return.
By the time she came back two hours later he was fast asleep.
Joel Starklaw was seriously fucked off. Mikey and Jez had done him and his little brother over good and proper with the help of the fucking traitor Dane Black who, it turned out, was in bed with the Maguires. He’d kept that bloody quiet. The beating he’d been given had made him furious, he’d not ordered any attack on Jez. Why would he? Ollie had sworn he hadn’t done it. He might be a little scrote but Joel could always tell when he was lying and he’d been telling the God’s honest truth in that nightclub. So, if it hadn’t been Ollie then who had attacked Jez? None of his men, he was certain of that. That meant it was someone who wanted to set him up and it had worked. Only problem was he couldn’t figure out who was responsible. Thanks to Ollie’s antics they’d pissed off a lot of people, so the suspect list was huge. Now he was stuck in a hospital bed with sod all to do all day except look at the nurses, who were a bit fucking butch.
“Who the frig are you?” he scowled when a big man with blond hair sat down next to his bed.
“Take it easy, I’m here as a friend.”
“Piss off you cockney wanker.”
“I’m not a cockney, I’m from Essex actually.”
Joel could spot a gangster when he saw one and this man screamed dodgy. “You’ve strayed a bit far from home,” said Joel, injecting menace into his tone.
“I’ve come all this way to see you so shut up and listen or I might have to upgrade you to Intensive Care.” His dark brown eyes were as hard as flint.
“Get on with it then, I haven’t got all day.”
The man smiled. “I like your nerve. If you’d shut it for a fucking second I might be able to get down to business.”
Hunted Page 8
