Huntress

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by Amanda Radley

Kerry bit her lip. She wanted to be honest, wanted to show that she could be trusted. But the truth was, she didn’t know if Claudia could be trusted. She couldn’t put Amy in harm’s way. “Just... away. We were looking for someone to help with the USB stick, but we didn’t know where to go. We were just so scared about being caught.”

  Claudia didn’t look like she bought it. She opened her mouth to speak but quickly closed it again as she looked behind Kerry.

  Kerry peered over her shoulder. A local police officer was rushing towards them.

  “Take her to the station. I’ll be back in touch later,” Claudia instructed him.

  Kerry felt cold metal touch her wrist and looked down in surprise at the handcuff being clicked into place. She glanced up again, but Claudia was already rushing further into the services, searching for her prey.

  29

  So Close

  Claudia exited the women’s toilet area and marched towards the first shop in the services centre. She’d already mentally calculated a plan to search the building in the most efficient order. The key was to be swift but thorough, sweep every part of the building in as little time as possible. Amy could well be unaware of what had happened and simply be going about her business.

  Claudia knew she needed to capitalise on that if it were the case. However, she knew it probably wasn’t. Too much time had elapsed, and the local police arriving would surely have tipped her off. It was most likely that there were only two options left. She was either hiding out in the services, or she had left and was making a getaway on foot.

  She tapped at her earpiece to contact Mark. Every second not moving in the right direction was now a second wasted, and she needed immediate support to make the right decisions.

  “I’m still searching for that CCTV. It’s an old system, so it may not be accessible online,” Mark replied.

  “Fine,” Claudia growled. “Then I need a map of the surrounding area. I’m assuming she is on foot and hasn’t braved the car park and isn’t trying to hitchhike.”

  “I’m on it now,” Mark replied. “Also, MI5 are on their way.”

  Claudia knew that investigators would dispatch the ground teams as soon as they heard of Kerry’s capture. She also knew that the flat-footed oafs would just make a huge mess of the whole thing. MI5’s way was loud, brash, and heavy-handed. They’d no doubt swarm the surrounding areas with armed personnel. In Claudia’s experience, that was no way to capture anyone. Methodical, thoughtful, and considerate was the best way to seek and capture. Especially if you were seeking terrorists who were known to quickly go to ground at the first sign of trouble.

  She couldn’t shake off Kerry’s words. Of course, it wasn’t the first time that someone had desperately tried to convince her of their innocence. No one ever held their hands up and told her they’d done it all. Everyone had reasons. Excuses. But the passion of Kerry’s denial, accompanied with her own doubts, flew in the face of the intelligence that MI5 had provided her. It wouldn’t be the first time that MI5 had been wrong, but it would be a substantial blow to their reputation to be wrong by this magnitude.

  “There’s one hotel on-site,” Mark said. “The petrol station is a little way from the main services building; it contains a small shop which has bathrooms. To the south is the motorway, to the east are fields, to the north and west is a canal. There are moorings for narrowboats just beside the back of the services.”

  Claudia moved on to the last shop inside the main building, already calculating the most efficient route to check the outer buildings before making her way to the canal.

  “Thank you, Mark. I need to know if Kerry Wyatt says anything. Something is off about this case.”

  “Like what?”

  “I’m not sure, I’m not one to usually take notice of a plea of innocence, but there was something about Kerry...” Claudia shook her head, not wanting to bring any further doubt into her mind. She needed cold, hard facts. “Just see what you can find out.”

  “I’m on it.” He disconnected the call.

  Claudia exited the main building and took a slow and careful look around the car park. There were a number of people who believed in hiding in plain sight. She had to admit, it was a brilliant tactic. Trying to blend into a crowd or just standing still and not bringing attention to yourself was a fantastic way of remaining undetected. Though she suspected that Amy was a little too manic for such tactics.

  “H-hello?”

  She looked down at the walkie-talkie that had crackled into life. She unhooked the device from her belt and held it to her mouth. “Amy?”

  “Kerry is innocent,” Amy said, through the static.

  Claudia started to walk around the car park, trying to ascertain a direction where the connection would be stronger. It seemed that the device was nearing the edge of its range. Finding a stronger signal would help her pinpoint a direction of travel.

  “Amy, you need give yourself up.”

  “No, I just need you to know that Kerry hasn’t done anything wrong.” The voice crackled weakly.

  “Amy, it’s over.” Claudia headed in the opposite direction, not caring how ridiculous she must have looked to passers-by. “Tell me where you are and I’ll come to you. I promise you that everything’s going to be okay.”

  There was a pause. Claudia bit her lip and waited. She needed Amy to speak again, to get a direction.

  “I-I can’t trust you. Or anyone.”

  Claudia cupped her elbow in her hand and rested the device on her forehead as she thought about her next words. “Why can’t you trust anyone?”

  “I’ve been framed.”

  “I can help you,” Claudia said. The voice was starting to clear. She continued walking around the services and came to the hotel building. Amy was either inside the hotel, or she had taken the side path through to the canal.

  “Just make sure that Kerry is okay.”

  Claudia thought for a moment. “I will. But you’re the one who says you can’t trust me.” She hoped the slightly confrontational comment would encourage more conversation. Partly to find a direction on Amy’s location and partly because she was curious. She’d never had such a conversation with a suspect before.

  “Promise me that Kerry will be okay. I’ll believe you then.”

  Claudia chuckled. The naivety was almost cute. “I promise,” she said. “She is in custody with the local police. The task force will be too busy looking for you to take her out of the local station.”

  “They won’t find me, I’m getting quite good at this.”

  Claudia laughed outright. “Yes, yes, you are,” she admitted. “But that won’t last forever. Come on, Amy. You must be tired? Cold? Hungry?”

  “I’ll figure it out.” Amy sounded determined but uncertain. “Are Michael and David in trouble?”

  Claudia frowned. “Who?”

  “The gay guys back in Edinburgh. Are they in trouble for harbouring fugitives?”

  “No, they weren’t aware of your status.”

  “We told them we were on the run,” Amy explained. “But we told them we’d been set up. Because we have.”

  Claudia shook her head in disbelief. Amy really didn’t know when to stop talking for her own good. “Well, still, they didn’t know your actual status.”

  “Which is?” Amy questioned.

  “Wanted on terrorist charges.”

  “I’m not a terrorist,” Amy denied quickly. “I don’t know what it is about me that makes you think I am. Is it the hair? I do try to control it, but seriously, in this country, with this wind? No chance.”

  Claudia couldn’t help but smile. She could see how Amy had managed to charm her way up and down the country. “Yes, it’s the hair,” she played along. “Maybe some hairspray?”

  “Nah, I don’t control my hair. It kind of has a timeshare agreement with my head. It just lives there.”

  “Amy... you can trust me. Please, tell me where you are?”

  Claudia waited. And waited. She bit her lip and
leaned in close to the walkie-talkie.

  “Bye, Claudia,” Amy whispered.

  30

  All Aboard

  Amy turned the walkie-talkie off and clipped it onto her belt. She turned around to check if she was being followed, relieved to see that the canal path behind her was empty. She turned back and wiped at the tears which lay on her cheeks before shoving her hands back into her coat pockets.

  She’d let Kerry down. When she’d walked around the corner and seen Claudia standing behind Kerry, she’d frozen. There was nothing she could have done, but still she felt guilt streaming through her. Kerry had been arrested. She was probably on her way to a cold prison cell somewhere, and it was simply because she knew Amy. Because Amy had made a stupid decision to run rather than to stop and seek help.

  Although Amy was pretty certain that her decision was still the right one, if only because she had no idea who to trust. Clearly they had been set up. By whom and to what extent, she didn’t know. And without that information she’d decided to Mulder it and trust no one.

  She’d watched from behind a pillar as Claudia spoke with Kerry. She could see the terror in Kerry’s eyes but was relieved to see Claudia was being calm and collected. She’d even taken the time to talk to Alice. Amy didn’t want anyone to get caught, but if they had to be, then she had to admit that she was thankful that it was Claudia doing the catching.

  But now she was alone, and her bravery had suddenly left her. Kerry was her best friend, and Amy always felt like she could do anything if Kerry was with her. Alone, she felt useless and silly. She had no idea how she was going to get to Aberdeen. A difficult journey had grown utterly impossible.

  “Is everything okay, dear?”

  She looked up to see a woman in her seventies. She was standing on the canal path with a small watering can, having been watering the plants that hung on the side of a narrowboat. The woman looked at her in concern. “Has something happened?”

  Amy let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, kinda.”

  “Well, you tell me all about it. I’ll see what I can do to help.”

  Amy took a deep breath. She wasn’t in the mood to come up with a reasonable lie. Everything felt like it was crashing down around her ears.

  “I’m on the run from the police. I was with my friend, but my friend was just caught and now I’m on my own and I don’t know what to do.”

  The woman walked towards her and looked sympathetic. “Well, why don’t you come on board and have a cup of tea? I’m sure we can figure it out together.”

  Amy looked at the friendly face and slowly nodded. This had been her experience the whole time; everyone was so kind and helpful. She was pretty sure she could say she murdered someone, and people would offer her a digestive and a shoulder to cry on.

  “You might get in trouble for harbouring a fugitive, though.” She felt it best to warn her.

  The woman laughed. “Well, let’s see them try. I’m Lesley, by the way.”

  “Amy.”

  “Come on board, Amy, you should meet my husband.”

  Amy wiped at the tears on her face before nodding again. Lesley climbed on board the prow of the narrowboat and walked down a few steps into the galley. “Fred? I have a visitor. Put the kettle on.”

  Amy followed her down more steps and into the living quarters of the boat. She’d never been in a narrowboat before and was surprised to see it resembled her nan’s bungalow. At the bottom of the steps was a proper sitting room, with two small sofas and an armchair, all in a floral pattern. Separating the sitting room from the dining area was a display cabinet filled with glassware and ornaments. Beyond the dining area she could see a tiny kitchen and a corridor off that that must have led to a bedroom. She looked around with a smile. It was a little house on the water. Everything was miniature, but there was everything you could ever need.

  “This is so cute,” she said. “And beautiful,” she added, not wanting to offend her hosts.

  “Thank you,” Lesley said. “It’s small, but it suits us, doesn’t it, Fred?”

  Fred walked into the living room, drying his hands on a tea towel. “It certainly does.” He smiled at her and held out his hand. “Fred, lovely to meet you.”

  Fred looked to be a similar age to Lesley. He had glasses and thin, greying hair. He looked like a typical grandfather, and she instantly felt comforted. She shook his hand. “Amy.”

  “Would you like some tea, Amy?” he offered.

  “Yes, she’s lost her friend, and she’s running away from the police,” Lesley told him.

  Amy held her breath and watched Fred’s wrinkled face. She waited for an argument to begin about harbouring fugitives. She was surprised when he laughed. “I’ll get the biscuits as well, then.”

  Amy held the mug in a two-handed grip, appreciating the warmth of her second cup of tea. Lesley and Fred were telling her about their children and grandchildren. Their daughter lived at one end of the country, and their son at the other. Not wanting to play favourites, they bought the narrowboat upon retirement. They’d spend a few weeks moored near one child, before heading off to see the other. They repeated the procedure several times a year, using the travel time between the two as some much-needed respite.

  She’d told them about her run-in with the police, about the USB stick, about Cara, and about Claudia. Fred had immediately agreed that she had been set up. He said he’d seen a television program about MI5 and had decided the whole lot of them were useless. He said that it was a miracle that the country hadn’t been bombed to oblivion by the “bad guys”, as he called them. Amy didn’t have the heart to tell him that he’d been watching a drama and not a documentary.

  Lesley was about ready to phone the Prime Minster and tell them, in no uncertain terms, that Amy was innocent and that the whole saga was ridiculous. It was only Fred reminding her that Amy was being set up that had stopped her from pacing.

  An hour had passed since she had been invited on board, and she was starting to calm down and formulate a plan. She wondered if it was essential to her British DNA to have a cup of tea to instil a sense of calm within her. Or maybe it was the biscuits. She’d eaten a hell of a lot of biscuits.

  It was obvious to Amy that she needed to get to Aberdeen, to speak to Jason, and to prove both her and Kerry’s innocence. Kerry wouldn’t tell anyone her plan, so she felt fairly confident that no one would know where she was headed. She just needed to think about the best way to get out of the area and on her way to Aberdeen. Lesley was already looking at a map of canal paths and seeing how long it would take them to get there.

  Amy was usually more cautious about telling people her destination, but losing Kerry had changed that. She wasn’t even sure where she was, so finding Aberdeen was going to be impossible without help.

  The problem was that narrowboats travelled at a similar pace to the average person walking. And canals didn’t go in straight lines. It would take many days to get anywhere near to Aberdeen via the canals. Not to mention that canals didn’t criss-cross the country like motorways and railway lines. Sometimes they stopped, and you had to travel via another mode of transportation to get to the next canal.

  A knock on the door sounded.

  This is it, Amy thought. Her heart started to race. She lowered herself down onto the sofa as Fred got up and open the door.

  Amy held her breath. She wondered if it would all end on a floral sofa, on a narrowboat, feeling sick because she’d eaten too many ginger nut biscuits.

  “Hello, Fred,” a friendly female voice said. “I just wanted to let you know that some woman is asking all of the boat owners if we’ve seen that young girl that you took in a while ago. Of course, I didn’t say anything to her. Not my place. But she’s on George’s boat at the moment, and then she’ll be coming here. Just thought you should know.”

  “Right, thank you, Margaret. We better get moving.”

  Lesley stood up. “I’ll untie us, you start the engine.”

  “Will do,” Fred
quickly headed towards the back of the boat. Amy watched him in confusion. She sat up and looked at Lesley. “What are you doing?”

  “Performing the slowest high-speed getaway on record,” Lesley explained. “We’re not beaten yet.”

  31

  The Slowest Getaway Ever

  Claudia knocked on the window of the narrowboat. Why anyone would choose to live on a narrowboat was beyond her. No one had a front door or a doorbell or a letterbox. She wondered how people had post delivered.

  “Yes?” A man in his eighties walked through the hatch at the front of the boat. Claudia walked along the canal path to meet him.

  “I’m looking for someone, Amy Hewitt.” Claudia held up a poster with a selection of photos of Amy on it. “Have you seen her?”

  As she approached him, he snatched the piece of paper out of her hand and raised his glasses to look at the image. “Hmm,” he sighed.

  Claudia noticed the woman she had previously spoken to, Margaret Chapel, was now walking along the canal path. Claudia looked at her curiously. Margaret smiled, and Claudia smiled in return. Something was up.

  “Why are you looking for her? She in trouble?”

  Claudia returned her attention to him. “Yes, she is, Mr?”

  “Perry. George Perry.”

  “Mr Perry. My name is Claudia McAllister, and I am working with MI5 to track down that woman. Have you seen her?”

  George returned his attention to the paper. Scrunching up his face as he peered at the picture. Claudia rolled her eyes and returned her attention to Margaret Chapel who was boarding the narrowboat in front of them.

  When she was questioning Margaret, a loud yapping sound had come from within her narrowboat home. Margaret had invited Claudia aboard to continue their conversation, while she attended to her dog, Mrs Boo. Mrs Boo was an awful, yapping terrier who was clearly doted upon. The loud barking was deafening, but it gave Claudia the chance to scope out the narrowboat and ascertain that Amy was not hiding on board. She’d already been allowed to board and search two other narrowboats, which were occupied by holidaymakers. She knew she was close.

 

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