Redemption: Triple R Security, Book 3

by Imogen Wells

  Kuffs is chained up opposite me, head thrown back as a man cuts a path down his left side with the tip of a bowie knife. Blood immediately seeps from the slice in Kuffs’ skin. It’s not deep enough to kill him, but I know it hurts like a bitch.

  When the man reaches Kuffs’ hip bone, he lifts the knife away and watches as a drop of blood glides all the way down the blade to the handle. A cruel, yet satisfied smirk curls his lips before he begins his questions again…

  * * *

  The sound of knocking reaches me, startling me awake. The duvet sticks to my sweat soaked chest as I sit up, and my clammy hands are balled into tight fists, knuckles white, as they grip the sheet.

  As the last vestiges of my dream begin to fade, I realise the knocking sounds like someone, a small someone, dragging a suitcase down the stairs and clonking as it hits each step.

  The clonking stops as he must reach the last step, and I hear him calling out for my mum as the sound of fast little feet thud down the hall.

  I loosen my grip on the sheet, throwing the duvet to the side and sitting on the edge of the bed. A shiver runs through me, and I’m not sure if it’s the cool air of the room on my heated skin or from the dream; one I haven’t had for nigh on two years. Whatever it is, it has me on edge.

  Pushing to my feet, I try to shake the unsettled feeling away as I take a shower and pack the last few things for our trip.

  We arrive at the campsite around lunch time having stopped at my own house and the supermarket to stock up on the way. We pull into our spot, and it’s the same one we used the last time we were here, which was almost two years ago now. The view from here is one of the best on the site and looks out across open fields with the nature reserve off to the right, along with a small copse of woods that backs onto Kings Dyke Cabins.

  Despite the chill in the air, there are plenty of people out enjoying the crisp, clean air either with their dog, or kids, or exercising. There are only a handful of other motorhomes and caravans here as it’s not quite half-term yet, but I’m sure come the weekend this place will be packed.

  We used to come here when I was a kid, and it’s one of the reasons why Sam and I decided to move here, away from the rat-race. After leaving the army and losing Sam, I was glad of the peace and quiet and being closer to my parents who have a house not far from me.

  As soon as the engine is switched off, Max has his seatbelt undone and is desperate to get out of the car.

  “Dad, Dad, can we go to the park. They have a zip-wire. Can you push me, Dad?”

  His excitement and smiling face, brings a smile to my own. “Sure, we can, just as soon as we’re done setting up.” His face drops a little at having to wait. “But we do need to go and see if Hetty is available.”

  Max frowns, tilting his head to the side as he attempts to work out who Hetty is. “Who’s Hetty?”

  “Hetty is going to give us something nice for breakfast every morning. She’s at the farm just over there,” I say, pointing to the left of where we are parked. Max still looks a little confused, and I let out a laugh. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

  We climb from the car just as my parents do the same. Max runs round to my side of the car before running to my mum.

  “Grandma, who is Hetty?” he asks as he reaches her. Mum looks to me, and I give a nod of my head letting her know that I already checked she’s still here.

  “I think you should go with your dad and find out while Gramps and I set up ready for when you get back.” She smiles, patting him on the head. Max looks between the two of us with a look of intrigue and slight confusion on his face.

  He runs back to me, grabbing my hand and pulling me forward. “Come on, Dad, let’s go. I want to meet this Hetty, whoever she is.” I allow him to drag me forward down the dusty path that leads to the farmhouse I pointed out earlier. “Will I like her, Dad?” Before I get a chance to reply, he yanks on my arm, and I look down at him. “Does she have sweets, or ice cream. Maybe she has hot chocolate.” I chuckle as his voice trails off as he runs ahead going through all the things he loves.

  It’s still dark outside when I wake the next morning, and Max is fast asleep beside me, sprawled out like a starfish and taking up most of the bed. Sliding from the bed, I grab my phone, and slip quietly out to the kitchen. I make a cup of coffee, not my usual kind, but it will do the job just the same. I throw on my coat from the hook near the door and slip my boots on before stepping outside.

  Mum and Dad set up the small fold up table and chairs outside last night, and I take a seat as the sun begins to rise in the distance, casting a beautiful red hue over the dew-covered fields this morning. I sip my coffee, grimacing slightly at the bitter taste, and open my phone. There are messages from Seb and Ryder about coming for the weekend, and several emails. Skipping the messages, I open my emails. A couple are possible new jobs that I’ll need to have a look over at some point, but the last one catches my eye.

  Once it opens, there’s nothing other than a link. No introduction or explanation on what it’s about or who it’s from. The email address is not disclosed, and no doubt the sender used a VPN.

  Given the number of scams via text and email lately, I’m hesitant to click the link, even though my phone has the latest anti-hacker software and virus protection. Before I can click it, the door to the caravan opens, and my dad steps out.

  I drink my coffee as I chat to him and reply to my messages when he goes inside to make a start on breakfast.

  I’m not surprised when Ryder replies instantly. I guess Jamison is awake. After chatting back and forth with Ryder for a while, I then check out events in the area over the next couple of days. There are several we can attend that Max will enjoy.

  Once Max is awake, we go and check on Hetty. Although Hetty the hen wasn’t exactly what he was expecting, when I explained that she and a couple of others would be ours to look after for the week and he can collect eggs every morning for breakfast, he was more than happy.

  Following breakfast, Max and I head off for a walk round the nature reserve.

  I picked up a leaflet of the trails at the farmhouse yesterday, and we take the Little Ranger’s trail where Max can find and collect a selection of rubbings from different trees along the trail. If he manages to collect all of them, he’ll get a prize.

  Max collected them all and was over the moon when he received his bug collecting kit from Val at the farm. I was surprised, although I shouldn’t have been given the amount of time he spends with my dad, that Max knew almost half the trees we had to find.

  He then spent the rest of the afternoon off with my dad going round the site looking for as many bugs as he could find from the pocketbook he was also given.

  I tried to keep my mind off work, but the email from this morning has been niggling the back of mind all day.

  With Max in bed and my parents retiring for the night too, I decide to go over the new jobs that came in this morning. There’s nothing big or urgent, so I send details to Scott for a small security job at a hotel in London, and another to Jay working with the local police on an investigation of an escort agency.

  I open the same email from this morning, and this time I don’t hesitate to click the link. I get an instant ripple of trepidation down my spine as I wait for it to load, and I check the volume is down.

  Once it does, the footage is a little grainy, and there’s very little light, but it doesn’t take me more than a second to recognise what I’m looking at.

  On the screen, I watch as a man steps towards someone hung up like Jesus on his cross. Blood trickles down his torso, and my stomach turns over at what I know comes next.

  I know because the man hung up there is me from five years ago.

  Nine

  Jess

  After sleeping, well, more like tossing and turning, on what my father said yesterday, I’ve spent most of the morning searching for a good, affordable solicitor. I might not be able to shirk my responsibilities, but I sure as hell don’t need help from my
father.

  I wasn’t lying to my father when I told him I put my flat on the market. In fact, I have no intention of returning to London unless absolutely necessary. After I instructed Hodgeson & Co solicitors to act on my behalf in Tobias’ ridiculous professional negligence case against me, I immediately began searching for a property here to either rent short-term or buy.

  I’m lucky that I’m not dependent on my father’s money, and I certainly don’t need to throw his name around to get ahead in life either.

  “What’s this?” comes Eleanor’s voice behind me. I close my eyes and release a small sigh at being caught checking properties out.

  I turn my head to see her standing behind me. “I’m just weighing up my options, that’s all.” She raises a disbelieving brow.

  “Jess, you know you can stay here as long as you need, right?”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “And if you need to talk—”

  Resigned to the fact I’ll have to tell her at some point, I pat the seat beside me. She taps the back of my chair a couple of times before cautiously coming round to sit next to me.

  “What’s going on, Jess? Your mother has called several times asking if you’re here.”

  “You haven’t told her, have you?”

  Eleanor drops her head slightly, taking a deep breath before lifting her eyes back to me. “No, I haven’t told her. But I have to say, I’m not comfortable lying to her, Jess.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry for putting you in that position. I just need time to sort out what I’m going to do next.” I put the laptop on the coffee table before sitting back in my chair and tucking my feet beneath me. “I’m being sued by Lottie’s dad for professional negligence, and I have no doubt he’ll follow through with his other threat of ruining me in this business. Suing me is just the start, Eleanor.”

  “Hmmm. Well, I never did like the man. And whilst I can wholly appreciate how painful losing his daughter is, I don’t understand how he has a case against you considering you were taken too.”

  “Believe me, I wish it were that simple. Unfortunately, he has a solid case because I failed to carry out my duty, and now his daughter is dead.” The last part comes out a little wobbly as emotion bleeds into my words. Giving a cough to clear my throat, I continue, “I’ve instructed a solicitor, and, no, I’m not using my father’s. I know he and Mum are your friends, but you also know that I’m not my brother, Eleanor. Things have never been the same since… Anyway, I’m not planning to go back to London, so I need to find somewhere to live and a new career.”

  “Your mum might be my friend, Jess, but I’ve never hidden my dislike for Archie. Anyway,” she says waving a hand and brushing aside any questions I might have about why that is. “We love having you here, but all I ask is that you let Gigi know where you are and that you’re safe. Okay?”

  “Yes, of course, I understand. I’ll call her later.” Eleanor rises from her seat, but before she can move away, I lay my hand on her arm. When she looks at me, I say, “Thank you.” She nods, a warm smile lighting up her face before she turns and heads out the back door. I blink back the tears that threatened to fall and pick up my laptop and go back to my property search.

  Despite Eleanor’s insistence that I can stay here, I manage to find a couple of rentals just down the road that look promising and arranged viewings for this afternoon.

  The first place was nice enough, but the neighbour on the left gave me the creeps. The one on the right consisted of a family, which isn’t normally an issue for me, but when two of the kids are teens with fags hanging from their mouths and litter scattered across the front lawn, it’s not exactly welcoming. There was even a burnt patch of grass out the front and what appeared to be a throwaway BBQ.

  I pull up to the second place slightly deflated and not very hopeful. The estate agent is there waiting, and I can already see that the single neighbour is an old lady. She is currently weeding her immaculately kept front garden, and the sight eases some of my apprehension and gives me a good feeling about the place.

  Sarah, the agent, meets me as I step from my car.

  “Ms Fisher. Good afternoon,” she says, offering me her hand. I take it and give a small nod. “Shall we?”

  “Please. Lead the way,” I tell her, waving my hand toward the quaint little bungalow. She steps ahead of me down the path, keys jangling in her hand as she walks.

  The outside is reasonably well kept with a small driveway and stone path leading to the front door. There are a couple of fake globe shaped trees in pots beside the door, and the wall to the left has a large trellis with wisteria growing up it that trails round the side of the bungalow.

  Sarah makes small talk, asking where I’m from, what I do for work, and I give her simple answers that don’t invite further questions.

  We step inside, and although the property is empty, I get a homely feeling. It’s neutrally decorated throughout, as is usual with rentals, and offers a small, fully equipped kitchen that leads to a medium sized lounge and looks out to a small patio area and a recently mown lawn. There’s a short corridor that leads to a decent sized bathroom and two bedrooms. One is a good-sized double, and the other is more of a box room.

  After a good look around, I spend some time going over the details with Sarah, but overall, I’m getting a good vibe from the place.

  I wish Sarah a good weekend with a promise to call her in a day or two. I’m never one to make an on the spot decision—having learnt my lesson after saying yes to a marriage proposal without much thought, other than how pissed off my father would be. Suffice to say, there was no happy ever after, and I was filing for divorce less than two years later.

  A shudder runs through me at the reminder of my stupidity and an ex-husband who I’m still forced to mingle with on occasion, thanks to our parents being acquaintances. A term my father uses for anyone he knows that isn’t family. Archie Collins is not a man that has friends. I’ve still never figured out what my mother sees in him.

  When I arrive back at the cabins, Harry and Eleanor are waiting outside the main house. Unsure of the composed looks on both theirs faces, I switch the engine off and climb hesitantly from the car. As I approach, I try to gain some inkling as to what is going on, but all I get is a small twitch of a smile from Eleanor when I catch her eye.

  “What’s the matter? Did something happen?” bursts from me as soon as I’m standing in front of them.

  Eleanor steps forward, grasping my hand. “Everything is fine, Jess. Come on, we have something we want to show you.” And with that, she releases my hand as they both begin walking off down the path to the copse.

  I jog a couple of steps to catch up to them, but neither breaks the silence with any sort of explanation as we walk.

  When we reach the tree line to the copse, I can’t stay quiet another second as anxiety licks at my skin. “Can one of you please put me out of my misery. What’s going on? Where are we going?” I hear a chuckle from Harry at my dramatic questioning, but still nothing as they step into the trees. Swallowing down my fear, I follow after them again.

  We take a path I’ve not been down before, even during all the times I came here as a kid. To be honest, it looks newly carved into the trees and would explain why I’ve never seen it before.

  Before I can ask about it, the path opens into a small clearing, and there in the centre, is a small cabin. My eyes widen as I take it in, from the wraparound porch to the slanted roof and the small balcony on the second floor, down to the sandy path leading to and around the cabin and surrounded by wildflowers that will be beautiful once they bloom.

  I take a few steps down the path towards it before stopping and turning back to Harry and Eleanor. “What is this place?”

  The pair of them are wearing beaming smiles, and I can’t help but allow a smile to spread across my face too.

  “Just a little something we’ve been working on,” he says, dangling a set of keys out to me. I frown but take the keys all the same. “Go an
d have a look around. We’ll be here when you’re done.”

  I look between them, still unclear of exactly what all this, but I turn back to the cabin and step up to the door.

  As I push the door open, the smell of cedar, pine and smoke invades my nostrils, and I breathe it in deeply. It’s a smell that brings forth memories of my parents and my brother. Times when, things were simpler, easier and a hell of a lot happier.

  The centre of the room is occupied by a large wood cook stove and explains the smoky smell as it burns low. Stepping further in, the right houses a compact kitchen with a Belfast sink set into a walnut worktop, and to the left, part of the far wall is banked with shelving stacked with books along with a comfy armchair, a throw haphazardly tossed over the back, and a two-seater sofa, both in soft, dark leather. The floor is a beautiful walnut with several smaller rugs scattered around, and as I look around more, I spot a wooden ladder in the corner of the living room area that leads to a mezzanine floor.

  As my head peaks over the top, my mouth drops open in amazement. A large circular bed takes up most of the floor space with a half wardrobe on each side. Finally making my feet move again, I climb the rest of the way, spotting a small screened off area that contains a toilet, basin and a roll top bath.

  After having a thorough look around and discovering a shower room and toilet downstairs, I step back outside to find Harry and Eleanor sitting on the steps to the porch.

  “Hey,” I say, halting their hushed conversation as they both turn to me “This place is amazing, but I don’t understand. Are you planning on building more of these?” I take a seat next to Eleanor on the top step.

  “We are, yes, as a more luxurious rental.” She lowers her head for a second as though she’s considering her next words. Looking back up, she says, “How were the properties you went to view today?”

  The change in subject throws me for a minute and then my mind makes the connection. Schooling my features just in case I’m wrong, I say, “The first was a definite no go, but the second was really lovely and perfect for my needs. Why?”