‘Sometimes we don’t know the people we work with, Ben, all any of us can do is give people the benefit of the doubt, believe that they are nice. The alternative would have us all end up in the loony bin. You know if you ever need to talk you can ring me, you have my number, right? And if it’s upsetting you that much, it might be worth ringing Occ Health and having a word with one of the counsellors. It’s not wrong to need to talk about something like this. You’re definitely not the only one struggling with the revelation.’
She nodded slowly. ‘Thank you, Cass, yes I have your number. And I ‘ll give Occ Health a ring. Thanks again.’
Alex waited until he heard the entrance door to the front office click, before saying, ‘It makes me sad to think of all the people in the nick who won’t talk about this, all the people this will affect. Frank was practically part of the furniture here. The fall out will be huge. Not to mention what’ll happen when the press get hold of it. And that won’t be long – these things don’t stay under wraps for long.’
Chapter Forty-Three
Cass’s Cottage – 7 November
There was already frost on the ground. The stars blinked in the night sky, the moon was in its last phase, yet it still shone brightly.
Frank watched from the tree line to the south of the cottage. He knew Cass’s mum had returned the precious dog and that Cass had a tendency to walk him in the woods in the dark. He knew Alex was at work, in fact he had made sure he would be. The murder in the town was quick and easy to complete. A single stab wound, strategically placed to the left of the female’s chest. One day women would learn not to walk the streets after dark. She’d just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time.
He’d returned to the cottage just in time to see Cass’s mother drive off with her husband in their posh Jaguar, the engine purring as the alloy wheels sent a little gravel flying as he hit the accelerator.
He smiled in the moonlight as he felt the surge of adrenaline flood through his veins. He hoped they would be sticking around. It could only serve to add to his pleasure to know he had caused the devastation of them losing their child.
Frank’s anger was getting harder to control. He felt the burn, the need to kill something more now than ever. But deep down inside he knew that killing Cass would be the one that would finally give him back the feeling of ultimate control, that same feeling he’d had as he’d watched the life slip from his own mother as he had held his hand over her mouth, silencing her ‘good boy’ comments forever. He still counted Susan as his first human kill; his mother didn’t count. She’d had cancer, had begged for him to be a good boy and help her get through it, help her get back to the church she’d so cherished. And help her he had, though he was pretty sure it hadn’t been what she’d meant.
‘Bitch deserved to die,’ he muttered under his breath, the burst of steam almost causing him to take a step back. For a second, he’d forgot he was outside. Taking a deep calming breath, he let the memory continue.
He’d felt it start burning in his stomach as she pitifully struggled, his gloved hand not having to apply that much pressure. Weak from the treatment, she was already having breathing difficulties and had to wear an oxygen mask. Her eyes had widened in fear, staring at him, finally seeing him for the killer he was and not the good boy she’d always tried to force him to be. As he watched her life slip away, he had quietly said, ‘I saw what you did to dad. You made me who I am. You helped me realise who I wanted to be.’
He had watched a single tear fall from her eye, heard her whisper a quiet ‘No,’ with her last breath, and he had smiled as the last speck of life left her body.
Afterwards, he’d sat with her a while, revelling in the feelings. Mild horror, he had killed his own mother. Mild concern, how would he get away with it? And finally, satisfaction – complete satisfaction. This was the person he was born to be. And now he didn’t have to look after her any more, he was free to do as he pleased, when he pleased.
A sudden, faint noise brought him back to the present. He froze, his head cocked to the left as he listened. He heard further rustling, still quite far away. Eventually, he heard the faint sound of Cass singing softly.
Readying himself, he pulled the syringe from his pocket.
It was time.
Alex shivered as he opened the door. The temperature gauge on his dash showed -5 degrees Celsius. Winter was definitely here.
He frowned as he found the front door unlocked. Since Jameson, Cass had taken to locking it if she was in. He paused as goosebumps appeared all over his body and the small hairs on his neck stood to attention. Something didn’t feel right.
Silently he made his way to the living room. It was still and undisturbed, the lamp still turned on in the corner. He pushed the heavy door into the kitchen, half expecting to see Cass sat at the table with a coffee, but it was completely silent. He noticed the absence of Ollie’s leash on its hanger in the corner and breathed a sigh of relief. She had taken the dog for a walk.
His stomach was still turning somersaults as he headed upstairs to pull on some joggers and a jumper. He would walk along the route she usually took and meet her coming back. His gut was still screaming at him that something was wrong.
The bedroom was flooded with light as he pushed the door open, and his eyes focused on Ollie, asleep on the bed, his lead draped over him. Attached to his collar was a photo.
Alex felt fear claw into him, where was Cass? Striding to the bedside, he stroked Ollie’s soft fur. The dog was breathing deeply and didn’t stir. He reached for the photo and the blood drained from his face.
It showed Cass, unconscious, in the back of a car with tape across her mouth. On the back the untidy writing simply said, ‘You want her. I have her. Now find her.’
Alex felt his heart stop as utter terror threatened to overwhelm him. What the hell was going on? Who had Cass? Slowly realisation dawned, Frank. He had Cass. Why, he didn’t know, but he was certain he was right. He tried to gather his thoughts. Why was Frank focused on Cass? She had been the one to attend all three murders, could it really be that simple? Had Frank just watched the progress and become obsessed?
He almost groaned aloud as his mind made another connection – the death of Jameson. It had been entirely too convenient for him to die in the middle of three murder investigations with links to the lead CSM. Alex almost kicked himself. This was his fault. If he’d realised the links sooner, put it all together, he might have seen that Cass was in danger.
His mouth set in a grim line, he might not have noticed the links straight away, but he would find Cass. He pushed the fear to the back of his mind. He couldn’t allow his judgement to become clouded. Cass needed him.
Ollie groaned next to him, his feet scrabbling as he struggled to wake up. Carefully Alex lifted him into his arms, took him downstairs and placed him on the backseat of his car. Revving the engine, he tore out of the drive, leaving a trail of dust. Before he’d reached the A19, he’d phoned Ali and the Chief Super – the whole police force would be called in now. One of their own had been taken hostage, and if there was one thing the police did well, it was taking care of their own.
Ryhope Police Station – 7 November
‘What do you mean I’m not dealing with the case? This is my case. This is Cass for God’s sake.’
Alex’s voice was well above the level at which one should address a superior officer but having just been told to stand down he was understandably upset.
‘Which is precisely why you can’t be in charge, Alex. At your own admission, you love this woman. The fact she is in the hands of a serial killer has you worried sick. For that reason alone, I can’t have you in charge of the investigation. Never mind any evidence that came to light would be under the microscope because you have a personal relationship with her. Even if you look solely at the fact that you haven’t slept in practically thirty-six hours, you’re not capable of leading this investigation. That’s final. Now, I suggest you take the dog, and go home
. I assure you I will personally call you the second something develops. Eckley is an excellent DCI, Alex, you know that. He’s a trained negotiator with excellent skills. Let him lead. We will find Cass; I give you my word.’
The Chief Super’s words did nothing to appease him. That monster had had Cass for some time. There was no saying what he’d done to her so far.
‘Fine I’ll go, but I’m going to the hotel to tell Cass’s mum. Rose needs to know what’s happening. And I will be back in shortly, sir.’ His reply was curt and to the point and for a moment, the Chief looked mildly annoyed.
Finally, though, he nodded silently, and watched as Alex left the room with the dog in tow.
Ollie refused to leave Alex’s side. The dog knew something was wrong. He didn’t remember what happened, but Cass wasn’t with him and his new friend was upset.
When Alex arrived at the hotel, he parked the car quickly and stopped, taking in a few deep breaths. He was losing it. He felt like he was standing on the edge of a precipice and that one step would take him over. They say you don’t know what you have until it’s gone, but this wasn’t strictly true. Alex knew Cass was his, had known since that first confused glance. He might not have been ready to accept it until recently, but now he had, and his heart felt like it would break.
If he hurts her…
He felt his anger burn amid the worry.
If he touches her, I swear I’ll kill him.
Grabbing Ollie’s leash, he entered the hotel, flashed his warrant card at the receptionist and demanded to know what room Rose was staying in.
By the time the elevator dinged on the third floor, he’d managed to steady his breathing.
Moments later he was inside the room, sitting on the chair in the corner, with Ollie at his feet.
‘What are you doing here, Alex. What’s the matter?’
Tears welled up in Rose’s eyes, already knowing something was wrong.
‘It’s Cass.’ Alex paused, not quite knowing where to start.
Rose’s scream filled the room and she collapsed into Roger’s arms. Was Cass dead?
‘No. Rose, listen, you need to let me tell you what happened. Cass is alive, she’s alive.’ Alex had gone straight to her side, his hand on her arm, praying he was telling her the truth.
‘You … tell … me. Tell me what’s happened to my daughter,’ stuttered Rose, poking Alex in the arm.
He took a deep breath.
‘She’s been kidnapped. Did she tell you about the murders we’ve been having?’
Rose nodded, confused. ‘She calls me every time she’s called out in the middle of the night. So, I know where she is. There’s been a few hasn’t there?’
‘Yes. It was established that they were all by the same person, a person we work with called Frank Reynolds.’
‘Are you telling me someone Cass works with is a killer?’
‘Yes. We think he has Cass, we don’t know why yet, but Rose, we have every officer in the force looking for her. We will find her.’
‘Can I ask you something, Alex. If everyone is looking for her then what the hell are you doing here talking to me?’
Her anger surprised him a little. Almost in shame, he hung his head.
‘The boss took me off the case. I’m too close, Rose. Being in love with Cass means I don’t have a clear head with which to find her.’
‘I know you love her,’ whispered Rose, patting his arm a little. ‘But you’re the best officer they have. You should be working this case. You know Cass. You know this Reynold’s guy. You have to find her. Find my daughter, Alex, please, she’s my little girl.’
Emotion took over again, and Rose wept for a moment before pulling herself together.
‘OK, enough of these tears. Roger, up and dressed, Alex, give us five minutes and we will be coming back to the station with you. I’m not leaving that incident room until my daughter is found. And I’d like to see that Chief of yours try to stop me.’
Chapter Forty-Four
Ryhope Police Station – 7 November
Cass was confused. Her eyes were refusing to open, her head felt filled with cotton wool. For a moment she thought she’d woken with a cold. She fought against the thick blanket struggling to hold her under and forced her eyes to open.
As she did, she realised her hands were tied, heard the dull drone of machines working, and felt the cold and damp concrete underneath her left cheek. She tried to open her mouth to scream, but it was held closed by something.
Tape. It must be tape.
Her first instinct was to panic, but then her mind started working more clearly. She tried to struggle against the bonds holding her wrists and swallowed hard as she felt her breathing quicken in response to the surge of adrenaline.
Where the hell am I?
The fog dispelled further, and she tried to remember what had happened. She recalled hearing Ollie yelp and rushed to him as he fell over. She also remembered a sharp prick in her neck and had vague recollection of seeing shoes as her consciousness drifted away.
Where is Ollie?
She moved her head from side to side, searching the floor she could see for her dog. Suddenly she stiffened, sensing someone behind her. She heard the shuffle of his feet on the concrete as he walked around her and knelt on one knee. The light was dim, and she could barely make out his features. She tried to pull back as he came at her once more with a syringe, grunting against the tape and struggling against her bindings.
Cass yelped as the needle entered, this time to her upper arm. And as the darkness called her back as its own, she thought of one thing.
Alex.
Somehow, despite the stress, Alex had managed to fall asleep, the caffeine hit from the multiple cups of coffee rapidly wearing off. He was half curled on one of the chairs in the corner of the incident room. His mere presence had caused a heated argument between him and the Chief, but he’d stood his ground, backed by a very angry Rose who stood beside him.
The Chief had eventually caved and allowed them to stay in the incident room, on the proviso that they didn’t interfere with the investigation. It wasn’t normal procedure and if it had been anyone but Alex, the Chief wouldn’t have agreed.
The majority of the serving officers were now out doing enquiries and knocking on doors. The Chief had already spoken to the media and the revelation that there was a serial killer in their midst had been met with anger. Cass’s picture was spread over the morning editions of the newspapers and had featured on the local news.
Alex hadn’t intended to fall asleep, but he’d been awake for nearly two days straight. When he had finally dropped off, Rose had put Roger’s coat over his shoulders and left him where he was. She couldn’t settle though. She’d walked up and down the office so many times she’d practically worn a track in the carpet. She’d read the information on the white boards so often that the words were practically embedded in her head. The police ID photo of Reynolds fused into her mind. She was holding it together, but frankly she didn’t know how. That monster had her child; it didn’t matter how old they got, they were always your baby – and he had hers.
Rose knew if she got her hands on him, she ‘d kill him. Drawing in another shaky breath, she wandered to the kitchen to make yet more coffee. She’d always found it best to keep busy when under stress, and the officers that were manning the phones were appreciative.
She carried in the coffees, handing them out without speaking, and watched as Alex pulled himself from slumber.
‘Here you go, son,’ she said softly, handing over a steaming mug.
‘I fell asleep?’ he asked, shaking his head in disbelief.
‘You’re exhausted, Alex, it’s understandable. You’ve only had an hour or so, don’t worry. That Chief of yours came in but has gone again. Eckley went with him.’
Alex put his coffee on the nearby desk, feeling his frustration rise.
‘I need to reread the files on Reynolds. There must be something somewhere that gives me a cl
ue where he could be.’
Cass felt herself clawing her way back to consciousness once more. The room was silent but for the constant hum of the machines. It was still dark in there, the only light the glow from the machine displays.
Her shoulders ached from being pulled backwards, and she felt the grooves in her cheeks off the concrete floor. Quietly, she struggled with the bonds, trying to loosen them. Her wrists grew sore and she figured it was probably cable ties or something similar so struggling was futile. Instead she pushed herself over onto her back and tried to have a look around.
She froze as she spotted the inert form of a man, lying on top of a rug facing the opposite wall. She cocked her head to listen and nodded to herself as she heard him snoring softly.
Cass manoeuvred herself into a sitting position and shuffled to one of the machines. The edge was rough, and quickly she began moving her hands up and down, using the edge to try to cut the ties to her hands. She gasped as she slipped and felt the metal cut into her wrist, the sharp pain quickly turning to a stinging sensation as she determinedly carried on.
Suddenly the man grunted, turned over and opened his eyes, staring straight at her. Cass recognised him this time and watched as he registered what she’d been doing. He got to his feet slowly, walked over to her and grabbed her viciously by the hair, yanking her head backwards. Cass yelped at the sharp movement on her neck, and she breathed in and out quickly, trying not to panic. The truth be told she was petrified, but she couldn’t show him her fear. She’d read somewhere that killers fed on fear – it gave them the fix they needed. She’d be damned if she’d give him the satisfaction.
She braced herself as she watched him raise his fist and flinched as he punched the side of her face. Cass tasted the metallic tang of blood in her mouth, the burn of the impact on her cheek, and waited for the next one.
With Deadly Intent Page 24
