Avaline Saddlebags

by Netta Newbound

  “I didn’t decide, Layla. I’m Maxine—have always been Maxine. I’ve just decided to be true to myself, that’s all.”

  “That’s all?” He didn’t get what he’d put them through. That statement proved it.

  He nodded, closing his eyes again.

  “So what do you want from all of this?”

  “You already know. Let’s not do this.”

  “What do you want?” she said through gritted teeth, gripping the handle of the knife tightly.

  “To live my life as a woman. I just want to be accepted, is that so difficult for you to comprehend?”

  “Not anymore.” With precision and speed, she pulled the knife from behind her back and lopped off his penis. Amidst his blood-curdling cries, she threw the bloody slug-like thing and it splattered on to his chest.

  Forty-Five

  “Just call her one more time,” I urged Janine.

  “She isn’t going to answer, Dylan.”

  “Try, please.” I was desperate now. I killed the sirens as I approached Primrose Gardens. Turning left, I sped up the road and eyed the large detached houses with perfectly maintained front gardens. “I don’t want to alarm her,” I said, explaining my silent approach.

  “It doesn’t matter now, Dylan. Armed Response is already there, look.” She pointed to the commotion at the end of the road. Three police vans were parked at different angles, shielding the front of the property.

  Max’s house was the last on the row, and it had already been cordoned off, a perimeter created to keep members of the public safe. His neighbours had begun to congregate outside their own homes, craning their necks and gossiping. They were clearly itching to know what had interrupted their day.

  I slammed on my brakes behind one of the police vehicles, jumped out of the car, and rushed over. “Have you gone in yet?”

  “No,” one of the officers stepped forward and replied. “We were ordered to wait for Kerrigan.”

  Janine appeared on cue. “What do you have for me, Phil?” She was obviously familiar with this officer.

  “A dark-haired woman has been spotted inside the property, but that’s all we know so far. No sight of anyone else yet, but we did hear someone screaming and glass smashing when we first arrived.”

  “That’ll be Layla,” I added.

  “Is she really one of ours?”

  Janine nodded. “I’m afraid so. Inside the property is DS Layla Monahan. This is her partner, DI Dylan Monroe.”

  I nodded to him.

  “DS Philip Lyons.” He held his hand out. “I wish we were meeting under different circumstances.”

  “Yeah,” was all I could think of to say. The niceties could wait until later.

  “So, you think she’s responsible for the recent trannie murders?”

  “We think so,” Janine answered. “The evidence is stacked against her, and now this… she’s our killer I have no doubt in my mind.”

  “Damn,” Phil replied. “Let’s keep who she really is to ourselves for the minute if you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t want her harmed, do you hear me?” Janine interrupted.

  “We’ll do our best, Ma’am, but until we know what we’re dealing with, I won’t guarantee anything.”

  “I’m going up to the house,” I said.

  “No, you’re not.” Phil grabbed hold of my arm. “I’m running this operation, not you.”

  “She’s my partner.”

  “And she’s killed how many people already?”

  “Dylan, enough.” Janine was trying to diffuse the tension between us. “Stand down until you’re told otherwise and that’s an order.”

  “I might be able to get through to her.” The stakes had never been higher for me. “Please, let me try to call her again, she might answer this time.”

  “Go for it,” Lyons said. “But try to convince her to come out of her own free will.”

  Just then, I heard a scream coming from inside the house.

  I hit redial again. Voicemail. “Layla, please call me back. Nobody is going to hurt you. We just want to talk to you, I promise.”

  I ended the call just as there was another ear-splitting scream.

  “We have to get in there, Janine, before it’s too late.”

  “Wait,” she replied. “Leave Phil and his team to do their job.”

  I acted impulsively and rushed toward the house.

  “Monroe, get your arse back here, right now,” Lyons called out.

  “I can’t, I’m the only one who can stop her.”

  Another scream came from the house.

  “Dylan,” Janine called. “Be careful, for Christ’s sake.” She obviously knew I wouldn’t be dissuaded.

  As I reached the front door, Lyons yelled across at his team. They dropped to their knees, guns cocked and ready. “Cover him, but nobody fires until I give the order.”

  I banged on the front door. “Layla, let me in.” My heart was hammering inside my chest

  A few seconds later, I heard her from inside. “Go away, Dylan.”

  “Come on, we can talk about this before it goes any further.”

  “GO AWAY,” she roared.

  “I just want to talk. Open the door.”

  I could see her shadow behind the glass. “So they can shoot me? Forget it.”

  “Is Max okay? Just tell me that, please.”

  “Get out of here, Dylan. It’s too late.”

  “I care about you, Layla.”

  She laughed. “You only care about yourself.”

  “That’s not true,” I needed her to believe I was on her side. “Open the door and let me in. Just me.”

  I turned to look at Janine and Lyons. Both shook their heads.

  “They’ll shoot me if I open the door.”

  “No, they won’t. I swear.”

  “Tell them to back away and I’ll let you in.”

  I turned again and gestured for them to move back.

  “Stand down,” Lyons ordered. His face was flushed with anger.

  I’d broken protocol and knew I was going to get my arse well and truly kicked for this. “Let me in,” I said. “They won’t hurt you.”

  I heard her fiddling with the lock. “Promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  “I’m sorry, Dylan. It’s all such a mess.”

  “Let me in, and we can talk.”

  More rattling came from the lock, then the door opened just wide enough for me to slip through the gap.

  As soon as I was in, she locked it again.

  This wasn’t the Layla I knew. Her face was drawn and her eyes were wild with dark circles beneath. It was clear she was dangerously close to the edge.

  “Get in there,” she said, rushing me through the door. It was then I noticed the blood-covered knife in her other hand.

  I jumped away from her. “Layla, put the knife down.”

  “Get in there, I said.” She pointed down the hallway with the knife.

  I gasped. A thick trail of blood went from the stairs to the back of the house. “Oh, no! What have you done?” I rushed into the kitchen. Max was lying on the floor covered in blood. “What the hell have you done?” I dropped to my knees, checking for a pulse.

  “Leave him,” she sneered. “He deserves everything that’s coming to him.”

  He was out cold, but I could detect a faint pulse. He was bleeding profusely from a deep gash on his arm and his head, but it was the genital mutilation that concerned me the most. I needed to get him out of there and fast or he wasn’t going to make it.

  “I said, leave him!”

  I turned on her. “He’s the father of your kids. You can’t let him die.”

  “Father,” she bellowed, brandishing the knife. “Don’t make me laugh.”

  “Layla, listen to me. Max needs an ambulance, or he’s going to die. Do you understand?”

  “Of course I fucking understand. That’s the point. I want him to die. I can’t allow him to get my kids.” The Welsh lil
t in her voice was even more pronounced than normal.

  “Think about it, Layla. The judge will treat you more favourably if you show remorse and get him the help he needs before it’s too late.”

  “You can forget it. If he’s dead, he won’t get the kids. I can live with that.”

  “Who will look after them, Layla? Your mum won’t want them. She’s got her own life to live—you said that yourself. You’ll be inside. Do you really want your precious boys to be put into care?”

  She hesitated. Was I getting somewhere?

  “Let me call an ambulance. If you’re still not ready to hand yourself over, you can hold me hostage—just let him go. Okay?”

  She nodded. “They’re not coming in though. Help me get him out the back door.”

  Minutes later, we’d dropped Max onto the concrete beside the doorstep. His dismembered penis fell to the ground. Then Layla locked the kitchen door again.

  I pulled my phone from my pocket. “I’m calling for the ambulance, don’t panic.” I held my phone up in front of me until she nodded. Then I called Janine. “We need the paramedics here now. Max is in a bad way and he’s outside the back door. No funny business and no-one else will get hurt.” I hung up, not listening to Janine’s chatter, and slowly placed the phone face up on the table. Layla had received the same training as me and I knew what she would be looking for—had I hung up the phone, was I tricking her in some way? I needed to be careful. I’d seen this kind of manic behaviour before and, although she was relatively calm right now, it didn’t mean she would stay like that for long.

  She paced the floor, going between the kitchen and the living room, peering from the windows. “What have I done? What have I done?”

  “It’s okay, Layla. The paramedics are on their way.”

  She spun around, the knife raised, her eyes glinting viciously. “I don’t mean that, you interfering prick! I meant why did I let you convince me to get help?”

  I raised my hands, taking a step backwards. “Hey, hey. Put the knife down, Layla.”

  “No. I need to get him back inside. Now! Before anyone comes.”

  “It’s too late. Look.” I nodded at the window and the paramedics entering the property who were flanked by two armed officers.

  “No!” She ran towards the back door.

  I lunged forwards, grabbing her by the waist, preventing her from getting to Max.

  She shoved me off and screamed. Then she half-turned, the knife raised, her eyes wild. She was too far gone to register what she was about to do.

  I lifted my arms, covering my face. White hot pain tore through my forearm and I fell backwards.

  Layla landed on top of me, a snarl on her face, and raised the knife again.

  The gunshot seemed to come from nowhere and Layla was blasted backwards, the knife dropping to the tiles. A pool of blood spread from underneath her, mixing with Max’s blood.

  Looking around frantically, I spotted the armed officer at the kitchen window, his gun still drawn and aimed at Layla.

  Epilogue

  “Aw, look at him. He’s so pale.”

  Bella’s voice infiltrated my dream and I forced myself awake.

  The sight of her standing beside my hospital bed with Roy caused an unexpected surge of emotion I’d managed to supress since being admitted. I had to blink back the tears.

  “There you are, darling,” Roy said, tenderly, patting my hand. I struggled to swallow the huge lump in my throat. “How are you feeling?”

  That was a good question. How was I feeling? “Numb,” I whispered.

  “That will be the shock, no doubt,” Bella said.

  I nodded. Steve had been fussing around me since I awoke from surgery—Layla had sliced my arm wide open from elbow to wrist, nicking the main artery—and he’d only just left because I needed sleep, promising to be back before long.

  “We would’ve brought you some flowers, but apparently they’re not allowed anymore.” Bella plonked a plastic bag onto the side table and proceeded to pull out a pile of magazines and several bars of chocolate.

  “I don’t need flowers. I’m just happy to see you both.” I tried to sit up, but gave up on that idea. I ached like a bitch all over.

  “Ouch! Take it easy, hotshot,” Bella said, placing a hand on my chest. “Are you okay? Shall I call a nurse?”

  I shook my head. “No. It’s okay, I’m just sore, that’s all. Have you heard how Layla is? Nobody’s telling me anything, and Steve refused to ask. He’s furious.”

  “Where is Steve?”

  “He’s gone to pick up a few things for me. But come on. Tell me. How’s Layla?”

  “Not as dead as I’d like, unfortunately.” She scowled.

  I closed my eyes briefly, relieved to hear Layla was still alive. She hadn’t looked good when they carried her off on a stretcher. “Where is she? Do you know?”

  “Janine told me she survived the surgery.”

  I turned to Bella again. “And Max?”

  “In a bad way. They weren’t able to re-attach his penis, apparently. Hopefully they’ll be able to bump him up the list for gender reassignment surgery—the poor bastard wanted it gone but not like this.”

  “Let’s hope.”

  “They need to lock that evil bitch up for the rest of her days.”

  “Don’t be like that, Bells. She’s clearly not well.”

  “Not well? She’s a psycho bitch who would’ve killed you by all accounts. Why are you defending her?”

  “Because someone’s got to.”

  “I always knew there was something not quite right about her, but I didn’t know she could do something like this. I’d rip her throat out if they left me alone with her for just one minute.”

  I groaned. Although I was used to Bella’s no-nonsense attitude, I wasn’t in the mood to argue with her right now.

  Roy winked at me and changed the subject. “I called Blanche and told her you can’t make it on Friday,” he said. “She was gutted, but I promised her you’d be back on board by next week with a bit of luck.”

  “No, I bloody well won’t!”

  “Come off it, darling! You’re the best act they’ve had in that place for years.”

  “He’s right, Dylan,” Bella piped up. “I haven’t stopped talking about your performance all week. I told Penelope and she’s desperate to come to see you next time.”

  “There won’t be a next time. The case is closed and I’m hanging up my heels for good.”

  “I thought you’d enjoyed it?” Roy pouted. Had I upset him?

  “I did enjoy it, I guess. But it’s just not for me.”

  “Bullshit!” Bella said. “You were bloody amazing, Dylan. And I know you were in your element.”

  “It was a means to an end. Nothing more, nothing less.” As I said the words, I remembered the euphoria I’d felt after each performance. The truth was I would miss the buzz of performing to a crowd. “And besides, I’d never be taken seriously as a detective if I was a drag queen come Friday night.”

  “Do it one more time,” Bella said. “Just for me, simply for the thrill of it, and if you honestly don’t enjoy yourself, you won’t hear another word about it.”

  “Good idea.” Roy clapped his hands. “I’d be heartbroken if all my hard work was for nothing.”

  “But what about this?” I said, pointing to my bandaged arm.

  “I have plenty of outfits with sleeves to be getting on with,” Roy said.

  Bella nodded. “There you go. No excuses. Is it a deal?”

  I groaned. “One night only?”

  They both nodded.

  “And then you’ll leave me alone?”

  More nodding. Why didn’t I believe them? Although, now I’d made the decision, a bubble of excitement began fizzling in my stomach.

  Maybe I hadn’t quite finished with Avaline just yet…

  The End

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  Netta Newbound lives in The Lake District with her husband, Paul a
nd their adorable grandson, David.

  Marcus Brown lives in North Wales with his partner, Jon, their cat Tobias & three adorable dogs, Susie, Sally and Sammy.

  For more information or just to touch base with Netta & Marcus you will find them on:

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  Acknowledgments

  We’d like thank the following…

  Our respective families for their never-ending support.

  Gloria Nuckols for all that you do.

  Marika for her editing skills.

  Carol, Donna & Susan for all their hard work on Social Media.

  Sarah Hardy for organising the Blog Tour.

  Mel Comley and the wonderful ARC Team.

  All of the beta readers

  With Love… Netta & Marcus xx

  Also by Netta Newbound

  Also by Marcus Brown

  Copyright © 2019 Netta Newbound & Marcus Brown

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