Psychological Thriller Series: Adam Stanley Boxed Set: Behind Shadows, Positively Murder and Mind Bender

by Netta Newbound

  He climbed the narrow, steep staircase that led to two bedrooms and a bathroom, where he showered and changed into some clean clothes.

  Back downstairs, he threw the overalls and cardigan in the rubbish bin. He made a cup of black tea, before sitting at the small two-seater kitchen table, where he contemplated his next move.

  A sound on the street outside made him jump to his feet. He crept into the lounge and peered out the window sighing when he discovered the cause of the noise—a local schoolboy, playing on a skateboard, who was trying to perform stunts along the edge of the pavement.

  He couldn’t settle and began pacing the floor in front of the window. He’d purposefully fitted the windows with a type of netting that allowed you to see out, but nobody could see in unless he switched a light on.

  Although he felt certain nobody knew about the house, he couldn’t shake the jittery feeling in his stomach. He’d never suffered with high blood pressure, yet he thought the reading would be off the chart if someone were to examine him at that moment.

  While he paced, he chewed his nails down to the quick and afterwards had to soak his fingers in a bowl of warm water.

  His stomach growled. A small can of tomato soup was the only thing in the cupboard, and he heated it in the microwave. A trip to the store was essential if he was going to pull off the next stage of his plan.

  At 7pm, he donned a grey woollen beanie and his trusty old denim jacket and headed along the road to the Nova. He was aware of the risk he was taking with the car, but he intended to change it the first chance he got.

  The supermarket was busy, which panicked him at first, but actually turned out to be a good thing. All the staff were busy rushing around, as were the customers. Nobody paid him the least bit of attention. He filled his trolley and paid in cash.

  As he approached Amanda’s house, he saw the detective’s car parked outside. He drove past and pulled over. On foot, he doubled back and along the path. A feeling of deja vu came over him as he passed the exact spot he was caught a few months earlier.

  There were only two lights on in the house and both on the ground floor. He carefully peeked in the front room window. He saw Amanda and her fancy man cuddled up together on the sofa. With a pang of resentment, he curled his top lip in a sneer. He hadn’t minded his sister seeing the detective at first, but when she tried to tell him Mary wasn’t his, she unearthed a rage within him he didn’t know he possessed. After all the years of abuse, Mary was the only good thing he had. Then no sooner does Amanda discover Mary is also her daughter, she tries to remove him from the girl’s life, probably because she wanted Mary to be part of her happy little family with the suave detective as the daddy.

  A quick inspection of the rear of the property showed the kitchen and children’s playroom empty.

  Ten minutes later, he parked the car again, and, keeping to the shadows, he skulked along the street. He hadn’t been there in years, and he hoped Sandra hadn’t moved house since Amanda lived with her.

  Head down, his movements fluid, he ducked in through the front gate and around the back of the house.

  In the semi-darkness he waited and listened. Light from the kitchen illuminated the back lawn—he needed to play it safe. Edging his way around the building, he kept as close to the wall as possible. He couldn’t believe his luck when Mary entered the kitchen.

  After getting a glass from a cupboard, she walked to the sink and turned on the tap. They were no more than two feet apart.

  Tentatively, he stepped from the shadows. The sound of children’s laughter came from upstairs followed by Sandra’s voice telling them it was time for bed. He had to move fast.

  As he placed his hand on the windowpane, Mary froze, the glass against her mouth, her head tilted back, and her eyes wide open.

  He held a finger to his lips and pointed to the back door.

  Chapter 30

  Amanda couldn’t understand what Sandra was telling her. Mary—gone! But how? She suddenly remembered Andrew telling her how he would watch her with her foster parents when he first returned from France. He knew how paranoid she was about the children, knew she wouldn’t allow just anybody to take them. Of course, they would be with Sandra. Why didn’t she think of that?

  Blood gushed through her veins making a pulsing sound in her ears. She was unable to speak for several minutes, thankful Adam was there to take control of the situation.

  He ushered her out the door to his car while he pressed the phone firmly to his ear. She didn’t have a clue who he was talking to, but the conversation sounded official.

  He eased her into the car, then ran around to the driver’s seat and ended the call. He turned to her before pulling from the kerb. “Don’t worry, Mand. He won’t hurt her.”

  As he spoke, her eyes filled with tears. Knowing what she did about Mary, and the details of her first kidnap, Amanda doubted she would ever see her daughter again. But how could she explain this to Adam? Andrew had taken his own daughter, as far as Adam was concerned.

  They found Sandra talking to a uniformed police officer. “I’m so sorry, Amanda,” she cried out as they entered. “I was putting the children to bed and left her for no more than five minutes.”

  “Hush! It’s not your fault,” Amanda found the strength to say.

  Adam reached for her hand. “I can’t hang around here, Mand. I need to get out there and help with the search. Will you be okay?” He gazed intently into her eyes.

  “Will you come back?”

  “If you want me to. It might be late though.”

  “I’ll be awake. Please come back.”

  Amanda walked him to the door and watched as he drove away. Suddenly numb, she left Sandra with the policeman and climbed the stairs to the dormer bedroom where she’d spent most of her teenage years.

  Newly decorated, it now housed a set of bunks in place of her old three-quarter bed, and the walls and matching curtains were covered in brightly coloured stripes and spots.

  Emma lay on the top bunk, twisted in the red duvet cover. Amanda stroked her daughter’s curls and wondered how her first day at school had gone. She’d completely forgotten all about it after receiving the call about Andrew.

  Bending to the lower bunk, she pulled the duvet up to cover Jacob’s shoulders and snuggled it up under his chin. Her darling babies were safe at least. Gripped by a sudden pang of dread as thoughts of Mary filled her mind, she swallowed down a sob and scurried from the room.

  She didn’t think Andrew would harm a hair on Mary’s head. He’d more than cared for her before. But Mary had just started to settle down. She was older now, and more aware than last time. She had her own group of friends and loved spending time with her cousins, not forgetting the relationships she’d built with her and Sandra. Amanda’s heart broke for the little darling. Mary was already confused enough by everything, without all this.

  She knew Andrew would have new birth certificates and passports already organised for them both, guessing he would head for France again.

  A sudden thought occurred to her, and she ran downstairs for the phone.

  Chapter 31

  Mary lowered the glass, her eyes not leaving his face.

  He placed a finger to his lips before pointing to the back door. She unlocked it without hesitation.

  “Daddy! What are you...?”

  “Ssshhh, babygirl. Quick. Come with me,” he whispered.

  “But my shoes ...”

  He glanced down at her bare feet and shook his head, shrugged out of his denim jacket and placed it around her shoulders. He lifted her into his arms. “I’ll buy you some new ones,” he said, and took off at a jog to where he’d parked the car.

  “Daddy, what’s happening?” she asked once they were both buckled in.

  “I’m back, and I’m going to look after you, just like old times.”

  “But what about Amanda? Will I still be able to stay there sometimes? And what about my school?”

  “You’ll go to a new schoo
l, babygirl. Make new friends.”

  Mary began scratching at her hands and blinking back tears.

  He couldn’t believe her attitude. He expected her to be overjoyed he was back.

  “Aren’t not happy to see me, babygirl?”

  “I am happy,” she said, although her face said different.

  He had no choice but to park close to the front door, considering all the shopping bags and Mary being barefoot. He peered up and down the street before lifting her from the car.

  Once inside, she glanced around the living room. “Where are we, Daddy?”

  “We’ll stay here for a few days until things calm down a bit. You need to trust me. You do trust me, don’t you, babygirl?”

  She nodded. “But why?”

  “They said I’m a bad man. You know I’m not a bad man, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but why did they say you are?”

  “For fuck’s sake, Mary! What’s with all the fucking questions?”

  Mary bent her head and began to sob.

  “I’m sorry, babygirl. I didn’t mean to yell. Come here. Come on.” He pulled her into his arms. He could’ve kicked himself for speaking to her like that. “Are you hungry?”

  She shook her head, sniffing.

  “Of course you are. I have lots of goodies in the car.” He eased her into the armchair. “Stay there.”

  He ran out and returned moments later, his hands filled with carrier bags.

  “What would you like, babygirl? I bought all your favourites. How about a biscuit? A jammy one.”

  She shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m not hungry.”

  Her attitude was beginning to piss him off. “Suit yourself.” He stomped through to the kitchen and began putting the groceries away.

  Before long, Mary appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Could I please call Amanda? She’ll be worrying about me.”

  “No she won’t. She knows you’re with me.”

  Her brow wrinkled, and he could tell she didn’t believe him.

  “What’s happened to you, Mary? I’ve missed you so much, and I thought you felt the same.”

  “I did miss you. I cried every night before I went to sleep.”

  “So what’s wrong then, babygirl?”

  “I’m scared. It doesn’t seem right.”

  “You’re my daughter. I love you and always cared for you in the past, didn’t I?”

  She nodded.

  “Who was the one who cared for you when Mummy was ill? Who cared for her?”

  “You did.”

  “Exactly. I never let you come to any harm. Did I?”

  She shook her head.

  “Well, then. Now stop worrying, and come and give your old dad a kiss.”

  She shuffled her feet towards him. He sat on one of the dining chairs and pulled her onto his knee.

  “I’ve waited so long for this moment, Mary. I won’t let anybody come between us ever again.”

  Chapter 32

  All main roads were blocked with everyone on high alert, but I worried that, with Andrew getting a good head start on us, he might well be miles away already.

  On a personal level, I was furious. Amanda loved her brother. Of course she did, and said only good things about the kind of parent he was. But what sort of father would subject his little girl to a nationwide manhunt?

  Frances and Cal arrived at the station together soon after I called them.

  “Thanks, guys. I owe you, big time. I don’t know what use we’ll be, but more heads are better than none, surely.”

  I erased some old ink from the whiteboard and began scribbling on it.

  “I think we need to start by knowing Andrew’s state of mind. Cal, could you talk to Andrew’s psychiatrist. He may or may not give us anything, but it’s worth a shot.”

  “Already onto it, boss,” Cal said, and headed to his desk.

  “What do you want me to do?” Frances asked.

  “Speak to the prison guards. Someone knows something—maybe his cellmate. Find out if he’s been corresponding with anybody since he’s been inside.”

  “Will do.”

  My phone rang. “Hey, Amanda,” I said softly.

  “Adam. You need to watch the airports and ferries to France. He’ll get fake documents for them both, and take off like last time.”

  “It’s all in hand, sweetheart. We’ll find them. I promise.”

  After we hung up, something niggled at me. What did she mean, ‘He’ll get fake documents for them both, like last time’? If she meant when he first ran away as a child, then of course he would have needed identification before joining the Foreign Legion. But she said, for them both. Well, I knew why he needed fake documents for Mary now, but not back then.

  I groaned when I remembered the head of the investigation was Pete Miller. Normally I’d contact the investigating officer to pass on all I knew, but it was pointless. Nobody could tell Pete Miller anything—least of all me.

  It made me laugh when the different divisions behaved so territorially—we were all on the same side, for fuck’s sake! But Pete’s problem with me went deeper than healthy rivalry. The person he should have a problem with was his long standing sidekick, Amy, who he obviously had a thing for. She preferred to blatantly throw herself at any other male, including me, as soon as she’d had a skinful.

  I had an idea and reached for my phone.

  A breathy female voice answered almost immediately.

  “Amy?”

  “A-ha.”

  “Adam Stanley. How are you?”

  “Oh, hi, Adam. Nice of you to call,” she purred.

  “It’s job related, unfortunately. I was wondering if you could let me know what’s happening with Pete’s case? The absconded prisoner.”

  “Let me guess. Pete’s not playing ball?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Yeah, no problem. I’ll keep you in the loop, but you owe me a pint.”

  “A pint?” I laughed. “I’d have thought a classy lady like you would drink wine!”

  “I do, by the pint!” She also laughed the deep throaty rumble of a hard-core smoker.

  I shuddered. She wasn’t my type at all, but she made no bones about the fact she fancied the pants off me, which in itself was a huge turnoff. However, I needed her cooperation on this, so I allowed her a few more minutes of idle chitchat before feigning an emergency.

  I hung up and glanced at the pile of paperwork on my desk and groaned at the memos from Head Office insisting I return their calls immediately.

  Chapter 33

  Lailani listened at the bedroom door but heard nothing. Running her fingers through her shoulder-length, thick, straight, black hair, she turned and crept back down the stairs.

  She needed to know Ross was sound asleep before going in there. He’d insisted she accompany him to bed earlier, but for once she stood her ground and told him she’d be up as soon as the laundry was done. He was a chronic snorer, so the silence confirmed he lay in wait.

  They’d been together for ten years, since Lailani was twenty-one years old. They met in the Philippines, where she was born. Ross, being thirty-five years her senior, excited her at first. He seemed so sophisticated and worldly-wise.

  Now he bored her shitless as her step-son, David, would say. If she had to put up with his burping, farting and pawing at her body for much longer, she’d end up smothering the dirty, old bastard with a pillow.

  She didn’t know when it happened, at what point the sexy, dashing and handsome man turned into the slobbish couch potato who expected her to wait on him hand and foot. But if she had to wash one more pair of skid-marked undies, she would scream.

  If it hadn’t been for David, she’d have been out of there years ago. He kept her sane, made her laugh, provided a sounding board and a sensitive ear.

  David was more her age. At twenty-four when they first met, they became best of mates. He saw she was terrified and spoke limited English, so he took her under his wing and spent hour u
pon hour with her, teaching her slang words and phrases, not to mention the odd swear word or two.

  He still lived at home and also worked in the offices of his dad’s international removal company. And he hated his dad almost as much as she did.

  But they had a plan.

  Ross was loaded, but kept her on a tight rein financially. He could easily afford a housekeeper, but instead insisted she run the house and cook all the meals.

  Her old mother never had any money when Lailani and her sisters were growing up, but, even on the pittance her father did hand over, she still managed to ferret a little bit away for a rainy day. If she taught her daughter anything, it was how to cook tasty and nutritious meals on a budget.

  She felt like her good fortune balanced on the edge of a precipice—as soon as Ross tired of her, or found a younger model, she was likely to be sent packing. He refused to marry her—didn’t believe in marriage.

  So, from the start, she began skimming at least a quarter of the housekeeping off the top, which wasn’t too difficult. He wouldn’t have the faintest idea how much it cost to make the type of meals she was used to cooking, and so she got away with it easily. She found a loose panel on the side of the bathtub and stashed the cash behind that. She hadn’t expected to be still around after all these years, but who else would feed and clean up after the fat, old bastard?

  Then last year, out of the blue, David kissed her. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, and they both confessed their feelings. But how could they possibly be together? Ross would hit the roof and probably have them both bumped off.

  When Ross suffered a heart attack six months ago, it was as though all their prayers had been answered. It happened while at work. His assistant found him at death’s door and called the ambulance, but the person calling Lailani indicated that he wouldn’t make it to the hospital alive.