by Diane Capri
She led the way into the double bedroom at the rear of the property. Gibson raised a questioning eyebrow at the red flock wallpaper adorning all four walls.
Linda had to admit the room did have a feel similar to a tart’s boudoir. She shrugged. “The lady of the house liked to experiment with colours.”
He took several steps toward her, gave her one of his devastating smiles and said, “Tell me, Linda—do you like to experiment too?”
Unknowingly she stepped back. The emphasis he’d put on the word experiment sent shockwaves of panic shooting out to every frazzled nerve ending. She had to get out of there, away from him, quickly.
Linda forced her shoulders back and squeezed past him. Her breasts touched his chest, and he attempted to grab her shoulders, but she was too quick for him. She darted for the stairs and ran down them before he had a chance to reach for her again.
Linda sprinted into the lounge and waited for Gibson to follow her.
Gibson screeched to a halt when he saw Linda standing alongside her sister. He turned sharply when he heard a sound behind him and tried to duck when he saw the baseball bat aimed at his head, but Ami made a direct hit. Gibson crumpled to the floor, knocked out cold.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“Jesus! What do we do now, Fi?” Linda asked as the three of them gripped each other’s forearms and stared at the prostrate figure beneath them.
Fiona took charge, she glanced around the room and pointed. “Ami, get that chair. Linda, there’s a rope in the carrier bag in the corner.”
Linda and Ami ran to different sides of the room and returned with the items. Fiona positioned the old wooden dining chair at the rear of Gibson and knelt down beside him. “Help me get him into the chair,” Fiona demanded urgently.
Between the three of them, they heaved Gibson’s dead weight into the chair amidst plenty of heavy breathing and straining noises. Fiona put her Girl Guide’s experience to use; she quickly and expertly tied Gibson’s wrists behind him to the wooden upright of the chair. Standing back, she admired her work.
After a final tug on the rope, she turned to Linda and Ami. “If anyone has any second thoughts about this, speak up now?”
One look at the girl’s faces gave Fiona her answer. “Linda, is there a cup or pot left in the kitchen cupboard?”
“Not sure. Why?”
“Will you go look for me, please? If you find anything suitable, fill it with water.”
Linda left the room and came back to find Fiona delving into the carrier bag. One by one Fiona laid the contents of the bag on the floorboards in front of her: a hacksaw, pliers, matches, and a newspaper. She arranged the items carefully on the wooden floor.
Linda and Ami looked on in astonishment. They had never discussed what would happen to Gibson once he’d been caught. When the girls glanced up at Fiona, she had an evil glint in her eye, and an ominous smirk tugged at her red lipstick–stained lips.
Fiona held out her hand for the glass of water. Linda hesitated for a moment or two, then reluctantly passed the glass to her sister. She threw the water, hard, in Gibson’s face. He coughed and spluttered into life again.
Immediately, his gaze narrowed at the three of them. “What the fuck is this all about?”
Fiona noticed Linda cower back from his anger-filled tone. Fiona looked her way and winked, and instantly Linda stood proud and tall again, ready for the fight that lay ahead of them.
Gibson warily watched the exchange between the girls before he verbally attacked them, “When I get out of here, I’m going straight to the police. You do know that kidnapping is a crime, don’t you?”
His gaze homed in on Linda. Fiona suspected that he thought it wouldn’t take much to unnerve her. Fiona took up the verbal challenge. “Oh, right! So you don’t reckon rape is a crime, then?”
Gibson’s mouth turned up in a sneer. “In case you need reminding, I was found not guilty by a court of law.”
“Yeah, and we all know why, don’t we? Money talks.”
Gibson snorted. “The jury recognised that I was the one telling the truth. That’s why I got off. These two were begging me for it.”
Fiona heard Linda’s breathing become more pronounced and saw her stiffen with anger. Defending her sister’s honour, she stepped towards Gibson and backhanded him hard across his face. “Bastard! I’d watch your mouth, if I were you.” Fiona glanced pointedly down at the tools in front of her.
Gibson shook his head and twisted his jaw from side to side. A trickle of blood ran down the side of his mouth from where Fiona’s hand had made contact. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Big mistake, buster.” Fiona reached down and picked up the pliers. She turned to Ami and Linda. “Grab his right arm.”
Both of the girls pounced on Gibson. Ami held the lower part of his arm near the wrist, while Linda grasped his upper arm. They held it tight as Fiona approached the struggling hostage.
He cried out, all his bravado forgotten as Fiona pulled the thumbnail from his right hand. “Jesus, no! Don’t touch me! Ahhhhh!”
“That’s just the beginning, Gibson. We demand an apology.” Fiona searched in her handbag and pulled out a mini tape recorder. She pressed the Record button.
Gibson seized his opportunity. “Help! They have me tied up. They’re torturing me to get an admission of guilt. Anything I say will be said under duress.”
Fiona ripped another nail off the same hand and his scream filled the room.
Fiona was lost in a manic haze and at first didn’t feel her sister yanking on her arm pleading with her to stop, as she delighted in the sight of the pool of blood trickling down and settling on the floorboards behind Gibson’s chair.
“Fiona, please. Don’t do any more.”
Fiona narrowed her gaze and pulled her arm out of her sister’s grasp. She leaned down and whispered in Gibson’s ear, “It’s only going to get worse. Admit that you lied now, or there will be no turning back. This is your final chance.”
Gibson shook his head adamantly. “Never! You haven’t got the balls to go through with this,” he added naïvely.
“Really? And just how attached are you to your balls, Gibson?” Fiona snarled, her gaze dropping down to his crotch.
Her words hung in the air for several seconds before Linda said, “Fiona, please don’t do it.”
Fiona turned on her sister. “After what he did to you, how could you possibly stick up for him?” Linda reeled at the viciousness in Fiona’s voice. Am I taking this too far?
“He’s not worth it, Fi. You can see how stubborn he is. He’s never going to admit to raping either Ami or me. Please rethink what you’re doing.”
Fiona shook her head from side to side in defiance, slowly and deliberately—almost tauntingly. “There’s no turning back now, Sis.”
“Listen to your sister, you dumb bitch. Let me go now, and I won’t press charges against you,” Gibson shouted.
With her face inches from his, Fiona sneered. “You won’t get the chance to press charges, smartarse. By the time I’ve finished with you, you’ll be a quivering wreck—an ugly one, at that. No one will take any notice of you. You’ll be a nobody.”
The room fell silent. The only noise that could be heard was Gibson swallowing.
Fiona reached down and picked up the hacksaw. Gibson’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. Unconcerned Fiona walked behind the chair.
Gibson’s head turned swiftly to follow her. Disbelief written all over his face. Fiona gripped the little finger on the hand that had escaped pain thus far. His screams rebounded off the inanimate walls as the blade slowly sliced through the flesh and bone.
Fiona heard her sister gag and spit on the floor. “Please, Fi. I’m begging you to stop it!”
But Linda’s pitiful pleading only enraged Fiona more and spurred her on. How could she beg me not to hurt him after all he’s done to her?
Fiona took hold of Gibson’s little finger, and despite his futile attempt to dislodge his finger f
rom her grasp, she hacked away just below the joint, severing it in half.
#
“I’ll get it!” Lorne shouted when she heard the phone ringing in the lounge. After six impatient rings, she finally answered it. “Hello?”
“Thank God! I thought you were out.”
“Carol, is that you?” Lorne asked, trying to catch her breath.
“Lorne, oh Lord! We have trouble. I can see this ending badly.”
“Whoa, hold on a minute. What are you talking about?” Lorne looked up to see a worried Tony lean his head against the doorframe, a quizzical expression on his face. She shrugged her left shoulder slightly in response and turned her attention back to the psychic.
“We need to act quickly, before it’s too late. The girls are out of control—”
“Right now, Carol, I need you to tell me what you mean. I haven’t got a clue what the heck you’re talking about.”
“Can you and Tony come and pick me up?”
Lorne blew a heavy breath out in exasperation. “We can’t both come. There’s Dad to consider. Just tell me what you’ve seen or felt?”
“The three girls have that Gibson fellow. Lorne, they’re doing dreadful things to him. If we don’t try and stop them soon, I fear it’s going to be too late.”
“Shit! Any idea where?”
“We don’t have time for this, dear. Get over here immediately.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Hold tight, Carol.” Lorne hung up and rushed past Tony.
He gently grabbed her arm. “What is it?”
“I have to get over to Carol’s right away. Gibson is in danger.”
“You’re not making any sense, love.”
“Carol’s had one of her visions, and the girls are holding Gibson captive and doing terrible things to him, apparently. I need to pick Carol up. Will you be all right here with Dad?”
“Go. Although if I was in your shoes, I wouldn’t rush to save that scumbag. Let the girls have their fun with him.”
Lorne smirked but shook her head. “You’re a wicked man, Tony Warner. You know I can’t stand by and let something like that happen, even if I wanted to cheer the girls on. I’ll give you a ring later.”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard on the lips. “Be careful out there.”
“I intend to be.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
As Lorne turned into Carol Lang’s road, she spotted the woman standing by the curb, anxiously pacing up and down in front of her tiny terraced house.
“What took you so long? You’ve been half an hour or more,” Carol said, falling into the passenger seat.
“Damn rush hour traffic. I’m here now. Have you seen anything else?”
Carol’s hands went to either side of her temples, and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. “They have him tied to a chair. I’m seeing a green area opposite the house. Is one of the girls an estate agent?”
Impressed, Lorne replied, “I believe Linda is, yes. Why?”
“They laid a trap for him, and he walked right into it. What’s the term—”
“Jesus, I think you’re thinking of a honey trap. I’m not sure it could be called that, but I get your drift.” Lorne knew the girls had been destroyed by the verdict, but she wouldn’t have thought it possible for them to do something as despicable as this. A scorned woman was someone not to tackle lightly. Two scorned women were a force to be reckoned with, while three scorned women would and could be downright dangerous, as Gibson was finding out. “Any idea where they are? Can you see what type of house, Carol?”
She gave a defeated shrug and ran a frustrated hand through her hair. “I’m not getting an image of the house yet, only the green space near it.”
“Great! There are tons of green spaces in London and on the outskirts too. Anything else?”
“All I can see are the three girls surrounding Gibson. The room appears to be empty of all other furniture. Let me look deeper,” Carol told her before she fell silent again.
Lorne scanned all around her as she thought of possible areas they could try that were relatively close by. With the darkness descending around them, she knew it was imperative to get moving soon. She glanced back at Carol hoping for further details.
“The house is huge. Empty and huge. Hang on—the green space is a park. It’s opposite the house. Let me see if I can go outside.”
Carol drifted off again. Lorne studied her closely and saw her begin to squirm in her seat. What the heck is she doing?
As if hearing her or reading her mind, Carol explained, “I’m walking out through the front door. It looks like a large Georgian mansion. Wait, I can see the edge of the road sign—something Gardens.”
With no Sat Nav in her father’s car, Lorne reached in the glove compartment and got out the London street map. It took her a while to find anything remotely similar to what Carol had described. Two possibilities immediately caught her attention. She indicated the two spots on the map with a pen and handed it to Carol. “Either of those locations look familiar?”
Silence filled the car, then Carol tapped the map with her forefinger. “I’m leaning more towards this location, Lorne. How far are we from it?”
She quickly worked out a route and then folded the map back on itself. Leaving the route she was going to take uppermost, she handed it to Carol. “I’m guessing it’s a good twenty minutes from here—providing the traffic isn’t too bad, that is.” Lorne started the car and drove off.
“Shame you don’t have one of those little blue lights attached to the roof.” Carol let out a large sigh. “I fear it’s going to be too late.”
The words hung menacingly in the air between them. Unusually Lorne drove like a professional, possibly due to the urgency of the situation. As she drove, her mind raced at a hundred miles an hour.
With one hand gripping the steering wheel, she delved into her jacket pocket, located her mobile and punched number three on the pad. “Katy, I need a favour.”
“Of course. What is it?” Katy replied, thankfully without pausing.
Lorne ran through the sketchy details they had about Gibson’s possible abduction, because it had yet to be proven, and asked if it would be possible to get a patrol car to search the area.
“There’s no need, I’ll do better than that, Lorne.” She lowered her voice. “I’m just leaving for the day, anyway. I’ll take a detour and meet you at the location.”
Shocked, she replied, “Katy, I can’t ask you to get involved in this, it could jeopardise your career.”
“Nonsense. See you there.”
Katy hung up before Lorne could argue further.
A thrill ran through Lorne. It was good to be working with Katy again.
#
“What have you done?” Linda cried out.
Fiona looked at her frantic sister’s tear-stained face and stammered, “I don’t know. I never meant to go that far.” She sunk to her knees beside Gibson’s limp body and buried her head in her hands.
Rocking back and forth, she had to fight back the urge to throw up. She truly hadn’t meant to take things quite that far, never intended to end the rapist’s life like she had. But once she’d seen the suffering on his face, an uncanny evilness had taken over and driven her on. An unknown rage had guided each action using the different implements—a rage that, once it begun, had been unstoppable.
Ami tried to help Fiona to her feet. “We have to get out of here, now.”
Linda shook her head. “What? We can’t leave him here. I have the keys, remember. I was the last one to see him alive. There are records to prove that back at the office.”
Ami asked quietly, “What will we do then? Dispose of the body?” Both Linda and Fiona’s heads snapped round to look at her. “Well, what other option do we have?”
Fiona rose from the floor, and her legs almost gave way again. She leaned against the wall for support. “We need to think this through.”
“I thought we had already,�
� Linda retorted. “You’re the one who went over the top, Fi. Make him suffer, you said. You didn’t tell us your plan included killing him.”
Fiona widened her eyes at the accusation. “I didn’t have plans to kill him. What do you take me for, Linda?”
“After that little display I’m beginning to wonder if I know you at all.”
Ami stepped between them, placed her hands over her ears, and shouted, “Stop it! Stop the arguing. What good will it do? What’s done is done. What we need to think about is what the fuck we’re going to do with the body. It’s getting dark. Now would be an ideal opportunity to get rid of it—of him.”
Fiona sucked in a shuddering breath. Ami was right. It was the perfect time to get rid of Gibson, once and for all. “Is there a rug in any of the rooms, Linda?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll go and check.” Linda ran out of the room.
Fiona could hear her footsteps above as she went from one room to another. The look of disgust on Ami’s face tugged at Fiona’s heart. Needing reassurance that Ami didn’t hate her, she said, “I didn’t mean to kill him, Ami. I couldn’t stop myself. Images of him raping the pair of you… And what he did to Blackie…”
“What? Are you telling me he killed Blackie?” Ami asked before her mouth fell open.
Fiona could have kicked herself for her stupid slip of the tongue. “Lorne and I were desperate to keep that from you and Linda.”
Anger replaced Ami’s shock. “You don’t have to explain, Fiona. Despite what he’s done, he didn’t deserve to die. You scared me. It was as if you had become possessed by the devil. He didn’t deserve that, Fi. However much a bastard he was, he didn’t deserve to die,” she stated, her voice quivering.
“I know. I’ll have to live with that guilt for the rest of my life. What I won’t be able to live with is your and Linda’s unwillingness to forgive me.”
Before Ami could respond, Linda came bounding into the room. Breathlessly she told them, “In the back bedroom there’s a rug. Can one of you help me bring it down?”
Ami left the room before Fiona answered. Linda ran after her, leaving Fiona alone with Gibson’s tortured body and the unsatisfactory feeling that she’d damaged not one, but two relationships, because of her over-the-top actions.
