Behind the Secrets (Behind the Lives #4)

by Marita A. Hansen

  A knock on the door, made him jump. “Come in.”

  The door opened. A tall, slim blonde walked in, dressed in police blues. Sarah was a mixture of pretty and plain, with an extremely loyal personality. Regardless of his foul mood, he smiled at her, Sarah’s presence always making him feel better. It wasn’t because he was attracted to her, definitely not; she was just a close friend ... although he knew she wanted to be more. But he’d shut her advances down when he’d first met her, the woman not backwards in coming forward. If she saw someone she wanted, she let them know, regardless of whether she had a chance or not, her forthright personality endearing—most of the time.

  Sarah stopped in front of his desk, her expression concerned. “How was your appointment with the psychiatrist?”

  Saul’s smile dropped.

  “That bad?”

  “I had to lie,” he said, trusting her completely. Sarah was one of the few people who always had his back in the precinct. Not only was she loyal, she had a heart of gold, someone who cared more about other people’s welfare than her own.

  She slipped into the chair in front of his desk. “What did you lie about?”

  He leaned back in his own chair. “That I was all right to go back to work.”

  “I thought you were going to say a lot worse than that, like what you did under Craven’s orders.”

  “I lied about half of that too.”

  “Good, some things are best kept as secrets, especially since the bureaucrats don’t understand what it’s like to be undercover. Rules have to be flexible or we end up dead.” She ran a hand over her hair, smoothing it down, her eyes sad.

  Sarah had gone undercover in a biker’s club, bringing down people she’d grown attached to—which was the difference between him and her. He hadn’t grown attached to anyone while working for Craven. He may have lusted after Craven’s wife and Beth, but it was just that—lust, nothing more, love never factoring into the equation. He’d only loved one woman, someone who was now beyond his reach, an angel no one could compete with.

  Sarah continued, “And if you’re feeling guilty about what you did while undercover, that’s a good thing, because once the guilt stops it makes you as bad as the criminals.”

  “I am as bad as the criminals. You’d balk at what I did as Craven’s right-hand.”

  “You were doing a job, and very well too. Plus, you’re a good man, Saul. You just have to remember that.”

  “I don’t feel good. I feel as dirty as that prick Torres.”

  Sarah grimaced. “No one is as dirty as that repugnant waste of space. Don’t ever compare yourself to him again. You’re not a rapist or a murderer.”

  Saul exhaled loudly, feeling like a rapist, his assault on Beth dogging his mind. “I have killed,” he said, unable to voice his guilt over Beth, “and brutally.”

  “Like I had to. And if you need to talk to someone else who won’t say a word to anyone, no matter what you say, whether it’s about murder or not, I know a psychiatrist who is totally trustworthy.”

  “Who?”

  “My cousin. I’ve told her things that would land me in jail, and all she did was help me come to terms with them. She’s like a priest in that sense - no matter what you say, it won’t leave her lips.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Don’t say no, just consider it.” She pushed to her feet and pulled out a card, holding it out for Saul to take. “Here’s her number. Mention you’re the good friend I’ve told her about.”

  He took the card and slipped it into his shirt pocket, knowing he wouldn’t use it. “You’ve talked about me?”

  She smiled sadly at him. “You did break my heart.”

  “Sarah—”

  She waved a hand at him. “Forget about it, my cousin helped me move on, and you’re family to me now; I don’t want to hide anything from you.”

  He nodded, knowing he couldn’t do the same.

  She pointed at his pocket. “I’ll be asking my cousin if you’ve called, so don’t throw that card away. I know what you’re like.” She went to leave, but turned back. “I almost left without telling you why I came in. Do you know a Beth Connor?”

  Saul went rigid.

  Sarah raised her eyebrows. “Well, that was a resounding yes. What’s your issue with her?”

  “She was one of the women in Craven’s Russian roulette game. Why did you mention her?”

  “Did you have a relationship with her?”

  “Why?” Saul asked, forcing his voice to stay calm.

  “The boss said, when you two ran into each other earlier there was a lot of tension, like the way exes act. If you did have a relationship with her, he wants to know, otherwise it could compromise the Torres case. Did you?”

  “No.”

  Sarah frowned. “I know you too well, Saul, and when you act tense like this, it’s a sure sign you’re lying.”

  “I didn’t have one with her!”

  Sarah jumped, her expression surprised.

  Saul exhaled loudly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout. I was interested in Beth, but she wasn’t in me. End of conversation.”

  “The conversation isn’t finished until I say it is.”

  “Sarah,” Saul said in a warning tone.

  She held up a hand. “You may not want to talk about it, but understand this: the boss is suspicious. I’d suggest you smooth things over with Beth to make sure she doesn’t say anything that could get you into trouble.”

  “What makes you think she would do that?”

  “Just by your reaction, so go see her. This case is too important for you to allow bad blood to get in the way.”

  “It’s best I don’t see her, I could make things worse.”

  “Or you could make them even more so by ignoring the problem.” She pointed at a spot on the floor. “I will be right back here tomorrow, checking that you’ve sorted things out.”

  “You act like you’re the boss.”

  “No, I’m acting like a friend, who knows how hard you’ve worked to bring down Torres. Don’t allow this woman to ruin years of work. End of conversation.” She turned and left the office, closing the door behind her.

  Saul placed his head in his hands again, feeling like he was in an even worse position than before.

  His mobile started ringing. He grabbed it, answering, “Detective Vaega speaking.”

  A gruff voice came over the line. “So, that’s your real surname.”

  Saul stiffened, surprised to hear Ant Torres’s voice. “You’re supposed to be under house arrest.”

  Ant continued, “I still am, though many of my men aren’t. By the way, Vaega doesn’t sound like a common name. I’m sure it wouldn’t take long for my men to track down your family. I reckon you’d crumble if I posted you one of their fingers, like you did when you thought Beth was going to die. You totally blew your cover, you pussy. I had no idea you were a cop until you did that. Was it worth blowing your cover for that worthless bitch?”

  “How did you get my number and who gave you a phone? You’ve been forbidden to make calls. This could get you thrown into prison.”

  “No it won’t, because no one can prove anything. You can’t even trace this call. You forget that I have a considerable amount of money on my hands, which gives me privileges—”

  Saul hung up, not allowing Ant to finish, furious that the prick had gotten his number. He picked up his desk phone to report the infraction, stopping as his mobile went off again. He swiped it up and snapped, “You can’t call me!” He went to hang up again, stopping as Ant said Beth’s name. “What about her?!”

  Ant laughed. “She’s my ticket to making you do what I want.”

  “If you think you can use her to blackmail me, think again, it won’t work. I’ll be reporting this call to my boss.”

  “You might want to reconsider that, Saul, considering I have information that could bury you. One of those juicy morsels is to do with Beth Connor. You were stupid to think I wouldn’t lea
rn about your dirty little secret in regards to that woman.”

  “What secret?” Saul said, hoping like hell Ant didn’t know about his assault on Beth.

  “That you wanted to fuck her—raw.”

  Saul gripped onto the phone. “Nothing happened between me and her.”

  “Don’t lie, Saul. I know everything that went on between you and Dante Rata’s woman.”

  “You have no proof.”

  “All my lawyers need is one grain of doubt, something that links you with the Connor family, so they can discredit your testimony.”

  Saul loosened his grip on the phone, realising that Ant didn’t know jack-shit, otherwise he’d be going into detail, revelling in the knowledge. Instead, all the dreg was doing was grasping at straws. “You don’t have anything to back up your lies, all of it conjecture. I have had no romantic involvement with that woman, nor do I ever want to.”

  “That’s not what I witnessed in the gun range. You looked terrified for her life. It’s why you pulled a gun on my father. So, I’m sure I can scrape up something to weaken your case against me, as well as Corey’s.”

  “Beth’s brother’s evidence is airtight.”

  “Nothing is airtight, especially when I have people on the outside working for me. By the way, don’t think you’re safe in your little office, where you get paid shit. Beth’s not safe either, only her cute little brother is—because I want him riding my big fat cock. But I can guarantee yours and Beth’s safety if you’re willing to assist my lawyers—”

  “I will have you up on those threats!”

  “You can’t do a thing behind your bureaucratic desk. And remember, Saul, I know everything you did while undercover. Your word will mean shit in court. Not only that, my lawyers will discredit your little girlfriend’s testimony as well. Maybe they could visit her and see exactly what your relationship is with her.”

  “They can’t go near her!”

  “Oh, I do apologise, you’re quite right. However ... my men don’t have the same restraints. By the way, did you know that Morris loves going out for nice long drives in his car? Maybe he could cut through Beth’s neighbourhood. Though, he does have a bad habit of running out of petrol. But then again, if he happens to run out of petrol on Beth’s street, I’m sure she’ll let him use her phone to call for roadside assistance. And once she lets him inside...” He hung up.

  Saul yelled out. Absolutely furious, he shot out of his chair and grabbed his coat, needing to make sure that Beth got protection.

  He headed down the passageway to his boss’s office, knocking on the door loudly.

  Joseph barked out, “Come in before you put a hole in it!”

  Saul entered the room, closing the door behind him.

  Joseph scowled at him. “You don’t have to put your fist through my goddamn door to get my attention. Now, what is it?”

  “Ant Torres just phoned me on my cell. He’s threatening Beth Connor if I don’t help him with the trial. We need to arrange protection for her straight away.”

  “How the hell did he get a phone?” Joseph sliced a hand through the air, cutting off a reply. “Scratch that, money talks and he has screeds of it. But this situation needs to be dealt with straight away. I want you and Sarah to go safeguard Miss Connor until I can make other arrangements.”

  “I don’t have the time to watch her,” Saul said, not wanting to have any contact with Beth. “I told you I’ve got paperwork to do.”

  “Miss Connor’s safety is more important.”

  “Just get someone else to monitor her.”

  Joseph frowned. “This isn’t like you, Saul. When do you choose paperwork over protecting a witness?”

  “I’m just snowed under.”

  “I think there’s more to it than that. Don’t think I didn’t notice the awkwardness between you and Miss Connor earlier. What was that about?”

  “She’s scared of me. I had to intimidate her while undercover.”

  “Your situation was explained to her, plus you saved her life. She should at least be grateful for that.”

  “She isn’t, so it’s best I stay away from her.”

  “I don’t agree. You need to resolve any issues you have with her, because I don’t want them affecting the case. Hear me?”

  Exhaling loudly, Saul nodded, not willing to tell Joseph the full story.

  Joseph smiled. “Good. Also tell her that the police presence is a routine measure we do to make witnesses feel safer. You don’t need to let her know she’s in danger. She’s the only Connor cooperating. I don’t want her to get spooked. Understood?”

  Saul nodded, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut, although he knew he wouldn’t have—Ant’s threat real.

  Joseph flicked a hand for him to leave. Saul went to go, stopping as Joseph called out, “I want all your phone calls recorded until the trial. If Torres calls again, I want proof of his threats.”

  Saul nodded.

  “Good. Now, go explain to Miss Connor about the protection.”

  Saul turned for the door, not sure how he was going to handle Beth.

  5

  L

  It had been ten long years since L had been in New Zealand. And it scared the hell out of him. The other travellers instead appeared excited as they dragged their suitcases through Auckland International Airport, heading for the passport control point. On his left was a family, the mother and father in their forties. Their young teenagers chattered excitedly, looking like they couldn’t wait to see the beauty of New Zealand. L had never seen the beauty, only the horrors, which was why his mother had taken him out of the country when he was sixteen, whisking him back to her homeland: Wales. He loved everything about Wales, especially the farm they’d lived on near the Cambrian Mountains, a remote place where L could hide away from the world.

  Then why am I back?

  The name Dante Rata came to mind. A close friend had asked him to be Dante’s lead guitarist, and if it had been anyone else he would’ve said no, but he’d accepted because… he wanted to see Dante’s oldest brother again. Ash had been the first and only boy he’d fallen in love with. L frowned, knowing it was stupid to return, especially since Ash had never been interested in him in that way. Still, he ached to see him again, which was something he’d wanted to do for a long time, only his fear stopping him.

  L shuffled forward, dragging his suitcase behind him as the family of four were ushered through the control point, their passports having been checked. The passport checker indicated for L to approach the booth, the middle-aged man smiling at him, the appreciation in his eyes evident.

  The man held out a hand for L’s passport. L passed it over, receiving a “Thank you, ma’am,” in return. The man opened the passport, his smile instantly dropping, a look of confusion taking over. He looked back up at L, his cheeks reddening. “Ah, I’m sorry, Mr. Davies.”

  “It’s all right,” L said, feeling bad that he’d embarrassed the man. People always thought he was female, his long hair adding to their confusion. It was orange, with golden highlights, which he’d added to tone down his naturally bright hair. He also had feminine features and preferred to wear androgynous clothes, the tight red leather pants and long flowing cloak accentuating his petite physique.

  The man stamped his passport, then indicated for L to pass through, probably thinking L was a transvestite. But he wasn’t—he was intersex. He had a mixture of male and female parts, such as his breasts. When his chest had started to develop in his mid-teens his mother had taken him to a doctor, who’d put him through a plethora of tests. That was when he’d found out he wasn’t fully male, which made sense, since he’d never felt like he was. The doctor had asked whether he wanted gender reassignment surgery, which he’d declined, the thought terrifying him. He liked both his cock and breasts, and wasn’t sure he wanted to give up either of them. Though, if he ever fell for a guy again, he might consider getting it done, especially since his cock was too small to please a woman, that one time with a f
emale rock-star humiliating. However, he wasn’t sure whether he could have sex with a male either. He breathed out, pushing down the memory of what Ant Torres had done to him ten years ago, something he didn’t want to remember—or ever have to relive again.

  He headed through the sliding doors, veering towards the women’s restroom. He preferred using the female facilities over the men’s, especially since men either told him to leave or stared at his tiny dick when he pulled it out for the urinals, making him feel deeply uncomfortable. It also reminded him of what Ant Torres had done to him in the boys’ toilets at school, the fear never going away, even after all these years.

  L breathed out, Ant constantly coming to mind, the memories he’d suppressed for so long returning. Willing himself not to think of his rapist, he entered the women’s restroom, moving to the back of the line. When a stall became available, he quickly went to the toilet, not wanting to make Jade wait. Once finished, he washed his hands, then pulled out a brush from his bag to tidy his orange and gold mane of hair, the colour making his hazel-green eyes stand out even more. He looked just like his sister now, though her chest was smaller than his, the thought making him smile, something that was a sore point for his sister. He was looking forward to seeing her again, her last visit having been three months ago.

  He put the brush into his bag, smiling at the little girl staring up at him.

  “You’re beautiful,” she said, her face doll-like. “Are you a model?”

  “No, but you must be, because you’re much more beautiful than me.”

  The girl giggled, appearing ecstatic over his words. Her mother took her hand, giving L a smile as she moved her daughter out of his way. Waving at the little girl, L dragged his suitcase out of the restroom, his carry bag balancing on top of it. His smile disappeared as he walked down the airport corridor, feeling uncomfortable as men looked his way, a few openly staring at him. It was why he rarely travelled—or left home. Instead, he preferred to put down tracks in the studio his uncle had built for him on the farm, which was how he made a living. His albums were mostly instrumental compilations, with a few songs thrown in when he felt like singing. He also did some instrumental work for music producers, which was how he’d met the female rock-star, their relationship fizzling out fast after their disastrous romp.