Reckoning
Dividing Line #8
Dividing Line Series
By Heather Atkinson
Copyright Heather Atkinson April 2015
Acknowledgements
Thank you to my very supportive family - Mum, Dad, sister and fellow Indie author Suzanne Clark, my darling little girls Charlotte and Sophie, my lovely and very patient husband Paul, Fiona (Heid), Lorna, Lucy and Sam, Elaine, Uncle Mike and Aunty Sue. Also thanks to the wonderful and very gifted Diane Etherson and Michael. Last but never ever least, thanks to my fantastic readers for their support and well wishes, without whom I wouldn’t be writing now.
Please note, The Tower in Devon is entirely fictional. Also, Jules’s opinions are not my own. As always she does what she wants, I have no control over her.
Heather Atkinson April 2015
CHAPTER 1
“What do you think happened to Alex Maguire?”
The question wasn’t unexpected, in fact Ryan was surprised it had taken Gayle Westerly so long to get round to it, particularly as she had a reputation for being Manchester’s most determined and unrelenting reporter. Nevertheless he still needed a moment to gather his thoughts. A straightening of the shirt cuff, a narrowing of his grey eyes and he was ready. “I wish I knew. Alex was a much loved father and husband and he is sorely missed.”
Gayle’s shark’s tooth smile intimated that she didn’t believe him. “The authorities have officially declared him dead, in fact they couldn’t wait to. Do you agree with them?”
“Unfortunately, yes. Death is the only thing that would keep Alex from his wife and children.”
Gayle leaned forwards in her seat and Ryan could tell she was building up to the grand finale. “Who do you think killed him?”
Ryan didn’t even hesitate. “I have no idea. He had a lot of enemies.” His fingers momentarily tightened on the arm of the chair as he recalled slicing the bastard’s throat open, cutting deep, feeling the knife bite through skin and sinew, but the gesture was so subtle even Gayle’s sharp eyes missed it. He wondered what she’d do if she knew the man responsible for almost decapitating Alex was sat right in front of her. He was half-tempted to tell her just to see her reaction. They’d only agreed to this interview because they’d needed Gayle’s help and this had been her price.
Gayle stared at him for a moment before turning in her seat. “Rachel, who do you think killed Alex?” She was annoyed when Rachel appeared to be just as cool as her husband.
“I can only repeat what Ryan’s already told you. I have no idea,” she replied sweetly.
“What would you do if you did find out?”
Gayle’s question was a calculated one, designed to trap Rachel into an answer. She couldn’t say she’d go to the police because in the world she’d come from that just wasn’t done but she still had to maintain her upright, law-abiding image.
“If the police ever said they’d made a mistake and Alex was actually alive, we’d be delighted, wouldn’t we Ryan?”
“Over the moon,” he replied.
It was a smooth dodge of a bullet, which irritated Gayle even more but she wasn’t out yet. “Mikey Maguire stepped into his shoes quick enough.”
“That’s none of our concern,” replied Rachel. “If you’re so curious why don’t you try asking Mikey yourself?”
Ryan’s eyes danced with amusement. Not even Gayle Westerly, for all her pushy, provocative ways, would dare ask Mikey Maguire a question like that.
Not wanting them to see how they’d wrong-footed her, Gayle forced a broad smile. “So, after all the recent turmoil what’s next for you?”
“Well, we’re looking to expand our businesses,” began Ryan, refusing to show how relieved he was by the change in topic.
“You mean your empire?”
He smiled good-naturedly. “I’d hardly call it that. Family life’s hectic too, the kids keep us on our toes.”
Gayle was becoming bored. Happy families didn’t sell papers. She didn’t care about the mundane aspects of their lives, she was only interested in the dramatic and bloody. She switched off the Dictaphone lying on the coffee table. “Thank you Mr and Mrs Law, I’ve got everything I need.”
“Glad we could accommodate,” said Ryan.
“Rachel and Ryan Law’s first interview,” she said, eyes sparkling. “It’s going to be dynamite.”
Ryan tried not to grimace at the corny turn of phrase. “I’m not sure I like the word first, it implies there’ll be another.”
“Why not? Everyone wants to know all about you, you’re rock stars.”
Ryan arched an eyebrow, eyes cold with disdain. “They can want all they like, we won’t be giving another interview. That one was only to say thank you for your assistance in exposing a vicious serial killer for what he really was.”
“He’s right,” added Rachel. “We’re done.”
“Before you both make a rash decision, just think of the possibilities,” pressed Gayle. “We could do more interviews intermittently, to show everyone what you’re getting up to, your kids growing up...” Gayle realised she’d gone too far when Rachel’s eyes turned jet black.
“Enough,” she hissed. “It’s nobody’s fucking business what our family’s up to and we will not expose our children like that.”
“Okay, fair enough,” conceded Gayle, holding up her hands. Even she knew when Rachel Law’s eyes did that you didn’t push her. “We had an agreement and you stuck to it.” Quickly she got to her feet and started gathering up her things. She held her hand out to Rachel. “Thank you Mrs Law.”
Rachel accepted her hand and squeezed, pulling her closer. “Just so you know, if you change one word of what we’ve said we’ll be on the first plane up to Manchester.”
Gayle winced as Rachel put more pressure on her hand. “Understood.”
“Good,” said Rachel, releasing her. She went to stand by her husband, who had got to his feet, finding the situation amusing.
“Goodbye Ms Westerly,” he said.
“It’s Miss,” she retorted, regaining her composure. Rachel and Ryan could seem so normal, so affable it was easy to forget that beneath the respectable veneer they were violent criminals who’d done hideous things. The strength of Rachel’s grip had just given her a stark reminder of exactly who she was dealing with. “I’m far too young to be a Ms yet,” she said, ignoring Ryan’s sceptical look. She flashed him her most flirtatious smile. “Mr Law, it’s been a pleasure, as always.”
With a loud click-clack of high heels Gayle strutted to the door, turning to give them another wide-toothed smile before disappearing through it.
“Thank God for that,” said Rachel. “I thought we’d never see the back of her.”
“She really is a dreadful woman,” replied Ryan.
Rachel’s smile was playful, the anger in her eyes fading. “She fancies you.”
“How unpleasant. She probably consumes the male after mating.”
“So you’ve thought about mating with her, have you?” she smiled.
“Only in my nightmares. It never ends well for me,” he smiled back, planting a kiss on her lips.
“I wonder what everyone in Manchester will make of our interview,” she said, looking a little worried.
“To be honest, I couldn’t care less.”
“I told Mikey and he approved, he said it would be good PR for us.”
“We do not need his permission.”
“I know but I’d like it all the same. You don’t think everyone will call us grasses, do you?”
“No I don’t and if they’re smart they’ll keep any comments they may have to themselves. That interview wasn’t about Manchester, apart from that stupid question about Alex, it was about us setting the record straight after The Dartm
oor Butchers incident.”
Rachel went cold at the mention of their names. Three local psychos had decided they were bored hunting the local wildlife and had started hunting the local male population instead. They’d tried to make Ryan one of their victims but he’d put one of them in intensive care for weeks. Ryan had escaped relatively unscathed, physically at least, with the help of Rachel and the rest of the clan. But the memory of it still made her feel sick. He’d been missing for almost two days before they’d found him locked in a cabin on the moors. The Butchers had even made him eat human flesh belonging to one of their previous victims, which he’d fortunately vomited back up. All three of his kidnappers were now in prison awaiting sentencing. Wisely they’d all pled guilty so there would be no trial, thanks to the encouragement from Ryan’s friends on the inside. They might be living the legitimate life now but their reach was still long.
“I think incident’s too mild a word,” she said, feeling the horror and panic she’d experienced upon realising Ryan had been abducted. Before then it hadn’t even occurred to her that anyone would be capable of kidnapping him, she’d got too used to thinking of him as indestructible. But no one was, no matter how tough they were. Despite all the odds Ryan had still managed to turn the tables on his captors, one of whom had been left with a broken jaw and only one eye.
He saw the pain on her face and pulled her into a hug. “It’s over now and we’re off to Aberdeenshire tomorrow.”
“I can’t wait, I need to get away.”
“Me too.”
“Even though we’re going to see Thane?”
“I’ll tolerate the skirted fool, for you.”
She kissed him. “Thank you.”
“But if he starts flirting with you then I won’t be responsible for my actions,” he frowned.
“Yes you will. No arguing or fighting, we’ve had enough of that lately. We’re going to Scotland for some peace and quiet and to see how our money’s being invested.”
“I must admit I’m looking forward to that part. Whoever thought two kids from the rough Montford Estate would have the run of a Scottish castle?”
“We’ve done good honey,” she smiled.
He yanked her against him and slid his hands into her hair. “Very good. Better than I ever imagined.”
Their gazes held and they smiled at each other.
“There’s something I want to buy,” said Rachel.
“And what’s that?” he replied indulgently.
“I hid this in a magazine before Gayle got here. I didn’t want that nosy cow seeing it,” she said, producing a piece of paper from inside the pages of a glossy and holding it out to him.
Ryan stared at it and raised an eyebrow.
“Well?” she said eagerly.
“It’s…big.”
“That’s why I like it. This is going to be huge, The Tower has been part of the Devonshire landscape for donkey’s years. It’s even been on the telly about it being knocked down.”
“It’s seven hundred and eighty feet tall.”
“I know.”
“Do we really want all that attention on us after what we’ve been through recently?”
“I will not hide in the shadows,” she said firmly. “We’ve nothing to be ashamed of and investing in this land says we’re here to stay and we’re not going to hide away.”
“I like the sentiment but what will we do with the land once the bloody thing’s down?”
She produced more papers from inside the magazine. “I had our architect draw these up. It’s a leisure complex with not just a gym and sauna and all the trimmings but a bowling alley, cinema and restaurant too.”
Ryan flicked through the drawings. Once again his wife had astounded him. “Life with you is never dull, is it?”
“Do you like it?” she asked anxiously.
“Yes. I rather think I do,” he smiled.
Rachel was delighted. She’d wanted a huge project to take his mind off recent events and this would be just the ticket. They could get lost in the plans together and she enjoyed working closely with him. It would get them both back on track.
“That’s good because I’ve already applied for planning permission,” she said. “I’m assured there won’t be any objections, the application should be passed quickly enough.”
He replaced the papers on the coffee table and took her face in his hands. “Rachel Law, your intelligence and business acumen astonishes me.”
“I hope that’s not the only thing about me that astonishes you,” she said, taking one of his hands and placing it on her backside.
“You do possess other delights,” he said, kissing her. “We’ve got a couple of hours before we have to pick the kids up. Want to go to bed?” He was non-plussed when she shook her head. “Why not?” he demanded.
“Because I want to go to your study.” Her eyes rolled over black. “On your desk.”
“Jesus Christ I love you,” he said, kissing her.
Rachel squealed with delight when he threw her over his shoulder and marched in the direction of his study. She loved it when he went caveman on her.
CHAPTER 2
Jules knocked on the front door, which was opened by Jez.
“Hello little bruv. Looking good,” she said, indicating his white shirt and black trousers. “You’re a bit dressed up for tea at home, or are you waiting on table?”
“This is a dinner party, not tea in front of the telly,” he frowned. “And why are you covered in oil?”
“My bike broke down for the first time ever. She’s not given me any trouble since the day I bought her. I managed to get her going again but it was messy,” she said, holding out her hands, which were coated in dirt and grease.
“Come in,” he sighed, “but leave your boots in the hall.”
As she stepped inside Cathy appeared wearing a short, clingy black cocktail dress and Jules’s eyes widened.
“You must be Jules, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” smiled Cathy, holding her hand out to her.
“I would shake but I don’t want to ruin that gorgeous dress,” said Jules. “Sorry I’m late, my bike broke down.”
“That’s alright. You’re here now. You can get cleaned up in here,” she said, opening a door that led into the downstairs toilet.
“I didn’t realise we were dressing up,” said Jules, unzipping her black leather jacket to reveal a black hooded jumper beneath.
“I told you it was a dinner party,” said Jez. “Couldn’t you have made more of an effort?”
“Jez, don’t speak to our guest like that. The important thing is that Jules is here,” chided Cathy. She turned her attention back to Jules. “I’ve been wanting to meet you for ages. It’s so lovely to have another sister-in-law.”
“It’s lovely to meet you too,” said Jules, flashing her best smile. “And it wouldn’t have mattered what I wore, I wouldn’t have looked half as gorgeous as you.”
Jez’s eyebrows shot up when Cathy giggled coquettishly.
“Back in a sec,” said Jules with a wink at Cathy before disappearing into the bathroom.
Cathy caught her husband’s frown and her smile fell. “What?”
“Nothing,” he sighed.
“You wait here for her then show her into the lounge. I need to see to dinner,” she said before hurrying back into the kitchen.
Five minutes later Jules emerged, freshly washed. “I did my best but I couldn’t get all the oil out from under my nails. Will I be allowed to sit at the table or would you prefer it if I ate in the kitchen?” she said sarcastically.
“You’ll do and remember your manners, Cathy’s gone to a lot of trouble for tonight.”
“You’re a lucky fella, she’s gorgeous. Are the kids here?”
“No, Jack’s got a bit of a sniffle so they’re both staying with Cathy’s parents tonight.”
“Oh,” she said, disappointed.
“You’re here to meet Cathy and Amber tonight. If you behave yourself you’ll m
eet the kids next time.”
“Amber’s here?”
“Yeah, course. Why?” he said suspiciously.
“No reason,” she quickly replied. She was aware Jez thought there was something going on between her and Mikey, although the most that had ever happened was a kiss in Devon after they’d rescued Ryan from the serial killers.
“Right,” he said slowly, brow knotted. “Come on through then.”
Jez’s house was large but not overly grand or ostentatious, a smart move. An overt display of wealth was a sure way to get the police interested in you. It didn’t have the taste of Ryan and Rachel’s place but it was still welcoming and homely.
They entered the lounge to find Mikey sitting on the couch with a stunning but tiny redhead. Jules was the picture of nonchalance as she strolled into the room. Amber and Mikey got to their feet to greet her.
“Amber, this is Jules, Mikey’s cousin and my big sister,” announced Jez.
“Nice to meet you,” said Amber sweetly. “Mikey’s told me so much about you.”
“All bad I bet,” retorted Jules. “Only joking,” she added when Amber’s smile fell.
“She does that a lot, you get used to it,” said Mikey dryly.
Jules’s eyes locked with his. “Hello little cuz, how are you?”
“Good thanks.”
Although he was displaying no outward signs, Jules could read Mikey well enough to know that he was nervous about her and Amber being in the same room. He was probably worried she was going to blurt out something that he really didn’t want his wife to know. Jules enjoyed mischief but she wasn’t about to be cruel to these people who had accepted her into their family, so she resisted the impulse to wind him up a bit. “It’s nice to meet you too Amber,” she smiled. “Love the hair.”
“Thank you,” she said, unconsciously running a hand through her long red curls. “Yours is nice too, have you gelled it?”
In contrast Jules’s thick dark hair had been remorselessly hacked to her jaw and stuck out at odd angles. “No, it’s oil. Bloody bike broke down but I got it going again.”
Reckoning Page 1
