‘Your sister came to see me last week,’ he said.
‘Which one?’
A smile ghosted across his face. ‘Auryn.’ He savoured her name. ‘She was finally willing to see sense and give me the money I’m owed.’ He gestured at the plastic wrapper. ‘Almost all of it, anyway. It took a bit of convincing for her to hand over the rest.’
Daniela almost pulled the trigger on him there and then. ‘You killed her for that? For money?’
Henry’s face underwent a transformation. ‘She’s dead?’
Daniela steadied her aim. ‘Stand up.’
‘Wait.’ Henry’s brows creased in a deep frown. He rubbed his mouth with shaky fingers. ‘That can’t be right. She can’t be dead.’
‘Stand up!’ Even though Daniela was the one holding the gun, she’d never been so scared. She couldn’t think.
Call Steph. Get her here.
Daniela took one hand off the shotgun to awkwardly fumble her phone out of her pocket. Henry watched her. He was thinking.
‘There’s something you haven’t asked that you probably should,’ he said. ‘You wanna know why that shotgun is here?’
Daniela didn’t answer. She was trying to find Stephanie’s number without taking her eyes off Henry. The shotgun was heavy and kept dipping.
‘I’m doing a favour for Eric Winters,’ Henry said. ‘He lent me the shotgun so I can keep the vermin levels down while I’m here. The flood’s pushed all the rats out of their holes. They’re popping up everywhere.’ He reached towards the cupboard next to the bed.
‘Sit still,’ Daniela barked.
Henry ignored her. He opened the cupboard and put his hand inside. ‘See, even I’m not irresponsible enough to leave a loaded weapon lying around my bedroom.’ His hand withdrew, holding a small cardboard carton. He rattled the contents. ‘First rule of firearms. Ammunition is kept separate.’
He stood up.
Daniela stuffed her phone back in her pocket so she could hold the shotgun with both hands. For all the good it’d do now. She broke the weapon open and saw the two empty barrels.
‘Were you calling the police just now?’ Henry asked. ‘Or someone else?’
Daniela flung the shotgun at his head. Henry got his arms up in time to stop it from beaning him in the face. Daniela dived under the collapsible table and scrambled for the door.
She tripped on the doorsill and went sprawling. Winded, she twisted round and saw Henry standing over her. The shotgun was cracked open across his arm. Deliberately, making sure she was watching, Henry took two cartridges out of the carton and loaded the weapon, then closed it with a snap.
Daniela leapt off the decking into the flood. Water soaked her legs as she ran, stumbling, half falling, away from the cabin. At any second, she expected to hear thunder and feel the punch of buckshot between her shoulders.
But nothing followed her except Henry’s laughter.
34
She backtracked half a mile down the road, until the sodden fields on either side gave way to trees again, before she clambered over a gate and took refuge in the woods. The trees protruded from the mirror-like water, which was cold and still and could’ve been six inches or six feet deep.
‘Some of us are forgiving … some of us aren’t.’
Daniela followed what might’ve been a path until she was out of sight of the road. Then she pulled out her phone again.
Her hands tremored as she dialled Stephanie’s number. Her jogging pants were wet from the knees down and she was exhausted from running through shin-high water. The space between her shoulder blades still itched.
The line rang three times before Stephanie answered.
‘Don’t hang up,’ Daniela said before Stephanie could speak. ‘I’ve got some stuff you need to hear.’
‘Come to the station with me,’ Stephanie suggested. ‘Tell us in person.’
Daniela almost laughed. ‘Yeah, no. Listen, Henry McKearney is here.’
A pause, then: ‘So?’
‘He’s in Stonecrop. Right now.’
‘He never really left. What’s your point?’
‘He’s renting a cabin at Winterbridge Farm. You know that as well, right?’
Stephanie said nothing. It was a police officer’s trick – keep quiet and let you talk yourself into a hole. At that moment, it suited Daniela fine.
‘Cabin Four,’ Daniela said. ‘There’s a bunch of stuff that shouldn’t be there.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like Henry McKearney, for a start. Margaret told me he’d left town and only comes back when he wants to harass her, but he’s here now.’
‘When did you speak to Margaret?’
‘Yesterday, in the shop.’ Which was true, as far as it went. ‘Pay attention, will you? Why is Henry here when everyone else has been evacuated?’
‘Are you there now?’
‘No.’
‘Then where are you?’
‘Don’t be thick, I’m not telling you.’
Stephanie let out a long breath. ‘Daniela, I don’t know what you’re doing, but the best thing for everyone is if you tell me where you are. We can talk about this properly.’
‘Yeah, with me in handcuffs, I get it. Will you helicopter in a lawyer for me?’
‘If necessary.’
Daniela kicked a submerged root in frustration. ‘I didn’t kill Auryn, Steph. I can’t believe you’d think that. But someone did do it. And Henry’s right here in Stonecrop. He has to be on your list of suspects, doesn’t he?’
‘What are you basing that on?’
‘Oh, seriously. He’s got a good enough reason.’
‘If he’d killed you, sure, he’d have good reason.’
Daniela leaned against a tree and stared down into the water. ‘I went to the cabins to talk to Henry, okay? There was—’
‘You went to find him?’
‘Why do you always assume the goddamn worst about me? There were things in his cabin. A blue plastic wrapper. And a shotgun.’
‘What do plastic wrappers prove?’
Shit. Daniela had as good as admitted she knew about the money in the old house. She closed her eyes. ‘I spoke to him, Steph. Auryn went there, to his cabin, a few days ago. She gave him a load of Dad’s money. But I don’t think it was enough. I think he went looking for the rest.’
Stephanie covered the mouthpiece for a moment while she spoke to someone. Who was there with her? Had the rest of the police finally turned up?
‘Look,’ Daniela said, ‘I’m telling you I didn’t kill Auryn, and I’m further telling you I know who probably did. It’s like you’re not even listening. You’ve already made up your mind.’
A pause. ‘You’ve done very little to convince me,’ Stephanie said in a careful tone. ‘If you’re so innocent, why’re you running?’
Daniela rubbed her forehead. ‘I can’t go back, Steph.’
‘Back where? To prison? If you haven’t done anything—’
‘I’m serious. You’ve no idea what’s at stake. I understand what you’re saying, but I’m not gonna hand myself in when I’ve done nothing wrong.’ Daniela sighed deeply. ‘We can’t let Henry get away with this.’
‘We?’
‘Auryn’s my sister too. I want you to catch the fucker who killed her. You have to call for reinforcements to go get him. An armed response unit. I don’t care if they have to swim to get here. I literally saw Henry loading a shotgun. And—’ Daniela rubbed her forehead again. ‘And tell them to be careful, all right? Make sure they—’
‘Come to the house, Dani. We’ll talk. The forecast says the weather should break during the night, and when it does, I won’t be the only person looking for you. They’ll bring tracker dogs. Once that happens, I can’t protect you.’
Daniela tried to reply but the lump in her throat choked her. She hung up. Her eyes were burning.
For several long minutes she remained slumped against the tree, until the ache in her chest subsided. She wiped her
eyes with her sleeve. Exhaustion was piling up, dragging at her nerves. She was in no state to deal with this.
As Daniela put her phone away, her fingers touched the twist of paper she’d found in Henry’s cabin. She brought the paper out and smoothed it flat again. Whose number was it? Did it have any connection with Henry? It could’ve lain undisturbed and irrelevant in that cabin for months.
One way to find out.
It took Daniela two attempts to dial the number. The numbers on the paper were difficult to read. On her first try, she got the tone that indicated the number wasn’t recognised. On the second attempt it rang.
Daniela peered around the tree, towards the road, watching for headlights. The dial tone burred in her ear. Chances were no one would answer. It was late in the evening. Whoever the number belonged to was likely busy—
‘Hello?’ a woman answered, voice fuzzed with sleep. The line clicked like a long-distance call.
‘Hey. Who’s this?’
A moment of silence. ‘You called me, so who the hell are you, and why are you calling at—? Christ, the actual middle of the night.’
Daniela’s insides had frozen.
‘Franklyn?’ she asked.
35
June 2010
Both Daniela and Leo froze at the sound of Henry’s voice. Daniela came to life first. She broke away and scurried for the front door of the antiques shop.
Leo called to his dad, ‘It’s all right, it’s just me!’
‘Leo? What’re you—?’
A table blocked Daniela’s path. She scrambled over it and ran for the front door, colliding with furniture, bruising her legs and arms in her haste.
Henry heard her and started shouting.
At the door, Daniela raised her foot and kicked the lock twice, no longer caring about stealth. The metal frame bent and the glass of the top panel cracked diagonally. Two more kicks burst the door open and spilled Daniela out onto the street.
Henry shoved through the maze of furniture. Above, lights flared in the upstairs windows of the McKearney house.
Daniela sprinted away. Before she’d covered a dozen yards, she heard a squeal of tyres from somewhere behind. The headlights of a car slashed across her, flinging her shadow up the nearest wall.
Who the hell was that? Could Henry have got his car out so quickly?
The car sounded loud as a tank as it came after her.
The main street was long and straight, with terraced houses on either side. The nearest junction was a hundred feet away. There weren’t even any gardens Daniela could duck into. She swore as she ran. There was nowhere to go.
The car overtook her, then veered across her path. It mounted the kerb ten feet in front of her. Daniela skidded to a halt. Before she could spin around, the driver yelled through the open window.
‘Dani!’
Daniela stopped. She took a step backwards. She knew she should keep running, but her heart was pounding so hard it felt like her chest would burst.
The car door was kicked open and Stephanie stepped out.
Daniela backed away, hands raised in surrender or innocence. Her mind raced for a plausible explanation for why the hell she’d been in the shop.
‘Steph—’ she started to say.
Stephanie grabbed her and threw her against the wall of the nearest house. The force knocked out what little breath Daniela had left.
‘You idiot,’ Stephanie hissed.
‘I didn’t—’
Stephanie slammed her into the wall again. Daniela’s head smacked the brickwork. Dazed, with blood in her mouth, Daniela could only feel amazement, because Stephanie had never raised her hand against any of them, not once.
‘Tell me what you think you were doing,’ Stephanie said.
Daniela couldn’t think of anything that would help, so she kept silent.
Stephanie made a quick, efficient frisk of Daniela’s pockets. She found the phone, the cigarette lighter, and the wallet. Somehow, she missed the gold rings tucked in the back pocket of Daniela’s jeans. Daniela tried not to tense. Stephanie would find the knife. It was too much to hope that she’d overlook it. Daniela couldn’t meet Stephanie’s eyes. Her sister’s anger radiated like a heat haze.
The door to the antiques shop was swinging slowly closed. There was no sign of Henry yet. Daniela hoped Leo was trying to stall him.
Stephanie’s hand paused over the breast pocket of Daniela’s jacket. Daniela felt the shape of the folded knife pressing against her through the fabric. She closed her eyes as Stephanie reached into the pocket.
Stephanie let go of her. Daniela opened her eyes and looked up, then at the object Stephanie held. It was a slim pen-torch.
‘Want to tell me what you were doing?’ Stephanie asked.
Daniela couldn’t answer because she was staring at the torch. It was roughly the same size, shape and weight as the flick-knife, and looked a lot like the torch Auryn kept on the shelf above her old bed … Through the thickness of the jacket, she hadn’t noticed the difference. But someone had swapped it, someone—
‘Well?’ Stephanie asked.
‘I – how’d you know I was there?’
Stephanie pushed her against the wall, at arm’s length, as if debating whether to slap her. Daniela flinched but didn’t raise a defence. She couldn’t believe Stephanie would hit her. Besides, Daniela was too busy trying to catch her breath.
It wasn’t just the sprint that’d winded her. Residual adrenaline made her hands shake, and acid burned in her stomach. Nothing she could say would get her out of this. But if the knife had been in her pocket, she couldn’t imagine what Stephanie would’ve done.
‘Who told you I was here?’ Daniela asked.
Stephanie let go of her and shoved the phone and other possessions into Daniela’s hands. ‘Get in the car.’
‘Who was it?’
Before Stephanie could answer, the door to the shop banged open. Henry McKearney strode out. In his right hand, he carried a golf club.
‘Shit,’ Stephanie said under her breath. ‘Get in the car, Dani.’
Henry hoisted the golf club to his shoulder like he was striding up to the ninth tee. He pointed a finger at the broken door. ‘What the fuck is that about?’ he asked.
Stephanie moved to intercept him. Deliberately or not, it put Daniela behind her, protected by her bulk. ‘Calm down, Henry.’
‘Don’t tell me to calm down. Look what that girl’s done to my shop.’
He was still advancing. Stephanie held out one hand. The other rested on the extendable baton at her belt. ‘Stay there, please. Don’t come any closer.’
Henry stopped a few yards away. He lowered the club so it hung loose at his side. He narrowed his gaze at Daniela. ‘What were you doing in my shop?’ he asked. ‘What did you take this time?’
Behind him, Leo came out through the broken front door, leaning against the shattered frame. Stephanie caught his eye and tried to indicate that he should keep out of this. But Henry caught the glance and turned.
‘Get back in the house,’ Henry shouted at his son. ‘I told you.’
Stephanie used the moment to step closer. She drew the baton and extended it with a sharp wrist-flick. ‘You need to calm down and get rid of the golf club,’ she told Henry. ‘You hear me? Put it down.’
‘All I’m doing is protecting what’s mine,’ Henry said. His face darkened. ‘My life is falling apart because of your family.’
‘Put down the club, Henry. Now, please.’
Henry pointed at Daniela. ‘You’re all the same. Every single one of your family. A bunch of thieving, immoral bitches.’
‘Hey!’ Daniela couldn’t keep quiet. She clenched her fists.
Stephanie blocked her way. ‘Will you get in the car, Dani? You’re not—’
Faster than anyone anticipated, Henry swung the club. It was a wide, sweeping arc, starting low and driving up to head height, like a weight on a string. Stephanie was half-turned, her attention on Daniela, and on
ly saw it coming a fraction too late. She’d just started to raise her arm in defence when the club struck the underside of her jaw.
The force snapped her head back. Stephanie spun as she fell, hitting the ground face first, out cold before she landed.
36
There was a moment of stillness after Stephanie fell. To Daniela it felt like an age. She’d never seen anyone laid out like that. It seemed impossible. She expected Stephanie to get up immediately. In a moment Steph would stand up and shake it off and …
Stephanie didn’t get up. She lay on her front with eyes and mouth half-open. Blood drooled onto the tarmac from the corner of her mouth.
Daniela let out a hoarse, inarticulate cry, and threw herself at Henry. In that instant she didn’t care about the club. She tackled Henry, knocking him back against Stephanie’s car, then threw a hasty punch. Henry twisted aside and the blow missed. Daniela was left off-balance and exposed. Before she could recover, a left-handed punch pistoned into her ribs, winding her. A second punch caught the side of her head.
Somehow, she stayed on her feet, in time to see the golf club coming at her face. She jerked out of the way. The club head whistled past her nose.
‘Stop it!’ Leo yelled. He grabbed his dad’s arm and tried to drag him away.
Henry shoved him aside. He pointed that warning finger at Leo again. ‘Why can’t you stay out of this?’
‘Leave her alone,’ Leo said. His eyes were wide with shock at seeing his dad like this. ‘She’s done nothing.’
‘You know exactly what she’s done. What her whole lying family’s done. I won’t let them take you from me.’
Leo had his phone in his hand and, with eyes still fixed on his father, he thumbed three numbers into the keypad.
‘What’re you doing?’ Henry demanded. ‘Cut that out!’
Leo held the phone to his ear and said in a clear, calm voice, ‘Police, please.’
Henry slapped the phone from his hand. It clattered to the ground and Henry caught it under his boot. He ground his heel until the screen splintered.
The Flood Page 21
