The Girls in the Lake: An addictive and gripping crime thriller (Beth Adams Book 2)

by Helen Phifer

  ‘I was wondering if you knew of anyone who had an old-fashioned, wooden rowing boat they may keep moored here.’

  His eyes narrowed as he thought about it. He began to shake his head. ‘Not really, apart from the one the arse that owns the big party boat sometimes uses.’

  Beth sipped her coffee. ‘The Tequila Sunrise?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s the one. It’s the only rowing boat around here like that. There’s plenty further around by the pier. You can hire them by the hour, although I wouldn’t recommend it this time of year. It’s too cold. It’s terrible about those two women they pulled out of the lake, isn’t it?’

  ‘Tragic.’

  ‘Rumour has it they came off the party boat. He needs his licence taking off him. If two people had died coming out of this pub the council would have shut us down in the blink of an eye.’

  Beth couldn’t agree more. Taking out her phone, she began to search the Internet for information on the owner of the boat, but her Wi-Fi signal wasn’t strong enough. Finishing her coffee, Beth stood up; everything pointed to James Marshall. She needed to speak to Josh and tell him what she knew; hopefully between them they could put an end to these senseless deaths.

  Her phone rang and she answered the private number.

  ‘Doctor Adams.’

  There was a slight pause and then a quiet voice said, ‘My name is Jude Williams; I used to be Foster. I believe you rang the school wanting to talk to me.’

  Beth had almost given up on hearing back from anyone.

  ‘I did. Is it convenient to talk? We can chat on the phone, or I can come to you.’

  ‘I’d rather speak now. I don’t want to bother my husband with whatever this might be about.’

  Beth realised that she probably hadn’t told him she’d been in charge of a group of boys when one drowned. She walked away from the bar, tucking her phone under her ear and sat at a table as far away from the other couple as she could.

  ‘Now is fine, I appreciate you phoning me back. I’m investigating three drownings in the lake, and when I was researching previous drownings a news article popped up about Tyler Johnson. I was wondering if you could tell me what happened?’

  There was a sharp laugh on the other end of the line. ‘I wish I knew. Did you read the article? There really isn’t much more to tell.’

  ‘I understand, but I’d really like to hear what happened in your own words. It really is just research; I can assure you it’s nothing more than that.’ There was a lengthy pause and for a moment Beth wondered if she’d hung up on her. The voice on the end of the phone began to talk, though now there was more background noise than before.

  ‘Sorry, I’ve come out to the car. I don’t want Michael to hear this; it’s not my proudest moment. There were nine boys that day on the geography field trip. It was really just an excuse for a day out though; it was hot, they’d finished their exams and I’d had enough of sitting in stuffy classrooms. I thought it would be nice to have a little trip to Fell Foot, buy ice creams, let them mess around and burn off some of that teenage energy. I never told them they could go into the water. Even if they’d asked, I never would have given them permission. One of them just decided it would be a good idea to race across the lake and they all jumped in at the same time. I was mortified. You know what it’s like, risk assessments until they come out of your ears. Well, there was nothing in place for nine fifteen-year-olds going for a swim. I screamed at them to get out of the water.’

  ‘I’m guessing they never heard you, or didn’t listen.’

  ‘Oh, they heard me all right. I was frantic. There was so much splashing and noise it was hard to keep track of them all. Tyler and his twin brother Marcus got into a bit of a scuffle with another boy, James, in the water over some girl they’d all taken a liking to. Ethan said he’d tried his best to split them up, bless him. He took it very hard, almost as hard as I did. I never particularly liked James; in fact he was a bit of a bully. His parents were by far the wealthiest in the group and he wasn’t ashamed of flaunting it whenever he could. He let his father buy him out of many a scuffle. It was a disgrace really, but back then I was young and very impressionable. I should have been much stricter with the boys; maybe if I hadn’t let them walk all over me Tyler would still be alive.

  ‘When they finally reached the lakeside and climbed out the other side, I counted them off one by one and realised Tyler was missing. I counted them again, praying to God I’d counted wrong. That was when I realised something terrible had happened.’

  There was a loud sob, and Beth felt bad for making the poor woman drag it all back up again.

  ‘It wasn’t your fault.’

  ‘Wasn’t it? If I’d stayed at the school, it would never have happened. I’ve had to live with that day, and it hasn’t been easy.’

  Beth thought about the things she’d had to live with and felt nothing but compassion for the woman.

  ‘Thank you, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Yeah, me too.’

  ‘How did the boys cope after that? Marcus, Tyler’s twin, must have been in a terrible state?’

  ‘I thought they’d all blame one another and distance themselves from each other. They didn’t though, they stuck together. If anything, it brought them closer. James took Marcus and Ethan under his wing; those three boys spent all their spare time together. Look, I have to go. Was there anything else?’

  ‘Just one thing, can you tell me the full names of the boys on the field trip?’

  Jude began to recite the boys’ names, though they meant nothing to Beth: ‘Ethan Scales, Marcus Johnson…’, until she said, ‘and James Marshall.’

  Her pulse began to race at the mention of James Marshall.

  ‘That’s very helpful. Thank you for your time. I’m sorry to have dragged up so many unpleasant memories for you.’

  The line went dead, and she stared out of the window that overlooked the darkened marina, the rows of boats out there in the dark swaying in the wind. This was more than just coincidence.

  Sixty-Three

  Ethan left the police station; he had no car and was going to have to see if there was a bus this time of night to get him back home. It was doubtful on a Sunday night, but he didn’t fancy the walk. He felt better now he was out in the fresh air, crossing the car park with his hands tucked in his pockets and head down against the wind. A car horn blared behind him, making him jump. He turned to give whoever it was a piece of his mind and was surprised to see the pretty girl, Grace Thomas, from last night grinning at him. She put her window down.

  ‘Fancy seeing you here. Wait a minute, you’re not a copper, are you?’

  He shook his head. ‘God, no. Definitely not.’ He didn’t want to tell her why he was here. She looked even lovelier today than she had last night. Her face was clear of make-up and her long hair was piled up on the top of her head in a messy bun.

  ‘I lost my car keys. I came to see if anyone had handed them in.’

  ‘Oh no, what a shame they don’t do lost and found any more. You’ve had a wasted journey. Where is your car?’

  ‘Back home, I was just passing anyway.’

  ‘I’m just dropping something off for my mum. Where are you going?’

  He felt bad when the lies tripped off his tongue so easily. ‘I was supposed to be meeting a friend to grab a bite to eat, but he’s messaged to say he can’t get here now so I’m just going home.’

  ‘Why don’t you jump in? I’m starving so we could go get something then I’ll give you a lift home. If you’re not doing anything else, that is.’

  Ethan couldn’t believe his luck. ‘That would be amazing, thank you, Grace.’

  He opened the passenger door and she swept an empty crisp packet, handbag and a pair of headphones onto the floor. ‘Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess. I haven’t had time to clean it.’

  ‘You should see my cabin, it’s not much better.’

  She parked the car, but left the engine running with the heater blasting warm air o
nto his face. If there was a God then his prayers had been answered. He’d so hoped to see Grace again and never imagined for a minute it would be so soon.

  Five minutes later she was rushing out of the doors back to the car.

  ‘God, she’s a complete psycho at times; she does nothing but moan about what I’m doing and who I’m with.’

  He laughed. ‘Who?’

  ‘My mother, she works here.’

  ‘I’m sure it’s because she loves you.’

  ‘It may well be, but she still gets on my nerves. Where should we go for something to eat?’

  ‘What do you fancy?’

  She looked him straight in the eye. ‘You.’

  He felt a rush of warmth flood his cheeks and laughed. She’d seemed so quiet last night. Wasn’t alcohol supposed to free your inhibitions? Maybe she’d felt a little out of her depth with all the rich kids. He knew that feeling all too well. Looking at her, he didn’t quite know what to say.

  ‘I suppose we could get a pizza and go back to my place, but it’s not up to much and according to my friend James it stinks.’

  She laughed. ‘James sounds like a right charmer. I’m sure it’s not that bad. Pizza sounds great. I’d say we could go to mine, but my little sister is there with her friend and I can’t take any more Justin Bieber YouTube video sing-alongs.’

  He laughed too. ‘I can’t say I blame you; pizza and my cabin by the lake it is then.’

  She reached out, patting his hand. ‘Perfect.’

  Sixty-Four

  When the phone on Josh’s desk rang with news that James Marshall’s solicitor, Oliver Millen, was here, he was seriously impressed. The Marshalls must have more money than even he’d imagined, for them to have a solicitor arrive so fast on a dreary Sunday evening. He’d gone downstairs and signed him in, then led him through to the custody suite. Both Marshall and Johnson had been taken through there to the formal interview rooms. Both had an officer waiting with them until their legal representation arrived. Johnson hadn’t specified a particular one so he would get the duty solicitor, who would not be arriving here so fast.

  Josh and Sam made their way through the station to where Marshall was being held. With a solicitor beside him, it would be ‘no comment’ from here on in from James, but they had to press him, nonetheless.

  The door opened and the solicitor stuck his head out.

  ‘We’re ready now.’

  Josh shook his hand and introduced both himself and Sam. He glanced over at James Marshall, who still looked as calm and cool about the whole situation as when he’d been approached at the marina earlier. All of them took a seat except for Marshall, who was already sitting down. Josh turned the tape on and did a full introduction. He then read James Marshall the caution. Marshall interrupted partway through.

  ‘Hang on a minute, you said this was a friendly chat about last night. Why am I being cautioned; in fact, why have I been brought into here?’ He threw his arms in the air.

  Sam answered. ‘We did want a friendly chat, but then you asked for legal representation. We had no choice but to make it formal. This is your decision, Mr Marshall. We are only following your wishes.’

  Josh finished the caution. ‘As we said earlier, at the moment we need to ascertain the circumstances surrounding Tamara Smythson’s death.’

  James jumped up, his hands in front of him. ‘Whoa, no one said anything about her being dead. She wasn’t dead last night when she was pulled out of the lake. I don’t know anything about this. It’s nothing to do with me.’

  Millen clamped his hand around James’s arm. ‘Sit down, James, remember what we discussed?’

  Josh knew what was coming next; the age-old dance between criminals and their lawyers.

  ‘She was found deceased just after lunch; we believe it might be as a direct result of her falling off your boat into the water.’

  Millen watched his client keenly. James glanced at him.

  ‘No comment.’

  Josh sighed, not missing the look of relief which passed over Oliver Millen’s face. He continued to ask his questions, every single answer the same.

  ‘No comment.’

  After twenty minutes Oliver held up his hand. ‘Look, DS Walker, I think you’ve got everything you’re going to get. My client has nothing to say. He has no knowledge of the unfortunate events surrounding the girl going into the water. Until you have some evidence to say otherwise this interview is over.’

  He stood up. ‘Do you have any evidence to support my client’s involvement?’

  ‘No, like I said we are just trying to get to the bottom of how Tamara Smythson ended up in the lake.’

  ‘Well he can’t help you. Good evening.’

  Before Josh could reply, James had been ushered out of the interview room. The custody sergeant buzzed the heavy metal door, and Josh tugged it open. He led them along the cold, white corridor to the exit where he then let them out.

  Watching them walk across the car park to Oliver Millen’s expensive Porsche – which was probably paid for by the Marshall family – Josh’s shoulders drooped. He had wanted a better outcome than this, had hoped that Marshall would confess to pushing Tamara into the lake, as well as Leah and Julia. They still had Johnson though; hopefully Paton and Sykes would get a better result.

  Sixty-Five

  After Oliver had dropped James off at his apartment, James had gone straight in to shower, and then dressed in a pair of faded Levi’s and a black roll-neck jumper. It was cold and dark outside, but he needed a break. Then he smiled to himself. No, he needed a woman.

  Oliver had had the audacity to ask him if he knew what was going on and why the police were so keen to pin something on him. He’d shrugged; wasn’t that what they paid him extortionate amounts of money to find out? If his father got wind that he’d been formally interviewed by the police he would probably have a stroke. Best to keep a safe distance from his parents for the time being. Luckily, he had that longing in his groin that could only be satisfied by hot, lustful sex. Was it really less than a week since he’d brought Chloe back here? It felt like months. Smiling at his reflection, he sprayed a generous amount of Bleu de Chanel on his neck and went in search of her.

  The Hydro was deserted, so he crossed the reception area and headed towards the bar. Sitting down, he ordered a glass of wine to be safe; he knew he could drink a couple of bottles and still perform to a satisfactory level in the bedroom.

  ‘Have one yourself,’ he said to the pretty waitress who delivered his drink.

  She smiled at him. ‘Thank you, I’m not allowed on duty though.’

  He looked at her blonde hair which was slicked back in a neat bun. She was pretty, not as pretty as Chloe, but if he couldn’t locate her this one would make a pretty good replacement. ‘I’m looking for Chloe; I don’t know her second name but I know she works here. She’s French. Do you know her?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes, poor Chloe. She’s been very upset since one of our colleagues passed away. They were close. Probably more so because they’re both the same age and Chloe was staying with Leah in Devon on her exchange visit before they came here.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose it is.’

  Another customer appeared at the bar and the waitress went to serve them. He wondered how Ethan had fared at the police station. It wouldn’t have surprised him if he hadn’t sat there bawling like a baby because he was scared. He doubted he’d have been able to afford a decent solicitor either. Maybe he should check in on him, he thought, and then he caught a whiff of a soft, delicate fragrance behind him. Turning slightly, he felt a soft pair of lips brush against his cheek.

  ‘I hear you were looking for me?’

  He smiled at her; she was beautiful. The first few buttons on the top of her shirt were open revealing the soft swell of those magnificent breasts, and he wanted to drag her out of here and to the nearest bedroom now.

  ‘I was, but you’ve found me first. How lucky am I? Would you like a drink?’

  H
e remembered his manners; although he had nothing but sex on his mind he still knew that he’d get a lot more from her if he treated her right. After all, she’d been the first woman in a long time to give him the brush-off. It was time to make her pay for that mistake, but he wasn’t in a rush. The girl from behind the bar smiled at him and he realised she’d probably messaged Chloe to tell her he was looking for her. He smiled back, ordered a bottle of champagne and slipped her a fifty pound tip.

  Sixty-Six

  Beth made it home before the storm broke. It was so gloomy inside the house she went through it switching on lamps both up and downstairs to make it cosy. Dressed in a pair of fluffy pyjamas, she opened the fridge to find something to eat and decided on cheese on toast. Quick and simple. She always kept the wine rack stocked up and for a fleeting moment she almost took a bottle out to pour herself a glass, but she resisted. It was a bad habit: work, home, wine, repeat. Instead, she took a carton of fruit juice and poured a glass of that. Things needed to change; she had to start getting out of the house for something other than work. She’d like to do more running, but it was dangerous this time of year when the roads were dark and not well lit. Swimming was out of the question after recent events. She walked over to the huge glass window that gave her views of the lake. She hadn’t even walked down to the bottom of her garden since that day. Pushing her feet into the pair of boots she kept near the back door, she unlocked it and stepped outside. There was that definite chill in the air which October always brought, coupled with the heavy rain clouds that filled the sky. As a rule, Beth loved this time of year; she loved being able to wear warm jumpers, boots, covering her sometimes-wayward hair with a hat. The darker nights made it much easier to sleep longer, and she enjoyed watching the leaves on the trees turn firecracker red, orange and yellow before they fell to the ground. She hadn’t really thought about all this for so long.