Double Cross (38 page)

'Tobey, Callie's here,' Mum called out from downstairs.

Five days had passed since McAuley had been shot. And
my friend Dan Jeavons was wanted for his murder, as well
as the murders of two other men who worked for
McAuley. But Dan was still on the run and the police
hadn't tracked him down. Yet. The DCI in charge of the
case insisted that it was not a question of
if
Dan got caught
but
when.
And all I could do was hope that Dan kept his
head down and never stopped moving. And all I could do
was wish he would stop running and give himself up, just
to find some peace.

If it wasn't for him . . .

Dan and me. We were friends. Once.

Gideon Dowd and DCI Reid had both been arrested
and charged on several different counts. I'd thought DCI
Reid would be done for gross misconduct and kicked off
the police force and that would be the end of that, but
not so. The authorities wanted her skin, not to mention
all her internal organs in a pickle jar. The deputy commissioner,
no less, was at pains to assure the public that DCI
Reid, if found guilty of the charges levelled against her,
would be going to prison. The police were obviously on
a roll. They'd even got Vanessa Dowd on a charge of tax
evasion – not that she cared. She was still openly grieving
over the death of her daughter Rebecca. The fatal stabbing
had been all over the newspapers and the TV. Everyone
seemed to be judging Rebecca and the circumstances of
her death by the infamy of the rest of her family. She
didn't deserve that. The press were still trying to establish
a link between her death and the death of Alex McAuley
as everyone knew about the enmity between the two
factions. There was even speculation that Dan had been
working for the Dowds.

My name hadn't been mentioned anywhere.

So Alex McAuley was out of the picture. And Owen
Dowd now occupied the whole frame. Two days ago, I
received a banker's cheque for a lot of money. Owen
hadn't sent me a personal cheque – that'd be too easy to
trace – but he'd sent me the money just as he had said he
would. It arrived in an ordinary envelope with a first class
stamp. And if the cheque had gone astray? Well, Owen
had plenty more where that came from. Just touching the
slip of paper made me feel unclean. I folded up the cheque
just as small as I could, but I couldn't make it disappear. I
went for a long walk to try and clear my head, dropping
the cheque into the first charity collection box I came
across. But I still felt contaminated.

Owen Dowd . . .

Not the outcome I would've hoped for as far as he was
concerned. None of this was what I'd hoped for. I read a
story once about a king who was greedy enough to wish
that everything he touched turned to gold. Well, thanks to
my desire for money and then revenge, everything I'd
touched had turned to crap. I wasn't about to touch
anyone I cared about ever again. Dan was right about me.
So was Sephy. And Lucas. Everyone saw me more clearly
than I saw myself.

I swung my legs off my bed to head downstairs. Too
late. My door opened and Callie walked in. Her hair was
loose, falling like a dark cloud around her face and shoulders
and covering the scar on her temple. But in time, her
scar would heal. She'd lost weight, but she was still the
most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. She was wearing a
white dress and white sandals and my insides started
hiccupping at the sight of her. I remembered the last time
Callie had been in my room. That'd been the first, last and
only time in my entire life I'd been truly one hundred per
cent happy. But that was another lifetime ago. And now I
was broken inside.

Callie walked towards me and I froze. She reached out,
her fingers brushing against the now permanent scar on my
cheek, courtesy of McAuley. Her touch made my skin tingle.

'Your eye is a bit puffy and yellow,' she said softly.
'Does it hurt?'

I pulled away from her. 'I'll live.'

Callie's hand dropped to her side. 'Who did that to
you?' she asked, indicating my face.

'Callie, I haven't got time to talk to you now. I was just
on my way out.'

'Can I come?'

'No,' I said, pulling on my trainers. 'I have a date.'

'With who?'

'Misty.'

'I see,' said Callie. She studied my carpet as if she'd
never seen it before.

'Why did you want to see me?' I prompted as I stood
up. I had to get her out of my room. Seeing her like this
was doing my head in.

'I came to tell you that Mum has invited you to come
with us tomorrow to Bharadia and Hammond.'

'To who and what?' I frowned.

'Bharadia and Hammond. They're Nana Jasmine's
solicitors,' Callie explained. 'We're going to hear Nana's
will being read. Mum says you can share our car. We're
leaving at two tomorrow afternoon.'

'Why do I need to be there?'

'You're mentioned in Nana's will,' said Callie.

I frowned at her. 'Why?'

She shrugged. 'No idea.'

Silence.

'Tobey, I was sorry to hear about what happened to
your friend, Rebecca.'

I shrugged.

'Are the police any closer to finding out who did it?'

I shook my head. 'They'll never find out who's
responsible.'

'You mustn't give up hope,' said Callie.

Hope? What was that? Every day was like standing at
the gateway to hell. The knife McAuley had used on
Rebecca hadn't been found on his body, so he'd obviously
disposed of it before he got to his warehouse. They would
never find it now. Rebecca's death would remain an
unsolved mystery, at least officially.

'Callie, have you remembered anything about the
day . . . the day you got shot?' I asked.

Callie shook her head. I waited for her to say more, but
she was silent. So she probably still didn't remember the
night before the shooting either. She didn't remember the
two of us together. I smiled bitterly. I didn't even have
that to silently, secretly share with her. The memory was
mine and mine alone.

'Tell me something,' I began. 'If you found out who
shot you, what would you do?'

Callie flinched at my question, her gaze sharp. 'Tobey,
d'you know who it was?'

I shrugged. 'It's just a hypothetical question.'

'Then my hypothetical answer is – I don't know,' Callie
replied. 'I'd probably tell the police and get them arrested
and sent to prison.'

'And if they were above the law?'

'No one is above the law.' Callie frowned.

I looked at her pityingly.

'OK, then. No one should be above the law.'

'What should be and what actually is are two
completely different things,' I said with derision. 'The
Equal Rights bill should've been made law decades ago,
not a week ago. We shouldn't've had to wait for a bent
copper in a gang-leader's pocket to be found out before
the police started cracking down on the gangs taking over
Meadowview.'

'Well, the law is man-made so of course it's going to be
fallible,' said Callie. 'But there is such a thing as justice.
Justice isn't the same as the law.'

'So what would you do to make sure you got justice, if
you knew the person who'd shot you was above the law?'
I persisted.

Callie shrugged. At my impatient look, she exclaimed,
'I really don't know, Tobey. I'd want revenge, of course I
would. I'm human. But the desire for revenge is like
hatred or anger, it eats away at you. And I should know.'

'And what if it was your mum or Meggie who got
shot?' I asked.

Why was I doing this? Maybe I just needed to hear her
say that what I'd done was not correct, but it was right,
that it wasn't lawful, but it was justice and she would've
done the same.

'I honestly don't know, Tobey,' Callie sighed. 'Why?'

I shrugged. 'I was only wondering, that's all. It doesn't
matter.'

I tried to step past her, but she moved to stand in my
way.

'Tobey, you and Misty? Is it serious?'

'Very,' I instantly replied.

'I see.'

This time she let me pass. I opened my bedroom door
for her to leave first. As she walked past me, I inhaled
deeply but discreetly. Callie didn't smell of my perfume
any more.

'I'll see you tomorrow at two,' I confirmed.

Callie headed back downstairs with me following
behind. I stretched out my hand towards the back of her
head. Was her hair as soft as I remembered? I forced my
hand back to my side.

'Oh, before I forget, I think this belongs to you,' Callie
dug into one of the pockets on her dress and held out the
letter I'd sent to her, the one with all the information
about McAuley's shipments. 'Am I right? Is this yours?'

I nodded, wondering what she had made of the information
on the sheets of paper. Had she read it? Did she
believe I worked for McAuley? I wasn't about to ask.

'I'm afraid I opened it as it was addressed to me, but I
stopped reading when I realized what it was,' she told me.
'I thought maybe it was sent to me for safe-keeping?'

I didn't answer.

'I take it you don't want me to hold onto it?'

'No. I'll take it,' I replied.

'Tobey, what happened when I was in hospital?'

'The Earth went round the sun. The tides ebbed and
flowed. Life carried on,' I replied evenly.

Callie lowered her gaze momentarily. 'I'd better get
back.'

'See you, Callie.'

'Bye, Tobey.'

Callie headed back to her house. I set off in the opposite
direction. A conversation I'd had with my sister a
while ago kept playing in my head. Jess told me that
I'd never understand her until I experienced what all
miserable, lonely, unhappy people shared. Only now had
I finally figured out what she meant. Failure. I couldn't
bear to look at myself in the mirror any more. I was
someone I no longer recognized. I thought I could take
my revenge on McAuley and emerge unscathed at the end
of it. I had failed.

I thought about the stuff I'd poured down McAuley's
throat and the gun I'd held against his temple. In that
moment, I'd wanted so badly to hurt him. No, that's not
true. I'd wanted to
kill
him. And if it had been anyone else
but Dan who'd entered the office, by now I'd be a
murderer. Who was I kidding? Rebecca was dead because
of me, as was Byron. McAuley should've been dead
because of me. The drugs I'd made him swallow would've
done the job sooner rather than later. Dan had merely put
him out of his misery.

Five people dead because of me. Rebecca. Byron.
McAuley. The two guards Dan had shot . . .

I
was
a murderer. Now I truly knew who and what I
was. No one should ever find out for certain exactly what
they're capable of. It left you with no place to hide.

I walked around the block, then headed back home.

Mr Bharadia's conference room was truly impressive. The
oval mahogany table was solid wood, not just mahogany
veneer. At least I think it was, I'm no expert. I glanced
under the table. The legs were carved like birds' claws on
a stand. The ten chairs around the table all matched each
other and had the same design on the front legs. The back
legs were plain. The backs of each chair were also intricately
carved . . .

Tobey, what're you doing?

I mentally shook my head. I knew exactly what I was
up to. I was trying to take in everything in the room so
that I wouldn't have to think about the one thing I was
desperate to avoid. Callie Rose. She sat next to me,
watching me with puzzled eyes. She was still trying to
figure out what was wrong.

We all sat, waiting for Mr Bharadia to make an
appearance. Minerva and Sephy were discussing Sephy's
forthcoming wedding to Nathan, talking about the best
places to buy a wedding dress. I wished Callie would join
in their conversation. That way I wouldn't have to speak
to her. Deciding to make myself scarce until the solicitor
put in an appearance, I tried to stand up, but Callie's hand
on my arm stopped me.

'Tobey, we need to talk,' she said softly.

Which was just what I was afraid of.

'How come I've hardly seen you since I've been home?'
Callie's voice was barely above a whisper as she tried to
keep the conversation strictly between us. Unlike Misty,
she didn't believe in making a scene.

'I've been busy.'

'Too busy to even come round and say hello?'

'I've been busy.'

Callie looked at me, hurt clouding her eyes. 'Have I
done something to upset you?'

''Course not.'

'Then why won't you even look at me?'

I turned to glare at her, my expression pure biting frost.

She flinched. 'Tobey, what have I done? Why am I
getting the treatment?'

'Godsake, Callie. Can we just get through the will
reading without all this drama?'

'Tobey . . .'

'Callie, leave me alone. For God's sake, just leave
me alone.'

The whole room went quiet. I jumped up and left
the room before I did something incredibly stupid –
like holding Callie and telling her the truth. I hid out
in the men's loos until after the meeting was scheduled
to start. It was the only way I could make sure that Callie
and I didn't enter into the same conversation again. I
went into the meeting room, grimly pleased to see that
the solicitor had arrived and everyone else was waiting
for me.

I sat down again, drawing my chair away from Callie as
I did so. Callie kept looking at me, and I kept pretending
I didn't see her. The solicitor started spouting some
legalese which had me zoning out in seconds. I didn't
even know what I was doing here. So Jasmine Hadley had
mentioned me in her will. So what? She was probably
using this opportunity to warn Callie off or something.
This was a complete waste of time.

'Mr Bharadia, could you skip over all the legal jargon,
please?' said Sephy, interrupting the solicitor's flow. 'I'm
sure everyone here would rather just get to it.'

Apart from a slight tightening of his lips, Mr Bharadia's
expression didn't change. He was too much of a professional
for that. 'Very well, Miss Hadley. I'll get to the
details of the will as you've requested.'

'How long before Mum died did she draw up this will?'
asked Callie's aunt Minerva.

'Er, three . . . just a moment.' Mr Bharadia checked the
top of the will and another document in the pile of papers
before him. 'Yes, three weeks.'

The solicitor was obviously the kind of man who didn't
yawn without confirming its date and validity first.

'Three weeks?' Minerva said slowly. 'So when she
drafted this, she knew her cancer was terminal?'

Mr Bharadia frowned. 'I believe so.'

Terminal? I didn't know Jasmine Hadley's cancer had
come back and was terminal.

'Minerva, what difference does it make?' Sephy asked
her sister.

'I just wondered, that's all,' Minerva replied.

The solicitor turned to Minerva first and told her that
she and her husband had been left a substantial six-figure
sum and that half that sum again had been left in trust for
their son Taj, which he would obtain when he was
twenty-five years old. Minerva's husband was already a
very rich man, but now they were richer. Taj was a lucky
boy. How lovely to grow up knowing you had all that
money waiting for you. I couldn't even begin to imagine
what that would be like. Well, actually I could imagine. I
could dream, just like everyone else. Minerva nodded at
the solicitor, her face sombre.

Mr Bharadia turned to Meggie. 'Mrs Hadley wrote this
letter one week before her death. She asked that it be read
out to you before I tell you how much you've been left.'

Meggie nodded, but didn't speak.

Dear Meggie,

You and I were friends a long time
ago, and giving up your friendship was one
of the biggest mistakes of my life. I made
a mistake and then lived in denial for years,
blaming you instead of looking in the mirror
for the real author of my misery. I really feel
that we'd started to get back to the
relationship we had when our children
were young – as were we. I hope so. Please
know that I think of you as probably the
truest friend I ever had. No amount of money
will ever make up for all the pain and
suffering you've been forced to endure in your
life. No amount of money will ever bring
back what you lost, but I hope that the gift
I leave you will at least ensure that the rest
of your days are spent in some comfort.

Your friend, always,

Jasmine

Mr Bharadia stopped reading the letter and turned back
to the will. When he announced how much money
Meggie had been left, a collective gasp sounded through
the room. She'd been bequeathed the same amount as
Minerva. It was six figures and one hell of a lot. Enough
to buy a new house outside Meadowview and still have
enough to live life as she pleased. I regarded Meggie, but
her expression didn't change. Was it more or less than
she'd hoped for? Maybe she'd got past the stage of hoping
for anything at all.

Mr Bharadia turned to Sephy. '
To my daughter, Sephy,
I leave my two houses, all their contents and all attached
lands to do with as she sees fit. I truly hope that Sephy will
use this legacy to make her life easier – something she has
never been particularly good at in the past.
'

Sephy smiled faintly at the last comment.

I knew for a fact that Jasmine's house by the beach was
worth a whole roomful of currency just by itself. I didn't
know about her second home, but whatever it was worth,
Sephy was a very rich woman.

'Sephy, will you be moving into Jasmine's house now?'
asked Meggie quietly.

Sephy regarded Meggie, then smiled. 'Not without
you,' she replied. 'I'm not living anywhere without you.'

The relief on Meggie's face was very evident. She
looked far happier about that than about the money she'd
been left.

The solicitor turned to Sarah Pike, Jasmine Hadley's
personal secretary for years and the only other non-family
member present. '
To my loyal personal assistant, Sarah
Pike, I leave the sum of two hundred and fifty thousand
pounds plus my black WMW which she has always
admired.
' Sarah allowed herself a big smile, followed by a
small sigh.

Well, apart from Callie and myself, everyone in the
room had been taken care of. Had Callie's nana left her
anything? None of us had to wait long to find out. Mr
Bharadia turned to Callie. '
To my darling granddaughter,
Callie Rose Hadley, I leave all my stocks, shares, bonds and other
equity. The portfolio will be professionally maintained for her
until she marries or reaches the age of twenty-five, whichever
comes sooner. My fervent hope is that she will not let this
money spoil her and will use it to do some good, but the choice
is hers.
' Mr Bharadia looked around the table. All eyes
were on him, but no one spoke. 'Oh, I beg your pardon!'
He started flicking through the papers before him, whilst
muttering to himself. 'Ah! Here it is. As of the close of the
stock market yesterday, the portfolio is worth . . . two
million. That's it. Two million pounds, give or take the
odd thousand.'

What was the odd thousand between friends? I stared at
Callie. Two million . . . Callie was super rich. She turned
to me, shock written large on her face.

'Congratulations,' I said softly.

Someone had taken an acetylene torch to my insides.
Callie was rich. I wasn't. And that was the end of that. I
hung my head, trying to come to terms with the fact that I
was going to lose the one person I cared most about in this
world. What was I thinking? I'd lost her long before today,
and ironically money had had nothing to do with it.

'To Tobey Durbridge, I say this,'
Mr Bharadia
continued.

My head shot up. Jasmine Hadley had left me a
message?

'Tobey, I know you'll think me an interfering old
woman, but age brings certain busybody benefits. In fact,
that's about the only positive thing that age does bring.
I've decided to stick my nose into your life for my own
selfish reasons. Call it my way of atoning for past mistakes
if you will. Years ago I had the chance to help someone
like you, and to my shame I stood back and did nothing. I'm
determined not to let that happen again. Tobey, I
want you to finish school and go to university. I want you
to make something of your life. Never take no for an
answer. Never let doors slammed in your face stop you from
moving forward. Grasp life and every opportunity
presented to you with both hands. I've watched you over
the years and I know how much my granddaughter means
to you. So I'll make you a deal. I've set up a savings
account in your name. You will be allowed to withdraw
up to twenty-five thousand pounds each year whilst you
are at school and university. On satisfactory completion of
your education, any monies left in the savings account will
be yours to save or spend as you wish.'

I stared at Mr Bharadia, convinced his monotone voice
had put me to sleep and I was now dreaming.

'Would you like to know the total amount in the
savings account?' asked the solicitor.

I nodded, still stunned. Mr Bharadia flicked through
some papers underneath the will he was reading. 'Let's see.
Three hundred thousand pounds, plus interest.'

'Mum left Tobey three hundred thousand . . . ?'
Minerva couldn't believe it. She wasn't the only one.

'Plus interest,' Mr Bharadia added.

Jasmine Hadley had left me all that money? All the
things I'd been through in the last few weeks, all the things
I'd done . . . And I had that kind of money waiting for me
all this time.

'I don't want it. Any of it,' I said furiously. 'Give it
to Callie. Split it between the lot of you. I don't want
a penny.'

'Don't be silly, Tobey. That's your money,' said Callie.
'Nana Jasmine wanted you to have it.'

'Not interested. Excuse me.' I got up and headed for
the door before anyone could stop me.

Once outside, I kept going. I headed out of the office
and along the corridor towards the lift. I pressed the
button.

'Tobey . . . Tobey, wait.' Callie came running after me.

Where the hell was the frickin' lift?

'Tobey, what's wrong?' Callie asked, laying her hand on
my arm. The warmth of her hand singed my skin.

I drew away from her. 'You should get back in there,'
I said.

'Not without you.'

'You belong in there with your family.'

'You're my family too.'

I couldn't take much more. The lift was taking for ever
to arrive.

'Callie, go back where you belong,' I told her, heading
for the stairs without looking back.

Even though we were fifteen storeys up, I just wanted
to run down the stairs and out of the building and to keep
going. I wanted to run and run until I left myself somewhere
far behind.

'Tobey, wait,' Callie called out, coming down the stairs
after me.

'Godsake, Callie. Can't you take a hint? I don't want
you with me.'

'I don't believe you.'

I grabbed hold of her arms and pulled her hard towards
me, her face only centimetres away from mine. 'I've got
what I wanted from you and your family,' I said, adding
viciously, 'You were an OK lay and your grandmother has
left me a great deal of money. I don't need you or anyone
else any more. So do me a favour and get lost. Or better
still, run back to your mum and aunt and get them to
contest the will.'

I released her and she stumbled backwards, rubbing at
her arms where my fingers had bitten into her flesh. Her
eyes were shimmering with tears, but none of them fell. I
forced myself to look straight at her so she'd get the
message. I clenched my fists, despising myself for hurting
her. Just despising myself. And even though my insides
were churning, even though my throat was so swollen I
could hardly breathe and my heart was being squeezed by
a merciless hand, I was careful to make sure that none of
that showed on my face.