For the Sake of the Children: The first Chloe Webster thriller (Chloe Webster Thrillers Book 1) (12 page)

Chloe set her alarm for the morning and slipped between the clean white sheets of her bed. It wasn’t even ten o’clock yet but the wine she’d enjoyed with her father was now seeking its revenge, and the yawns were coming thick and fast. She also had a good book on the go and always found that reading helped her to relax and take her mind off things. Her mobile shook as it received a call. She looked at the screen. It was Ben. What the hell did he want at this time?

‘Hello Ben. It’s a bit late to be calling now isn’t it? What do you want?’ She didn’t ty to hide her irritation. The last time she spoke to him he acted like an idiot, and she was too old to be messed around like a schoolgirl. As far as she was concerned they’d got on really well that evening at the theatre. There hadn’t been any romantic connotations on the night, but the conversation had been warm and friendly with a hint of flirting on both sides, and she’d definitely felt some kind of connection between them. Maybe she’d read too much into it, but even so, there was no need to be openly hostile with her.

‘Hi Chloe, I know it’s late. Listen, I’m really sorry about earlier. You caught me off guard and I acted like an arsehole. I didn’t mean to upset you.’

‘Oh you didn’t upset me, don’t worry. You can make plans with anyone you want; it’s nothing to do with me.’ The words didn’t come out quite as she had intended and she wondered if it was the effects of the wine.

‘I didn’t realise we were at that stage. I really enjoyed it, but we only went to the theatre.’ He actually sounded quite reasonable and she felt awkward about her clumsy choice of words.

‘Yes. I mean no, we aren’t at that stage. I’m sorry Ben, I’m not stalking you or anything, I just don’t like to be humiliated like that, especially in front of other people. It’s not about you and me, it’s about common decency. I thought we were friends, you know, not just work colleagues. That’s all it was.’ She stood up and walked over to the window. Parting the bright, flowery curtains, she looked out into the darkness.

‘Let me make it up to you. Come out with me tomorrow night. We’ll go anywhere you want; just name it and I promise you’ll have a good time. Come on, let’s forget this and move on.’

Chloe thought about it for a moment. She’d liked him from the minute she bumped into him in the revolving doors on that first morning. He’d also been very supportive at work, and surely everyone deserved a second chance. She closed the curtain and sat on the edge of her bed.

‘Okay, why not? I tell you what, let me show you the sights of Bradmill. Come over at eight and we’ll go and get something to eat in the village. There’s a great pub down there.’

‘I’d love too,’ said Ben, sounding surprisingly excited. ‘See you at eight. And I really am sorry, it won’t happen again.’

‘It had better not. There’ll be no third chance you know,’ she said in a stern voice, only half-jokingly.

They chatted a while longer and then said goodnight. Chloe settled back down into bed and turned out the light. Had she done the right thing? She hoped it wasn’t just the wine talking and that she wasn’t going to wake up in the morning regretting what she’d just agreed to. She really did like Ben, and if the incident at work was the worst he had to offer then he wasn’t so bad. And besides, her dad had liked him too and he was generally a very good judge of character. She smiled to herself as she shuffled down under the sheets. It was some time before her racing mind slowed down and allowed her to fall asleep.

The Timer took a step back.

What the fuck is this? It should be drugs, it’s always drugs.

He directed the torch down onto the package and located the eyes again. They blinked in the torchlight. Big, blue eyes, undoubtedly those of a child, stared back, the terror within them all too obvious to see.

What have they set me up with here? Jez never said a word about this.

It was then that he remembered what Jez
had
said.
The package is bigger than normal, so make sure you’ve got a decent set of wheels.
The package was not what you would call large. The Timer reckoned the child to be around the same age as his own girls, based on size alone, making her around five or six years old.

He bent over and pulled the sheet further down. The girl lying on the floor of the trailer stared back up at him, unable to make a sound through the thick tape which had been secured tightly over her mouth. He pulled the sheet away completely and saw that she was dressed in a thick red duffle coat. Her hands and feet were also bound by the same tape, and it was clear to him why she was lying so still and why she looked so scared.

It’s just a job, the same as any other. Deliver the goods and collect the cash. Six grand for this remember.

But he already knew he couldn’t go through with it. The child reminded him too much of his own girls at home. Daisy and Molly would be safely tucked up in bed, their mother close by, warm and happy. The contrast to this girl was stark, and she should be in a similar place, in her own bed, with her own family. He was a bad guy, he knew that. He’d done bad things, and yes, he had enjoyed the thrill of it. But this was something else. This was a child, a young girl who didn’t belong in this world, not this ugly world of greed and violence. He couldn’t do it, and he already knew that this was a turning point, not only for this young vulnerable child laying in the back of this truck on her way to God knows where, but also for himself.

Putting his face close to the girl’s, he smiled widely. Not a grin, but a warm, genuine smile, and he was sure he saw a twinkle in the child’s eyes.

‘I’m gonna get you somewhere safe, sweetheart,’ he said, and those eyes blinked back at him. ‘I promise I’ll take this tape off you in a minute, but we need to get to my car first. I’m going to carry you out of here.’

‘What the hell are you doing in here you thieving bastard?’ The driver had apparently noticed the light in the truck and had come out to investigate. ‘I’m warning you, the police are on their way. You’d better run whilst you can.’ The driver looked even smaller close up. Balding, with a stomach which hung low over the top of his belt, and possibly the least threatening man the Timer had ever seen. He shone the torch directly at the man’s face to make sure he couldn’t see the child lying at his feet.

‘Listen to me carefully. I have a knife on me and I don’t want to use it. Go back into the house and wait for the police to arrive. I’m not stealing anything, and I’ll be on my way in just a minute.’ The Timer really did not want to hurt the man. After all, he was just an innocent pawn in all of this. He had no idea that he had been carrying an extra package, never mind that it was a child.

The man stood there trying to make out what was going on, his hand forming a peek over his eyes as if he was looking into strong sunlight. He obviously didn’t fancy his chances and seemed reluctant to fight, but his pride clearly wouldn’t let him give in easily. He shuffled on his feet and ruffled what little hair he had.

‘I don’t want any trouble, mate, but you’re in my truck. I can’t let you just take stuff out of it.’

The Timer pulled his knife and held it out in front of him, making sure the blade flashed in the torchlight. His victim took a step back and reached for the opening in the tarpaulin, ready to make his escape if necessary.

‘Go back into the house, or I
will
use this. It’ll hurt like nothing you’ve ever felt and you’ll die a slow and painful death.’ The Timer spoke calmly and didn’t once break his stare, confident that the man would back down.

‘Oh Jesus, okay, okay. Just don’t take anything. I’ll lose my job if you do. Please, don’t take anything. The police are coming.’ He turned and disappeared through the hole in the tarpaulin.

The Timer bent down and scooped the small, weightless child up into his arms, clasping her close to his chest.

‘Come on, babe, we’ll have you out of here and back to safety as soon as we can.’ The blue eyes continued to stare up at him.

He returned to the hole in the truck’s tarpaulin and clambered down with the child still clutching to him. Snow was now falling from the dark sky and it felt sharp on his face as he looked up at the house. The curtains twitched as the truck driver and his girlfriend looked out, their silhouettes clear against the light behind them. There was no sign of the police arriving, and he was confident that the threat had been a lie. The last thing the driver needed was to have to explain why he was here, and more particularly, who he was with.

The Timer placed the child in the front passenger seat and jumped in the driver’s side, already pulling his knife. The child saw the blade and flinched.

‘Don’t worry little angel, I’m just gonna take these horrible tapes off you, okay?’

She nodded, still looking at him intently. And as the tape came away she cried again, and hugged the Timer as she sobbed. It broke his heart, and he let her cry until he felt the sobs subside and thought she would be able to speak.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Francesca.’ She sounded English, home counties perhaps.

‘Where are you from, Francesca? Where’s home?’

‘London.’ Her voice was quiet and uncertain. The Timer wasn’t even sure she knew where home was. Why was she in a truck from Hull? Had she been kept there? Or had she been taken abroad and then smuggled back into the country?

‘And is that where mummy is?’

‘I don’t know.’ The tears came again.

‘Why don’t you know?’ He spoke as gently as he could so as not to upset her any more than he had to.

‘We were on holiday.’

‘Can you remember where that was?’

‘Amster… Amsterdam. With mummy and daddy.’

‘Okay, now listen to me. I need you to be a brave girl. I’m gonna get you somewhere safe so you can go home to mummy and daddy? Would that be good?’

She hugged him tighter and sobbed uncontrollably.

What the hell is Jez doing messing about with kids?

The Timer eased the child gently back into her seat and fastened the seatbelt across her. She needed a booster seat really but it would have to do. He set off down the lane in search of help, driving carefully in the light covering of snow that had already developed. It wasn’t long before he approached a small village where several stone houses lined both sides of the road. He pulled the car over and clambered out.

‘Come on Francesca, I need to get you safe,’ he said gently as he helped her out of the car. He picked her up and hurried to the sturdy-looking door of a house where lights were shining from the front windows. He banged on the wood several times and waited.

‘Hello?’ It was a pleasant looking woman in her thirties. She’d opened the door seemingly without any great concern for own safety. The Timer guessed that she’d lived in this rural community for many years; a place where serious crime just didn’t happen.

‘Hello love. Do you live here alone?’ The Timer knew the question would unease her, and he could see that he was right by her change of expression, but he had to be sure this was a safe place.

‘Can I help you with something?’ asked the woman, stepping back and subconsciously closing the door a little.

‘Yes, I think you can. I…’

‘Who is it mummy?’ A small boy appeared from behind the woman’s legs and peered up at the Timer.

‘Go back inside dear, it’s just a man looking for some help with his daughter.’ Her words were full of warmth and love despite her concern about the stranger at the door. The Timer knew instantly that this was a good place.

‘Please, I need you to take this child and get her to safety. Call the police and tell them that she is missing. Her name is Francesca.’

‘I don’t understand. Is she your daughter?’

‘No, but she needs help. She needs to get back to her family. I think they live in London. I don’t have time to explain it all now.’

‘But who are you? Where have you come from?’

‘I can’t tell you any more than I have. I’m sorry, I know this is a big ask, but I have no alternative.’

The woman looked back into the house and he thought she was about to call to someone else, but she didn’t.

‘Okay,’ she said simply. ‘I’ll do it.’

The Timer shaped to pass Francesca to the woman but the girl held on to his coat as tightly as she could. He knelt down and placed her on the ground so that she was standing in front of him, her eyes gleaming in the light coming from the hallway. He knew he would never see this little girl again, but he also knew he would never forget those eyes.

‘Francesca, this nice lady is going to get you back to mummy and daddy. I promise you that she will do that. I have to leave now. You’re safe now, I promise. You’re safe.’

She nodded and hugged him again, then took hold of the hand being held out to her by the woman at the door.

‘Thank you,’ said the Timer, and the woman nodded. He turned to leave as the door closed behind him. It was only then that the anger, which he’d necessarily restrained, came to the surface. He’d been tricked into this, tricked into doing something he never would have agreed to, and they knew it. He felt used. Used and betrayed by the people for whom he had worked for many years. There was only one thing that came to mind, one thing that he knew would put things right, especially if he wanted to save face in this business of his.

Revenge.