The Drowning Tide (Blair Dubh Trilogy #2) (17 page)

“What do you reckon?” Gary asked Steve.

“Not sure. The obsessed tourist theory makes sense but the crazy ex-girlfriend stalker does too. Do you remember Mandy when she turned up here after Martin Lynch took a leap into the sea?”

“Yeah, a bit tasty but bloody high maintenance and not a patch on Freya.”

“Still got your little crush?” smiled Steve.

Gary blushed and looked at the ground, broadening Steve’s grin.

“Don’t let on to Craig, he’ll kill you,” added Steve. “Come on then, let’s go and talk to that big-nosed prick, and you’d better be polite.”

“I hate Toby, he’s a wank,” said Gary as they started to walk away.

“Oy you two, where do you think you’re going?” called a voice. “Stop right there.”

They both sighed and halted in their tracks.

“Not as big a wank as him,” muttered Steve, making Gary laugh.

CHAPTER 18

“Have you found who did it?” said Nora the minute Craig stepped through the door.

“Not yet but I will.”

Freya was sat on the couch looking scared and small, knees pulled into her chest. His heart sank when he realised she was curled up so tightly to stop herself from shaking. She was experiencing the cravings for a drink again after being free from them for so long. Why did he bring her to this cursed fucking village?

He sat beside her and she buried her face in his chest.

“We can get a taxi to Wemyss Bay then get the train back to Glasgow,” he said.

“At first I wanted to leave but now I’m not going until I know who did it.” Every time the memory of the partially dug graves returned the horror was overwhelming. Had the vandal intended to dig right down to the coffins before he was disturbed?

“I don’t understand. Why do it in broad daylight when anyone could have come along?” said Nora.

The realisation struck Craig like a slap in the face. “Because they wanted Freya to see it. If they’d waited till night we could have been gone in the morning. They might have known you were in the church right then. They might have followed you.”

“Then it’s someone who knows me, not a random stranger obsessed with the killings,” said Freya.

“Perhaps. I’ve asked Steve and Gary to talk to Toby and get the names of his tour group. Sergeant Hughes turned up too.”

“What did you think?” said Nora, eyes twinkling.

“That you were right. He is a wank.”

“He is that. It wouldn’t be so bad if he was any good at his job but he’s bloody useless. Hopefully one day he’ll slip up and they’ll have no choice but to kick him out.”

“I’m just worried about who will pay for his mistake,” said Craig.

Silence hung in the room, punctuated by the whirr of the many fans, smothering the cheer of the sun pouring in through the window.

“Can I use your phone Mum? I can’t get a signal on my mobile,” said Craig.

“Help yourself,” she replied, waving in the general direction of the phone.
             

Reluctantly Freya moved to let him stand, just wanting his arms around her.

As Craig dialled he watched Freya slumped on the couch, looking just as dejected as she had during the Martin Lynch incident.

“Hello? Hello?”

Muir’s voice roused him from his thoughts. “Hi Eric, it’s Craig.”

“What have you done to the boat?”

Craig thought of the hole in the side and swallowed hard. “Nothing. I’m not calling about that. I need to discuss Mandy Allan.”

Freya’s head snapped round, eyes blazing and Craig was heartened. She looked her old self again. “It was her, wasn’t it? I’ll kill the ginger bitch.”

“Calm down Freya, we don’t know yet. That’s why I’m calling Eric.” He returned to his call. “I need you to check where she is.”

“Staying with her wealthy aunt up in Inverness.”

“Is she definitely there?”

“That’s where she went when she was released.”

“I need you to check that she’s still there.”

“Why? What’s going on Craig?”

“We’ve had an incident here in Blair Dubh.”

“Oh Christ, not again. No one’s deid, are they?”

“No. The graves of Freya’s mum and dad were desecrated. I have to make sure it’s not her before I start questioning anyone else.”

“I see what you mean. Alright, I’ll do it right now and call you back.”

“Thanks Eric, I appreciate it.”

He hung up and watched Freya furiously pacing, the shakes gone. Mandy was an enemy she was familiar with and knew she could handle.

“Of course it’s her, I can’t believe I didn’t think of it earlier. Will this mean she’ll finally be sent to the big hoose?” Freya asked Craig.

“If it is her and we can prove it, then yes. This sort of crime is taken very seriously.”

“Good,” she stated firmly before throwing herself back on the couch, foot tapping angrily.

“Anyone want a brew?” said Nora with false cheer.

“Tea, in this heat?” said Craig.

“It’s the best thing, brings your inside body temperature in line with the outside.”

“That’s an old wive’s tale.”

“Are you calling me an old wife?” she frowned.

“I wouldn’t dare but I’d love a cold drink.”

“Fine. Freya?”

“Nothing for me thanks.”

While Nora disappeared into the kitchen Craig sat beside Freya. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fucking furious.”

“I don’t blame you. Sorry, this wasn’t the relaxing few days I had in mind.”

“It’s not your fault,” she replied distractedly.

Nora’s heart went out to her son as she watched him staring at Freya, chewing his lip anxiously, afraid he was going to lose her. She prayed that this on top of all the baby business wasn’t enough to finish them.

He was diverted by the phone ringing and snatched it up. “What?”

“Charming greeting. It’s me, Eric.”

“And?”

“As far as I can ascertain Mandy’s in Inverness. I spoke to her aunt.”

“Did you speak to Mandy personally?”

“No. Apparently she’s out shopping.”

“That sounds like her but I’d feel better if you’d spoken to her directly, then we could be sure.”

“I’ll try again later but the aunt said she was out buying a new dress for a date tonight. Apparently Mandy’s over you and wants nothing more to do with you. Her new fella is loaded and gorgeous and she’s forgotten all about you. She went out of her way to make that really clear.”

“I hope to God she’s telling the truth but stalkers with Mandy’s persistence don’t suddenly give up.” Saying this, Craig couldn’t figure out why the aunt would lie. Craig had met her a few times. He hadn’t liked her, she was as vain and arrogant as her niece. But she’d always protected Mandy - usually from herself - and lying for her wouldn’t help her.

“I’ll let you know when I manage to get hold of her.” There was a hesitation before Muir added, “you sure the boat’s okay?”

“It’s fine you big fanny,” said Craig, hoping Bill hadn’t been exaggerating about his talents.

“There’s that famous charm again.”

“Let me know when you get hold of Mandy, preferably by the throat,” he said, hanging up before he could ask any more questions about the boat.

“Well?” said Freya.

“He’s not sure. He spoke to Mandy’s aunt who swore blind she’s in Inverness, but he hasn’t spoken to Mandy directly. He’s going to try again and let us know.”

“The aunt’s covering for her. Mandy’s here,” said Freya. “She’s the only one mental enough to do something like this.”

“You’re probably right. In that case you’d better be careful, she’s still gunning for you.”

“I can handle her and I’ll enjoy it.”

“She’s insane Freya. Don’t underestimate her.”

“Craig’s right,” said Nora. “Mad people have great strength and they’re unpredictable.”

“I’m going to make sure she pays for what she’s done,” glowered Freya, green eyes burning.

Craig had worried that Mandy would kill Freya but now he feared the desecration of her parents’ graves was the final straw and Freya was done playing nice. He wasn’t going to let his wife go to jail for his barmy ex.

Mandy was hungry, getting chilly in her shorts and her legs ached from being crouched in the trees. The ancient gravedigger was taking an age to fill in the graves. An alarming wheeze rattled in his chest and his face was red and blotchy. Still, if he did keel over it would be one less ugly person to look at. Her lip curled with disdain at his dirty sweaty clothes, the white stubble that covered his cheeks, his sparse grey hair revealing the shiny red scalp beneath.

Mandy’s worst fear was getting old and losing her looks. She didn’t think she could bear it if she walked down the street and no heads turned her way. Sometimes she dreamed of a young death at the hands of something quick and painless yet tragic, leaving behind a beautiful elegant corpse. Her body would be dressed in all her jewels and finery. There would be a line of distraught ex-boyfriends and admirers queuing to pay their respects, devastated that they’d never get to see or touch her again. At the head of that line would be Craig, the grieving widower, unable to tear himself from her side even though he knew her beautiful body was just an empty shell, the woman he adored gone. A week after her funeral he’d take his own life, unable to go on without her. They’d be reunited in eternity, never to be parted again, forever young and beautiful.

She sighed with happiness. What a lovely dream. She was determined to make it a reality.

Finally the wizened old digger finished filling in the graves and he patted down the earth with the shovel. Reverently he placed a bunch of fresh flowers on each of them and crossed himself before hobbling away, exhausted.

Mandy glared at the graves, which looked so neat and pretty. She wanted to destroy them but the thought of what all that nasty earth would do to her nails held her back.

A minute after the old man had disappeared the bald man emerged from behind the church and she sniggered. His arms and the lower part of his face were bright red. The idiot hadn’t worn sunscreen. He looked extremely pissed off too, furious eyes fixed on the graves. She watched as he looked up and down to make sure no one was watching before sneaking up to the graves. Mandy forced herself not to burst out laughing when he took out his unimpressive dick and pissed over both graves. It was a shame Freya would never know what he’d done because the liquid would soon evaporate in this heat. Once again she wondered who he was and considered approaching him, clearly they shared a purpose but he looked dangerous. No, much better to continue to watch him from afar and see what else she could discover about him.

With a satisfied smile he zipped himself up and she let him disappear back inside the church before leaving her hiding place. It was late afternoon but it felt like the sun was about to set, the village telling all the interlopers to get out and it was working. Boats were returning to dock, people getting into their cars to leave, trying to anyway. The three uniformed police officers were stopping them as they arrived on the car park to question them, probably about the desecration, Toby flapping about between them like a giant stick insect. Ugly pig. It insulted her that he’d thought he’d have a chance with her.

Mandy meandered down the hill and onto the dock, trying to look like a casual tourist. She walked right past Freya and Craig’s boat, craning her neck to peer inside but she couldn’t see anything because of the light reflecting off the glass so she continued on her way. She stepped onto her own boat, which was moored just two boats down from Freya and Craig’s and entered the cabin. Their boat was bigger than hers and the fact that Freya was enjoying more luxury than her rankled but soon Freya would be dead at the hands of the bald man and the next holiday Craig took would be with herself. They wouldn’t come back to this crappy village again. Instead they’d go to the Caribbean, Italy, Dubai, somewhere with a bit of class.

It was a relief to pull off the black wig and let her own gorgeous hair loose. She was in desperate need of a shower, the wig had made her sweat.

When voices caught her attention she peered through one of the tiny windows and saw Craig and Freya arm-in-arm, not looking too happy. In fact Freya seemed positively livid and Craig was trying to calm her down. Her face was red with rage and Mandy was glad, it only made her look uglier. What the hell did he see in her? She’d never understand.

They stopped by the side of their boat and Craig took Freya’s face in his hands and kissed her. Mandy released a grunt and slammed her fists down on the small Formica table. His kiss was full of love and passion and it caused her physical pain to see it. He should be kissing
her
not that moody cow. When Freya gazed back up at him her expression was much softer, her eyes gentle and Mandy wanted to scratch them out of her head. She was forced to watch as he whispered something in her ear, making her giggle, his hand covertly cupping her breast. Mandy couldn’t understand how he could touch those big soft breasts. Surely her small pert ones were much nicer? She didn’t even need a bra whereas Freya required bloody scaffolding. Freya smiled and nodded and Craig lifted her onto the boat before jumping on. Then they disappeared inside together, probably to shag.

Mandy took a dirty saucepan from the sink - she never washed up - and began hammering the walls with it, splattering them with red sauce and denting them. Fuck the damage, she’d let Marcus have a quick feel-up and he’d forget all about it. She closed her eyes and gripped onto the sink for dear life, the thought of what they were up to so close to her driving her mad. She wanted to charge in there and stab the pair of them to death, set fire to the boat with them inside, anything to hurt them in the hope that it would drive out this unbearable rage. No, she would never hurt Craig. The goth witch had cast a spell on him and he didn’t know what he was doing. This had to be done properly or she’d never get what she wanted.

Mandy breathed deeply, remembering the mediation exercises she’d been taught in anger management. When she opened her eyes she felt much calmer. So what if they were having sex? Freya was probably crap at it. Soon he’d be back with her and together they’d burn up the sheets like they used to.