True Colours (The You Don't Know Me Trilogy Book 2) (24 page)

‘Really?  Did you know he grew up in the same town as you?’

‘Yes,’ I sneer, determined to steal his thunder.  ‘And I know he was adopted.  I know he was thrown out of university.  I know he ended up in Rome.  I know he lived with a woman.’

‘And married her?’

‘Yes, I know that,’ I snap, and suddenly I’m wondering if Boyd is behind Claudine’s meddling.

He reaches up to touch me again.  I take a step to the side.

‘And, of course, you know about his penchant for kinky clubs.’

‘Yes.’

‘He’s got a reputation, you know.  He’s into the serious stuff.’

‘Not any more.’

‘Are you sure about that?  Is it just the light version for you?  I can offer you kink, if that’s your thing.’

‘You can’t offer me anything.’

‘I can offer you plenty.’

I look past him, at the steps, the row of little white lightbulbs strung out between the lamp posts.  If I’m quick enough, I could make a run for it, but he’d only follow me.  My head’s swirling now: a mess of panic and fear.  There’s a hand on my arm, fingers closing around my flesh … Boyd’s fingers.

‘Come with me, Maya.  I’m not the man I used to be.’

I shake my head and do my best to glare at him, but it’s almost impossible.  The world’s a blur.  And suddenly I realise that I’m crying.

‘Back off.’

I jolt at the sound of the voice.

The fingers release my arm and I let out a breath.  Moving away, Boyd turns his back to me, revealing a figure on the steps behind.  And even though I hate him right now, even though he’s destroyed every last remnant of trust in my possession, relief floods through me at the sight of Daniel Foster.

‘And so, like a bad penny ...’

‘I said back off.  If you lay one finger on her, I’ll rip your fucking head off.’

‘Nice.  I’m not here for a fight.  Not this time.’

‘Then what
are
you here for?’

Boyd laughs: an empty, curious sort of a laugh.

‘I need to sort out the Feng Shui.  It’s all wrong.’  He wafts a hand between us.  ‘You don’t go with her … and she doesn’t go with you.’

Moving forwards into the light, Dan holds out a hand to me.

‘Come over here, Maya.’

Drowning in confusion, I stare at the hand.

‘Maya,’ he pleads.  ‘Just come over here.’

I falter, take a step towards Dan.

‘You’re going back to him?’ Boyd demands.  ‘With what you know?’

With his eyes firmly fixed on mine, Dan repeats himself, slowly.

‘Just come over here, Maya.  I’ll explain everything.  I promise.’

He turns the hand, opening his palm to me, as if he’s offering everything.  And what choice do I have?  I watch as my own hand slides into his and before I know it, I’m standing by his side.

‘Just make sure he doesn’t lie to you,’ Boyd’s voice echoes in my ears.  ‘You never know what else you’re going to dig up with this one.’

‘There’s nothing more to find,’ Dan hisses, reaching into his jacket pocket for his mobile.  ‘So you can keep your nose out of my life.’

‘And you can keep your nose out of mine,’ Boyd retorts.

The two men glare at each other, and I’m half expecting Dan to release me, to lurch at Boyd and rip him to pieces.

‘Oh yes, I know what you’ve been up to,’ Boyd pushes on relentlessly.  ‘You’ve had a private dick nosing through my affairs.  Are you, by any chance, trying to bury me?’

‘I will bury you.  There’s no doubt about it.’  Dismissing Boyd with a glare, Dan taps in a contact on his phone and holds it to his ear.  ‘We’re ready to go home.  Get the car down to the embankment now.  We’re at the Needle.’  Fixing his attention back on Boyd, he slips the mobile into his pocket.  ‘You need to disappear.  Stay away from Maya.  Don’t come anywhere near the apartment, anywhere near the house.’

‘And if I don’t, what are you going to do about it?’

‘I’ll think of something.’

‘Is that a threat?’

‘Could be.’

‘Well, Mr Foster, I’ve got news for you.’  Slowly, very slowly, Boyd’s lips curl into a smile, but his eyes remain hard.  ‘Two can play at that game.’

He raises a hand, points a finger at Dan, squints … and pulls an imaginary trigger.

While Ian Boyd climbs the steps, Dan follows in his wake, his hand still clasped firmly around mine.  Watching as Boyd saunters off into the distance, past a row of trees and a red telephone box, he releases my hand, retrieves his mobile and makes another call.

‘He’s on the embankment, making for Waterloo Bridge.  Be quick.’

‘Who’s that?’ I ask, glancing back along the road.  Boyd’s already out of sight.

‘It doesn’t matter.’  He shakes his head, drops the mobile back into his pocket and takes me by the arm.  ‘I’m having him followed.  I want to know where he’s holed up.’

Struggling out of his grip, I meet his gaze, finding nothing but steely determination in his eyes.  And suddenly, with Boyd out of the way and the whirlwind of the last few minutes beginning to calm, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.

‘How did you find me?’

‘Lily followed you, saw you take off down here and came to get me.  You’re bloody lucky she did.  Your luck’s going to run out one day, Maya.’

‘Maybe it already has,’ I sneer, registering the fact that the Rolls-Royce is pulling up at the kerb.

‘How come?’

‘How come?  I’ve just fallen in love with a man who’s already got a wife.’

He grimaces.  ‘I told you, I don’t have a wife.’

‘She was making it all up then?  Claudine was lying?’

‘No.’

The word hits me like a bullet, and there I have it: a confirmation I didn’t want to hear.  A wave of nausea rolls straight through my stomach.  My legs weaken beneath me.

‘It was a long time ago,’ he states flatly.  ‘It didn’t last and it was nothing to do with love.’

‘I need the details.’

‘You’ll get them later.’  Without waiting for the driver, he opens the back door.  ‘Get in.’

‘I don’t want to.’

‘Just do it, Maya.’

‘You told me you’d never been married.’

‘I know that.’  He shakes his head.  ‘Okay, I lied to you.  One stupid, ridiculous lie.  And believe me, I wish I could take it back.’

‘And now, you want me to just carry on as if nothing’s changed?’

‘No.’  His face stiffens with resolve.  ‘I want you to get in this car and hear me out.  I want you to remember that I love you.  If we can get past this, we have a future together … an entire life.’

‘But you lied.’

‘Because I was scared.’  In an instant, the resolve cracks.  While his voice rises in desperation, his eyes plead with me.  ‘Scared that if I told you the truth, you’d make a run for it.’

‘You told me, no more bombshells.’

‘I wasn’t exactly planning on this.’  He holds the door, watching me carefully.  ‘Just get in the car and let me explain.  You might understand.’

‘And what if I don’t?’

‘I don’t even want to think about it.’

He holds out an unsteady hand, and I realise that I have very little choice in the matter.  After all, I have no handbag, no money, and the last thing I want to do is wander off into the night while Boyd’s on the prowl.  My body makes the decision for me.  One minute I’m standing on the pavement, the next I’m sitting in the back of the car … and Dan is by my side.

‘Get on with it then,’ I mutter.

‘Not now.’

‘It’s always not now.’

‘I’ll tell you everything tonight.’  He leans across and fastens my seatbelt.  ‘I just need to organise a few things first.’

‘I’m not going back to the apartment.’

‘Where else are you going to go?’

‘Camden.  I need some space.’

I glare at him, knowing full well that Lucy’s away for the night.  If I want to go back to my old flat, then I’m going to have to pay a visit to Lambeth and dig out my own set of keys.  And besides, I could do with changing out of this ridiculous dress.

‘It’s not going to happen,’ he informs me, taking out his mobile.

‘Is that what you think?’

‘Absolutely.’

While he presses on with his seemingly urgent phone calls, I slump back in the seat, watching the skyline as it slips past and silently resolving not to let this man have his way.  Before long, he begins to speak.

‘Bill. I’m good, thank you.  Listen, I haven’t got much time.  We’re going to be joining you a little earlier than planned.  Tonight if I can manage it.’  He listens to a voice at the other end of the phone.  ‘Thank you.  I’ll explain more when we get there.’

‘I’m not going anywhere with you,’ I grumble.

He holds up a hand.  ‘I’ll call you with the details when I have them.  Yes.  Me too.’  He slides his thumb over the end-call icon.

‘I said I’m not going anywhere with you,’ I repeat.

Ignoring me, he makes another call.

‘Wallace?  Where’s your jet at the minute?  I need to get somewhere fast.  Tonight.’  He listens intently.  ‘Bermuda,’ he says crisply.  ‘Call me back.  I need this done quickly.’

‘Like everything else in your sodding life,’ I complain.  And then my brain begins to whirl.  He’s talking about a jet?

‘Tell no one about this, Wallace.  And I mean no one.  Yes, two people.’

He ends the call, dropping the mobile onto his lap.

‘I’m not going on a plane.’

He shrugs and looks out of the window.

‘I said I’m not going on a plane,’ I repeat, panic surging in my gut.  ‘Wallace?  That’s the one with the Lear jet.’

He nods.

‘A Lear jet?  You think you’re taking me on a Lear jet?’

He nods again.

‘Wallace owes me a favour. I’m calling it in.  We need to get out of London.’

‘No … no,’ I stammer.  And now the surge has gone.  Retreating for a few seconds, it gathers force, returning as a full-blown tidal wave of anxiety, hitting me head-on and knocking everything else clean out of the way.  ‘I can’t.  I just can’t.’

‘And I don’t care if I have to drag you onto that jet, kicking and screaming.  It’s going to happen.’

Wrestling my heart beat under control, I watch as Lambeth bridge flies past, listen as he takes another call from Wallace, apparently confirming a flight that I have no intention of boarding.  When we finally draw up outside Lambeth House, he’s out of the car in a flash.  And so am I, utterly determined to go through with my own plan: within the next hour, I’ll be back in my pokey little flat, soaking in a hot bath and making a few important decisions of my own.  In silence, I’m guided through the lobby and into the lift, back out of the lift and into the apartment, led straight up the stairs and into the bedroom.  Without hesitation, he opens up the wardrobes, pulls out a pair of matching suitcases and slings them onto the floor.

‘Pack for a hot climate.’

While he unzips both suitcases, I stand my ground.  If he thinks I’m simply going to comply, he’s got a surprise in store.

‘No.’

He strides over to me, takes me by the arm and tugs me in close.

‘We haven’t got time to mess about.’

‘Then you tell me about your wife.’

‘When you’re on the plane, I’ll tell you everything.’

‘When you tell me everything, I might just get on the plane.’

‘We need to do this my way.’

‘Why?  Because you think I’m going to run a mile when you tell me?’

He stares at me, all mean and hot and moody, and I realise I’ve just hit the nail right on the bloody head.  He’s not going to tell me anything until he’s got me holed up on a Lear jet at thirty thousand feet.  And if that’s the case, it must be one hell of a story.

‘Pack your case.  I need to get you away from Boyd.’

‘You’re over-reacting.’

‘Am I?’  Releasing me, he sets about packing, tugging out shorts and T-shirts, tossing them into his case.

‘Yes.’  Determined to dig my heels in, I watch as he rifles through his drawers, adding underpants to the general mess.  ‘You’re dragging me halfway across the world because of Ian Boyd?  Come on.  He’s not that much of a threat.’

He stops again and examines me, obviously mulling over what to say.

‘Oh, he’s a threat, Maya.  You’d better believe it.’

‘Would you care to elaborate?’

‘He’s still obsessed with you.  He wants you back.’

‘And he can’t have me.  It’s as simple as that.’

He laughs.  ‘And you think that’s the way he sees it?’

‘Do you know something I don’t?’

Running a hand through his hair, he glances round the room and at last, he seems to make a decision.  Slowly, carefully, he begins to pick his way through the details.

‘That night at Slaters … You’d passed out.  I had my hands full, carrying you to the car.  I left Clive to deal with Boyd.  He dragged him outside, but he didn’t go easily.  He was ranting like a madman … nobody takes what’s his, that sort of shit … And he made a few threats.’

‘Such as?’

He meets my gaze.  ‘He said he’d make me suffer.’

‘You?’

‘He’s already started.’

‘You still think … You actually still think he poisoned your dog?’

‘I know he did.  The lab results came back.  Strychnine.  A massive dose.  We don’t use it.  None of the local farmers use it.  There’s only one way she could have been poisoned, only one person who’d do it.’

‘Oh please.’

‘You need proof?’  Without waiting for an answer, he marches over to a wardrobe and returns with a little black box in one hand, an envelope in the other.  He hands me the box.  ‘This was delivered here yesterday.’

‘It wasn’t the earrings?’

He shakes his head.  ‘Open it.’

I do as I’m told.  Inside I find a small silver tag, the name ‘Molly’ engraved onto one side.  I stare at it, horrified.

‘A little message.’  He says quietly, taking the box from me.

‘But why couldn’t you just tell me?’

‘I didn’t want to worry you.’

I shake my head.

‘It worries me more when you don’t tell me things, Dan.  Can’t you see that?’

His shoulders slump.  Suddenly, he seems exhausted.

‘I thought it was for the best.’

‘Well, it’s not.’  I hold his gaze, determined to make my point.  ‘Don’t try to protect me by keeping me in the dark.  I’m not weak.  I told you that.  I can deal with these things.  Understand?’  I wait for him to nod before I go on.  ‘You need to call the police.’

‘They wouldn’t be interested.’  He holds up the box.  ‘This hardly counts as proof in a court of law.’

‘But if he delivered it, he’ll be on the CCTV.’

‘He’s not.  I’ve already had it checked.  It was some kid in a hoodie.  You can’t even see his face.’

He presents the envelope to me.  Tentatively, I take it, turning it in my hands.

‘What he did was a warning shot.  He wanted me to know he means business, and he does.  The man’s screwed up, Maya.’

‘What’s this?’

‘A full report from the private investigators.  A few documents they’ve managed to lay their hands on.  Take a look.’

Seating myself on the edge of the bed, I open up the envelope, emptying out a handful of sheets onto the covers.  I take the first one: a photocopy with a hospital logo at the top.

‘A psychiatric report?  How did you get this?’

‘Don’t ask.’  He sits next to me.  ‘He’s suffering from schizophrenia.  He’s been prescribed drugs to control it but judging by his behaviour, he doesn’t take them.  On top of that, he drinks heavily, and I mean heavily.’  He rubs his forehead.  ‘And on top of that, he’s a regular drug user.  Weed and coke, mostly.’  Clasping his hands together, he lowers his voice.  ‘I’ve had a private investigator up in Scotland.  He managed to track down a retired detective.  He had Boyd in his sights for years but never got anywhere. He was blocked at every turn.’

‘How?’

‘It’s amazing what money and connections can do for you.’  His eyes rest on mine, gentle now.  ‘There are plenty of stories, too many of them, quiet gossip in certain circles: Boyd’s hounded other women, and he’s abused them too.  But not one of them has ever gone to the police.  They’ve just run, like you ran.  He’s always got away with it.’

‘But if they all pressed charges …’

‘They won’t.  They’re terrified.’  He pauses, swallows.  ‘He moved in on you tonight.  What happened with Claudine was a distraction.  Isaac helped to set it up.’

‘How do you know?’  I search his face for a clue, and find it in a flash of guilt.  ‘You hit him?’

‘It did the job.  Isaac’s the only person I ever told about my marriage.  I have no idea how Boyd found out about the club, but he visited, trying to sniff out more dirt.  And he found it.  Claudine’s got an axe to grind with me.  It wouldn’t have taken much to rope her in.  And Isaac?  Well, he’d do anything for that woman.’  He takes my chin in his hand.  ‘Listen to me, Maya.  Ian Boyd banked on you storming out of that place tonight and it worked.  You walked right into his hands.  If I hadn’t found you, what do you think would have happened?’