We Can See You Page 27

  When Angie came back into the room, she was on another phone call. She nodded at Brook, before going over to a desk in the corner and making some notes on a pad while Brook drained what was left of the gin and tonic, already thinking about the possibility of another one. She was tired of running; she was tired of worrying; she was even tired of thinking. She just wanted to drown her woes in drink for a few hours.

  And then Angie walked back across the room as she ended the call and threw the cat right back among the pigeons.

  ‘I think I know who set you up.’

  59

  For Jenna, the fact that Brook Connor got bail only showed how skewed the whole system was in favour of the wealthy. She’d been at the scene of a total of five murders, and yet still the judge had seen fit to release her while she awaited trial.

  Back at the station there was disappointment that she’d been released, too, but no one felt it more than Jenna. Inside, she was seething, and for the first time it occurred to her that the bitch might actually get away with it. If she did get off, Jenna had no doubt she’d write a book about the whole thing and make millions once again. As it was, her latest book was selling so well it was predicted to make Number One on The New York Times Best Sellers chart that weekend. Even faced with all this shit, Connor had still come out in profit. It wasn’t justice.

  More than anything right now, Jenna wanted to kill her. To hold a gun to her head, make her beg for mercy and then blow her away. The thing about killing, as Jenna had discovered, was that it was very addictive and got easier every time. Killing Harris had taken willpower, because it had been up close and personal. Killing Lou McPherson, a man she’d been intimate with on numerous occasions, had been easy. Not only had he betrayed her by contacting Connor behind her back and trying to get the reward money, but he’d always been a liability and knew way too much for comfort. A quick shot to the side of the head and that had been that. Same with Giant.

  But right now, killing Brook Connor was a needless risk, so Jenna knew she needed to bide her time. The right opportunity would present itself. In the meantime she decided to leave for the night, pleased that they still hadn’t located Giant’s body. Another murder on their patch would mean a lot more work for her, and she could do without another long shift.

  Tonight, she was planning on enjoying herself.

  60

  ‘I’m pretty certain it was Detective Jenna King,’ said Angie, sitting down on one of the comfortable chairs opposite Brook.

  Startled, Brook frowned and put down her drink. ‘The woman who’s been questioning me, with Detective Giant? What on earth’s she got against me? I’ve never even met her before.’

  ‘I’ve had my best investigator on this all day. He tells me that Jenna King grew up in Massachusetts in a single-parent family. There’s no father’s name on her birth certificate. She was born in 1988, which is around the time that pregnant woman you told me about visited your dad. The mom had her young – twenty-two years old. At the time, she’d been working as an intern at Northeastern University. You said your father was a university lecturer and travelled, and that could be how he met her mother. Jenna King was a police officer in Boston, but she transferred to California eight years ago.’

  Brook swallowed. That had been just before her parents had died.

  ‘We also know, from what Chris Cervantes told you, that the third suspect in the shooting incident that he and Jenna King were involved in was Luis McPherson,’ continued Angie. ‘What if she let him get away, or realized at the time that he was one of the shooters and blackmailed him later? It’s conjecture, but the fact remains that Jenna King has a link with McPherson and, as a police officer, she had the means to plan this whole thing and frame you for it.’

  Brook remembered the last photo she’d been sent of Paige, standing on a neatly kept lawn. ‘Where would she be holding Paige? It looks like she’s being held in a place where there’s some private outside space.’

  ‘King’s address is an apartment in Monterey. I’ve got it written down.’ Angie grabbed her notebook and laptop from the other side of the room and checked Google Maps. ‘There’s no obvious outside space at her apartment block. At least not somewhere Paige could play, without attracting attention.’

  Brook thought about this. ‘Do we know what happened to her mother?’

  ‘I’ll ask my guy if he can find out. It shouldn’t take him long to get an address.’

  Angie got up to make the call while Brook stared out of the window. Already the reporters were packing away. Her story would die down now until the trial. Unless, of course, Angie was onto something. It was a shock to think that the person trying to destroy her could be Jenna King, but Brook knew better than to get too optimistic about her involvement. At the moment they didn’t have much.

  Angie returned ten minutes later. ‘The mother’s name’s Doris Barclay and she came to California at roughly the same time as Jenna. She’s currently living in a place called Boulder Creek.’

  ‘I know it,’ said Brook. ‘It’s close to Big Basin Redwoods State Park, so only about forty-five minutes away.’ She used Angie’s laptop to bring up Boulder Creek on Google Maps, while Angie gave her Doris Barclay’s address and zip code.

  Brook zoomed in as far as she could go on the satellite map and saw a large, rambling wooden house with a big back yard put to grass, enclosed on three sides with pine forest. And now she did feel a rising excitement, because it looked very much like the place where Paige had been photographed two days previously. ‘Paige is there, Angie,’ she said, trying to keep the excitement out of her voice. ‘We need to get her back now.’

  Angie stood up and shook her head. ‘No, no, no. It doesn’t work like that, Brook. We’ve got no proof that Paige is there. What I need to do is get my investigator to arrange surveillance on the property. If that’s where Paige is being held, he’ll be able to get video evidence …’

  ‘That could take days, Angie. Maybe weeks. They could even move her in the meantime. We need to call the local police.’

  ‘And say what, Brook? That we’re convinced your stepdaughter’s being held against her will by someone you’ve never met, and have no connection with? They don’t believe your story, as it is. They definitely won’t believe this. And it’ll warn Detective King that we’re onto her. Let’s do it my way and be patient.’

  ‘No. The past five days without Paige have been absolute hell. Every day she’s gone will be damaging her mentally and helping to destroy the relationship we had. I need to know, Angie – don’t you understand that? I need to see if Paige is there. If she is, I’m taking her back. If she isn’t, then I’ll accept the consequences.’

  Brook stood, her mind made up.

  Angie gave her an exasperated look. ‘You could be putting yourself in serious danger. If we’re right, Jenna King is a ruthless sociopath.’

  Brook gave a hollow laugh. ‘I’ve been in danger the whole of this past week. I’m getting used to it.’

  They stared at each other in silence for a long moment. There was no way Brook was going to back down – not when she had a chance to be reunited with Paige – and she knew Angie could see that. ‘Will you help me?’ she asked.

  Angie sighed and shook her head. ‘Jesus, I’ve had some difficult clients in my time, but you’re way ahead of them. What is it the Brits say? “In for a penny, in for a pound?” Okay then. Let’s go.’

  61

  Boulder Creek was a pretty little town set in the midst of one of the last redwood forests in central California, and Jenna King’s mother, Doris Barclay, lived about a mile outside, on the long, heavily wooded road out towards Big Basin Redwoods State Park.

  Night had fallen and the traffic had long since faded away by the time Angie and Brook left the house in Angie’s Tesla. According to Google Maps, the track to the house wound through trees for about a hundred yards, passing the driveway to another property that was set even further back in the forest.

  When they were out
of sight of the road, Brook told Angie to pull over.

  Angie cut the engine and killed the lights. ‘You know, you don’t need to do this …’

  Brook smiled and put a hand on her shoulder, giving it an affectionate squeeze. ‘Thanks for your concern, Angie. And thanks for all your help. But I do need to do this. Turn the car around and stay here. If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, dial nine-one-one and tell them what’s happened.’

  ‘You’ve got bigger balls than I ever gave you credit for, Brook Connor.’

  ‘They’ve grown a lot in the last week,’ said Brook and climbed out of the car, shutting the door quietly behind her. She no longer wondered if Angie had slept with Logan. She no longer cared. Angie had been there when she’d needed her, and right now that was enough.

  As she walked quickly down the track, keeping close to the treeline, Brook felt a potent mixture of hope and trepidation, knowing that the line between success and failure can be paper-thin. If Paige was here, then they’d be reunited, Brook would be able to clear her name and the future would suddenly be bright. But if she wasn’t – and they were making a mistake in blaming Detective King – then she’d be right back at square one and effectively without a future.

  The house loomed up in front of her: an old timber-clad structure with a wraparound porch built on piles that looked in serious need of updating. There was an ancient car parked out front and the lights were on downstairs.

  Brook walked around the side of the house and looked out across the back lawn. Even in darkness, it looked familiar and she felt certain now that she was in the right place. Taking a deep breath, she ascended the steps to the back door. There was a light on in the nearest room and, although the curtains were drawn and she couldn’t see inside, the noise of a TV quiz show drifted out the open window.

  She tried the door and it opened with a low squeak. Brook was unarmed, and she had no plan other than to simply creep inside and see if she could find Paige. If Doris Barclay had a dog, or good hearing, then Brook was in trouble, but as she’d kept telling herself on the way here, the time for caution had long since passed.

  As soon as she was in the narrow hallway, she saw it. A bright pink child’s soccer ball, like the one Paige had been playing with in the photo she’d been sent the previous day. She was here!

  Forcing herself not to hurry, Brook crept past the half-open door to the TV room, feeling a powerful, illicit thrill at being in someone’s house like this without them knowing. Then, as she reached the staircase, she saw that the door to the room next to it was open, and a whole host of kids’ toys were strewn on the floor, including the Sylvanian house that had been in the first photo.

  Taking a deep breath, she mounted the staircase, conscious of the creaking of the wooden steps underfoot. As she reached the top, she saw there was a door opposite and doors to either side of her, all bathed in the dim glow of a single lamp on a stand. All the doors were closed, but one of them had a big rainbow sign on it, with a smiling pink fairy at the end of it. Brook stopped outside, hardly daring to breathe. She put an ear against the wood, but could hear nothing from within. The only sound in the house was the faint, tinny blare of the TV from downstairs.

  Confident that no one else was up there, Brook quietly opened the door and went in.

  And there she was. Her darling Paige. Fast asleep in a tiny bed in the corner of the room, an unfamiliar teddy bear tucked up beside her.

  Brook almost fell to the floor, such was the force of the emotion that hit her then. Relief; joy; hope; fear – they all seemed to strike her, one after another, like hammer blows. She steadied herself by concentrating on her breathing for a few seconds and then, as the reality of her current situation hit her, she hurried over, kissed Paige gently on the forehead and lifted her out of bed and into her arms. Paige stirred a little and then rested her head on Brook’s shoulder, already asleep again, her breathing soft, yet audible, in her ear.

  It took all of Brook’s willpower to stop herself squeezing Paige too tightly against her and waking her up. Instead she crept out of the room and back down the stairs, teeth gritted at every little noise they made, knowing this was the most dangerous part of the whole venture because, with Paige in her arms, she was uniquely vulnerable.

  But there was no movement downstairs and, when she tried the front door, it opened immediately, allowing in the cool, fresh air of freedom.

  Closing the door behind her, Brook hurried back down the track, breaking into a run, not caring if she woke Paige up now, feeling an incredible elation as Angie’s car came into view. Angie had turned the car around, as requested, so that it was facing the road, and Brook covered the last few yards at a sprint, climbing into the passenger seat, unwilling even to think about letting go of Paige as she strapped herself in. ‘I’ve got her – let’s get out of here,’ she panted.

  Angie didn’t move.

  Brook stopped what she was doing and looked at her.

  Angie was staring straight ahead into the darkness, eyes wide open, unseeing. There was a deep gash across her throat that had leaked a thick curtain of blood all down her front and into her lap. More blood spattered the windscreen.

  ‘Oh God!’ whispered Brook. And then as she opened the passenger door and stepped out, still holding Paige to her chest, she heard movement behind her and a voice dripping with hatred hissed the words, ‘Don’t move or I’ll slice you right open.’

  62

  Very slowly Brook turned around and saw Detective Jenna King holding a gun in one hand and a bloodied switchblade in the other. She was still dressed in the same jacket and white shirt she’d been wearing that morning, when she’d charged Brook with murder.

  ‘The police know I’m here,’ said Brook, unable to think of anything else to say, conscious now of the weight of Paige in her arms.

  ‘No, they don’t,’ said Jenna with a wide, triumphant smile. ‘If they did, I’d know about it. As far as the law enforcement of this state is concerned, you’re a dangerous spree killer who should never have been bailed. Now let’s go back to the house.’

  ‘So you can kill me at your leisure? No, thank you.’

  ‘I can do it here, if you prefer.’

  Brook knew she was trapped, but the important thing was to protect her daughter. ‘Paige is asleep. Let me put her in the back seat of the car. If you’ve got to kill me, kill me. But I don’t want her to witness any of this. Or to know I was here.’

  Jenna thought about this, then nodded.

  Brook opened the door and laid Paige gently on the back seat, knowing that even though there was a body in the car, she’d be a lot safer here than back at the house.

  ‘Okay, start walking back the way you’ve just come, and don’t try anything,’ said Jenna, following Brook as she started down the track.

  Brook knew that she was almost certainly walking to her death. And yet she was more shocked than terrified, finding it hard to come to terms with the fact that someone could hate her this much. ‘What have I ever done to hurt you?’ she asked over her shoulder, needing to know.

  ‘Your whole life hurts me,’ answered Jenna, venom in her voice.

  Brook had to try to create some kind of bond between them and personalize this, appealing to the detective’s better nature. ‘Did we have the same father? Is that what all this is about?’

  ‘I have no father. But the man who impregnated my mother and left her as if she was nothing – who left us – is the same man who fathered you, yes. You had everything. I had nothing. It wasn’t fair.’ She spat out these last three words, and Brook could tell she was working herself into a fury, and that she’d probably rehearsed this conversation in her head a thousand times.

  ‘You’re a cop,’ said Brook. ‘You know that life isn’t fair. And it’s not my fault, either, that my dad left you and your mom like that. Did you kill him and my mother?’ Jenna didn’t answer, and Brook felt a flash of anger. ‘Because if you did, you’ve ruined my life already.’

  ‘But tha
t’s not what happened, is it?’ said Jenna. ‘You made money out of their deaths with your books, and your TV appearances, and all your New Age life-coaching bullshit. You didn’t suffer. You’ve never suffered.’

  Brook stopped and turned to face her. ‘Of course I fucking suffered. I lost my parents. At least you have your mother. You murdered my parents. What sort of monster are you?’

  ‘I’m not the monster here. You know who the monster really was. Your father. When I came here to California, I tried to connect with him. I turned up at his house one day when your mother was out. I told him I was prepared to forgive him, and do you know what he said?’ She shook her head angrily. ‘He said I must have made a mistake. That there was no way I was his daughter. Then he slammed the door in my face, just like he did with Mom. He slammed the door on his own fucking daughter.’

  ‘And that was wrong of him, but please don’t blame me for it. I’m nothing to do with any of that.’

  Jenna King’s expression turned cold. ‘I don’t want to hear it. Get moving or I’ll do you here right now and leave you out for the animals to eat. No one will hear a thing.’

  It was quiet out there. Brook couldn’t hear anything except the crickets and the occasional cry of a bird. It felt utterly strange being threatened with death by her last blood relative left on earth. ‘We could have been friends, you know,’ she said, disbelief in her voice. ‘It didn’t have to be like this.’

  Jenna’s expression didn’t change. ‘Of course it had to be like this. You’re the bitch who stole my life. And now I’m taking it back from you.’

  ‘But you’re not, are you? You’re not taking back anything. By trying to destroy me, you’re only destroying yourself. You can’t get away with this. You can’t simply bring Paige up as your own and hope for the best. She’ll have to go to school. You’ll be found out, and then the police will work out that you’re the one behind all this.’