Chapter Twenty

Kat thought it was pretty amazing how, if she tried really hard, she could pretend this was just an average Friday. Jake had disappeared by the time she’d woken, though he’d left a note and with it some vivid memories of how his hard, athletic body had spent the night tangling with hers. So once more it was just her and Molly on the trip to school. Of course they were tailed by an unmarked police car, but Kat found she could ignore that, just as she could ignore the butterflies in her stomach as she walked past the school wall where the watchful eye, now removed, had once glared at her.

She was going to get on with her life. There was no choice really, not with a daughter who she couldn’t afford to frighten, and a career that didn’t allow her time off during term time. Still, it was better this way. Far better than sitting at home, jumping out of her skin at every creak. Last night, when she’d heard Jake scream, she’d been terrified, convinced it was him being attacked. Afterward she’d wondered why the heck her first instinct had been to run toward the danger. In her heart she knew the answer. Her fear for Jake’s safety had been far greater than her fear for her own.

****

The highlight of Jake’s morning had easily been waking up next to Kat. It had taken a huge amount of will power to leave her sleeping when his body had ached to touch, to kiss. To make love to her again, like he had the night before. She’d looked so gorgeous, hair wild about her face, her sensuous lips slightly curved, as if the dream she was having was a good one. However, cutting into his erotic thoughts had been the knowledge that someone out there wanted to harm her. He was the key to knowing who it was, if only he could work it out. So instead of indulging himself, he’d dragged his tired body out of bed and into the cold truck. Several hours later he’d rolled up at his old police station.

The place hadn’t changed. It was eerily as he’d remembered it. Even down to the coffee stains on the dingy grey carpet. If he let it, he knew his mind would divert toward those terrible weeks and months after his wife and daughter’s deaths, when he’d wandered this building in a haze of grief, wracked with guilt, wanting to find out who’d murdered them. Wanting to kill that person. Wanting to then kill himself.

He shuddered against the chill that washed through him, and swallowed down the nausea that came out of nowhere into the back of his throat. No, he wasn’t going to have a panic attack. He was past all that, long past it.

Determinedly closing off the memories, he strode toward the front desk. “It’s Jake Holroyd to see Detective Inspector Mike Connolly,” he told the waiting receptionist. Connolly had been his partner. His best friend in the force. He was now the man Jake was relying on to help him work out who was after Kat. And him.

“Knew you couldn’t keep away.”

Jake swiveled round a few moments later to find Mike looming toward him, a giant grin on his usually dour face. He held out a hand but Mike ignored him and bundled him into a bear hug instead. Jake dreaded to think what they must look like to any onlookers. Two strapping men embracing in the station reception area.

“Jesus Mike, think about your reputation.” Jake pulled away. “And hell, if you’re not bothered about yours, think of mine.”

Laughing, Mike led the way through the warren of corridors and into his office. “Come in, sit down.” After Jake had tried to make himself comfortable on the plastic visitor’s chair, his friend’s face grew more serious. “Much as I’d love this to be a social call, I know it isn’t. Why don’t you fill me in?”

It was hard going through the details again. Admitting to a friend that he’d now, however unwittingly, managed to entangle two more people in the part of his life that he’d hoped he’d never have to revisit again.

“Well, you never were one for taking the easy route, were you?” Mike said finally when Jake had exhausted his explanation. He scratched his head. “Don’t suppose there’s any nice, juicy evidence? Finger print? Clothing? Footprint?”

Jake shook his head. “Nothing. But we know it’s a personal vendetta, against me. Before it could have been a random act of violence. Now we know I’m the connection to both.”

“Though he or she doesn’t seem to want to harm you, just people close to you,” Mike mused, twirling his pencil in his fingers as Jake had often watched him do. A sign he was mulling things over.

“Exactly. Why murder my family, but let me go? And now, with Kat and Molly, they seem hell bent on doing the same thing again. Taking away family number two.”

Mike raised his eyebrows. “Is that how you see them, Jake? Is it that serious?”

He could lie to himself, but he could never lie to his partner. “Yes.”

Mike swore. “Then we’d better find out who the hell is doing this and catch them, quick.” He gave Jake a sympathetic smile. “Wouldn’t want to see any man live through that a second time. Least of all you.”

“I couldn’t live through it again either,” Jake replied quietly.

Mike nodded his head, a gesture of total understanding. He’d seen Jake at his worst. “Let’s get to work then.”

****

They resurrected every collar Jake had ever made, checked through their whereabouts three years ago and today. Most had been or were still inside. None seemed to fit the profile of the person they were up against now. Jake couldn’t help but think the link was the family.

“Maybe it’s broader. Not a case I worked on, but one I was involved in.”

Mike tapped away on the computer again, scanned the screen. “Here’s the list of cases the department handled while you were working here. It’s a damned long list, but worth a trawl through.” He stood up, pulling back his chair. “I’ve got a couple of meetings I need to be at. Give me a shout if you come across anything.”

Jake moved round the desk to take Mike’s seat. It was going to be a long afternoon.

An hour into the search he went for a quick walk to stretch his legs. As his eyes scanned the office, and the men and women working at their desks, he recalled how much he’d once loved working here. Crazy but true. It made him realize that, much as he’d found a sense of calm and peace from his carpentry, it didn’t provide the deep-rooted satisfaction that detective work had given him. He missed the jibes from colleagues, the pitting of his brain against the evidence, the sense of pride when good overcame evil.

With a slight smile at his sudden whimsy, he walked back to Mike’s office and went back to his work. He was so engrossed in the reports that he didn’t notice Mike’s secretary come in and set him down a cup of coffee. Certainly didn’t notice the fact that her eyes lingered longingly over his face. He was oblivious to everything except the screen in front of him.

It was when he felt his heart thump against his ribs that Jake knew he was onto something. Wade Mitchell. He’d been sent down for ten years for armed robbery, but released early for good behavior. The date of Mitchell’s release was two weeks before the attack on his family. As he read through the details, Jake broke out in a cold sweat. The more he read, the more it seemed to fit. It hadn’t been his case, but one of Mike’s. However Jake had got involved because he’d actually witnessed the crime. It had happened not long after he’d joined the force. He’d had a day off and was minding his own business, shopping in the high street, when he’d heard the gun shots. Remembering the words of his trainer that a cop was never actually off duty, he’d called for backup and rushed to the scene. Sneaking up to the window, he’d tried to gauge what was happening. That was when he’d noticed one of the armed robbers temporarily removing his mask to wipe off the sweat.

Jake clicked on the additional information. Wade Mitchell had a family. Jake’s hand shook as he moved the mouse over the screen. Christ, he had a wife and daughter. That can’t be a coincidence. He would bet his life on it.

He leaped to his feet, his heart pounding away like the clappers, and was about to search for Mike when the man himself entered the office.

“I think I’ve got him,” he rasped, pulling the details out from the printer and handing them to Mike.

His friend scanned the page quickly. “I remember him.” Shutting the door, he sat down opposite Jake. “A real thug. Malicious, coldhearted.” He rubbed his forehead, clearly trying to remember the details. “Kicked up a real storm when his wife wouldn’t visit while we were holding him.” He looked over at Jake. “Go get yourself a drink. I’ll make a few phone calls. See what he’s been up to since we put him away.”

In a daze Jake wandered to the drinks machine and pushed some random buttons, uncaring of what came out. He opened the can, mechanically drank down the cold liquid. When he returned to Mike’s office, his thirst had gone, but the feeling of icy dread remained.

Mike didn’t beat about the bush. “Mitchell fits the profile,” he told him bluntly as soon as he sat down. “Apparently his wife filed for divorce as soon as he was convicted. She fled to an unknown location with his daughter. The guards at the prison say it tore him up.” Mike looked up at him. “He’s been back inside for the last few years, but was released again a month ago.”

The curse Jake let slip was loud and foul- mouthed. He wanted to string a few more together, but he knew it wouldn’t help. There was no doubt in his mind that Wade Mitchell was out to do to Jake what he believed Jake had done to him. Take away his family. He’d done it once. Now he’d clearly spied him with Kat and Molly and was planning to do it again.

Only this time Jake would make bloody sure he was there to stop him.

Saying his hasty good-byes, Jake dashed out of the station and climbed back into his truck. This time he wasn’t besieged by memories as he drove past the house he’d once lived in. This time his head was too full of Kat and Molly. He knew the identity of the person who was after them now, but the knowledge gave him no peace of mind. Quite the contrary, for he knew exactly what that man was capable of. He’d seen him with a shotgun, striking fear into the bank personnel. Even though he hadn’t been there, he could picture him with a knife in his hands, slashing Isabelle’s throat.

His hands gripped the wheel as he jammed his foot farther down on the accelerator. He wasn’t going to spend the rest of his life imagining him with Kat and Molly too. It wasn’t going to happen. This time he was going to get there first.

****

Wade kicked at the flat tire. Heaving out a sigh of frustration, he opened up the boot of the crappy car and pulled out the spare. At least it had one. He dumped it on the ground and reached in for the jack. As he set about changing the tire, he figured his plan was still on. Sure, this buggered up his timings a bit, but he reckoned he’d still be able to see off the woman and girl before Holroyd came home. Then, once he’d had the satisfaction of seeing the cop arrive home too late—again. Once he’d seen the cop experience the agony of knowing that he’d failed to save his second family—again. Then, and only then, would Wade put an end to Holroyd’s miserable existence as well.

It took him twenty minutes to change the tyre. A further ten to drive to the head’s cottage. He parked a few houses down, out of view of the cops who were watching the place. Before getting out, he reached into his trouser pocket and took out the crumpled photo of his wife and daughter. Ex-wife, and daughter who wouldn’t even remember him. Looking down at their happy, smiling faces, he wondered for the millionth time what his life might have been like if he hadn’t taken the balaclava off because he’d not been able to see for the sweat dripping into his eyes. If Holroyd hadn’t looked through the window at that exact moment. If the cop had chosen to keep his effing mouth shut.

But he hadn’t. And now he was going to pay.

Silently he climbed out of the car and shoved the two things he needed into the back of his trousers. A knife and a gun. Checking nobody was watching, he lugged a can out from the back seat and proceeded to douse the car with petrol. Best thing that could happen to the damn thing, he thought with disgust.

Coughing against the fumes, he walked away from the car, still pouring out the petrol, leaving a trail of it along the pavement. When he figured he’d left himself enough of a time margin, he snatched the lighter out of his pocket and, grinning maniacally, he touched the flame to the end of the petrol trail.

****

Kat had been home for half an hour and already the place seemed too quiet. She felt jittery, and kept looking outside her window to reassure herself that the police were still there. Molly must have sensed her mood because even she wasn’t saying much.

She wished Jake was back. It was hard to admit, even harder still to admit it wasn’t just Jake the ex-cop she missed, with his solid, reassuring presence, but also Jake the man, the lover. The friend to talk to.

With a sigh she stood up. Those thoughts weren’t going to get her anywhere.

“Molly, will you set the table please?”

Wanting normality, something to take her mind off the totally abnormal situation she was in, Kat began to prepare a salad to go with the breaded chicken that was cooking in the oven. Occasionally she glanced over at Molly, noting that without asking she was automatically setting the table out for three. Jake staying over was clearly becoming a habit. One Kat knew, when this was all over, they were going to have to discuss.

She understood now why he’d turned away from her when she’d first asked for his help. Having seen the way he still tortured himself over his role in his family’s death, she could accept why his belief that he’d let them down had led to him being unable to trust himself to protect her and Molly. What she didn’t know, was how he really felt about her. Whether he had any serious feelings for her, other than guilt that he’d got her into this mess. Even if he did care, she wasn’t sure he was ready for the type of relationship that she needed. One that required stability, commitment. Forever.

As she shrugged off her thoughts and reached into the fridge for the tomatoes, there was a loud explosion. Her hands froze, her heart stopped.

“What was that, Mum?”

She turned to find Molly staring at her, eyes wide with shock.

Rushing over to her, Kat cuddled her close. “I’m not sure,” she told her honestly. “Shall we take a look out of the window?”

Lifting Molly up into her arms, Kat walked toward the kitchen window. There she saw the police officers running toward a blazing car. Her arms sagged with relief. “It’s just a car that’s caught fire, Molly. Nothing to worry about.” Slowly she let Molly back down to the floor.

****

Wade watched the cops race toward the fire and thought how easy this was proving to be. Like taking candy from a baby. Once they were out of the way, he darted round the side of the house toward the patio doors. Then he slid the key he’d had made into the lock. It opened smoothly, silently, like a dream. Once he’d edged inside, he removed the gun from the back of his trousers and, with a buzzing sense of excitement, crept toward his first victims.