That night, Amanda saw Gregg McAllister when she closed her eyes. She lay in her hotel room, her body stiff, as she remembered the way he threw his head back with jovial abandon, how he laughed so heartily that his whole body shook. He had been the life of the party, the light source which everyone was drawn to. No one cowered when he raised a hand to make a point, no one paled when he locked eyes with them. To the people in the club, Gregg McAllister was not a monster, he was simply a man. And a popular one at that.
Is that how he’d once lured a young and impressionable Will, back when he’d been Jake, into his cause? Had Amanda’s late husband watched McAllister in clubs with envious eyes, wishing he had his money, his success?
McAllister was a man in his late forties, early fifties. A man who was wealthy, powerful. Popular. A man who elevated himself to be something more than his peers.
Shane hadn’t been impressed by the suited man with the Glasgow smile. ‘He certainly fits the profile,’ he’d muttered as he drew his glass up towards his lips. He’d looked unsettled. Did he too feel sickened to gaze upon the man behind Will’s murder? McAllister hadn’t been there, his finger hadn’t been on the trigger of the gun which fired the killing shot, but Amanda knew it might as well have been.
At some point, Amanda’s troubled thoughts drifted into dreams. She was back home, walking along the cliffside with her father next to her. Though she was grown, he was frozen in time, forever forty-five. They walked together in an easy silence as a salty breeze blew in from the ocean and whipped through their hair. Amanda joyfully filled her lungs with the crisp, clean air. In the distance she saw someone running, moving away from them. Looking at the dark hair and broad shoulders, her heart gave a squeeze as she instantly knew it was Will. Amanda started hurrying after him. She broke into a sprint as Will kept running, kept moving away from her.
‘Will!’ she yelled for him in between breaths as she kept sprinting. ‘Will!’
A hand grabbed her arm, forcing her to a halt. Amanda spun around and looked into the kind eyes of her father.
‘You can keep running,’ he said, ‘but you’ll never catch him.’
‘Amanda?’
She felt pressure on her arm. Real pressure. With a gasp, she opened her eyes. A soft grey light covered the hotel room. It was morning. Turning her head, she saw Shane sat up beside her, one hand still on her arm which he’d been shaking.
‘You were having a nightmare,’ he said apologetically. ‘You kept calling out Will’s name.’
‘Oh.’ The dream was still in the room, still fogging up her thoughts. Why had Will been running from her? And why couldn’t she catch him?
‘Why don’t you shower while I go grab us some breakfast?’ Shane suggested kindly, already slipping off the bed and pulling on a jumper and jeans.
‘Sure, thanks.’ Amanda rubbed at her eyes, she wanted to retreat back into the dream, wanted to ask her father what she should do. Because he always knew best, always knew which direction she should take with her life. But he was gone, just like Will.
*
During her reconnaissance mission to the club, Amanda had learned several things about Gregg McAllister. He was clearly social and well-liked by those around him. He liked to drink. Amanda hadn’t lingered in the club for long after sighting her target but during that time he’d drained several glass tumblers of whisky and eagerly gestured to a waiter for more. But more than drink, McAllister liked beautiful women. Each time a fresh face twisted out some moves on the dance floor he’d call them over to his booth, draw them into the fold.
‘So which way is our in?’ Amanda asked, looking thoughtfully at Shane. They were back in the Starbucks just down from their hotel. It was late morning and the bodies inside had thinned out so that only a handful of tables were occupied. Amanda had been sipping on the same cappuccino for almost forty minutes.
‘Our in?’
‘Ideally I need to get close enough to him to get to his phone. If I could clone it I could access to all his files. His contacts.’
‘And how are you going to get close enough to him to relieve him of his phone?’ Shane sounded annoyed. ‘If your plan is to get a job at the club and pinch it at the coat check, I’m not sure time is on our side.’
‘He likes his drink. He likes his women.’ Amanda listed the facts off on her long fingers.
‘So at this point he’s pretty much your average guy.’
‘But one of those has to create an in for us.’
Shane leaned back in his chair and gave her a long, levelled look. He clearly already knew where she was going with the conversation. ‘No,’ he concluded flatly, his jaw clenching.
‘Just let me—’
‘No. Absolutely not.’
‘But, Shane—’
‘You are not tarting yourself up to get that man’s attention. Why the hell would you even want to do that?’
‘To get to his phone,’ Amanda deadpanned. ‘That’s the goal.’
‘Is it?’
‘If I can clone his phone, I can give Turtle all the information they’d need to take him down. I’m sure of it.’
‘Watching McAllister is one thing,’ Shane lowered his voice, ‘but engaging with him… Christ, Amanda, do you have any idea how dangerous that is? The man’s a criminal. A killer. And for all you know he already knows exactly what you look like.’
‘It’s a risk I have to take.’
‘Amanda,’ he sighed her name and looked down at his hands in despair.
‘I’m doing this.’
‘You always do this. You always take things too far.’ Shane had tears in his eyes.
‘Do you have a better idea of how to get his phone? Should we mug him in the street? Do you want to shadow him when he goes to take a piss? My plan is the one least likely to get us both killed.’
Shane said nothing. Amanda took his silence as compliance.
*
Now that Amanda had a plan she wasn’t sure how comfortable she felt about following through with it. She was in a department store across from Starbucks browsing the racks of their more fashionable designer section. Shane had sulked off back to the hotel, heading to the gym to work out his frustrations. Amanda was glad to be alone. As she eyed a short leather skirt, she knew that if Shane had accompanied her on her little shopping trip he’d just have vetoed every outfit. Amanda needed to do more than blend in at the club the next time she went – she needed to catch McAllister’s eye and that wasn’t going to be easy. The club had been packed full of gorgeous women, all of them slim and doe-eyed.
A red sequined top with a plunging neckline caught Amanda’s eye. She grabbed her size and held it against the leather skirt. She feared that the combination would make her look more cabaret than sexy. With a sigh, she placed the garments back and kept searching, drifting amongst the clothes racks like a piece of tumbleweed.
Clothes shopping was certainly not her forte. She always opted for function over fashion. Her mother, on the other hand, would have been in her element. She’d have cooed over every item that sparkled, held up countless dresses against Amanda insisting that her daughter would look fabulous in each and every one. Corrine loved to shop, loved to accessorise with anything that twinkled. Amanda had inherited her father’s pragmatism when it came to clothes. She wished that her mother was there to guide her, or at the very least pick out an outfit which would make her look more seductress than stripper.
Thinking about her mother made a thread of guilt knot its way across her chest and creep up her throat. She should call home. Pulling out her mobile, Amanda quickly figured out what time it was in Vegas and withheld her number before selecting the landline for the little cottage by the coast. Her mum answered after four rings.
‘Hello?’ Corrine sounded uncertain, caught off guard.
‘Mum, hey, it’s me.’
‘Oh, Amanda,’ instant jubilation on the other end of the line. ‘It’s so lovely to hear from you, sweetheart. We were just wondering how you were, weren’t we?’
For a split second she assumed Corrine was referring to Amanda’s father. That had been the ‘we’ which dominated her early life. But of course the old woman was talking about Ewan. Cracking a smile, Amanda wandered towards a clothes rack filled with cocktail dresses.
‘I hope he’s behaving for you, Mum. Not being too much trouble.’
‘Not at all,’ Corrine insisted brightly. Then, lowering her voice, ‘I managed to convince him to move on to some of the old movies you loved when you were little. I even dusted off the video player and hooked it back up.’
‘Way to go, Mum.’
‘He’s been loving the American tale with the mouse. And Land Before Time. Oh and Labyrinth,’ Corrine’s voice was rosy with nostalgia. ‘He’s loved them all, Amanda. Just like you used to. I told him that, tonight, if he keeps being a good boy, we’ll watch Dark Crystal. Your father always loved that one.’
Amanda was surprised that her mother had kept the old stack of VHS movies that she’d watched repeatedly as a little girl every rainy afternoon after school.
‘How’s Vegas?’
The question drew Amanda back from the past.
‘It’s…’ She looked around at the department store, at the high ceilings and well-lit displays. ‘Very hot. And busy.’
‘Is your hotel nice?’
‘Lovely.’
‘What time is it there?’
‘Very early. I’m just about to head down to breakfast.’
‘And Shane? How’s he?’
‘He’s gone to the hotel gym for a bit.’ It felt good to be including some truths in her response.
‘That sounds about right. He’s become such a dedicated young man, always taking himself and his fitness seriously.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘And you two,’ Amanda heard a door close on her mother’s end of the line. ‘How are things between you?’
‘They’re… complicated. It’s all just difficult, Mum.’
‘I see.’ Corrine sounded disappointed, but she quickly recovered. ‘I wanted to ask if there was anything I could be doing to help with the funeral. I assume it will happen when you’re back.’
‘Funeral?’
‘For Will.’
Amanda circled the cocktail dresses twice, pulling in nervous breaths and willing herself not to cry. She hadn’t even thought about a funeral. About letting his boss at the warehouse know that Will wouldn’t be showing up for his next shift. Or any shift. To start going through the process of tying up loose ends, it felt too final.
‘The funeral will be in Scotland. A very small affair since he has no family left.’ Amanda coughed to clear her throat. Will deserved a funeral, a proper burial, but he wouldn’t be getting one. There had been nothing in the news about a trio of bodies discovered in woodlands. McAllister must have gotten there first and Amanda didn’t even want to consider how he’d have chosen to dispose of the bodies.
‘I see.’
‘I’m coming back from Vegas a day early to attend. And then I’m coming home.’
‘I know this is a very difficult, very confusing time for you, sweetheart.’
‘It sure is.’
‘I’m just glad you’ve had Shane by your side through it all.’
‘Yeah,’ Amanda agreed softly. ‘Me too.’
*
Amanda eventually decided on a black cocktail dress and peep-toe shoes which had red soles and promised to give her maximum comfort, at least according to the enthusiastic sales guy in the footwear department.
When Amanda returned to the hotel room, Shane was sat on the bed watching TV. His head shot up when she walked in and though she saw relief in his eyes his mouth remained held in a tight line.
‘How was the gym?’ she wondered politely as she dropped her bags down beside the desk.
‘You been shopping?’
‘I had to get a more… appropriate outfit.’
Shane grunted and said nothing more.
‘I called my Mum and she’s good. She said that Ewan is good too. He’s found some of my old videos and—’
‘I’m going to shower,’ Shane leapt off the bed as though the covers had suddenly caught on fire.
‘Shane—’
‘Don’t worry, I won’t be long. Then you can take all the time you want to preen and make sure you look real nice. We need our bait to work after all.’ He slammed the door behind him as he disappeared into the bathroom.
Dejected, Amanda went over to her laptop. She knew that Shane had every right to be mad at her but she wasn’t about to back down. McAllister needed to be brought to justice and if she had to smear on some lipstick and show a little leg to do that then so be it. She was just playing the hand she’d been dealt as best as she could.
On her laptop, Amanda quickly ordered a few items from Vegas to be delivered to the hotel. Souvenirs for her Mum and Ewan. Items to help solidify her story that she’d spent these two weeks in the gambling capital of the world. Pictures were going to be an issue, which was why Amanda planned on sabotaging her phone on the way home, thus opportunely losing any pictures she might have taken whilst on holiday.
While she was shopping for gifts, she got an alert. There was a new message fromTurtle82. Amanda hastily read it.
To bring down the man you bring down the mainframe. Find out where it is.
T.
She read the message back, cradling her head in her hands as she rested her elbows upon the desk.
The mainframe meant his hard drive. The place where he housed all his most sensitive digital material. That would not be kept on his phone. It would be a computer or laptop somewhere, probably at his house. Amanda groaned and closed her eyes. Turtle wasn’t just asking her to spy on McAllister anymore, he was asking her to get access to the man’s home. And how the hell was she supposed to do that? Flirting with him was one thing, diverting his attention so that she could slip his phone from his pocket and run a cloning scan on it was do-able. Getting an invite back to his place – that was taking things to a whole other level.
Amanda leaned back in her chair, glancing towards the bathroom where she could hear the shower running, the hot water hissing angrily as it helped rinse away some of Shane’s tension. How would he respond to this development? He’d surely be furious. He might even veto Amanda’s plan altogether. Because it was getting dangerous.
The hair on Amanda’s arms rose up as though the air around her had become electrified. She wasn’t just going to meet the wolf, she was going to ask it to take her back to its den. How was she supposed to come out of such a situation alive?
Her fingers started to dance across her laptop’s keyboard, her mind having already arrived at a solution. She remained on the darknet, which was a digital marketplace for anything and everything illegal. Drugs, guns, even murder, could be purchased on there for the right price. And the price was usually bitcoins. They were a digital currency which couldn’t be traced and were extremely high in value. Amanda had bought some two years ago when they were new and going cheap. She was always drawn to any new technology or developments in the online world. The bitcoins that she had she’d intended to save for a rainy day.
Beyond her hotel window the sun was shining and the sky was a clear sea of blue. Amanda didn’t need to get up and check to know that the white van was outside. Each time she caught a glimpse of it in her peripheral vision she felt ice slide down her spine. She couldn’t ignore the crippling unease which told her not to trust its presence there. She tapped her hands against her laptop, drawing herself back in to the moment. Amanda knew she’d need to part with at least some of her coins. She didn’t want to face McAllister unprotected.
Her screen was instantly filled with images of guns – all for sale. There were handguns, discreet enough to fit inside a handbag, assault rifles and even mini guns. All were available for the right price. Amanda felt sick just looking at them. Will had carried a gun when he’d gone on the run, had even aimed it at her when she’d managed to track him down. She swallowed as tears began to silently fall down her cheeks. He’d felt driven to arm himself and now she understood why. McAllister was a dangerous serpent in an expensive suit.
Amanda’s stomach churned as she continued browsing the weapons. There were so many guns. The choice was staggering. Each buyer promised discretion. To buy a gun felt like crossing a line, like she was truly committing herself to this other life, the one she’d created on the darknet, the one that existed outside the usual boundaries of society.
The bathroom door opened and she exited the page and slammed her laptop closed. The weapon would have to wait. For now her focus was to make herself look as pretty as possible. It was time to dangle her bait in front of the King Carp in the hope that he’d bite.