26

 

The door flung open and Austin came in. Sara pushed back into the bed as he crossed the room. She winced as he ripped the tape off her mouth.

“Are you going to behave now?”

Sara ran her tongue over her dry, sore lips. It wouldn’t matter one way or the other. “I can’t feel my feet. And my arms hurt.”

Austin untied the rope from her wrists and ankles, leaving the handcuffs on. She sat on the edge of the bed, her feet and arms burning as the blood poured back into them. She eased her wrists against the handcuffs. They were bloodied where she’d struggled so much.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“Please.”

“Stay there.” Leaving her unbound, he left the room.

As the key turned in the door, Sara pulled herself upright. She gasped with pain as her swollen feet took her weight, but she shuffled across to the window. She peeped through the curtains. She was on the shoreline, perhaps in one of those cottages Luke had photographed. Was that their house on the hilltop?

Footsteps echoed on the stairs. She shuffled back to the bed, sitting down as the door opened.

Austin came in with a tray which he put on the bedside table. Sara glanced at the tray and counted four steaming mugs. “What’s in those?”

“Soup and coffee.”

“Why four?”

He smiled. “One each. You choose which one you want, and I’ll have the other. That way you know I haven’t poisoned them. Which soup?”

Poisoned? But what choice do I have? “The one on the left.”

His eyes fixed on her face, and he kept his voice low. “I warn you now, you try what you did to Phil earlier, and you will regret it.” He held out the cup to her.

Confused by the good villain, bad villain thing they had going, Sara wasn’t going to argue. She needed to eat if she were going to get out of here. She took the mug and sipped it. The thick, creamy soup had never tasted so good. It was hot, too, not lukewarm like she expected. She drank deep and fast, in case he changed his mind and took it away. His constant gaze made the hair rise on the back of her neck.

Austin put his empty mug down and took hers. He offered her the two coffees. Sara took one and drained it. She put it down. Austin finished his coffee and put the cup down.

He smirked at her. “Now, can I trust you not to do anything stupid if I don’t tie you up?”

Sara glared at him. “What do you think?”

Austin sighed. “I thought we were past this, Sara.”

He grabbed the long rope that Phil had used the previous night and fastened it between the headboard and the cuffs.

Sara shook her head. “Not past this and never will be.”

“You can move within this room but no further. Leave the curtains closed.” Austin put the cups on to the other tray and stacked the two trays together.

“What happened to DC Collins?”

“He’s dead.”

Sara closed her eyes, sorrow filling her. “Why?”

“He saw my face. Why else?”

“Oh…” she whispered.

“Seriously…He’s one of mine, and if I can’t kill my own bent coppers when they’ve served their purpose, who can I kill?” Austin left the room, locking the door behind him.

Sara shuffled back to the window. Collins was working for the bad guys? She hoped that was a lie, like so many of the lies she’d been told. And why did they take away the phone? She could have called for help. She had to hope and pray that her call from the war memorial made it. She glanced up at the hill, more convinced than ever it was their house. Could he see her, too? Maybe she could put something in the window…

She toed off her shoes and bending awkwardly picked them up and shoved them on the window sill behind the curtains. But would Luke understand, that’s if he could see them.

Footsteps echoed on the stairs. Sara sat on the bed and closed her eyes, trying to calm her breathing. Footsteps stopped outside the door, and the key turned in the lock. Now what did they want?

Phil stood there with a plastic bottle in his hands. “I got you a drink.”

Sara pushed herself upright. “What is it?”

“Water. The boss doesn’t want you dehydrating.” Phil set the bottle down next to her and stood back against the wall.

Sara took a deep breath. How far could she push him before he snapped? “No thanks. I don’t want it.”

“You will drink it.”

“I had coffee a few minutes ago, so no thanks.” Sara didn’t want to cooperate with these men anymore.

She sat still as Phil crossed the room and sat next to her. As he held out the bottle to her, she knocked it away. Then she lashed out at him, hitting him where ever she could, giving into her fear and frustration.

He took it for a minute, grinning at her.

“Phil. A word.” Austin’s voice came from the doorway.

Phil got up and moved to the door. “What is it?”

The two men’s voices were too quiet for Sara to hear, but watching their expressions, she knew she was in trouble.

Phil turned and moved back over to the bed. He grabbed her arm and turned her towards him. His hand moved to her neck, and he gripped her tightly, making her gasp. “I suppose you think you’re clever.”

“What are you talking about?” Sara tried to loosen his grip.

“You used your mobile phone to ring home.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You rang home. The police have the tape.” Phil’s grip tightened and he tossed her hard into the headboard.

Winded, Sara gasped for breath, stuttering an answer. “Oh….”

Phil hit the wall above her head, his fingers missing her by an inch. “That was a very stupid thing to do. They traced the call you made.”

She gave him a defiant stare. She was terrified, but they would find her. She had to hold on to that thought.

The tips of his fingers made contact with her cheek. “We know you don’t own a phone. Whose was it?”

Sara swallowed, panic rising within her. “It doesn’t matter. You took it away.”

“Who. Did. It. Belong. To?” Each word was punctuated with his hand hammering the headboard.

Sara dared not push it anymore. “I borrowed it.”

Phil dropped his hand to her throat, his tone low and deadly. “So whose phone was it?”

“My husband’s.”

Phil’s hand tightened. “Husband? You have no husband.”

“OK. It’s Luke’s.”

“Your cop friend?”

“Yes. It’s his phone. I promise.”

Phil dropped her and left the room. Sara lay where he had left her. She began to shake, more frightened than she had ever been. How long would it be before Luke came for her? Please, Lord, keep me alive until he does.

 

****

 

Luke sat at the computer, opened the photo folder, and flicked through the pictures he’d taken the previous week. Enlarging them one by one, he remembered standing in the pouring rain taking them.

Carole sat next to him. “That’s the one she’s painting now.”

“Part of it, yes. I was wondering which photo she used for the shoreline.”

“Ye have nae found it?”

“Yes, of course I have. That’s why I’m still looking,” he snapped. Then he paused. This wasn’t Carole’s fault. “Sorry. No, I haven’t. Maybe you could help. A second pair of eyes and all that.”

“If I can.”

Luke went through the photos, slower this time.

Carole pointed. “That’s almost it but not quite. The cottages are the wrong way around.”

Luke flicked his eyes from the photo to the painting. “You’re right.” He flipped the photo a hundred and eighty degrees and compared it to the painting. “Very close, but the angle is different, not just the rotation. It’s almost as if she’s seeing it from a different view point. She doesn’t go out anywhere, so it must be somewhere she’s seen from the car en route to church or the hospital but the harbor and beach are nowhere near either place. I don’t do a detour like that enough for the detail in the painting.” He clicked through the rest of the photos. In the last one was a figure and a dog.

“Who’s that?”

“Someone mad enough to be out in a rainstorm.”

“Like ye then.”

Luke scowled. “I wasn’t walking a dog.”

“Nay, ye were standing in it taking photos. That’s a totally different scenario all together.” Carole peered at the screen. “Can ye enlarge it tae make him a bit bigger?”

“Yeah.” Luke cropped and enlarged the photo. “There you go.”

Carole frowned at it. “I’m sure I have seen him somewhere before. I don’t remember where.”

“That’s what Sara said. Told her all you Brits look the same.”

The doorbell rang. “I’ll get it.” Luke answered the door and let Dave in. “Hi.”

Dave hung his coat up. “What’s up? Ye look upset. Did something happen?”

Luke shrugged.

“Luke, talk tae me. What happened?” Still not getting an answer, Dave raised his voice. “If I find yer withholding information, Lieutenant, I don’t care if yer rank is higher than mine—”

Luke cut him off. “You’ll what? I just made the worst mistake of my career. There’s nothing you can do or say to make it worse.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake. Cut the self-pity, and tell me what happened before I really do bring charges against ye.”

“Just feel so helpless. Don’t like being this side of the desk, that’s all.”

Dave put a hand on Luke’s shoulder and softened his voice. “Then let’s pray for a few minutes.”

Luke managed a faint smile. “I’d like that. Thanks.”