Kill For Me (Detective Hannah Robbins Crime Series Book 5)

  Contents

  Kill For Me

  Books in the series

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Kill For Me

  Rebecca Bradley

  Text copyright © 2019 Rebecca Bradley

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Cover art by Design for Writers.

  Do you want to claim your FREE copy of Three Weeks Dead, the prequel novella to Shallow Waters, Made to be Broken, Fighting Monsters, The Twisted Web and Kill For Me? I’d love it if you joined my readers’ club and joined the many others who have enjoyed the book that comes before the experience you are about to embark upon.

  The great thing about Three Weeks Dead is that it can be read before or after Shallow Waters.

  View it now.

  1

  Lucy looked at the clock on her dashboard. She only had ten minutes to get to the school to collect Faith and the journey took just under fifteen minutes in the best conditions, but today, today was horrendous. She looked at the queued traffic in front of her, the red brake lights that glared angrily at her to match her mood, her stomach twisting in knots. She would be late. Faith would worry and probably start to cry. She was four years old and the morning visits to nursery were enough for her at the minute until she started full-time school next year.

  Faith was an easy-going child, but she liked routine. If she didn’t know what was happening, she would stress. Lucy hoped one of the teachers would say the right thing to keep her calm.

  Lucy had no idea what had happened to build up the traffic like this but she had been pushing it anyway. She had left the doctors’ surgery she worked at a couple of minutes late as she had picked up the phone instead of walking away and leaving it to one of her colleagues. She should have known better. Old Mr Jones had been on the other end of the line and no amount of cajoling would get him off until he had said all he wanted to say. When asked the reason he needed an appointment he thought this was an ideal time to give the whole medical history. Lucy had tried to get him to jump ahead, to curtail him and tell him she had it, but he had ignored her and kept on and she couldn’t cut him off. She’d be in big trouble if she hung up on a patient.

  The cars crawled forward and she could finally see there were new roadworks ahead of her. Her fingers tapped on the steering wheel, impatience skittering through her veins.

  After ten minutes she pushed past the temporary traffic lights as they changed to red and put her foot down to be the last car through. The last couple of miles went by in a blur as her mind raced with the possibilities of her daughter’s state. Her gorgeous beautiful daughter. She was so very proud of her and hated to let her down, but it happened sometimes, being a single mum. She couldn’t be everything to her all the time, no matter how hard she tried. And she did. She tried to be it all. The good parent and the bad parent who disciplined. It was hard to strike that balance. To find a middle ground where Faith knew she was loved and secure, but where rules were in place, like bed times and eating at the table together.

  The school was in sight.

  Lucy let out a breath of relief and bowed her head to thank whoever needed thanking that she wasn’t any later. Her phone pinged in her pocket but she ignored it.

  She reversed into a parking spot, climbed out the car and closed the door behind her with a slam.

  Her phone pinged again.

  She ran into the school playground where children were playing. Those children who were either brave enough to stay all day or were waiting to start the afternoon session. She recognised Faith’s teacher on playground duty, Mr Hughes, and ran up to him. She wished it wasn’t him. Not after what had happened with him. It shouldn’t matter anymore, but Lucy still felt a tingle of… what? Embarrassment? Even though they were trying to sweep it under the carpet.

  ‘Oh gosh, I’m so sorry I’m late,’ she gushed at him. ‘It was one of our older patients on the phone and then there were roadworks. It’s been a nightmare.’ She looked at the teacher who wore a confused look. ‘But I’m here now,’ she finished, looking around for Faith, who she had expected to be clinging to Mr Hughes for grim death while she waited for her mum. She must be inside, too upset to be outside with everyone else. Poor mite. ‘Is she inside?’

  ‘’Ms Anderson?’ Mr Hughes looked concerned, gone was the hurt look he usually tried to hide, now there was a furrow of eyebrows over his dark eyes. ‘Why are you here?’

  ‘To collect—’

  Her phone pinged again. There was an insistence to it.

  ‘To collect Faith of course.’

  ‘But, you texted us, you told us a friend was picking her up early for a dentist appointment and you couldn’t get out of work on time. He came by and took her. We only let him because the text came from your number.’

  The ground shifted under her. The grey flat concrete moved like an escalator, tilting upwards. Lucy pushed her hands outwards to steady herself.

  ‘It said what?’ Her voice was little more than a dry croak.

  ‘That Faith had a dental appointment and your friend was to pick her up ten minutes early.’ Concern flashed across Mr Hughes’ face. ‘Do we have a problem, Ms Anderson?’

  Lucy pulled her phone from her pocket. It had come from her phone? The phone that had been beeping her the last ten minutes. There were four text messages. All from the same unknown number. They all said the same thing.

  I have Faith. Do not go to the school. Await further instructions. Do not alert the police or you will never see her again.

  2

  ‘Ms Anderson?’ The teacher was ignoring a child that was hanging on to his leg as Lucy clung to her phone, fingers tight around the device, brain screaming incoherently at her. White noise that she couldn’t make sense of.

  The children in the playground blurred in front of her eyes. Her breath caught in her chest and was pressing down into her diaphragm. She couldn’t breathe. The tips of her fingers on the phone tingled. It was as though she didn’t belong in this body. The ground tilted, Lucy bent over, placed a hand on her knee in an attempt to stay upright. She sucked in air hard.

  ‘Is everything alright, Ms Anderson, with Faith?’ The teacher’s concern was seeping through the sound in her brain.

  You will never see her again.

  The pressure built up in her chest, Lucy gasped hard for air.

  Mr Hughes placed a hand on Lucy’s arm, gentle and guiding. ‘Come inside, we’ll call the police.’ A quiet whisper to the child at the side of him, ‘Go and find Mrs Grainger and she’ll sort you out.’ He started to herd Lucy towards the school building. Police. He’d said police.

  This jolted Lucy enough to be able to speak, to make some kind of decision, if only that she needed time to make a decision. She needed to get away from the eyes of Mr Hughes and find some space for herself. Call the number back. Talk to Faith. Know she was okay.

  ‘No. No. It’s fine. I sent that message then managed to get away, but then got tied up and in the mess forgot I sent my friend.’ She turned to walk away. Away from the grip of Mr Hughes. ‘I’m sorry to do this to you.’ She was taking big strides. Trying not to run, which would look suspicious after her behaviour just now. But her legs were itching to get back to her car so she could read the message again and then phone the number. It was as if there was electricity running through her.

  ‘If you’re sure?’ Mr Hughes voice was uncertain. ‘Ms Anderson?’ he shouted out as Lucy moved further away.

  Lucy couldn’t stop h
erself. As she neared the gate she made a run for it. Her legs pumping hard as she flew towards her car, parked down the road. It seemed as though it was moving away from her as she bolted towards it. Then she was there and she ran into it with a body slam. Her breath hot and heavy, her throat dry, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. She opened her bag.

  ‘Fuck.’ Her keys were in her bag somewhere, tossed carelessly inside when she thought she’d be able to stand at the side of the road a minute searching for them with Faith at her side chattering about her morning, not like this, not in fear for Faith’s life. Her hands shook as she moved bits of paper, her purse, a lipstick, her phone, a bag of sweets.

  ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’

  A woman on the other side of the road looked across at her with disdain. This would have upset Lucy on any other day, but this was not any other day. This was the day a madman had picked up her daughter from school and was threatening to kill her.

  ‘Fuck.’ She cursed again, just before she wrapped her hands around her keys. Her fingers were numb, like they weren’t her own, as though someone else were controlling them. She fumbled with the lock on the car. Failing to push the key into the lock then unable to twist it. Eventually she was in. She pulled the door, threw herself inside and grabbed her phone and pulled the car door behind her at the same time.

  She needed to speak to this man. She needed her daughter back. Whatever he wanted she would give him. She didn’t have much but she would give him it all to get Faith back. She pawed at the screen, opened up the messages and read them again. No police. Never see her again.

  Lucy opened the car door and vomited onto the pavement, splattering sour liquid back up into her hair. The smell foul and acrid. She didn’t care. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, sticky and yellow, closed the door with a slam, the violent scent of vomit in the enclosed space barely registering as she dialled the number that had sent the text message.

  She was going to get her daughter back and she would do anything to make sure that happened.

  3

  The phone rang. Lucy waited, vibrating with shock and fear. Had she done the right thing to run away from the school, from Mr Hughes. He had wanted to help her, to shepherd her into the safety of the school building, but Lucy had bolted. She had taken heed of the words on the screen. Her first instinct was to protect her daughter and that meant following the orders that were directed at her. But now, as she listened to the familiar tone of a ringing phone, she wasn’t so sure of herself or her actions. Surely the police were best placed when a child had been taken? What the hell had she done? Would they really hurt her baby? How was she supposed to know? She had no idea who they or he or even she was. All Lucy knew was that Faith must be terrified and she had to get her back home safe.

  The phone rang off. There was no answer. Lucy pulled it away from her ear and stared at the screen. No answer. How could they do this to her? They must have demands. Instructions. Something they needed so that she could get Faith back. They didn’t just want Faith. In fact they had implied if she went along with them that she would see her again. So they must want something in exchange for her.

  Suddenly Lucy had something to cling onto. She clicked into the text message again to confirm what she had figured out.

  Do not alert the police or you will never see her again.

  Or you will never see her again. Yes. This implied that if she didn’t go to the police that she would see Faith again. Her heart lifted in her chest. She was going to see Faith again. It would be okay. All she had to do was what they said and Faith would be home.

  Lucy scrubbed a hand over her face, frustration driving her every movement. She needed them to answer the phone so she knew what she had to do.

  She dialled the number again.

  A woman walked down the street, at the side of the car, hand-in-hand with a young boy. He looked to be about the same age as Faith. Probably in the same nursery and had been collected on time. He was skipping, his mum’s arm waving along with him as he jolted her about with each little jump.

  Oh Faith, Mummy is coming to get you. I will give them anything for you, sweetheart.

  The dialling tone ended again.

  Lucy screamed into the steering wheel. Why wouldn’t they answer? How could she give them what they wanted if they wouldn’t answer?

  She screamed again.

  There was a knock at her window.

  She jumped in her seat.

  An elderly gentleman was stooped over peering into the car. Lines ran out from his eyes and underneath them. His skin soft looking, like fine dough she would be able to knead if she reached out and touched him. She pressed the button and the window moved down an inch.

  ‘You okay, love?’ he asked with kindness in his voice. ‘Can I do anything?’

  She so wished he could do something to help her.

  ‘Love?’

  Lucy realised she hadn’t answered him as his face pushed to the window. She placed her palm against the glass. The coolness seeped into her skin. Grounded her a little, reminded her of where she was and what she was doing.

  ‘I’m fine, thank you. A little frustrated with life, that’s all.’

  The old gentleman laughed, the small lines running from his eyes deepened. ‘Oh I understand that one alright. But don’t let it get you in that state, love. You need to laugh in its face, don’t let it drag you down.’ He paused, looked down the street as though an answer would appear there for him. ‘Can I do anything to help?’

  ‘No. No, thank you.’ She was so grateful for his thoughtfulness, but she needed for him to go so she could call the number again.

  The phone pinged in her hand. Lucy jumped. Her heart flew into her mouth. She scrabbled about, nearly dropping the phone in the eagerness to get the screen to face her.

  It was the same unknown number.

  ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ The old man sounded concerned.

  ‘Yes, yes, thank you.’ She pushed the button and the window back up. The old man pursed his lips at her and scratched his head. He muttered something under his breath and turned and walked away.

  She was alone again.

  She pressed through to the message.

  Go home and await instructions.

  That was it. Go home and await instructions. They expected her to just wait? In this state? She was expected to wait?

  She pressed the dial button again and listened, but instead of it ringing out the call was rejected. She pressed through again, and again the call was rejected.

  Another text came through.

  Go home and await instructions.

  She wanted to scream again but she would draw attention to herself and she had no idea how this was going to play out or what she was going to do. She was still parked outside the school. She could still go inside and call the police.

  Another text came.

  Do not call the police or you will never see her again. And I will know, trust me on that.

  What, did they have a scanner in her head?!

  She couldn’t risk Faith’s life. She had to do as they said for now and maybe change her mind later on, depending on what their demands were.

  Why were they even doing this? It wasn’t as though she had any money to speak of. She worked part-time in a doctors’ surgery.

  Lucy looked back at the school. The bell had been rung, the kids were queuing with their teachers to go back inside. Parents were dropping the afternoon children off. Safety was back there. But not safety for her. Not safety for Faith. Safety for Faith was back at home.

  Lucy started the engine.

  4

  The three-bedroom semi that Lucy and Faith shared on Peter’s Close, Arnold, felt as though it had no soul when Lucy pushed the front door open. Faith added the soul to the house and right now Faith was supposed to be running about asking what she could have for her lunch. Lucy’s scalp prickled as she closed the door behind her and she was left alone in the hallway. The silence was oppressi
ve, like being under a winter quilt when the sun was shining. She just wanted to get out from under it, but there was no escape from this. Nowhere to go. She had been told to go home and that’s where she was. This was supposed to be her safe space but that had been torn away from her. It was as though the walls were watching her. Her every move stilted and foreign because she was sure they knew what she was doing.

  She walked through to the kitchen and dropped her bag onto the counter, fished out her phone and texted the number back.

  I’m home. Now what?

  She couldn’t simply wait for demands. She needed to push this along.

  The silence continued. She wanted to claw the hair right out of her head. She wanted to run from the house and not come back. But where would she run to and why was she running? She scratched at her arms as she paced around the small kitchen.

  The complete silence and lack of Faith in the house was unbearable.

  Faith, oh Faith sweetie. What is happening to you? This thought slammed into her brain like a speeding train and whipped the breath out of her. Tears flooded her eyes. She hadn’t had time to process what all this meant until she got in the house and time had at last slowed for her to think. Now she had to consider what they had her for and what they were doing to her. It felt as though her insides were being carved in half. She wrapped her arms around herself, bent over and the tears spilled.

  ‘Faith,’ she wailed. ‘Faith, oh Faith.’ The pain was immense. She was alone and she had no idea who or what was happening to her darling daughter. She had to get her back. Lucy stepped backwards as she cried and she hit the wall with a thud where she allowed herself to slide down to the floor. The tears came relentlessly. Her baby was with strangers and would want her mummy. How could this have happened?

  Was she cold? Had they hurt her? Where were they keeping her? Did she know she had been abducted or were they still pretending they had picked her up on the say-so of her mummy. Oh sweet, sweet girl. Please be okay and think that Mummy is on her way. Be eating too many sweets and sugary drinks. Be kicking your feet on a sofa and watching a cartoon. Be talking too much about lions and zebras and giraffes. Feel safe and unconcerned.