“Right. We need to act quickly. She’s not in there.”
Marcus stepped closer. “What’s going on, Johnny?”
Johnny shook his head like he couldn’t speak, then he pressed the button on his radio. “Coroner required. Deceased female, late thirties. Cause of death, strangulation. Estimated time of death a few hours ago, maybe longer. Identified as Lorraine Reed.”
“Holy fuck.” Jamie grabbed Marcus by the arm. “Where’s Lana?”
Marcus crouched in the driveway, holding his head in his hands. “It’s not her. She has to be alive. She has to be fucking alive.” He repeated with panted breath
s. He suddenly jumped up to a stand, his back straight and his hands curled to tight fists. “Where the fuck is she then. Have you searched the whole house?”
“Yes. You said you tracked your car to this address. There’s no Lexus here, Marcus.” Johnny crossed his arms.
“They’re not here.” He turned to Jamie. “Quick. The app. Track the car again.”
Jamie swiped his phone and loaded the app. A blue dot flashed at the harbour, twenty-three miles away.
7
The stench of fish grew stronger when Carl opened the door of the Lexus at the harbour.
“Stay in the car until I say so, okay, sweetheart.” He nodded towards a forty-foot cargo trailer lined up, ready to board the ferry. “This is our new home for the next few days. I feel like I should carry you over the threshold.” He laughed from his belly.
Back in the garage he had removed the rag from her mouth, freed her wrists, but then wrapped them up again in front of her pelvis so she could sit comfortably for the long journey ahead of them.
He wasn’t a monster. The girl needed comfort. How else would she fall in love with him?
He flicked open a pair of sunglasses, planning to cover her watery blue eyes. Her satiny pale cheek was coloured with a wash of purple, blue and a trace of red, like a pretty watercolour.
He had tidied up most of the blood on her face, but he wasn’t a fucking nurse. He did the best he could. The last thing he wanted was to mark her skin, but she deserved it at the time.
That’s what happens when people don’t listen—they pay the fucking price.
“This will hide that horrid bruise and stop you from making eye contact with anyone.” He carefully positioned the frames on the bridge of her nose and tapped them into place.
The lenses didn’t entirely cover the mark, but they suited her nonetheless. His shoulders bounced to his ears and he smashed his lips to her mouth.
Fucking hell, her mouth felt good. It won’t be long until it’s wrapped around my dick like a glove.
Lana didn’t say a word, she’d been warned to keep her pretty mouth shut, and the good girl was obedient now. One or two slaps knocked her into line.
Her body was stiff like a cardboard cut-out. That wouldn’t last long. Not when she was warm and relaxed.
Carl clambered out of the car and strolled towards the truck, whistling loudly. Raising his hand to the air, he clicked the auto lock button on the keys and heard the delightful sound of the car securing Lana inside.
He swiped a cigarette from behind his ear, thumbed the metal lighter and sparked up. With his feet wide and his arms crossed, he waited for the driver to exit the glossy white truck.
“Sure, you know how to drive this thing?” A gruff man with a white goatee beard shook hands with Carl.
“Sure do, Rick.” Carl glanced over his shoulder and waved at her like they were a happy couple.
She was strapped into the car, safe and sound. Right where he needed her to be. The lovely Lana wanted this as much as he did. And if she didn’t…well, he wouldn’t dwell on the disappointing ending.
“All you pretty boys are the same.” The lanky man laughed. “A pretty girl in every city. I’d love a good go at that one.”
Carl tilted his head. “Don’t look at her, Rick,” he said with a blank expression. “Or I’ll put my cigarette out in your eyeball.”
“Steady on, boss. She’s a good-looking girl, that’s all.” The man teased the hair of his wiry beard.
