Authors: Dreda Say Mitchell
Calum, how could you?
‘If I accessed your bank accountant now, are you telling me I wouldn’t find five hundred thousand gone?’
‘Do you know what that man did?’ Nikki was furious. ‘He had my grandparents killed, my mum and dad killed, got someone to snuff out Ade’s life, Cousin Cornelius killed himself. And Ophelia . . .’ The words choked in her throat as she wrapped her lips together and rolled her head. ‘I’ve got no one left.’
Rio realised that what she saw on Nikki’s face couldn’t be described as mere pain: it was agony, heartbreak, a type of dying inside while still living. This was so hard for Rio to watch, so hard.
‘He turned my own mother against me.’ Nikki pulled in deep shots of oxygen as she got herself back under control. Her hand came up to touch her face and Rio realised that she was wearing her trademark gloves. But there was something different about this pair: black leather gloves that covered the fingers. There had been a flirty freeness about the way the teen had worn those fingerless gloves, like she was eager to touch and experience so many aspects of life. Now her touch was closed off. Inwardly Rio mourned the one thing she had wanted to protect for Nikki all along – the girl’s innocence. Because that’s what those dark gloves represented – a child approaching adulthood with a hardness she shouldn’t possess.
Nikki’s finger touched a spot on her cheek. ‘Can you see it?’
Rio was baffled. ‘See what?’
‘The red mark.’ Rio’s confusion increased; there was no mark. ‘That’s where she spat her blood on me. I see it every time I look in the mirror.’
Shocked, Rio realised what she was talking about – Ophelia spitting blood, with her last breath, on her daughter’s face.
God, if only parents realised how their actions could screw up their children’s lives.
‘You can’t let this take over your life, Nikki—’
‘I’m not,’ the girl answered, a smile so bright springing onto her face. ‘You can check my account if you want to Rio; all the money’s there.’
So the girl had covered her tracks, but Rio wasn’t buying any of it.
‘I know what you did it.’
‘Then prove it.’ The sound of a car coming into the driveway didn’t make Rio turn around. ‘I didn’t kill Stephen Foster, but may he rot in hell.’ Nikki looked over Rio’s shoulder and her smile increased. ‘Here he is.’
As Nikki ran past her, Rio eventually turned around to see a smart-looking car come to a halt.
‘Got to go, Rio,’ Nikki shouted as she practically skipped to the passenger side of the car and eased inside.
The driver’s window rolled down and the face that appeared took Rio into a zone of shock she hadn’t felt for a long time.
‘Hi, Mizz Wray,’ Samson Larkin greeted her, his face split into a cocky grin.
No, Rio’s mind roared. No, she wasn’t going to allow this to happen. Ignoring Samson, she raced around to the passenger side of the car.
‘Nikki get out of the car. You don’t know who this is.’
The girl wound the window down. Her face was emotionless. ‘I know who Samson is. We’ve been doing a bit of work together. Then we sort of hooked up. Thanks for everything you did for me, Rio, but I don’t think we’ll need to see each other again.’
Grinning Samson Larkin leaned towards Nikki’s side of the car. ‘You can’t arrest me for anything; I ain’t done nothing wrong. Parole officer just put me back on the books when I turned up.’ His voice dropped to a mock-whisper. ‘Between you and me I think he was more worried about being made redundant—’
‘Did you help find her a hitman?’ Rio growled.
Samson just laughed as he revved up the engine.
‘Bye, Mizz Wray,’ Samson yelled.
The tyres squealed and rushed past Rio. She couldn’t even move. Samson and Nikki. Is that how this once innocent girl had found a hitman? Quizzed Calum for information on the dangerous trade and then gone to Samson Larkin to find one? But there was nothing she could do about it; she had no proof.
Two teenagers with blood on their hands . . . Nikki had said that she wouldn’t be seeing Rio again, but she was
so
wrong. A few years from becoming a woman, what this girl didn’t realise was that once someone had the taste of blood in them they were liable to want more. Rio had seen it too many times in the past.
Nikki was wrong; they would be seeing each other again. And Rio suspected – feared – the girl would be facing her on the wrong side of a table inside a police interview room.
Acknowledgements
So many people are as always to thank for helping to craft Rio and Nikki’s story. First on our list are you the readers for your continued support; we wouldn’t be writing without you. A big shout out to two very special ladies – our agent Amanda Preston (what a brain that woman has!) and Kate Howard, one of the best editors in the business. A massive thanks to all at the Hodder team who helped make
Death Trap
into the book it is. To Robert for all his police expertise. And to the Mason, Edwards and Joseph clans for being the best and most supportive families ever!
Enjoyed
Death Trap
?
Don’t miss out on Dreda Say Mitchell’s gripping novels:
‘As good as it gets’ Lee Child
‘A great read written by a great girl’ Martina Cole
‘Dreda Say Mitchell is right up there at the forefront of British crime fiction’ Peter James