Downtown Girl (Lipstick Red #1) (11 page)

He played it over and over in his head.  The image and the video would never leave him.  The picture was of Taylor, tied to a chair, her head slumped uncomfortably on her chest.  The video was what made his senses reel.  Jack stood in front of her, lifting her chin with his thumb and forefinger while he made his threat.  She’d live if he did what they said.  If he pleaded guilty to Lindy’s murder, signed his business, and the money from his bank accounts over to an offshore corporation, they’d let her go.  She was drugged to the eyeballs, while Jack said she’d know nothing about it if he played ball. 

He’d no way of knowing if Jack would keep up his end of the bargain, but it was a chance he had to take.  David knew it would be difficult to explain the murder of another person so close to him, without implicating other people in his life and raking up the past.  It was in Jack’s best interests for Taylor to go free, knowing nothing about what had happened to her.

He couldn’t guarantee that Taylor would be safe indefinitely, but he had to try. 

There was one person he could trust to keep her safe, and he’d made the call.  It tore at his gut to think of the danger he’d put her in, just by being with him.  He should never have let his dick rule his head.

Stephen had been sent to the same prison, originally charged with accessory to murder.  He’d no idea what he’d got himself into, but he hadn’t been surprised when it had involved his brother.  They’d been sharing the same cell, which made life on the inside easier.  They’d both been set up, yet David worried that Stephen wouldn’t be strong enough to cope with it.  When it came down to it, David shouldered the full blame and refused to implicate Stephen in any way.  He’d be released soon, but not soon enough to be able to make sure Taylor was safe on the outside.

He wanted to kill Jack Collins for touching Taylor, for killing Lindy.  They were two innocent women that he’d tainted by his touch.

When the meal bell rang, David bounded eagerly from his cell, racing down to the dining room.  On the stairs, he deliberately bumped into a burly prisoner, who slipped a note into his hand.   He couldn’t risk reading it at the table, so he slipped it into his sock for later.

Making small talk over food was excruciating.  Stephen eyed him suspiciously while he bolted his food down faster than usual, desperate to return to his cell.  He’d been challenged twice already while he was inside, but he’d managed to deflect the threats.

Some cons had long memories, and David Burton was an ex gang leader.  He’d been put into a prison where he was at risk.  He knew it, and Stephen knew it.  His days were numbered inside, but he had to know she was okay.

Back in his cell, he slipped the piece of paper back into his hand.  His shaky fingers opened the message slowly and his heart settled instantly. 

A ok.  Package well.

She was free.  He lay back on his bed as he imagined her meeting someone else, having children and living a normal life.  She’d hate him.  She would think he was a cold blooded murderer.  It bothered him that she would hate him, but along with the gang kids, they were safe for now.  Alan’s group would lose their refuge, but they’d live without the threat of other gangs preying on them.  He knew some of them would slip into gang life, but he hoped that most of them would continue down the path that Alan had set them along.        

When the train pulled into Edinburgh station, Taylor climbed the steps to Princes Street and breathed the crisp, fresh air.  She booked herself into a small hotel and watched the clock, while she ate microwave meals and browsed trashy TV.  She found sleep elusive as she tried to make sense of the last week, but she finally succumbed. 

Her dreams were the stuff of nightmares.  Jack Collins loomed large at the front of her brain and she woke with a start, her heart hammering in her chest.  Grabbing the alarm clock, she knew she’d slept late again.

Rushing to get ready for her afternoon meeting, she piled her hair atop her head, pulling on a woollen hat, knowing it wouldn’t look out of place.  Her dark jeans with a cape jacket were necessary evils in the cold weather and she made her way along the mile long Leith Walk, linking Leith with Princes Street.  In another life, she’d revel in the character and lively atmosphere coming from the stylish bistros and restaurants she passed, but today she just felt flat.   

When her target was in view, she held back, checking her watch.  She had half an hour, but he was already there, walking along the shores of the Firth of Forth at the mouth of the Water of Leith.  She’d often told him of her wish to visit, to see the Royal Yacht Britannia, and if she ever got the chance, she’d head straight there.  Hoping there was no-one with him, she began to run, tears falling as the wind whipped loose strands of hair across her face.

He held his arms open as she ran toward him.  He’d never shown her any affection before, but she needed the support.  Sobs wracked her body as he smoothed her hair, like a well loved pet.     

‘What a pickle you’ve got yourself into,’ he said softly.  She nodded her head, pulling herself back to regain her composure.  He steered her towards a bench for two, pulling a thermos from his bag and pouring two cups of strong whisky.  ‘When in Rome!’ Kevin shrugged, as he tipped a cup greedily into his mouth.

‘It was Jack!’ she said woodenly.  ‘I remember.  They thought I was out cold, but the truth was in my dreams.’ 

‘Jack what?’ he said, his eyes fixed on her. 

‘I don’t know who else to trust.  If you’re going to kill me, do it now.’

‘Bloody hell Taylor, I’m not going to kill you.  What gave you that idea?  I’m here to help.’

‘You work for Jack.  I thought you might be in on it,’ she whispered, her tone giving away her fear.

‘I don’t work for him anymore.  He fired me too,’ he grinned, the space of a missing tooth catching her eye.  She was sure it was there when she saw him last.

‘Jack blackmailed David.  I think he killed Lindy himself.  Lindy was killed between seven and nine, right?’

‘That’s what the police say.’  He poured a little more whisky in her cup.

‘Are you as good as everyone says you are?’ she questioned.  ‘If you are, I’d like to hire you.  David couldn’t have done it.  He was in my bed, with me, the whole time.’  Her face flushed as she told the older man, the implication clear.

‘Are you prepared to testify?  Do you know how much danger that would put you in?’  He ran a finger along his bottom lip, his eyes narrowing as he searched her face.

‘I know,’ she answered.  ‘I won’t see him go to jail for something he didn’t do.’

‘Then we’ve work to do.’  He pulled out his phone and made a call.  It made no sense to Taylor.

‘BD1, urgent, SH required.  Edinburgh.’  She watched as he listened, then walked off to finish his call.  Her stomach knotted as she considered what she was about to do.  She was throwing away her safe life, forever.

‘Let’s go,’ he said, as he steered her towards a waiting line of cabs.  He handed the driver a card with an address on it.  She felt uneasy, but she had to trust someone.

The cab dropped them off a few miles from Princes Street. She had no idea where she was.  Kevin used his sat nav to find directions, and then walked her down a long road before turning into an imposing four storey building. 

‘BD1,’ he said gruffly into the intercom.  The door buzzed open immediately.  A woman clicked her heels along the sleek marble floor as she shook hands with Kevin, checking his id, then smiling at Taylor. 

‘Interview room 1.  Second door on the left along the hall.’  She nodded in the direction they were expected to go.

###

After two days of intense interviews, statements and discussions, Kevin kissed her on the cheek as he was ready to leave. 

‘You can do this,’ he said.  She’d given her story to the special officers, and official statements had been taken and considered by the prosecution. 

She’d been granted witness protection on the grounds of fear and intimidation, while charges would be filed against Jack Collins for the murder of Lindy Collins, the kidnap of Taylor Griffiths, the blackmail of David Burton, and the framing of Alan Inglebrook.  She’d remembered it all, as she recognized her subconscious bringing the trauma back.  She remembered how he’d tied her to the chair and made the video, admitting his guilt.  She could testify by anonymous video link, with her voice disguised, and the case against David Burton would fall apart. 

The almost unbearable price she’d pay would be relocating to another part of the UK, with a new identity, and no contact whatsoever with anyone from her past, including David Burton.

She shed a tear as Kevin left.  Without him, she’d never have been able to help David.  She didn’t know if she was strong enough to see it through, but Jack Collins deserved to pay for what he’d done.  She lifted her head up, pointing her chin to the sky as her liaison officer gently steered her back into the room she’d lived in for the last forty eight hours.   

‘Let’s get started,’ he said, putting papers on the desk.  ‘Your new name will be Morven Anderson.  To keep it simple, your date of birth stays the same.  You’re relocating to an Island on the West Coast of Scotland for work experience, which has been a lifelong dream.  Your new job is waitress in the Camburgh Arms, where you’ll join two other work experience ex-pats.  They’re not witness protection, so don’t think you can share information with them.’

Her head began to spin with the enormity of it all.  She wouldn’t be able to contact any friends or family, and even when it was all over, she still wouldn’t be safe.  They recommended that she continue her life with the new identity.     

    ‘Spend time getting to know your new profile,’ he warned.  You leave in two days.  We’ll go over your new identity in detail before you leave. 

###

‘You must be Morven,’ a blowsy woman with a red face met her when she stepped off the bus.  It was easier to get to the island than she’d imagined, as there was a bridge from the mainland. 

‘Yes, I am,’ she smiled as graciously as possible.

‘There are no secrets on this island, so if you’ve got a skeleton in your cupboard, you’d better get it all out now, or we’ll ferret it out of you with a bottle of rum or a pint of whisky.’  Her eyes glittered as she teased Taylor. 
Morven.  Remember, it’s Morven now.

She giggled, for the first time in weeks, feeling instantly guilty, knowing the enormity of what she was about to do. 

‘Away lass, you’re allowed to laugh you know,’ the older woman said sagely.  ‘I’m Helen by the way, but don’t mix me up with Helen on the other side of the island, she’s a right old gossip.  Hop in, you’ll need to know where you’re going.’ 

She did as she was told, grateful for the company.  She’d be living in a small chalet in the grounds of the pub.  It says pub, but it was more like a little hotel with six guest bedrooms.  ‘They’re rarely used mind you,’ Helen said, ‘We don’t’ get many tourists round these parts, they all go to Mull, or the Isle of Skye, but the rooms get used for weddings or lock ins, when nobody wants to drive home.’ 

Her first night serving drinks was nerve wracking.  Regulars teased her about her Scottish name with an American accent.  She was grateful for the two other Americans working shifts.  At least she wasn’t alone, but the stress of keeping up the pretence was making her very tired.

Her first night on the island was terrifying.  She dreamed that Alan Collins and a gang of henchmen burst into her little chalet, tying her up and leaving her out for the wolves to eat.  She wasn’t sure what animals roamed freely on Scottish islands, but there were bound to be some.   

Island life seemed a world away from London.  In only a few days, she began to settle into a routine.  Sleep, work, eat, walk, and then start all over again.  She kept herself at arms length from the locals, and the other ex-pats.  Friendly, yet not too friendly.  The more time she spent with them, the more likely she was to make a mistake and give something away that she shouldn’t.

She overheard gossiping voices when she’d been there for a few weeks.  ‘She’s a sad one that,’ Helen said to Mary, the owner of the bar.  ‘We’ll bring her round in time, but it’ll have to be when she’s ready.’ 

‘We’ll no push her, or she might snap in two.  She’s that frail, I think a puff of wind would blow her over.’

She liked Mary, and Helen.  If she stayed here, she’d make an effort to get to know them better. 

###

When the day she’d been dreading came, she took the bus back to the mainland, to be met by her handler.  ‘Four hours, and then it’s over.’

‘For you maybe, but for me, it’s like I don’t exist anymore.’ She fought back tears as travelled to the police station, where she’d give evidence behind a screen, with a disguised voice. 

She steadied her voice as the questions came thick and fast.  The stinging questions of Alan Collins defense team almost derailed her, but she stood her ground.  She knew Kevin would be in court, and she also knew that David knew nothing about her.  This was Alan’s trial.  David knew a witness had come forward, but not who. 

The last statement from the defense team derailed her. 

‘Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I put it to you, that she fabricated all the evidence to punish a wealthy man that she set her cap at.  He turned her down not once, but twice.

The prosecution reminded the jury of how she’d been violated, both in Cannes and when he’d drugged her.  The defense argument had been flawed.  They’d found John Logan, and also found her clothes, still stuffed in his cabinet.  He was a lazy housekeeper.  Traces of both her DNA and that of Jack Collins had remained on her clothes.  Jack had exposed her drugged body, to tell David that he’d take her forcibly on camera, if he refused to plead guilty. 

The deciding factor was the drink she’d spilled on her clothes.  Tests showed it had contained a large dose of sleeping pills. 

She’d also given evidence of David’s innocence, supplying him with a much needed alibi that she could prove.  They’d uploaded a live recording on her phone that was verified by the Internet Company it was sent to.  They’d also found the fast food driver who’d dropped off their Chinese meal, at around eight pm.

When it was over, she knew she could do no more for him.  She sat quietly on the bus back to her island, looking forward to the banter in the pub, to seeing Mary and Helen.  They were going to be her life for the near future, and it was time she immersed herself in it fully.  Kevin thought David would be released in days.  He’d have the opportunity to relocate in the witness protection program, but they’d be kept apart.  Keeping them together would be too dangerous for both of them.  David would be a wanted man.  She’d tried to convince them otherwise, but they turned her down.

Back in her Chalet, she spent the next two days of her week off alone.  She needed time to grieve for the life she’d lost, and the man she hoped she’d saved.  She watched the news, hoping to hear the outcome, but the jury stayed out for days as she ate comforting chocolate with tubs of sinful ice cream. 

###

‘You look like you’ve lost a pound and found a sixpence,’ Mary said, when she finally stepped foot in the pub.  Losing the miserable face, she grinned, poured herself a glass of white wine, marked it up on her slate, and then decided to sit with Helen and her friends.

‘So, have you got a secret man on that there mainland?’ Helen teased, while she blushed, making the other women laugh. 

‘Aye, looks like there’s more than one, if you ask me.’ Helens friend, Susan, joined in. 

‘That would be telling,’ Taylor answered, patting her index finger off her nose.  There were worse places in the world that she could be living.

‘Mary, turn up that news will you, I canna hear it,’ Susan called to the bar.  Mary held up her finger in understanding, while the sound increased.

‘Have you heard about that case in London?’ Susan asked Helen directly.  ‘The one where there are two filthy rich sods in the frame?  I’m right glad there’s none of that gang business on the island.  We’d have to bang their heids together.’

In spite of herself, Taylor found herself smiling.  Glancing up at the screen, she saw what she was looking for.  Jack Collins had been found guilty.  He was led away to a police van with a jacket covering his head.  She knew that Stephen was already out, and it was only a matter of time before David and Alan were released.

‘I suppose that means the other filthy rich sod is innocent?’  Mary walked over and plonked herself down to join them.  ‘If you ask me, they’re all guilty of something.  How do they get so much money otherwise?’