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Authors: Heather Atkinson

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BOOK: Face in the Frame
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Lovingly he stroked her cheek. “Yes.”

“Then do it Bill, now, before they take me away.”

That was more than Bill could bear. Sylvie was the only light in his life. Frantically he looked around the room but could see nothing with which to start a fire.

“Back in a minute,” he said before racing out of the room. “I won’t be long,” he yelled over his shoulder when he heard her calling for him.

With shaking hands he unlocked the door to the cleaning cupboard and delved inside.

“I’m coming Sylvie,” he cried, rushing back to the exhibition with his arms full.

He squirted the paint thinner around the room and the other faces. A flick of a match and everything went up.

Bill wrenched Sylvie’s frame off the wall and cradled her in his arms, pressing his forehead to hers as the fire started to rage around him.

“Soon we’ll be together. Forever,” he whispered to her.

 

“Are you sure this is a good idea Boss?” said Christian as they jumped out of Ross’s car and rushed towards Lucas’s apartment block. Now the initial adrenaline rush had worn off doubt was starting to set in. “Cass is going to be really pissed off.”

“I’d rather risk that than let that loon slice her face off. Will you two bloody hurry up?” he exclaimed when Ross slipped on the top step.

“Ow, my ankle,” he cried, crumpling into a heap.

“Leave him,” Brodie barked at Christian as he tugged at the front door. “It won’t open.”

“Because it’s call entry,” said Christian. “What do we do?”

“Press one,” said Brodie, mashing the button with a large finger. “Closest to the door.”

“What ya wantin’?” snapped a reedy voice through the speaker.

“The name’s Brodie MacBride. I need you to open the door right now, it’s a matter of life and death.”

“Yeah, like I’ve no’ heard that one before.”

“This isn’t a joke you prick. Open it now before I break the bastarding thing down,” Brodie roared down the line.

There was a pause on the other end before the voice said, “bugger off.”

“Wait, no, come back. Just wait till I get my hands on you, I’ll pull your fucking tongue out,” he bellowed.

“Boss, please, that’s not getting us anywhere,” said Christian.

“I think I’ve done something really bad to my ankle,” groaned Ross, who had plonked himself down on the steps to tenderly probe the appendage. “It feels all weird and puffy.”

“Then it’s just like it’s owner,” said Brodie. “I’ll try two,” he added, hitting the button for flat number two.

“Hello?” said a polite female voice.

“Let me,” Christian told Brodie, who reluctantly stepped aside to allow him access to the speaker. “I’m from the electric company, I’ve come to do some maintenance. I wondered if you would mind opening the door please Madam?”

“Of course young man,” replied the creaky, elderly voice before the door buzzed open. “Such a polite boy.”

Christian grinned at Brodie. “See where manners get you.”

“I don’t have time for manners,” retorted Brodie before racing inside and up the stairs towards the penthouse, Christian following, leaving Ross grimacing on the steps.

He reached the top and pounded on the door. No answer.

“Maybe they’ve already left for London?” said Christian.

“They’ve not had time. Thorne hadn’t packed or anything,” replied Brodie.

“They could have gone out for something to eat?”

“For Christ’s sake, he’s alone in there doing God knows what to her. Let’s break the door down.”

“Are you sure Boss? If we’re wrong we’ll get arrested.”

“You big girl. I’ll take the blame if it goes wrong, alright?”

“Okay, just saying,” he shrugged.

“We need to do this cleanly. We’ll both charge it on three, okay? One, two three…”

They both rushed at the door, which gave way beneath their combined weight with a loud crack and they fell inside, landing in the hallway. Hastily they scrambled to their feet, catching their breath.

“It was open, wasn’t it Boss?” whispered Christian.

“Yeah,” he hissed, feeling like an idiot for not trying the handle in the first place.

CHAPTER 23

 

Lucas paused in his work at the sound of a thud somewhere in the flat. Had he locked the door? He couldn’t remember. It was foolish of him not to but he’d been so caught up in preserving his Cass that he may have overlooked it. A foolish error.

He looked down at Cass, who was still out cold. The drug he’d used was very strong, there was no risk of her waking up yet. He’d only managed to cut an inch and a half into her jaw with the scalpel, blood trickling from the wound onto her neck, the red vivid against her creamy skin.

“I’ll be back soon my love,” he said before slipping out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. After glancing down at himself to make sure there was no incriminating evidence on him - which there wasn’t because he was far too careful for that - he walked down the hallway, into the lounge and froze. “What on earth are you two doing here?”

“We want to speak to Cass,” said Brodie.

“You can’t, she’s not here. She went out to the shops to pick up some things she needs for London.”

“Then we’ll wait.”

Lucas shifted impatiently, well aware he was on a time limit. “I don’t know when she’ll be back. Why don’t I get her to call you when she returns?”

“We’re not shifting until we’ve seen her,” said Brodie. He stood nose to nose with Lucas, who just stared back at him steadily.

“In that case, would you like a drink while you wait?” said Lucas.

“Aye, that would be nice,” smiled Christian.

“No,” interrupted Brodie. “All we want from you Thorne is Cass.”

“I’ve told you where she is. I suggest you go and look for her if you’re so anxious to speak to her.”

“I’ll do one better,” he said, taking out his mobile phone. “I’ll gie’ her a bell.”

Brodie pressed the phone to his ear, smiling with triumph when ringing filled the air from somewhere in the room. “Find it,” he told Christian.

Christian nodded and started to hunt around the room. He found Cass’s jacket on the floor behind the couch where she’d dropped it and pulled her phone out of the pocket. “Got it Boss.”

Brodie turned to Lucas, seething with rage. “So you’re saying Cass went into town without her jacket or phone?”

He shrugged. “It’s a warm day.”

“You don’t know Cass like I do. She’d never go anywhere without her phone. You don’t do that in our line of work. What have you done with her?” Brodie was really panicking now. Cass would not have gone out alone without her phone when she knew Big Malc was after her blood. She wouldn’t have left the flat full stop.

“I’ve not done anything with her. I told you she’s gone to the shops.”

Brodie grabbed him by the front of the shirt. “What have you done with her you freak?” he bellowed in his face. He was gobsmacked when the pupils in Lucas’s eyes elongated even more, the green burning brightly.

“What the fuck did you call me?” hissed Lucas.

“Don’t like that name, do you?” said Brodie, recovering himself. “I don’t know why, I thought you’d be used to it by now after Mummy called you it every day of your life growing up.”

“You’ve been to see my parents,” he glowered.

“Aye I did and they told me lots of interesting things - about you. I also saw all the heids on the wall of their home, how your daddy told you he took them to preserve their beauty and to save them. It was smart of you to ask me to investigate Oliver, it threw my attention off you. Briefly. Now where the fuck is Cass?” he roared in his face.

Brodie was perturbed when Lucas stared back at him with rage burning in his eyes. Normally when he yelled in someone’s face it reduced them to jelly and that’s what he’d been expecting would happen with this creep. On the contrary, Lucas actually looked pleased.

“I really don’t like you,” said Lucas. “And I’m glad you’ve given me an excuse to do this.”

Before Brodie knew what was happening he was on the floor, clutching his stomach, the breath knocked from his body. He looked up to see Lucas glaring down at him, hands balled into fists.

“Bastard,” exclaimed Christian, charging him.

Brodie could only watch in astonishment as Lucas sent Christian - who was twice his size - reeling with one punch before grabbing his arm, twisting it up his back then throwing him halfway across the room.

“Get out of my flat,” yelled Lucas.

“Cass, Cass,” cried Brodie, scrabbling to his feet, now terrified for her. He’d been right, the guy was a full blown loon.

He’d almost reached the door leading out of the room and deeper into the apartment when he was grabbed again. This time Brodie managed to throw Lucas off and punch him in the side. Lucas just released a deep exhale before ramming his fist into Brodie’s gut, grabbing a handful of hair and attempting to bang his head off the wall. Fortunately Brodie managed to throw his arm up first, so his forehead bounced off his right hand instead. Throwing up his legs he kicked back off the wall and sent them both staggering backwards, his superior size and weight sending Lucas crashing to the floor.

“Cass,” he yelled again, immediately getting to his feet while Lucas flailed on the floor.

He threw open the first door and encountered an empty bedroom. He moved on, still calling out her name. The second room was just as empty.

As he was about to open the bathroom door Lucas slammed into him and they started to fight furiously, Brodie almost overcome by Lucas’s speed. He’d never fought anyone who moved so fast before but fortunately he had a thick head, so he was able to take most of the blows dealt him. A kick Lucas delivered to his stomach sent him to his knees but he grabbed Lucas’s foot and tipped him. Brodie was on him in an instant, hands going to his throat.

“Where is she?” he yelled as his grip on Lucas’s throat tightened.

“Not here,” he managed to rasp before punching Brodie in the side of the head.

Brodie went down with a groan, white light filling his head. Something sharp pricked his side and he felt warmth trickle down his skin. Where the hell had Lucas got a weapon from? He hadn’t seen one in his hand.

“I’m here Boss,” called Christian.

Brodie raised his head to see his colleague steamrollering his way towards them, a cut to his forehead.

“He’s armed,” said Brodie, grimacing at the pain in his side.

Lucas leapt up and Brodie finally saw what had injured him - a small silver scalpel.

As Christian launched himself at Lucas, Brodie swept his legs out from under him and the three of them ended up in a tangle of limbs, Lucas squashed beneath them.

“We’ve got him,” cried Brodie when he realised Lucas was being crushed by their combined weight. He wrapped his arm around his throat while Christian wrestled with his right arm, which still gripped the scalpel, the silver blade flashing lethally beneath the lights.

“Shit,” exclaimed Christian when that same blade almost connected with his eyeball. “The bastard’s crazy.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell everyone,” said Brodie, tensing his arm, feeling Lucas grow more lethargic as he was deprived of oxygen. Gleefully he only tightened his grip, enjoying hurting this man who he was in no doubt had hurt Cass.

“If she’s dead I’m going to fucking kill you,” he rumbled in Lucas’s ear before the man passed out.

“I think he’s unconscious,” said a relieved Christian.

Brodie flipped Lucas off him and jumped to his feet. “Watch him,” he told Christian before rushing into the bathroom. The sight of Cass still and pale in the bath and covered in blood made his knees go weak.

“No,” he said, staggering to her side. “Cass wake up,” he cried, shaking her. When she failed to respond he put his shaking fingers to the pulse in her neck. “Oh thank you God, thank you, thank you,” he whispered when he felt a pulse fluttering there. He hunted around the room for something to press to the wound to stop the bleeding and found a wad of tissue paper. With his free hand he pulled out his mobile phone and called for an ambulance. Next he called Pete.

“Where the hell are you? I’m at your office and no one’s here,” Pete yelled in his ear.

“Get yer arse round to Thorne’s right now.”

“Lucas Thorne? Oh bloody hell Brodie, didn’t I tell you to stay away from him?”

“If I had Cass would be dead. She’s unconscious in his bathtub covered in blood and the prick attacked me and Christian.”

“Oh….holy fuck. On my way.”

“Oh good,” he said sarcastically before hanging up. He took Cass’s hand and patted it, not knowing what else to do. “Help’s coming sweetheart, just hang in there.”

“What’s he done?” cried a voice.

Brodie turned to see Ross limp into the room, looking horror-struck.

“It looks like the bastard tried to slice her face off,” he replied.

“That’s fucking sick,” he yelled. “I’ll kill him.”

Brodie listened to the sound of Ross giving Thorne a kicking with his good foot and did nothing to stop it. It was the least he deserved. It was also their word against his.

“Don’t worry hen, it’ll all be okay,” he said to Cass’s prone form, wishing she’d wake up. She was alive but he had no idea what Thorne had given her to knock her out. Was it fatal? Had he really been going to cut off her face while she was still alive? It made him want to throw up.

 

Brodie was still stemming the flow of blood from Cass’s jaw when Pete tore into the room followed by two paramedics.

“Move aside Brodie, let them sort her out,” he told his friend.

Reluctantly he did as bid, eyes glued to her as they checked her over. One climbed into the bath with her to tend to the wound to her jaw, managing to stop the bleeding before applying a dressing while the other checked her vital signs.

Brodie joined Pete in the doorway, so he could simultaneously watch both the paramedics working on Cass and Pete’s colleagues in the hallway cuffing a battered Lucas Thorne.

“What the fuck happened here?” demanded Pete.

“I figured out what was going on,” said Brodie.

“You going to enlighten me?” said Pete when Brodie went silent, staring sadly at the wad of bloodied tissue paper in his hand.

Brodie explained about his visit to Lucas’s parents, the heads on the wall, his reasoning about how Cass was in danger, all the while Pete’s sceptically-raised eyebrow getting higher and higher.

“You’re a bloody loon Brodie,” he said when he’d eventually finished.

“A loon who’s just stopped a serial killer.”

“This is ridiculous,” said Lucas through swollen lips as he was hauled to his feet, handcuffed. “Cass slipped and hurt herself in the bath. I was tending to her injuries when these psychopaths burst into my apartment and attacked me.” His cat’s eyes homed in on Brodie. “I do hope you have a good lawyer because I’m going to sue you for every penny and get your crappy little business shut down.”

“Bollocks. When Cass wakes up she’ll tell everyone how you attacked her.”

“If she wakes up.”

Every muscle in Brodie’s body tensed. “What do you mean, if?”

“I don’t know what you did to her when you were alone with her in there.” He looked to Pete, hesitating as he stared at his hair in puzzlement before continuing. “Brodie is furious about Cass deciding to come to London with me. This is revenge against us both. He’s setting me up to make it look like I hurt her.”

“You dirty bastard,” roared Brodie. Pete put himself between them when he lunged for Lucas. “I would never do anything to hurt that woman.”

Lucas frowned, as though he’d just realised something. “Surely you can’t be gullible enough to fall for this?” he added, addressing Pete.

“What you’re unaware of Mr Thorne is that I’ve known Mr MacBride a long time. We worked together. I also know that he’s right, he would never do anything to hurt Miss Carlisle. I’m also curious to hear how you’ll explain what she was doing in an empty bath fully clothed and why you had a scalpel.”

“I want my lawyer,” was all he replied.

“I bet you do. Get him out of here,” Pete told his men.

“This isn’t over, not by a long way,” Lucas called, struggling in his bonds as he was dragged out the door.

“Yeah, whatever. Prick,” Brodie yelled after him. He went silent when the paramedics came out of the bathroom carrying a still unconscious Cass on a stretcher.

“He tried to cut her face off Pete,” he told his friend. “Get down to his exhibition right now and seize everything.”

“Wish I could but no can do.”

“For Christ’s sake, what else do you need to get a warrant?”

“All the warrants in the world won’t make a difference. The entire wing of the museum housing Lucas’s exhibition burnt to the ground half an hour ago.”

“Please tell me you’re joking?”

“Oh yeah, because it’s sodding hilarious,” replied Pete, deadpan. “We don’t have all the details yet but it looks like one of the security guards went a bit fruit loopy and set it on fire.”

“This is Thorne’s doing. He knew we were closing in on him so he told the guard to burn it down. You need to ask him about Thorne…”

“The guard died in the fire.”

BOOK: Face in the Frame
7.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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