Follow the Leader (11 page)

Chapter Fourteen

‘I can’t believe they both had something to do with your school,’ said Lisa, snuggling in next to Perry as they got into bed that night.

‘Yeah, it’s mad.’ Perry pulled his pillow down a little. ‘It’s freaky too.’

‘Freaky?’ Lisa balked. ‘It’s bloody well scary
,
if you ask me. Are you sure you’re not in danger? I mean, how do you know that you won’t be next?’

‘Because I’m special, Lees. It’s not my time yet.’

‘It had better not be.’

Perry grinned to lighten the mood. ‘You wouldn’t be able to cope without me, would you?’

‘I wouldn’t go that far.’

‘You wouldn’t!’ he teased.

‘I might not be able to change a tyre on the car if I had a flat – but, equally, I know a man who can.’ Lisa grinned.

‘Lost,’ he added. ‘You’d be lost without me.’

‘I think you’ll find that’s the other way around. I made you into what you are. So I –’

Perry laughed. ‘I was fine before I met you.’

‘You had terrible dress sense, your hair was a mess and you looked old before your time.’

Perry pulled her on top of him. Lisa squealed, trying to wriggle out of his grip as he began to kiss her. He slipped his hand inside her top and ran his fingers lightly up and down her back. Then he rolled over and on top of her, burying his face in her cleavage for a moment as she squealed again.

‘This is where I belong,’ he said, turning serious at last. ‘This is what I’d miss and this is what no one is taking from me.’ He kissed her again, more urgently as she responded.

Sleep after sex always came easy for Perry but he was awake again in the early hours. He checked the clock: quarter past two. Lisa slept soundly beside him. He listened to her breathing, watched her shape in the dark. Although he’d joked about her being lost without him, he knew it would be the opposite way around. They’d met on a boozy holiday in San Antonio, Ibiza eight years ago. He’d been on a lads’ holiday and she’d been with her friends on a long hen weekend. He’d seen her a few times in different bars throughout the evening. She was small and thin to his tall and bulky, with long blonde hair and a perfect smile she threw his way. When she smiled a few times more, he’d gone over to chat to her. In the last bar, they’d hooked up.

He couldn’t believe it when she said she came from St
oke-on
-Trent – but it was the last week in June and, back then, that was the traditional time that the pottery firms would close down fo
r t
wo weeks’ annual holiday. Even people who didn’t work ‘in the pots’ often had two weeks off then with partners or friends and, in popular resorts, the bars would be full of Stokies, so much so that it could almost feel like home from home.

He’d spent the next day and night with her before she’d left, and he’d stayed on for a further four days. And as soon as the plane had landed in Manchester and he’d got back home, the first thing he’d done was arrange to meet her again. They’d married three years later.

Did she feel safe with him, he wondered? Protected, even? She always said she did. But could he protect her if he didn’t know what they were up against? Despite fooling around with her earlier, the case was playing on his mind, the fact that he knew both victims getting to him more than knowing that they were now linked.

Lisa stirred in her sleep and turned away from him. He snuggled into her back, pulling her body in close. Breathing the scent of her hair, he swallowed. No bastard was going to take this away from him.

The Longton office of Car Wash City was on King Street, half a mile from where Joe and Rhian lived in Smallwood Avenue. Early at his desk the following morning, Joe stretched up his arms and yawned. Fuck, what a night; even he could smell alcohol on his breath despite gargling with breath freshener twice before leaving the house. He was surprised he’d managed to drag himself in at all after the drink he’d consumed last night. After comforting Jayden and chatting with Kelvin, who luckily had agreed it would be
better
to leave the boys together with him for now, he’d been glad to get out of the oppressive atmosphere. But he’d been unable to stop thinking of Suzi so had headed for the Duke of Wellington pub. Once he’d sat down at the bar, everyone there had wanted to talk about Suzi too. After a few pints, he’d given his keys to the landlord and staggered home just before midnight.

The house had been in darkness. He was hoping Rhian had stayed up so he could apologise and keep her sweet, but the stupid cow had turned off all the lights and gone to bed. Instead of waking her and starting a row, he’d collapsed in the spare room to sleep it off. And, even though he’d had the bed to himself and had slept a heavy drunken sleep, he was aching all over.

He swore loudly, banging his fist on the desk. What an idiot he was telling Rhian that he didn’t trust her. Of course he didn’t, but spitting it out like that was a sure recipe for disaster.

The door to the office opened and Ryan Johnson came in. Joe’s shoulders sagged. Christ, that was all he needed.

‘Problem, Ryan?’ he asked, glancing up at the bear of a man in a thick black overcoat, a stripy scarf knotted at his neck.

‘We need to move on this job, Joe. It’s getting out of hand.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m hearing rumours that we’re under surveillance.’

Joe sat forwards. ‘What the fuck?’

‘How many of the seven do we have?’

‘Only five.’

‘Can we get another two?’

‘For next weekend? Not that quickly.’ Joe bit at the skin around his thumbnail. ‘And I need to be careful.’

‘Why?’

‘The old bill are all over me at the moment.’

Ryan folded his arms. ‘Jesus Christ, Joe. What the fuck have you been up to?’

‘I haven’t done anything! Suzi Porter – the woman who was murdered on Wednesday night – she’s my ex-wife.’

‘Fuck!’ Ryan’s eyes widened. ‘Do the police know who did it yet?’

Joe shook his head. ‘They didn’t when they questioned me
yesterday
.’

‘They
questioned
you?’ Ryan took a step forward.

‘I’m family! Well, I was. But I haven’t done anything I need to cover up. Not with Suzi, anyway.’

Ryan gnawed at his bottom lip. ‘We need to get this job out of the way, this weekend rather than next. Are you good to go on Sunday?’

‘I – I don’t know. It’s going to be difficult.’

‘Why?’

‘My son needs me. He’s only ten.’

‘But this job needs to be finished!’

‘What if the police need to question me again, start
wondering
where I am? Or come sniffing around here because I’m not at home? Then we’ll be in bother.’

Ryan questioned with a frown. ‘You sure you weren’t involved?’

‘No, I fucking wasn’t!’

‘Then you have nothing to worry about.’ Ryan paused. ‘We can be there and back in a couple of days if we push the work through. We’ll get paid for what we give him for now. Then when things settle down your end again, we can get the other two. Okay?’

‘I suppose. And he’ll pay for five?’

‘Oh, he’ll pay for them one way or another.’ Ryan nodded. ‘I’ll see to that.’

‘I don’t want any trouble.’ Joe held up his hands.

‘Then don’t give me any grief.’ Ryan moved to the door and Joe followed him. ‘I’ll be here about ten thirty on Sunday morning.’

Joe nodded, watched him leave. Outside, he could see three cars being washed down, several young blokes rushing around earning their pay. The camaraderie was good, but he couldn’t see himself ever doing menial jobs like that again to earn his crust. However, he did need his money to keep coming in, no matter how dangerous it was to continue.

Right now, though, it seemed even more imperative to keep Rhian sweet, to make sure the police didn’t pick up any scent of what he was up to. He reached for his phone, made a call. After yesterday’s fiasco at home, he doubted that she’d be pleased about his latest plans, so it was even more essential that he keep her on side for now.

Rhian held in her anger as she sat drinking coffee in the kitchen. From morning until night yesterday, she’d heard nothing but Suzi Porter’s name. If she switched on the radio or the television she was there. A few of her friends rang but all they wanted to talk about was Suzi. Even her mum had been quizzing her every day since on the phone. Suzi seemed to be such news in the city, completely overshadowing the murder of the other bloke; Rhian even found mention of her when she checked her Twitter account on her phone. It was as if she had come back to haunt her.

By her side, a message flashed up on her phone.

‘Hey, babe. Give me a call – wondered if you’d heard any more about Suzi yet? Is it true she was gutted like a fish? Euw. Hugs, speak soon. Bx’

Rhian huffed at the friendly attitude of the so-called mate that she hadn’t seen in at least a year. All she wanted was the gossip, and she wouldn’t give her that, even if she did know something. Beth was just being nosy.

She raked a hand through her hair and switched on the
television
. But all she was greeted with was
her
again. How had she become so famous? Rhian fumed. Still, she had more
important
things to think of right now.

She was still bristling from Joe’s words the day before. Who did he think he was, saying that he couldn’t trust her? It was the worst insult of them all. But what hurt the most was that she couldn’t stop thinking of the look that had gone between Joe and that sergeant halfway through the conversation. It was as if they both knew some sort of sordid secret at the mention of Car Wash City. Rhian knew all about Joe’s past and that he had been into prison when he was younger – two stretches for theft, a few months each time. Had that woman put him away for one of them? Was there history betwe
en them?

To make matters worse, Joe hadn’t come home until well after midnight. She hadn’t been asleep when he’d closed the front door noisily before bundling himself off to sleep in the spare room. Even across the landing she could hear him snoring loudly, the sleep of someone who’d had a skinful.

She’d still been annoyed when she’d heard him sneak in early that morning, rifle through his drawers, open and shut the
wardrobe
door. It wasn’t even light so she’d pretended to sleep, hoping that he’d kiss her awake, chat to her, say he was sorry. But nothing.

She’d stayed in bed until he’d left. And now she was stuck here, not knowing if he’d be out all day or when he’d come home. He hadn’t even sent her a text message that she could ignore.
Nevertheless
, having time to think on her own, she realised it
was i
n her best interests to get on his good side again. Joe was okay in small doses. And she did love him in her own way, even if she didn’t intend on staying with him forever. She could play along just as he wanted her to.

She logged on to her laptop and idly began to flick through her favourite clothes websites, looking for a black coat in particular. If there was this much interest in Suzi’s murder, there was a possibility that TV crews could cover the funeral. She needed to get herself something special to wear. The thought instantly cheered her up.