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Authors: Heather Atkinson

BOOK: Hunted
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“No.”

“When was the last time he was seen?”

“He left home at half seven the evening of the fifteenth of August two thousand and nine for his judo class. He never got there.”

“Did anyone see him on the way there?”

“No.”

“Did he drive or walk?”

“Walk. He always walked, he said it warmed him up before class.”

“Did he take the same route every time?”

“Yes, through the park.”

“Could you write down the exact route he took?”

Tracey nodded, took a pad and pen off her desk and jotted down the directions. Ryan accepted the piece of paper from her, folded it up and slipped it inside his jacket pocket to give to Battler later.

“What happened to Luke’s things?” he said.

“Jasmine put everything into storage, she couldn’t bear to part with any of it. Me, my mum and dad and Jasmine have looked through it all dozens of times but we never found anything useful.”

“Maybe a fresh pair of eyes might help? Would you give your permission for Battler and Bruiser to look through it? Something that looks innocent to you might tell them something.”

“By all means, let them. I meant it when I said I’ll do anything to help find Luke.”

“Thank you Tracey. I think that’s all I need for now.”

“You’ve done more than the police ever did. Wait, don’t open the door yet. Let me sort my face out.” She got up to peer into a mirror hanging on the wall. Ryan patiently waited while she touched up her make-up and ran her fingers through her hair. “There, all better.”

Ryan couldn’t help but admire her as she flung the door to her office wide open and strode out confidently, back to her usual flirtatious self.

“Thank you Ryan for going over the books, I always feel better after you’ve run your fingers through my pink flimsies.”

Sensing the amused glances Ryan kept his head down as he made for the exit. Few people had the ability to fluster him but unfortunately she was one of them. Still, it just went to prove Tracey’s flirting and confidence was all a front to stop everyone seeing the pain inside.

Just as he jumped back into his Range Rover his mobile phone rang.

“Hello Battler.”

“We’ve found out who built the original annex at your place, we’re going to talk to them. Want to come?”

“Do I ever. Give me the address,” said Ryan, starting the engine.

CHAPTER 8

 

The headquarters of the Kerrell Group was a huge complex in the town of Torquay. Ryan entered its massive tinted glass frontage accompanied by Battler and Bruiser.

“We’ve an appointment to see Mr Kerrell at eleven thirty,” Battler told the prim-looking middle aged receptionist, glasses perched precariously on the end of her nose.

She looked down that long thin nose at him and smiled with shocking lasciviousness. “Of course Sir. You may go straight up.”

“Thank you sweetheart,” he said, returning her smile.

“I think someone’s got a fan,” said Ryan as they made their way towards the lift, the receptionist’s eyes riveted on Battler.

“I can turn on the charm when I want to. I bet she’s a right goer,” he grinned when they’d stepped into the lift and the doors had closed behind them. “I can picture her taking off those glasses and letting her hair down. I might get her number after.”

Bruiser held up his left hand and pointed to his fourth finger.

“That’s right, no wedding ring,” smiled Battler.

Ryan had never seen him so playful before. “Life in Devon seems to suit you,” he commented.

“It does that, it’s so much more relaxed,” replied Battler. “Bodies found under annexes and mad half-sisters aside.”

Bruiser nodded his agreement.

The lift doors opened to reveal a seemingly deserted corridor. The three of them stepped out and paused, looking up and down at the rows of closed doors, wondering where they should go next. They needn’t have worried. One of the doors at the end opened and a huge man appeared before them. He was big in every way - he must have been at least six foot two with a huge paunch overhanging his black trousers, the expensive shirt straining at the seams to contain him.

“Hello gentlemen, I’m Gerard Kerrell, I own this company” he said, extending his hand.

Ryan shook his hand firmly, trying not to grimace when he found it cold and clammy.

“Mr Law, I believe we met before at a charity auction in Exeter,” said Gerard amiably.

“That’s right, we did. You bid on a nice little cabin cruiser,” replied Ryan.

“Which you won. I hope you’re enjoying it?”

“Very much. It’s moored at Dartmouth. The kids love it.”

“Good, good. If you’ll come this way,” said Gerard, leading them into his office, which was large and extravagant with a good view of the Torquay United football ground. Not that Ryan was impressed, he loathed the game. Where was the fun in watching a bunch of overpaid, over-gelled prima donnas kicking a sphere of leather about? He’d never understand it.

“Drink gentleman?” offered Gerard.

All three refused.

Gerard was a strange looking man with his big round baby face, the flesh of his cheeks pink and wobbly but his small dark eyes were very serious and sparked with intelligence. He appeared disappointed that none of them wanted a drink and reluctantly replaced the whisky tumbler he’d been holding on the massive mahogany drinks cabinet.

“So, what can I do for you?” said Gerard, sinking into the huge leather chair behind his desk.

“We want to talk to you about the recent discovery the builders made on my property,” began Ryan.

“Excuse me?” he said, looking puzzled.

“The body.”

Gerard frowned at Battler. “You’re not here to discuss a business deal?”

Ryan shook his head.

“I was led to believe this meeting was to discuss a contract,” he said, directing his wrath at Battler.

“I’m sorry if that’s the impression you got Sir but it’s not the one I meant to give,” replied Battler.

“Why do you want to talk to me? I don’t know anything about it.”

“It was put there when your company were building the annex on
my
land,” said Ryan.

“Do you think I work on every site?” retorted Gerard, annoyed. “Course not. I have lots of people to do that for me so I don’t know what you want me to tell you. Anyway, I’ve already gone through all this with the police, so why are you here?”

“Because that body was on my property, near my family and I want to be sure they aren’t in any danger,” said Ryan.

“Why would they be in danger?” he said, genuinely puzzled.

“I’m a man who doesn’t take any chances.”

“What do you want from me? Nothing’s changed since I last spoke to the police. None of my staff have stepped up and said
by the way Mr Kerrell, I killed someone seven years ago and stuffed them into the foundations of the annex we were building.”

Ryan rolled his eyes at this melodramatic display.

“We want to know who had access to that site,” said Battler.

“Everyone had access to that site,” he exclaimed. “If you hadn’t noticed the annex backed onto farmland and woodland. Anyone could have waited until my men had left for the day then snuck in and stuck that body in the wet concrete. The family who owned the house at the time could even have done it. Actually, if I were you I’d be looking closer at the Marsh’s, I wouldn’t put it past them.”

The Marsh’s were the family who owned the neighbouring farm, their land backed onto Ryan’s own.

“Now that’s very interesting, why do you say that?” said Ryan.

“You’re not from round here so you’ve probably not heard about Chris Marsh’s preferences.”

“What preferences?” said Ryan impatiently.

“He was questioned about the disappearance of Daniel Tebbs. Daniel was gay, he made no secret of it and Chris - even though he’s been married for years - likes the boys, especially young, attractive ones. He was interviewed by the police when Daniel was reported missing because he was the last one to see him alive. Apparently Daniel had gone to his house on the pretext of sorting Chris’s computer out. Then he vanished.”

Ryan had to give Gerard his due, he was good at the theatrics. He was telling his tale like it was a ghost story.

“Chris knew the Allingtons were having the annex put in, Christ, everyone did, they really did enjoy bragging,” continued Gerard. “It would have been easy for Chris to drag the body across his own land and dump it in the concrete of the foundations before it hardened.”

“You’ve thought about this a lot,” said Battler.

“I have ever since I heard that a body was discovered up at your place,” replied Gerard, addressing Ryan. “Come on, everyone knows there’s something not right around here, despite what the police say. Everyone in the county will have their own theory.”

“So you think that body is Daniel Tebbs?” said Battler.

“It’s one possibility.”

“Chris Marsh is a good man,” said Ryan coldly. “The worst thing you’ve accused him of is being secretly gay.”

“Hey, I’ve nothing against gays,” said Gerard, holding out his hands. “It doesn’t bother me but his wife Angela is a sweet woman, she doesn’t deserve to be treated like that. We went to school together, she was always good to me.”

“You’ve no proof, it’s all supposition and gossip,” said Ryan, a bit annoyed. He liked Chris Marsh, he and his family had helped them out after the fire set by Alex had destroyed their home. They’d taken in all their animals and kept an eye on the place when they were in Manchester. He didn’t think it fair Gerard accuse him of not only cheating on his wife but murdering a man too with absolutely no proof. But then again, one thing Ryan had learnt the hard way was that you never really knew anyone, never could fully trust them. Every single person on the planet had a dark side.

“Did you know any of the men who disappeared?” Ryan asked Gerard.

“Just one, George Romer, the first one, but then I didn’t know him well. He worked for my company for a few months until he disappeared and I didn’t hire him, one of my foremen did. He was a good worker apparently, a real grafter. They’re rare these days,” he said wistfully. “Everyone wants something for nothing.”

“Could you give us the list of your staff who worked on the Allington annex?” said Battler.

“Why should I?” replied Gerard indignantly, sticking out his bottom lip, making him look even more childlike. “I’m happy to cooperate with the police but what authority do you have?”

“We’ve been engaged by one of the missing men’s families to look into the disappearance. That body could be their son. It would mean the world to them if you would cooperate with us too.”

“Oh…very well,” sighed Gerard. “But I’m really not supposed to give information like that out, it is confidential.”

“We’re very discreet,” said Battler.

“I hope you are because I could get into a lot of trouble for this.” Gerard picked up his phone and gave instructions to his secretary before hanging up. “Gentlemen, your list will be waiting for you downstairs at reception. Now if you’ll excuse me I have a meeting in ten minutes.”

All three of them rose.

“Thank you for your time Mr Kerrell,” said Ryan.

“Please, call me Gerard. Us big business people have to stick together. I’m curious, why didn’t you hire my firm to do the work on your house?”

“I did get a quote from you but it was ridiculously high. Goodbye Gerard,” smiled Ryan, pleased with his parting shot as they filed out of the office.

“What do you think?” said Ryan as they descended back to the ground floor in the lift.

“Sweaty, shifty creep,” said Battler. “But I think he was being honest with us.”

“Me too,” said Ryan. “Plus I can’t see him killing anyone and dragging their body across farmland. A man that unfit would drop dead of a heart attack.”

They both turned to Bruiser when he released an amused chuckle.

“What do you think about what he said about the Marshes?” Battler asked Ryan.

“I don’t know. They’re a nice family and they’ve been good to us, but you never know, do you? I might pay them a little visit, see if I can gauge them.”

“I’ll do some digging too,” said Battler. “You seem to be enjoying this, you should come in on the business with us.”

“I must admit I am finding the chase interesting,” replied Ryan. “And it would be very satisfying to get to the bottom of these disappearances before the police.”

“They’ll always be the enemy to you, won’t they?”

“A leopard can’t change his spots,” said Ryan.

The bespectacled receptionist had the list ready and waiting for them, which she handed over along with another playful smile and her phone number to Battler.

Ryan left him to chat her up, Bruiser standing off to one side looking bored, and returned home. He was disappointed to find Rachel had gone out. She’d left him a note saying she had an appointment at the hairdressers. He didn’t know why she was constantly fine tuning herself when she was absolute perfection. He had hoped to get some quality time with her upstairs while the kids were at school.

Instead he wandered into the kitchen and filled the kettle, turning over in his mind what he’d learnt from Gerard Kerrell. Knowing he wouldn’t get any rest until he’d spoken to Chris he replaced the kettle and went back outside to his Range Rover, already figuring out what he was going to say.

Fortunately he had the perfect excuse to visit. The Marsh’s farm was a vast estate, the main house a beautiful Georgian building painted bright white, making it stand out against the surrounding fields.

As he climbed out of his car Ryan could see his own home across the expanse of fields, just waiting for them to move in. Police were still searching for more bodies and had brought in a range of fancy equipment to check underground. He sighed regretfully and turned to walk up to the house, the door of which opened before he got there.

“Hello Ryan, to what do I owe this pleasure?” smiled Chris, a tall, gangly man with short dark blond hair. His manner was pleasant and relaxed, Ryan found him an easy man to get along with. “Come to check on your animals?”

“I wanted to make sure they’re not making a nuisance of themselves,” he replied.

“I’ll take you round to the stables so you can visit them.”

Ryan had no wish to go around petting animals, even if they did belong to him. He’d never been one for furry, fuzzy things, he didn’t like the mess they made or the way they smelled. It was Rachel and the kids who were into all that, especially Leah. Her pony was happily grazing in a lush paddock with the Marsh’s three horses.

Chris made a clicking noise at the back of this throat. “Sophia, someone’s come to visit you.”

The glossy pony briefly looked up. Ryan prayed she wouldn’t approach because he did not like horses. Fortunately she found him to be of as little interest as he found her and returned to her grazing.

Chris led him to the goats and chickens. Ryan marvelled at how he was able to tell which were theirs and which belonged to the Marsh farm. They all looked the same to him. Maybe he couldn’t and he was just pretending.

“I can’t tell you how much this means to us, you taking them all in,” said Ryan as they walked back to the house.

“That’s what neighbours are for.”

“I’m afraid we may need to trespass on your hospitality for a bit longer.”

“So I heard and it’s no problem. Do you want to come in for a coffee? Angela would love to see you.”

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