Saving Tara Goodwin (Mystery Book 1) (39 page)

BOOK: Saving Tara Goodwin (Mystery Book 1)
8.89Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

She thought quickly, ‘Yes, it’s alright, someone had privately accessed the computer, but it was a correct procedure.’

He wondered who could have such high security clearance they could act privately.

‘Right. Well I’m going for a walk now, I need to get my bones moving.’

‘Oh? So where did you have in mind?’

He half smiled. It was pretty obvious this lady had been given her orders.

‘Don’t worry, I’m just going over to the copse, there’s something I want to see.’

Sam felt her chest tighten, ‘Are you sure? It doesn’t sound like a good idea.’

Listening to her, he realised it wasn’t only himself who’d been warned off that place.

‘It’s okay, I’ve been there before, and I only want to check something.’

‘But I thought the copse was out of bounds to all personnel.’

‘Yeah, so they say, but I’ve already been there with Angela, so don’t worry.’

She relaxed a little, ‘Oh, I see. Well I guess it’s alright then. I didn’t know.’

Wandering through the graveyard, it didn’t take long to find what he was looking for.

Five graves had been freshly dug, and three of them were already filled, probably with Dudley, Anderton and Hillsdown. But the other two were waiting, and he guessed they were meant for Monty and little Tara Goodwin.

 

Watching, Lucinda stared through cold eyes as the twins drove away in the Land Rover, and when Martha gave her a small cautious smile, she scowled.

‘You stupid old hag. Thanks to you two idiots, I won’t get any sense out of Chrissy until at least tomorrow, and that just happens to be a damned nuisance.’

Standing in the deserted kitchen, she knew she was in no mood to speak to Chrissy.

She was bound to complain, and couldn’t stand another moaning woman.

Martha was bad enough.

‘My hand hurts, my hand hurts,’
But why the fuck tell me … It’s not my bloody fault if she can’t use the kitchen tools properly. Do I have to be responsible for everyone?

Snatching angrily at a bottle of wine, she flounced out of the kitchen and along the shadowy path to the lovers fountain, and sitting down on the bench, drank the wine from the bottle until the blinding pain in her head began to ease.

And it was soothing, just watching the boy and girl making love in the moonlight, but she shivered involuntarily when she thought of them up there in the priest hole.

But that wasn’t her fault, they’d been such wonderful models she couldn’t bear to see them leave, and anyway, she’d given them eternal life, out here in the moonlight.

Thinking of them, they reminded her of the boy and girl in the Swiss clock, and that a man by the name of Montague was only waiting for confirmation of address before she would be sent out to cleanse him, but at least she now had her darling Chrissy, and if she could take the Goodwin girl tomorrow, she would be back on schedule.

But that, of course, brought another worry.

If Angela didn’t want Montague to be returned, there would be two more playmates for the priest hole, but it was getting crowded now, and although the girls could sleep two to a box, she wondered if it might seem indecent to ask one of them to share with Montague, after all, he was a grown man and they didn’t even know each other.

 

Ted had watched over Tara all evening, and he thought it strange, because although she seemed perfectly happy in the crowded pub and was quite willing to talk to anyone, she always made sure to stay close to either Sammy or himself, and he wondered why.

As the evening went on, it occurred to him that she only became nervous when some of the older men got too close and friendly, and then she would suddenly turn and flick that hollow glance of fear to him.

And later, when they’d finally made their way out of the pub, he watched and listened as Sammy Paradise tried every trick in the book to walk her home, and although he knew she was excited and tempted, she simply gave Sammy a huge smile and said goodnight.

Slipping her arm through his, they strolled off down the moonlit lane to the cottage, but suddenly she stopped, and looking up to him with her bright and open, innocent smile, asked if it would be alright if she helped out in the garage tomorrow.

Ted thought it would be absolutely wonderful, his heart almost bursting.

‘And why not? What could possibly happen to her there?’

 

3
8

 

Samantha awoke to the ringing of Angela’s red phone, and throwing back the covers, stumbled out of bed and made her way down the stairs.

Getting dressed, Frank followed on down, ‘Problem?’

‘Yes, that was Louise, Angela’s coming back, and she isn’t very happy.’

‘Oh, and did she say why?’

‘No, except she’s been in a meeting all night.’

Drinking coffee in the kitchen, they heard Angela’s car come skidding to a halt, and when she marched up to the cottage, slammed open the kitchen door.

‘Good, you’re both up, so did Louise phone?’

‘Yes ma’am, and I’ve made fresh coffee if you’d like some.’

‘I certainly would, my nerves are giving me hell.’

She looked over to Frank, ‘And you can take the day off, I’m going to be busy with Sam.’

Nodding, he walked out as Samantha brought the coffee to the table.

‘It looks like you’ve had a rough time, ma’am.’

‘Well you could say that, as the shit has finally hit the fan, big time.’

‘Oh dear, and why’s that?’

‘Glenndenning, and as we know, he’s responsible for the file violation, but I can’t send Lewis after him because I’ve just found out he’s on the list of names, and the only people who can authorise his cleansing, are the Continuum.’

‘But they would, wouldn’t they?’

‘Sure they would, but I can only access them through that cow, Michaela Rattenegger and for some reason she’s blocking it, and if that wasn’t bad enough, Glenndenning is sailing on his yacht today and he wants a particular young lady on board by this afternoon.’

‘So is that a problem?’

Angela glared, ‘Well it sure will be if we don’t send a message, pretty damned quick, because I’ve already told DC to kill that particular young lady on sight.’

 

Lucinda awoke early in the guestroom, and as she laid there with her thoughts in a tangle, the alarm clock suddenly went off, and sitting up, she threw it across the room.

‘For god’s sake, shut up.’

Glowering, she got out of bed and stormed off down the hall to Christiana.

‘Oh, so you’re awake, are you? Well isn’t that nice, just laying in bed to all hours, but do you know what kind of a night I’ve had? No ... and not that you care of course, but I’ll tell you anyway.’

‘Well first I had to make my own supper, then I had to make-up that fucking torture chamber of a bed in the guestroom, and then I had a stupid nurse on the phone from the hospital. And can you imagine what that total idiot said?’

‘She had the nerve to tell me that the dopey twins were being kept in for surgery!’

‘I told the stupid bitch the servants had work to do here, but would she listen, and did she even care one jot that I had to fend for myself?’

‘No, she bloody well didn’t, and now I’ve got to play nursemaid to you, and I suppose you’ll be expecting breakfast in bed. So is that what you want?’

‘Oh, but of course. Yes ma’am, no ma’am. And don’t you trouble yourself about me, because you’re the high and mighty, frigging guest. So what the hell does that make me, a fucking servant?’

Staying silent, Christiana almost wept at how easily Lucinda had taken her at the cottage, but worst of all, she’d now drawn Dmitri into danger by sending him the Valkerie note.

Listening to Lucinda storming down the long stairs, she felt the pain of the chains and handcuffs holding her tightly on the bed, and she still could hardly believe how it had all gone so horribly wrong, and just when she’d found Dmitri again.

Forcing herself to think, she used the pain and the hate of the twins to keep her spirit fighting, the rape by Arthur an obscenity while the pain from Martha’s games had been hideous beyond thought.

But even worse was the fear of what was to come, and she’d told Dmitri she was staying here at the farm, so what would happen to him if he decided to come and look for her?

As Lucinda prepared a tray of hot buttered toast, marmalade and boiling coffee, that hated tune suddenly floated out, and quivering, looked across the kitchen and saw the little wooden boy and girl revolving around and around in the Swiss clock.

She faltered, her body convulsing, and while she trembled, her hands spilt the coffee over the rim of the mug. So had Montague’s confirmation come through already?

Hearing footsteps on the stair, Christiana tried to hold back the panic, then the bedroom door was suddenly kicked open, and there she was again.

‘So, you’re still in bed. Well if you want your breakfast, then fucking well have it.’

Christiana saw the tray sailing through the air towards her, and then it crashed down, the boiling coffee scalding her eyes, hot buttered toast cascading into her face, the china plate cracking her forehead while the heavy tray hit her mouth and split her lips.

Lucinda watched as she thrashed and tried to wipe the boiling coffee from her eyes, and as she writhed in agony, her flesh bled with the cutting of the chains and handcuffs, but she only closed the bedroom door and shrugged her shoulders to the sobbing.

Sitting quietly in the priest hole, she read through the decoded message, but it wasn’t Montague’s confirmation after all.

 

Attn DC. IMPERATIVE NOTICE.

The deliverance of TARA GOODWIN is cancelled. Repeat, CANCELLED.

She is required on the yacht
POLYVOTIS
at Hamble Marina, Southampton Water.

If possible, take her to Hamble today.
POLYVOTIS
is due to sail soon.

Confirm IMMEDIATELY.

Best wishes,

A.

 

She glowered at the message. Well isn’t that just frigging wonderful.

Now, not only did she have to snare the bitch, but she had to drive the cow to her yacht…

A bloody servant, that’s all she was to everyone.

 

It was early when Dmitri walked out of the guesthouse and the old city of Bath was already bustling, and looking around, smiled with the pleasure of it, the frantic organised chaos of a city coming to life, suiting him very well.

Wandering down the tree lined avenue to the bus depot, he soaked up the energy buzzing around him, the buses, delivery vans and trucks, people hustling to offices and shops, the cafés and street vendors selling coffee and rolls while boisterous children caught their buses to school, the pretty girls going to work, and postmen, traffic wardens and streetwise pigeons on the crowded jostling pavements, and boys and girls delivering newspapers.

He breathed it all in, and it was so good to be back in the midst of life and to enjoy the taste of freedom, but best of all, soon to be with his beautiful and wonderful, Christiana.

Daydreaming, he idly wondered where she was and what she might be doing.

Christiana was always so busy, and even now on her vacation in the UK she was still living in the fast lane, and what did she say?

She was at Sheverill’s Farm near Sherston, a madhouse and wanted to get out, so meet her in Malmesbury at garage of old friend, Ted Willis.

In the bustle of the bus depot, he found that the one he wanted was already in its slot, and joining the queue, listened as the other passengers told the driver of their destinations, his ears pricking up when he realised this bus went to Sherston on its way to Malmesbury, and when the driver asked him, he said, ‘One way please.’

 

Ted saw Tara’s gaze flicking everywhere as she watched the market square coming to life, and she smiled so happily as the old town settled on her.

Tugging at his sleeve, she pointed to the curiosities in the market square, but soon they had to leave for the garage, it was almost time to open up and old Len would be arriving on his ancient bicycle.

As the two men brought the garage to life, she busied herself in Ted’s chaotic office, and sang quite happily while the water for tea boiled on the big old wood burner.

She smiled at the clutter of Ted’s filing system, and except for the old black phone, there was a complete lack of technology, no computer, fax, copier, or even a typewriter.

The garage was a relic, lost in time.

Gazing around happily, she suddenly stopped when she saw the calendar on the far wall.

So why was such a beautiful young woman smiling so seductively to no-one at all, and why was she naked except for stockings, and why was she pushing out her lovely breasts to anyone who cared to look?

She cringed when she remembered what some horrible men did to girls dressed like that, and the more she gazed, the more her heart went out to her.

Eyes brimming over, she snatched a pen from the desk and began to write fast and carefully on the glossy calendar.

Dear lady, I know how horrible it must be for you to have to do wicked things like this, and I hope one day you’ll be free, like me. Lots and lots of love, your friend, Tara. XXX

By mid-morning, Ted was ready for a mug of tea, and returning to the office, saw the calendar, and Tara’s message.

It burnt fiercely for a few minutes, and the chard pieces blew away across the yard.

 

Driving past Hawthorn Cottage, Lucinda parked her sports BMW a little way up the road from the Willis garage, and when she checked her persona in the rear-view mirror, saw a woman dressed in a smart business suit which complimented her shimmering black hair and the half-moon platinum glasses, and her small black leather handbag contained nothing more than a plastic bag with a man’s handkerchief, soaked in Mace.

Watching, she saw an old man cheerfully serving his customers at the petrol pumps, but later her eyes suddenly narrowed in fierce concentration when a childlike figure with tight blonde curls carried a steaming mug of tea out to the old man.

Studying her closely, she cross referred to the Minotaur description, and now there was no doubt in her mind that she was looking at Tara Goodwin.

As she watched the scene she calculated her arrival time at Southampton Water, and her meeting with the yacht,
Polyvotis
.

While thinking through the possible scenarios of how to steal this girl, the little blonde suddenly walked out of the garage and strode happily up towards the market square.

 

The square was now alive with all manner of people, mothers chatting while their babies looked around from pushchairs and buggies, the men loading groceries into cars, and then the bus from Bath drew in on the far side of the square and set its passengers down.

With Lucinda following, Tara checked her shopping list and made her way into a pretty little bakery crammed full with pies, fresh bread and cakes.

Looking through the window, Lucinda smiled as the girl took her time to choose jam doughnuts and chocolate eclairs, and paying, wandered out, checking her list.

‘Excuse me, but are you Miss Goodwin. Miss Tara Goodwin?’

Spinning round she looked into the beautiful dark eyes of an elegant professional lady.

‘Yes, that’s me.’

‘Oh thank goodness I found you, Mr Willis said you’d be here somewhere, what a relief.’

‘Why? What is it? What’s wrong?’

‘Well he’s been asking for you, and such an unfortunate accident.’

‘Accident? Who’s had an accident?’

Fumbling in the pocket of her jacket, Lucinda drew out her Identity card.

‘Sorry, please excuse my manners, I’m just a little addled today. You see my name is Claudette, Denise Claudette, I’m from Cardinal and I happened to be passing through your area when the call went out to look for you. So was he … I mean, is he a close friend?’

Tara stared in confusion, ‘Who?’

‘My goodness, didn’t I say? So sorry, it’s Mr Lewis, and he’s had a bad fall, at, oh …, something Manor. I can’t quite remember, would it be, Tornby Manor?’

Tara began to tremble, ‘No, it’s Thornley. Thornley Manor. So how is he?’

‘Well I really don’t know, as I said, it was a general call to find you, but Mr Lewis was quite sure you were staying with Mr Willis in Malmesbury, and as I was passing through, I thought it only fair to check, and thank goodness I did.’

‘So where is he?’

‘I understand he was taken by air-ambulance to that specialist hospital near Salisbury, and his office thought you should know because he’s desperate to see you one last time.’

Tara’s eyes brimmed over when she remembered everything he’d done for her.

‘So what would you like to do? Mr Willis said he could take you to the hospital later, or if you prefer, you can come with me now, and he’ll follow on just as soon as he can.

It’s up to you, of course, but I did get the impression it’s really quite urgent.’

Tara nodded dumbly as her emotions tried to cope with it all.

 

Dmitri stepped off the bus, so relieved to be in Malmesbury at last, and shouldering the backpack, looked around and saw a line of shops on the other side of the square.

Other books

Cold Shot by Dani Pettrey
Cloak Games: Thief Trap by Jonathan Moeller
Time to Play by Sam Crescent
Cress by Marissa Meyer
Aftershock by Sylvia Day
Wicked Games by Samanthe Beck
Seducing Wrath by Lynne St. James
Trinity by Conn Iggulden