Out of Sight Out of Mind
Read Out of Sight Out of Mind Online
Authors: Evonne Wareham
Tags: #Suspense, #Psychological, #Crime, #Contemporary, #Thrillers, #Espionage, #Romance, #Contemporary Fiction, #paranormal, #thriller, #Fiction
Copyright © 2013 Evonne Wareham
Published 2013 by Choc Lit Limited
Penrose House, Crawley Drive, Camberley, Surrey GU15 2AB, UK
The right of Evonne Wareham to be identified as the Author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher or a licence permitting restricted copying. In the UK such licences are issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency, 90 Tottenham Court Road, London, W1P 9HE
A CIP catalogue record for this book is availablefrom the British Library
ISBN-978-1-906931-87-2
For my father, who would have been astonished.
It takes a lot of work to produce a book. The author may be the one with her name on the cover, but there is a whole team of people behind the scenes, who keep the wheels turning. This book is for them.
To the fabulous Choc Lit Tasting Panel, who chose it, and all the Choc Lit Team, for their hard work. My fellow Choc Lit authors, for their friendship.
RT Book Reviews
Magazine and Dorchester Publishing, for choosing the book for the final of their American Title IV contest. The Romantic Novelists’ Association for their New Writers’ Scheme and for making me an award-winning author.
T L Computer Systems (Wales), for dealing with author and computers in a state of melt down, and sorting out the technical stuff. The staff of the Holton Road Post Office, who have dispatched manuscripts all over the world. The First Friday Group, new friends who have taken such an interest.
Stephanie Ward, my university supervisor, for her patience when she found she had an author on her hands, rather than the student she was expecting. And my mother, friends and family, for their constant support. I hope I haven’t left anyone out.
To everyone: thank you.
It was a dark and dirty alley and a very expensive dress.
Madison Albi hesitated. She
really
didn’t want to go in there. Not in a shimmery little cocktail number and a pair of strappy sandals.
Hell, not even in boots and a protective suit.
Without her permission her foot took a step forward.
She peered into the shadows, wrinkling her nose at the smell. Stuff was rotting, down in the darkness. She didn’t want to know what. She shivered.
If you plan to go wandering around in the dark, you really should bring a coat. But who planned
this
?
A puddle of something that looked like oil gleamed in the lights of a passing car. It had to be oil. It hadn’t rained for days. Unless it was … blood?
Huffing out a breath, she pulled herself together. This was
so
stupid. She was spooking herself into nightmares here. All because she’d thought, just for a moment, that she’d felt something.
A burst of power, like static, in her head.
Huh! She’d had one glass of tepid white wine at the reception – which had been one glass too many, given the way it tasted – and now her imagination was working overtime.
Disgusted with herself, she turned away, trying to ignore the treacherous pull of disappointment.
She’d been so sure, just for that moment …
She took one step away, then another. Then stopped.
‘This is crazy.’ She swung round and marched back to the entrance of the alley. ‘What are you – a scientist or a wimp?’
She didn’t have to go in. She could stand right here, where there were street lights and traffic. She glanced around.
Hmmm.
This wasn’t exactly the centre of London. It wasn’t that light and there weren’t that many cars.
She cast a longing glance up the street, at her apartment block. Lights, people.
Warmth
. So near and yet so far.
In the other direction the section of the new development still under construction was a desolate wilderness of scaffolding and creaking tarpaulins. Was that the source of that burst of … whatever it had been? Was the sense she was picking up, of a presence – a presence that could connect to her mind – one of the security guards at the building site? She breathed deep. No – that was wishful thinking. There was no guard on the site. The security patrol came by every hour in a nice,
warm
van, to check the place out.
Which left her with something else. Something lurking in the alley between the two abandoned shops, boarded up, marooned and derelict, destined for demolition the moment a legal quirk over ownership was finally settled.
A sudden gust of wind set something flapping on the construction site. The sign proclaiming the second phase of the development to be nearing completion, and ninety per cent sold, was rippling as if it were alive. Madison shivered.
If you’ve got any sense you’ll go home, now. In ten minutes you could be sipping hot chocolate in your dressing gown.
But then you would always wonder …
Resigned, she took another step towards the alley. It really wouldn’t take long. A simple matter of collecting the power of her thoughts and projecting them into the darkness. The likelihood of there being any response was minimal. Less than minimal.
You’ve been looking for long enough, and you haven’t found anything yet.
Dropping her shoulders, which had unaccountably hunched themselves up around her ears, she breathed deep, focusing.
This she could do.
The probe went in smoothly, her mind expanding into the gloom in a controlled sweep, searching for connection. Sorting, sifting, sensing.
A thrill of excitement flared. There
was
something.
She leaned forward eagerly.
No, dammit!
The impulse that was jittering out of the alley was coming from the small, fuzzy mind of an animal. Probably a rat. She shuddered, snapping off the contact. There was nothing there. No ghoulies or ghosties. Nothing human.
She brushed her hands up her arms, feeling gooseflesh.
What are you doing? Standing in the cold, communing with a scavenging rodent!
Time to get real.
Go. Now.
As she moved, her heel twisted under her. Cursing softly, she stumbled sideways before regaining her balance.
And then, without warning, it came again.
An incredible surge of power, roaring out of the darkness, sweeping blindingly over her.
Even as a hand went to her throat in alarm, she felt the click in the back of her brain. Like coming home.
Then, in a rush, he was on her. Towering over her.
Light glittered on the metal bar, clutched in an upraised hand.
‘No!’ It came out as an ear-piercing scream.
The bar dropped.
In the sudden silence she heard it hit the ground and roll away.
‘Oh God.’ The voice was dredged up from somewhere very deep. Rusty. Older than dirt. ‘Didn’t know … woman … shouldn’t be here … not safe.’
He was swaying towards her, invading her space.
With no room in her head to think, she put up her hand to shove him back. As the flat of her palm connected with his shoulder she felt him flinch violently. The gasp he gave echoed in her own lungs.
Like a lightning bolt, even as she was withdrawing her hand in panic, skull-splitting pain arced out of him, and into her. Splintering into her mind. Threatening to engulf her.
She opened her mouth to scream again, for both of them. The sound died in her throat as the pain broke off, as swiftly as it had come. There was an abrupt, sickening blackness.
Then her assailant dropped like a stone, out cold at her feet.
Madison crouched by the inert body, teeth chattering. Her heart was hopping about in her chest like a demented frog, making it difficult to breathe. She steadied herself, reaching out a tentative hand to his neck, feeling for a pulse. His skin was colder than hers, but the beat there was strong.
He wasn’t dead.
Relief flooded her, followed by irritation.
‘Come on, Madison, get a grip. You don’t kill someone by poking them in the shoulder.’
She leaned in, looking him over.
She couldn’t see much in the dim light, except that he was big. Dark cap, dark beard, dark overcoat. The clothes didn’t tell her anything she hadn’t expected. A touch confirmed it. She withdrew her hand quickly from the greasy collar of the coat.
The man was a derelict, one of the homeless who lived on the street and slept in doorways or wherever else they could find. She blew out a breath. She’d worked at the lab with most of the rough sleepers from this part of outer London. He wasn’t one of them.
She felt around in the dark for the slim, gold evening purse that held her mobile phone.
Find the bag, get the phone, get help, get the hell out.
The bag had to be close; it had been in her hand when all hell broke loose.
Triumphantly she located the fine chain of the handle and pulled. When the chain gave way, she almost lost her balance. Totally confused, she found the broken end and traced it back, groaning as realisation dawned.
Her bag was under the body.
She was going to have to kneel down, to push him out of the way. With a sigh, she hitched up the hem of her dress.
After three unsuccessful attempts to roll him over she gave up. She couldn’t even slide her hand under him, to drag it out.
‘Sod it, sod it, sod it.’
They were completely alone; off the road, at the mouth of the alley that opened into the narrow area in front of the shops, that had been used for parking. Residents were still parking there, and would be until the building site was finished. Madison scanned the scattering of cars. No other human being in sight. The foyer of her apartment block glowed invitingly, just yards away. It might have been on the far side of the moon. She could be along the road in less than a minute, but if a car reversed in here while she was gone, trying to park—
She sat back on her heels. She had to get him somewhere safe. Safer than this, anyway. Which meant he had to be awake. Offering up a brief, silent prayer, she leaned over to tap his cheek. Tapped a little harder when she felt the flicker of movement.
Her heart lifted in relief when he coughed and muttered something she mercifully couldn’t make out. Breath hissed in her throat as his head flopped sideways, into a small patch of light, and she saw the green and yellow of old bruises on the side of his face and neck.
Someone had beaten him. Viciously.
No wonder he’d come at her with an iron bar. Blood was welling from a fresh cut over one eye.
She took her hand away sharply as a long shudder went through him.
He was waking up.
Thank God. Her knees were killing her.
She just managed to get out of the way as he rolled over, wincing.
‘Holy hell, it’s an angel. Two angels.’ The voice was husky but sounded more normal. Deep. No accent. He was squinting at her, fingers feeling up into his hairline. ‘Bloody heck! What did you hit me with?’
Madison was too busy helping with his efforts to sit up to argue the point.
Boy
he was big. Solid.
And still uncoordinated
. She dodged a flailing hand. Up close and personal he didn’t smell too bad, considering. Not like she expected a date to smell, but bearable.
With a brief pang for her dress, she knelt forward, bracing her arm to let him pull himself up. A surge of vertigo swept out of him and over her, then was gathered up and gone. Somehow he managed to get his feet under him and they made it over to a low wall. He collapsed on to it with a groan, dropping his head into his hands.
‘I must be losing it. Did you punch me, or what?’ He shook his head gingerly. ‘You must have a right hook like a battering ram.’
‘I think I just got lucky.’ He was staring up at her, owlishly. ‘I just finished off what someone else started,’ she explained.
‘Oh. Yeah, right.’ He scrubbed a grubby hand over his forehead, looking puzzled when it came away wet. Madison found a handkerchief and handed it over. He mopped at the cut, looking around vaguely. ‘There were some kids. Uh – couple of weeks ago. I was sleeping … Three weeks? Yeah – three weeks.’
‘They attacked you?’
‘Mmm.’ He shifted position on the wall, uneasy. ‘I think maybe … Did I mistake you for them? That they’d come back?’
‘Doesn’t matter.’ She was feeling around on the tarmac, where he’d been lying.
He coughed, hunching over, peering at her. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Looking for – ah!’ She pounced on the bag. Opened it. And found her sleek, black phone was now in about six pieces.
‘Where is he, then?’
‘What?’ She was only half-listening, intent on the wrecked phone. She prodded it. It was clearly beyond hope. ‘Where’s who?’
‘Boyfriend, date, whatever,’ he prompted.
‘Oh.’ She shook her head. ‘No date. No boyfriend.’ She followed his eyes down her dress, which now had a spreading stain on the hem. ‘It was a work thing. Reception. The mayor, people like that.’
What are you doing standing here, discussing your social life with a bleeding man? Need to take control here. The phone is gone, but he’s awake and talking, so it’s probably okay to move him.
‘You know you shouldn’t be out alone.’ He was frowning, words slurring. ‘Woman on her own. S’not safe.’
‘I can take care of myself.’
This from the man who came at me with a metal bar?
‘Look, if I help you, do you think you can get up the road, to that building?’
He sat up, focused. ‘Yeah. I can make it. But why would I want to?’
‘Why?’ She turned to face him, confused. ‘So we can get you medical attention. A doctor—’
‘Nah.’ He was shaking his head from side to side, for emphasis or to clear it. He didn’t look too happy with the movement. ‘Don’t need a doctor.’ He waved a hand. ‘You’ve done the good Samaritan thing, getting me up off the floor. I’m not planning to sue you for putting me there, so you don’t have to hang around. Go.’ He made a shooing gesture that almost had him off the wall.
Madison stared at him. ‘You think I’m just going to leave you here? Five minutes ago you were out cold. When you came round you were seeing double,’ she accused.
‘Yeah.’ Somewhere in the matted beard there might have been the skeleton of a smile. ‘Two angels.’ He mimed looking round. ‘Now, where did they go?’
For a second, fury sparked brightly in Madison’s chest. He was laughing at her.
Right, if he doesn’t want help, that’s fine
. She didn’t have to stand here in the cold, arguing. Her teeth were chattering. Her dress, her bag and her phone were probably beyond repair. She’d done her bit all right. Anyone with an ounce of common sense would have walked away already.
She swung on her heel, hesitated, swung back.
To hell with that. Common sense could take a hike.
His chin was slumped, the wide shoulders drooped and his arms were buried in the folds of his disgusting coat, holding himself precariously together. Whoever or whatever he was, and whatever he said, she couldn’t leave him alone and hurt, here in the dark.
But that’s not all, is it?
She could feel the need, clawing inside her like cramp. She was never going to walk away. Not from something like this. A reckless exhilaration was fizzing in her blood. She hadn’t imagined that surge of power. Her ears were still ringing with it. She’d felt his pain, mental and physical. This … he … was the most exciting thing she’d encountered since … since …
There had never been anything this exciting.
She couldn’t let him go. She had to get him somewhere safe, where she could assess him properly. Which meant she was going to help him, whether he wanted it or not.
When she went, he was going with her.
Without pausing for thought, she grabbed his good arm and yanked.
Taken unawares, and still unsteady, he came up with a rush.
Before he could protest, or evade, she shoved her shoulder under his and began to pilot him up the street.
He hauled in air as if she’d sucker-punched him. Her hand on his wrist stopped him slipping out of her hold.
‘I said I wasn’t going with you, lady. What part of no don’t you understand?’
‘All of it.’ She gritted her teeth and kept going. ‘Just walk, will you.’
The way he was leaning on her told her he’d be flat out again if she let go. She was pretty sure he knew it too, which was why he stopped trying to shake her off.
Until they reached the front of her block.
‘No! No way!’ He swore violently and dug in his heels when he saw where she was heading. ‘You can’t take me in there!’
‘I can and I will.’ She tightened her grip and ploughed on. ‘This is where I live.’
‘Lady, you’re crazy.’ He flapped his hand. ‘You got a porter, concierge or something?’
‘Of course. Mind the step.’ He stumbled, then got his feet co-ordinated. They were both breathing heavily. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘What do you think? One look and the guy will be calling the cops.’
‘Not when you’re with me.’
‘Not even if I was with the Queen! I’ll be back here in the road before you can turn around. S’no point.’
‘We’ll see – but as you didn’t want to come with me in the first place, why are you arguing?’ she asked sweetly. When he didn’t answer she put her hand behind his back to shove, getting a muffled curse of pain in response. It tweaked her conscience, but not much. Her shoulders were aching and they were almost at the door. ‘Stop making a fuss and get a move on, before we both die of hypothermia.’
The lights in the foyer skewered his eyeballs like lasers. With one thing on his mind – getting off his feet before he fell down – he changed tack, towing his captor towards the nearest sofa and flopping out of her grasp into the soft depths. Absently he stroked the red leather. Expensive. Nice place his angel lived in. Angel. Pity he had to pick a bossy one. But with his luck – except – what did he know?
‘How do you feel? Better?’
He hadn’t realised he’d closed his eyes. He opened one.
Better
didn’t describe the river of pain coursing across his left shoulder, nor the aching nausea of the too-empty belly, not to mention his head, which he was trying to ignore, but in her terms he probably was
better.
And she’d sounded so full of hope.
Now there was a word that hadn’t been in his mind for a while.
He grunted, which seemed to satisfy her. Maybe he
didn’t
feel so bad. He was getting warm, for the first time in a week, and the sofa was doing good things to his weary bones. Left alone, he might stretch out for a while. But that wasn’t going to happen.
The little guy from the reception desk had trailed them to the seating area, open-mouthed. Now he was shifting from one foot to the other, looking unhappy. No surprise there, seeing that he had a vagrant in his hallway, messing up his designer décor. Plus he was going to offend one of his tenants. Probably a good tipper, too. She looked like a good tipper.
He transferred his open eye to the angel. Actually she looked plain good, except she wasn’t plain.
Losing the thread here
. Tall, slim, brunette. Long hair. Straight. Shiny. The gold dress clung in some interesting places. Pity about the oil stain. He sat up a fraction straighter, so he could see the rest. Excellent legs. Fuck-me shoes. Now there was a thought. A very old, lost-in-the-past thought.
His mind hazed. Something about her—
There was a reason he was here, but he couldn’t recall it.
She needed someone to take care of her. Maybe that was it. Alone on the street at night, wearing all that gold round her neck.
He focused on the heavy gold chain. It glittered in the strong light and he looked away. Maybe he
should
stick around. She wanted him for something. Stick around, he’d find out what.
Fat chance.
The little guy had started his pitch. Wouldn’t be long now and he’d be out on his ass.
May as well make the most of the sofa while it’s available. Catch a few Zs.
‘Miss Albi. Um … I really don’t think I can allow this.’ Madison looked up from studying her captive. He seemed to have passed out again. Straightening her shoulders, she fixed Scott with her coolest stare. The concierge swallowed bravely. ‘My job is to keep people like him out. And he’s dripping
blood!
’ Scott’s voice dropped to a horrified whisper.
‘Only on to his coat. It’s not going on the furniture.’ Madison frowned, wondering what had become of her handkerchief, then brushed it aside to focus on the concierge.
Do not give in. Smile nicely, act gracious. Lie. And slip him a tenner.
Good thought. She conjured the smile.
‘I know this is difficult, Scott, but we only need a minute. As soon as I get him back on his feet and into the lift, we’ll be out of here.’
Behind them the street doors opened, with a blast of cold air. Madison nodded towards the pizza delivery man who’d come in with the air. The scent of garlic and tomatoes wafted round the lobby.
‘Why don’t you go and see to that, and when you come back, we’ll be ready to go.’
Scott looked unconvinced, but went.
‘Told you so.’
The captive was awake and watching her. Smug.
‘Shut up, you, I’m thinking.’
She saw him take a breath to respond, then decide against it and let it out again, collapsing further into the leather sofa.
While she was thinking she went back to her inspection. The dark cap was pulled down over matted hair. Stubble – no, make that beard – obscured most of his face. The heavy overcoat, buttoned at the throat, had been good once. When it was new. Some time back in the last century. Way back. The fabric was shiny with wear in some places, stained in others, but there were signs that someone, presumably its inhabitant, had tried to clean and brush them away.
