Read Shattered (Dividing Line #5) Online
Authors: Heather Atkinson
“Can you take money out of the accounts?” Ryan asked Sheridan.
“No, I can only put it in. But I do know he uses shell companies too to launder the money.” A shell company provides absolutely no goods or services but takes money for them and produces fake invoices and receipts to give the money a legitimate place to go.
“He’s been laundering money for other people too,” said Sheridan, willing to tell them anything to make them go away. Rachel was still glaring at her with her black eyes and she couldn’t stand it.
“Who?”
“Bad people as well as rich people who don’t want to pay tax.”
“People who wouldn’t like it if he lost their money?”
Sheridan nodded, the shaking in her hands becoming violent. This was growing seriously scary.
“Can you turn the money around and send it back to where it came from?” said Rachel.
“I…I don’t know,” she said, wiping her clammy palms on her skirt. “I’ve never tried. What would it accomplish?” she said, trying to reason with them and hopefully talk them out of whatever plot they were coming up with.
“Turn one large sum around and send it back into one of the offshore bank accounts it came from. Such a large sum going into one account would set alarm bells ringing.”
Ryan shook his head. “Most of these countries have bank secrecy laws so everything’s anonymous. It wouldn’t be traced back to Alex. We need to stop that money being integrated back into the UK.”
“How do we do that?” said Rachel.
Ryan looked to Sheridan. “You can’t withdraw any money from that account, but you can divert it into another one.”
“I can’t,” she said, horrified.
Ryan pulled a gun and pointed it at her head. “You will if you don’t want your brains all over this very nice antique furniture, after Rachel’s finished with you of course.”
Sheridan’s knees went weak. “Alex will kill me.”
They appeared unsympathetic. “If you don’t do it we’ll kill you,” said Rachel.
Sheridan started to cry. “Please, I don’t deserve this.”
“No, you deserve much worse. You deserve to be handcuffed to a bed and beat up and abused, just like you did to those women. Look at me,” Rachel yelled.
Sheridan’s head snapped up, unable to see Rachel because of the tears blinding her, which was a bit of a relief.
“Did you ever touch Laila?”
“Laila?” frowned Sheridan, trying to recall one face from a long line of many.
“Beautiful, black haired, blue eyed.”
“Err, yes I think so.”
“And her sister, Sabine?”
Sheridan gave one slow nod just before she was knocked back to the floor by a another blow to the face. Ryan had to gently pull Rachel away when she started to lay into her again.
“Not yet Babe. Soon.”
She remained rigid in his arms as she fought with herself before taking a deep breath and nodding.
Ryan kissed her and the genuine love in their eyes when they looked at each other surprised Sheridan. She had assumed people like them weren’t capable of real emotions, but clearly they were. She wasn’t sure that didn’t make them even scarier.
“Sabine’s only a teenager,” Rachel shouted, making Sheridan cringe, expecting another onslaught. But instead Rachel took a seat and gestured for Ryan to continue.
When Ryan’s eyes fixated on Sheridan she recoiled. She held her breath as his hand slid into his jacket pocket, terrified he was going to pull out a weapon. She almost fainted with relief when he produced a mobile phone instead.
“Mikey, Jez. I need you both here. Bring Frankie,” he said before hanging up.
“Now what?” she asked him.
He sat down beside his wife and took her hand. “Now we wait.”
CHAPTER 24
They sat in silence for almost twenty minutes, Rachel glaring at Sheridan the entire time with those unnerving black eyes. Sheridan tried to look everywhere but at her, however her gaze was inexorably drawn back to Rachel.
“Can I get the first aid kit for my injuries? It’s only in the kitchen,” Sheridan asked them.
“No,” replied Rachel.
Sheridan was permitted to take a tissue from the box on the sideboard to dab at her cut lip. She could feel her whole face swelling but felt she couldn’t complain. She’d inflicted much worse on other women, some of them only girls. Was this some sort of reckoning for the misery she’d meted out to others?
Ryan and Rachel didn’t even react to the sound of the front door opening, of footsteps approaching. Sheridan shifted in her seat, a little gasp of fear escaping her lips when Mikey Maguire and Jez Law walked in, accompanied by someone she’d never expected to see in her own home. Frankie McVay. She watched, open-mouthed, as one of the most terrifying figures in the country poured himself a scotch from her bar and sat on her couch.
“What does this old tart want?” said Frankie, looking at Sheridan curiously.
“Do any of you know anything about Alex’s money laundering operation?” said Ryan. “It’s alright, you can talk in front of her. She’s part of it,” he added when they all seemed reluctant to reply.
“I know he uses offshore accounts to move his money about,” said Mikey.
“Did you know he’s laundering it for other people for a fee?”
Mikey’s tight expression told Ryan everything he needed to know.
“This,” he said, gesturing at Sheridan, “works on the operation. She integrates the money back into the UK once its been laundered and apparently there’s millions of pounds of Alex’s out there just waiting to be brought home. With a push of a button she can have it diverted elsewhere.”
“That’s a hell of a risk for Alex to take,” said Frankie. “What’s to stop her nicking the lot?”
“Alex will no doubt rely on the fear factor. Plus there’s nothing linking him to it should the authorities click onto what’s going on.”
“Great, we’ll take the fucking lot,” grinned Frankie, clapping his hands together.
“There’s a problem with that. Sheridan told us that the money doesn’t actually belong to Alex, it belongs to some very dangerous people.”
“Not more dangerous than us,” glowered Frankie.
“Possibly not but if we’re careless it could rebound on us. So I take it none of this money is yours Frankie?”
“No but I appreciate you asking first.”
Ryan didn’t let this sudden bonhomie fool him. He knew Frankie was trying to build a mutual respect between them in the event of their partnership. From the look on her face Rachel realised it too and was unimpressed.
“Let’s lose the money then all those people will be out for Alex’s blood,” said Jez.
“That’s all well and good,” replied Rachel, “but I’m concerned those people will associate the money laundering operation with Mikey and want recompense from him.”
“They wouldn’t dare,” said Mikey in a cold hard tone that surprised Rachel. It only now occurred to her that his usual lost puppy dog act was just that, an act. It hid a will of steel and the ability to savagely defend himself should the need arise. She should have spotted it sooner and it just went to show how rusty she was.
“You’re willing to take that risk?” she asked him.
“To fuck Alex up, yes. I can take care of myself now Rach, you don’t need to worry about me anymore,” he added in a softer tone.
“I’ll always worry about my little brother.”
He gave her a small smile.
“Brother?” said Sheridan, puzzled.
“It’s a figure of speech, that’s all,” snapped Rachel, her eyes turning black again, causing Sheridan to recoil.
Mikey frowned. He knew there was more to this than met the eye.
“So what do we do?” said Jez.
“How do you feel about doing something incredibly benevolent?” said Ryan, amusement playing on his lips.
“Not too fucking happy actually,” said Frankie.
“Giving’s good for the soul.”
“As my old mum keeps telling me, I don’t have one.”
“I think you’ll find this very entertaining Frankie. I know how much you like a good laugh. We can use Jeremy Hammond to put out the message.”
“What message?” said Mikey.
When Ryan related where he wanted the money transferring too, they all burst out laughing.
“Fucking beautiful,” exclaimed Frankie. “I’m willing to give up the cash for that. I just wish I could see the look on the prick’s face when he realises what’s happened.”
“Do it,” Ryan told Sheridan once they’d all calmed down.
“I can’t, he’ll, he’ll…” The thought of what Alex Maguire would do to her for this made her positively faint. When she fell backwards in a daze Rachel slapped her repeatedly around the face until she came round then steered her into the chair at her desk, opened up the laptop and switched in on for her.
“Do it,” Rachel spat.
The five of them watched over Sheridan’s shoulder as she made the transaction, so terrified she was hardly able to grip the mouse.
“There, it’s done,” she sighed, petrified of what the consequences of this treachery would be.
“Think of it as atonement for all the terrible things you’ve done,” said Ryan. “Rachel will now give you more penance. Come on lads, let’s wait outside.”
The three men were a little confused but did as he asked.
All Sheridan could do was stare at Rachel in mute fear as she stared right back at her. She didn’t make a move until the door had closed behind the men.
“Please don’t kill me,” whimpered Sheridan.
“I’m not going to but you’ll wish that I had. I’m going to make sure I’m imprinted on you for life,” said Rachel before drawing back her fist.
“What’s the deal with Rachel and that woman?” said Mikey as the men waited in the hall listening to Sheridan’s screams and cries of pain.
“She hurt Rachel,” was all he was willing to say.
Soon the sounds died down. The door opened and Rachel walked out breathing hard.
“Feeling better?” Ryan asked her.
“Much thank you,” she replied casually, patting her hair to make sure it wasn’t out of place. Her scars ached from the exertion but she was still on too much of a high to let it bother her. That had felt so good, righteous even.
“What’s your problem with her?” said Frankie.
Rachel hesitated, attempting to think up a lie. Then she thought she’d never get over it if she didn’t face it head on. “She attacked me in the brothel when I was tied up and helpless. That’s how the sick bitch gets her kicks. I owed her some payback.”
As always Ryan was amazed by her strength. Rachel would let nothing defeat her.
“I hope you gave her a fucking good hiding,” said Mikey, furious.
“I did. She won’t be hurting any more women any time soon. Shall we go?”
The five of them walked outside to the cars where the two men who had been guarding Sheridan waited for them, both sporting black eyes. It hadn’t taken Ryan and Rachel much to convince them to come over to their side.
Inside the house Sheridan strained to reach the phone on her desk, crying out in pain, her vision distorted as blood trickled into her eyes. She’d already guessed her left arm was broken. Not one part of her body had escaped the vicious onslaught, she’d never realised a woman could be possessed of such strength. Rachel had told her she was watching her and if she slipped back into her nasty habits she’d come back and finish her off. Sheridan was amazed she was still breathing, even if every breath was agony. As she phoned for an ambulance she already had her story worked out. Two masked intruders broke in and attacked her. She didn’t see them and wouldn’t be able to give a description. She had no doubt the detective put on the case would be in the Law’s employ anyway. Then she was going to take the first flight to anywhere, sod what Alex said. She was leaving the UK and she would never come back.
Back at the safe house Rachel went straight upstairs to the bathroom to clean herself up. Sheridan’s blood was on her hands and under her fingernails. Sadness welled up inside her as she washed it away. This was all supposed to be behind her. She should be in Devon with her children living a decent life and now she was right back where she started. Rachel splashed water on her face, reliving the memories of her attack on Sheridan, which had been immensely satisfying and she hated herself for that, hated the way hurting people came so easily to her. Granted Sheridan was evil and had to be stopped but what scared Rachel was the pleasure she’d got from the assault. She opened her eyes and saw how black they were in the mirror, how expressionless her face was and it was like looking at a stranger, a psychopathic one at that. Sometimes she feared there was something wrong with her. There weren’t many women capable of violence on such a scale. But then she thought of how she’d lived legitimately so easily. She only resorted to such drastic measures when she or her family were threatened, it was a defence mechanism. She didn’t experience the need to hurt others like Sheridan did and this consoled her a little. However the fact that she would do anything to defend herself made her very dangerous indeed.
Rachel dried her hands and face and shook off the regret at what her life had become. She held her head higher, determination blazing in her eyes. She would do whatever it took to make this nightmare end and to get her family back. If she had to tread on pieces of shit like Sheridan to do it, then so be it.
Ryan was relieved when Rachel returned downstairs looking like her old self. She’d been very quiet in the car on the way back and he worried all this was taking its toll on her but she was once again the strong composed woman he so adored. She sat beside him at the kitchen table and gave him a confident smile.
“There’s something I want to show you,” Ryan whispered in her ear.
“Oh yes?” she said enthusiastically. Every time he’d said this to her before it had culminated in wonderful sexual pleasure.
“Oh,” she said when he led her out into the garden to reveal some targets lined up.
“You sound disappointed.”
“I assumed you were going to take me upstairs.”
“I see.” He pulled her to him and stared at her with feverish eyes that practically devoured her. Rachel felt that familiar tingle between her legs. “Later. This is important,” he said.
“Fine,” she sighed.
He released her and produced the handgun from inside his jacket that he’d used at Sheridan’s house. “This is a Sig Sauer P two twenty and my personal favourite. Forty five calibre, holds eight rounds. Hold it, see how it feels.”
She took it, curling her fingers around the black Polymer grip. It wasn’t her first time holding a gun but she anticipated that soon she would be firing one for the first time.
“It’s a lightweight frame so it should be easy for you to handle. Why don’t you try it?”
She took aim at the targets he’d set up at varying distances. At first she missed but an hour later, with some patient tutelage from Ryan, she was soon hitting them all.
“You’re a natural,” he said proudly. “But remember, never hesitate, that’s what will get you killed. If you don’t think you can shoot then don’t carry it in the first place because if someone sees that in your hand and they have a weapon too, they’re going to shoot first.”
“I won’t hesitate,” she told him firmly.
“No, I don’t think you will. I’ll show you how to load it.”
After that the lesson was over so she held the weapon out to him but he shook his head. “That one’s yours. I’ve cleaned it and put it back together myself, so I know it’s in perfect working order. It won’t let you down.”
“Nice shooting Rach,” called Frankie, who had been watching from the kitchen doorway.
“Thanks,” she called back. Her finger tightened slightly on the trigger. “I could end any threat he poses to us right now.”
“I understand how you feel Babe, I’ve been tempted myself many times but that will bring a world of trouble down on our heads.”
“I suppose,” she sighed.
“We’ll try to talk him out of it again but next time we’ll tackle him together, he’ll find it harder to turn us both down.”
She followed him back into the house and went straight upstairs to put the gun in her bedside cabinet, not trusting herself not to use it on Frankie.
Alex was in bed with Katia, kissing her bare stomach and whispering to his babies inside her when there was a frantic knock on the door.
“Fuck off,” he called before kissing Katia’s red lips, her thighs locking around his waist.
“It’s important Boss. There’s something you really need to see right now.”
He sighed and gazed down at Katia. “Sorry.”
“Send him away then we can carry on,” she replied, pressing her body against his.
“Hold that thought,” he smiled, pushing himself up and pulling on a robe. His strength was returning quickly, he was almost back to normal, although his injuries did still ache. He pulled the door open to reveal a pale Col clutching a newspaper.