The Edge of Sanity (21 page)

Charlie waited for Jo to do as bid, then manoeuvred his hand under Kayla’s chin, forcing her head back. ‘She didn’t want me to let her go earlier, did you, darlin’? Got me in a real leg lock. Gaggin’ for it, she was.’

No, no more, Daniel’s gut churned. He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t! His heart was hammering so fast it was choking him. That piece of filth had his slimy hands on his daughter, and he was supposed to stand here,
doing nothing
?

No. No way! Rage exploded inside him. He lunged at Charlie. Wanted to smash the bastard’s teeth to the back of his throat. Hurt him so much he’d
plead
for his miserable life to be over.

‘
Whoa
.’ Charlie stepped neatly back, shoving Kayla at him. ‘Let’s not be hasty, shall we?’ he said, raising the gun. ‘Don’t want this little baby shooting its load, do we?’

‘
You
,’ Daniel grated, ‘are a fucking
dead
man.’

‘Yeah, right.’ Charlie’s mouth twisted into a smirk. ‘Got some front, haven’t you Danny Boy? So how precisely are you going to carry out that bold little threat, hey? With killer looks? No, you’re the dead man, sunshine,’ he sneered, ‘if you don’t shut your mouth.’

Daniel eased Kayla carefully behind him, delivering her safely into Jo’s arms, before turning back, to another well-aimed jab to the chest.

‘You don’t learn real fast, do you?’ Charlie eyeballed him angrily. ‘Now, I won’t tell you again, you do exactly as
I
say. Nothing more, nothing less, or
they
suffer.’

‘Well?’ He waited while Daniel counted down five before dropping his gaze.

‘Good.’ Charlie nodded, when Daniel did look away, finally. ‘Now, let’s have no more heroics, and no more backchat.’ He jabbed him again to drive his point home. ‘Got it?’

Steve, who’d been watching from the deck, lumbered down the steps. ‘Leave it out, Charlie,’ he said, glancing apologetically at Jo, who sat cradling Kayla to her breast.

He shook his head and walked past Daniel, looking at him as if he felt sorry for him, as well, Charlie couldn’t quite believe.

‘Whose side are you on?’ Charlie muttered, following Steve, who dumped the food in the kitchen area.

‘Mine,’ Steve said coolly. ‘You got the gun. You got them where you want them. Now, leave it out.’

Charlie balked. ‘Yerwhat?’

Steve turned to him. ‘You want the truth,’ he said in a hoarse whisper, ‘I ain’t convinced the bloke wouldn’t risk a bullet to wrap that gun around your neck, Charlie, me old flower. So pack up!’ Steve met Charlie’s disbelieving gaze with an angry one of his own. ‘The man’s had enough. And so have I.’

Charlie was dumbfounded. It wasn’t so much what Steve said, as how. His tone was downright disrespectful. And, to add insult to injury, Danny Boy didn’t appear to be jumping quite as fast as he ought to. He wasn’t doing anything, as such. Wasn’t even looking at Charlie in any particular way, but the fact was, Daniel was looking. And Charlie just didn’t like it, because the plain and simple truth was, he couldn’t read the look. And that was very unsettling.

‘You, er,’ Charlie narrowed his eyes at Steve, ‘wouldn’t be telling me what to do, Steve, would you?’

‘Wouldn’t dream of it, mate.’ Steve shrugged huge round shoulders. ‘About time you had a fix though, ain’t it, Charlie?’ He met his gaze. ‘Mellow out a bit, if you don’t mind me suggesting.’

Chapter Fourteen

The night had been a long one. DI Short drummed impatient fingers on his steering wheel, spat the Nicorette out of his mouth, and reached for an indigestion pill. He’d woken up the world and its wife, as well as the neighbourhood dogs, and come up with a big fat nothing. Charlie had disappeared, been beamed up by the
Starship Enterprise
. It was as if he’d never existed.

More’s the pity, he did exist. So where was he?

DI Short had pursued every avenue he could think of. Contacted nicks—local and not so local. He’d lifted every stone, and still the insect hadn’t crawled out. Dead-eyed-Charlie had gone to ground somewhere, with a shotgun.

DI Short slumped in his seat. Then pulled himself up. He would find Charlie. He was more than duty-bound. He was morally-bound to find out where the bastard was. He was also knackered and his stomach was grumbling loudly. Such were the joys of the job. He sighed and started the engine, obliged to follow his instincts, being a detective, and all.

It was a long shot, but he was running out of ideas and, more importantly, time. Whoever Charlie Roberts was intimidating with that gun was on a fast road to being dead. DI Short had a feeling in his water.

The girl from the nightclub was their only other lead. She’d been fifteen or sixteen, Mary had guessed, which would mean she was still at school, which was where DI Short was headed, on a tour of the local schools. Information was being gathered and statements taken from the nightclub, but he still had no idea whether the girl the irate father was searching for and the girl Charlie had been with were one and the same. There had been no girls of that age reported missing. Chances are Charlie was just passing time while pushing drugs and the girl had gone on home. DI Short hoped so.

Hoped she was nursing a bloody great fat hangover and nothing worse.

Only one way to find out and that was to check out the absentee lists and have a good sniff around while he was at it. After a quick stop off at the station for a call of nature, some mouth-watering cold pizza—he eyed the flat-box on the passenger seat unenthusiastically—and a cup of delicious polystyrene-flavoured coffee.

****

Hannah sloped dejectedly to the bus stop, her hair draped over her face—and worried sick.

She’d gotten off lightly, if she could call a rollicking from her mum getting off lightly. And if she overlooked the fact that Steve had been vile to her. But Kayla … She’d been in a terrible state when they’d all but forced Hannah from the car, then idled the engine to watch her as far as her gate, Steve’s forehead creased with a scowl and Charlie smirking, like the idiot he was.

Hannah had watched as they’d driven off. In the direction of Kayla’s house at least, she’d noted, relieved. Praying the noise hadn’t woken her mum, Hannah had waited around until the car disappeared over the hill, and then short-circuited them via the canal towpath.

She’d crouched just off the road, behind the crumbling brickwork of the humpback bridge, poised to ring the police and sod the consequences if they hadn’t brought Kayla home. Thank God, they had—though the car had initially stopped on the road short of the entrance to the boatyard, Charlie and Steve heavily into animated conversation in the front seat. What was so important they couldn’t discuss it after they’d dropped Kayla off, Hannah couldn’t fathom.

But then, if that cokehead Charlie had anything to do with it, she’d thought panicky, it’d be
where
they were going to drop her off after he did whatever he was going to do with her.

Hannah wasn’t about to let that happen. She’d jabbed at her mobile, part-dialling the 999, when they’d started the engine again, forcing her to duck back out of sight. They’d trawled slowly past where she was, Charlie tossing a spliff-end out of the driver’s side as they did, then turned through the gates to drive through the boatyard towards the house.

Almost crying with relief, Hannah had shot to her feet and headed back down the towpath, worried they’d catch sight of her on their way back.

She’d tried to ring Kayla, once her mum had finished banging on at her and slagging Kayla off for allowing Hannah to walk home on her own. A thousand times she’d tried to ring, but the landline was unavailable, according to the operator. She’d tried Kayla’s mobile and assumed she must have switched off, before crawling under the duvet to try and get some sleep. Now, having tried to get hold of her another thousand times, she didn’t know what to think.

Hannah rounded the corner, hoping to see Kayla at the bus stop. She wasn’t there. Hannah’s heart flopped. She dragged her feet, missed the bus and didn’t give a stuff. It was double games anyway, like running around with goose-pimpled thighs was supposed to be fun.

She hadn’t really expected Kayla to turn up for school. Kayla had looked like death warmed up when she’d last seen her, but Hannah was desperate to know she was okay. Kayla was her best friend. She’d been there for Hannah when her parents split. And Hannah had been there for Kayla when she’d sobbed her heart out in the school loos about her sister.

Hannah had thought about calling by the boatyard on the way to school.

Almost had, but guessed her presence would be about as welcome as the plague after the state Kayla was in. She’d give the house another ring, and then she’d have to call around on the way back from school, she supposed.

Still no answer. Sighing, Hannah pulled her mobile from her ear. This was too weird. She helped herself to one of Kayla’s Marlboro Lights, puffed on it inexpertly and had a good think. Okay, she reasoned, Kayla turns up “inebriated” to the point of passing out. And upset, once she came round. She’d obviously be that. Then there might be a row, and Kayla would be even more upset. Then Kayla’s mum would be upset, and then she’d feel guilty, as parents do. Kayla’s mum more so, given what they’d all gone through.

Maybe she’d decided to take Kayla away for a few days. Do the quality time thing with her daughter.

So far, so good. Hannah had another puff. So how come Kayla’s dad had been hanging around outside Strobes? They must both be well-worried about Kayla, Hannah supposed. She had been acting a bit weird lately, after all. Sort of thing he’d do, Kayla’s dad, even if he did go a bit mental. Nice, Daniel Conner was, even if Kayla didn’t rate him.

Yep, that all figured. Hannah spotted the next bus trundling around the corner and stubbed out her cigarette. They might have all gone away together, having a crack at reconciliation, maybe. That’d be cool.

Yeah, and maybe that cokehead Charlie would do the world a favour and drive himself over the edge of a cliff. In other words, not likely, given Kayla reckoned her mum and dad were tearing each other apart.

Hannah flashed her pass at the driver and clumped up to the top deck. Try as she might, she just couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

****

Kayla shrank away from Daniel, then Jo in turn, and shot for the door at the back of the boat. Jo flew after her, tried to pull her close, but Kayla squirmed and wriggled away, her sobs turning to chokes.

‘Don’t touch me!’ she screamed, turning terrified eyes on Daniel. ‘Don’t!’ she turned back to Jo. ‘Don’t let him. Tell him I’m sorry.’ She made no sense.

White-faced, Daniel moved towards her, and Kayla shrank back further. ‘I’m sorry,’ she sobbed. ‘I didn’t mean to.’

‘Kayla …?’ Daniel took another tentative step, trying to imagine what horrors were going through her mind.

‘Shut her up!’ Charlie warned, obviously irritated. ‘Because if someone doesn’t, I—’

Daniel whirled around. ‘
You
take one step towards her. Just one,’ he warned, ‘and—’

Charlie squared up. ‘And
what
, precisely?’ He advanced towards Daniel. ‘You’re gonna stop me, are you?’

‘Back off, Charlie.’ Steve was on his feet. ‘Just leave it. Give the man a break.’

‘I’ll break his neck, if he doesn’t watch his lip.’

Steve ran a hand over his kanji tattoo. ‘Yeah, right.’ He sighed. ‘That’ll help.’

Unbelievable. Charlie blinked, stupefied. They were all bloody at it, undermining him. What was going on around here? ‘Are you taking the piss?’ He turned angrily on Steve.

‘
Would
I?’ Steve muttered. ‘No, Charlie,’ he said. ‘You’re getting a bit edgy, that’s all.’

Charlie hesitated. Edgy was about right. That noise was going straight through his head. And the coke hadn’t helped. What he could use was an aspirin. But did he have one? Oh, no. Every conceivable drug to hand, but no aspirin. Great.

‘Yeah, you’re probably right.’ He nodded, kneading the back of his neck. ‘You’ve got one minute to make her shut it,’ he addressed Daniel, ‘or I do it for you.’

Steve glanced at Daniel. ‘Sort her out, mate.’

Which prompted a fresh outburst from Kayla. ‘No!’ She struggled hard against Jo’s grip on her wrists. ‘Please don’t.’

‘Kayla, for God’s sake, don’t what? What is it?’ Jo tried to pull her closer, but Kayla struggled harder.

‘Tell him not to hit me,’ Kayla pleaded, her eyes firm on her father.

‘Hit you?’ Jo’s eyes shot wide. She looked from Kayla to Daniel, who looked as if he’d been hit by a train.

‘Jesus, Kayl …?’ Daniel swayed on his feet, horrified. ‘What on earth …?’ He didn’t know whether to back off or go forwards. He took a deep breath and opted for the latter. Had to do something, before that bastard gave her something. ‘I wouldn’t … I’ve never …’

‘You’re angry!’ Kayla blurted, nonsensically.

Daniel stopped dead, looking at his daughter, utterly bewildered. Of course he was angry, so angry his gut ached, but not with her. What the hell …? ‘Kayla, I’m not angry—’

‘Liar!’ Kayla paled, tried to move further away, only to end up backed against the steps. ‘You’re running your hand through your hair. You always do that when you’re angry. And I
saw
you.’

Daniel shook his head. ‘Saw me what, Kayla?’

‘Hurt that bouncer. You just walked over and you floored him, just like that. I knew you must be upset with me then, so you’re bound to be now. I’ve ruined everything. And I didn’t mean to. I
didn’t
. I just …’ She broke off on a sob. ‘I just wanted to get away from all the arguments and the upset. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I …’ Her chest heaved with the exertion of breathing, her eyes were wide, those of a child.

Daniel closed his own.

Dammit.
She
had
been there. He’d known it. He’d felt it. Jesus, he thought, shaken. She was trembling—at the prospect of
him
coming near her.

This wasn’t happening. He wouldn’t let it.

‘Kayla, listen to me.’ Daniel moved towards her, slowly, holding her gaze and praying that she could see past the drugs that he would never, ever hurt her. ‘I am
not
angry with
you
.’ He stopped, careful of invading a space that she didn’t want him in. ‘Do you understand?’