The Girls in the Woods (23 page)

‘I think Tilly is in danger. You need to upgrade her missing person’s case to high risk.’

‘Should I ask how you know this?’

‘Well, you can, but I don’t think you’ll want to know the answer. Please, Will, I’m being serious. I saw a young girl similar to her get into a battered old Land Rover with a man she didn’t know and I think that girl might be one of the bodies that you found. I need to see pictures of the girls that you think could be them, like,
now
. I only glanced at them briefly the other day and my brain doesn’t seem to want to remember much.’

‘I’m at the village hall. Can you come here?’

‘Yes, I’ll be there soon. Will – whoever killed them is local or was local. So you need to start looking close to home, and I think that they still live around here.’

He couldn’t say much because the detective inspector was hovering around him, and even though Annie was a colleague as well as his wife she had nothing to do with this case and he wouldn’t want her interfering. Knowing him, he’d report them both to professional standards because that was exactly the kind of man he was.

‘I thought as much, and I agree; however, I can’t talk right now – but I’ll speak to you soon.’

He hung up, making her realise that now wasn’t a good time for him or for her to be putting him in an awkward position. She wondered what had been written on that scrap of paper below the roughly drawn map; it had been so small she hadn’t been able to make it out. She thought about driving the short distance to the village, but then decided against it; if she walked it would buy her some time so that whoever had been hovering around might have left so she could speak to Will.

As she left the house she wondered how Jo was today; reaching the village hall she saw the assortment of cars and clocked the Super’s Land Rover. Not wanting to put Will in an awkward situation, she decided to walk the other way. It wouldn’t hurt her to check in with Jo, see if she was okay and make sure her bully of a husband hadn’t been getting too handy with his fists. It was much cooler today which was a relief; the burning hot sun had been nice on holiday, but it wasn’t the same when you had to walk around in it. Finally Jo’s cottage came in sight and she walked towards it. Knocking on the front door, she waited and waited. Surprised there was no reply she walked around to the side of the house where Jo’s husband’s studio had its own entrance. There was a car parked in the drive so someone was home. She knocked on that door even louder; there was no reply. Too tired, and now desperate for the toilet, she knocked once more. This time she heard a door bang from inside and then footsteps echoed down the hall towards her. Relieved that she could use the toilet after all, she waited for the door to open and grinned, hoping to see Jo – but it was her husband who opened the door. His face was red and his white, sweat-stained T-shirt was untucked from his jeans. He had a stubble that hadn’t been there yesterday and he looked a complete mess.

‘Oh, I’m really sorry to bother you. I was looking for Jo?’

‘She’s not in. I think she went shopping.’

‘Ah, never mind. Sorry again, but can I ask you a huge favour before I walk back – would you mind if I used your toilet? Being pregnant is a nightmare. I can’t go ten minutes without needing the loo.’

A scowl spread across his face, making him look much more menacing than he had the last time she’d met him, and she felt the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Her early warning system was kicking in, but she ignored it because he faltered and then gave her a huge grin.

‘Of course you can. Sorry. I was busy in the darkroom, so I never heard you knocking. Come in. I’ll show you where the toilet is.’

Annie followed him inside, closing the door behind her. There was something about him that seemed so familiar but she had no idea what. He led her down a dark corridor which opened up into a huge, light-filled studio with solid oak floors and white walls. Along one side was a mirror that almost filled one wall.

‘Wow, you have an amazing studio. I didn’t expect it to look like this at all.’

‘Thank you. I’ve worked long and hard to get it just right. It’s a bit of a pain being out in the middle of nowhere, but it doesn’t seem to make any difference to my business. I still get plenty of customers. In fact if you want that baby bump portrait you really need to get booked in before I can’t fit you in at all – I’d hate to let you down.’

‘I will. I haven’t seen much of my husband lately – he’s been working a lot – but I’ll ask him after and definitely let Jo know.’

He pointed to a door in the corner of the room and she smiled at him, crossing the floor to get to it. There were two huge framed portraits on the wall and she stopped to look at them; as she stepped closer she felt her spine begin to tingle and a chill made her shiver. It was the girl from her vision, she was sure of it – only she looked as if she was asleep. Annie tilted her head and the shock of what she was looking at hit her so hard she felt her legs tremble as they threatened to give way. Aware that he was watching her every movement she stepped back, forcing herself to smile at him. As she did she noticed a familiar black Vivienne Westwood bag underneath a chair in the corner of the room; it was exactly like the one she’d bought Tilly for her birthday. It even had the same black and gold cat keyring attached to the gold chain. Annie frantically tried to work out how her niece would know this man or for what reason she would be here.

‘They are beautiful photos. Are they recent? I like how they almost look asleep.’

‘Thank you. No, they’re old ones but I really liked the composition and the lighting on those two. I’ve come a long way since then, but I like to keep them there to remind me of the early days.’

She nodded and walked towards the toilet door, trying not to let her legs betray how she really felt. Scared to speak she opened the door and stepped inside, sliding the tiny brass bolt across, a bolt so tiny even with her swollen stomach and ankles she would be able to kick it in. She had seen enough dead bodies in her time to know that those two girls in the photographs on the wall were well and truly dead. She lifted the toilet lid up and sat down, pulling her phone from her pocket. She needed to buy herself some time and to get hold of the police, because outside the toilet door was the man she had no doubt had been the one she’d seen in her vision and who had killed then buried those two girls in the woods. He also had something to do with her niece’s disappearance.

She pressed the switch to make the phone go onto silent and dialled Will’s number, but there was no signal. The sickness that had been churning inside her stomach began to rise up her throat. Next she tried Jake, then she dialled 999 but there was no signal to connect her. Typing out a message to Will she pressed send but the little red circle telling her there was no network appeared. Standing up, she flushed the toilet and pushed the phone down into her bra; hopefully when she moved out of the toilet into a more open area the message might send automatically. She washed her hands in the tiny sink, trying to think about what she was going to do, then she realised that the only thing she could do was pretend everything was normal and she had no idea who he was or what he’d done. She needed to walk out of here because she was in no position to fight him, not without getting hurt or worse still letting the baby get hurt. She opened the door to see him standing over by the long bench, messing with one of his cameras.

‘Would you like a drink before you go?’

‘No, thank you, I’ll only need the toilet again. Honestly, I had no idea when I found out I was pregnant that it meant spending nine months with backache and wasting more time in the toilet than on the sofa. I’ve taken up far too much of your time already. Thank you so much – I was busting.’

He smiled at her and she began to walk across to the door which he had led her through. It wasn’t too far away; she just had to stop acting like a freak and get to it. She didn’t give the pictures a second glance this time and had almost made it to the door when he spoke behind her.

‘Tell me, Annie, what do you really think about my photos? You looked a little shocked after you’d studied them. What did you see in them that no one else ever has? And believe me, there have been a lot of people in this studio since I decided to put those two extra-special photographs on my wall, and no one has given them more than a fleeting glance. I’d be interested to know why they stand out for you.’

‘I think they’re fabulous. I was a little – and please forgive me for being so rude – but I was surprised by just how good you are. I was kind of expecting you to be just average, if you know what I mean.’

He laughed.

‘I should take that as some kind of backward compliment then, should I? Are you sure you wouldn’t rather wait for Jo? I could take a couple of test shots of you while we’re waiting, see what you think of them. You could even take them home to show your husband how good I am.’

‘I can’t – sorry. I’ve just remembered I have an appointment with the midwife and she’ll be expecting me.’

She could feel the fine film of sweat that was forming on her brow and she knew that her voice sounded strained.

He nodded.

‘If you’re sure. I don’t have anyone booked in this afternoon because they cancelled at the last minute, and Jo could be a while yet. It’s just you and me.’

He gave her that big smile, the one his much younger self had given the girl in her vision, and her heart felt as if it was going to explode straight out of her chest. Annie knew that he knew she’d made the connection.

She turned to open the door to the outside world – to her freedom, to Will who she would get to come back with a search warrant and a team of men with very big guns… but she knew deep down that he wasn’t going to be letting her leave any time soon. Her hand clasped the cold brass handle. She was so close to her freedom, but before she could pull it down he was behind her. He wrapped a rope around her neck and began to pull it as tight as he could. Her fingers flew up to the taut rope, pulling at it, trying to free it from her neck. He walked backwards, dragging her with him, and the pressure on her neck made the room begin to swim. She lifted her foot and kicked her leg out behind her as hard as she could. It connected with his knee, giving her enough time to break free. With all her might she ran back towards the door, but he reached out for her arm; grabbing tight hold of it he yanked her and she felt herself begin to fall. Before she hit the floor he was there with a piece of white rag that had been soaked in some foul-smelling liquid, and he pressed it against her nose and mouth – making her gag. She opened her mouth to bite his hand, but he shoved the rag straight into it then punched her in the face. The world began to swim as a hundred hot pins and needles began to burn her eye socket and this time she couldn’t stop herself from blacking out.

Chapter 25

Jo put the groceries onto the conveyor belt and stared across at the headlines screaming out from the front page of the local newspaper. She looked up at the rest of the papers to see similar headlines and she felt sick. Those poor souls had been buried behind her house in the woods for all those years and she never had the slightest inkling. Well, technically it was Heath’s house; she’d moved in with him, selling her cottage to fund the build for the studio, leaving her with very little money. She did have a tin hidden at the back of the cupboard with almost two thousand pounds in – her emergency get-away stash – but she’d never had the guts to take it and use it to actually get away. Twice she’d come close, but then her nerves had got the better of her and she’d talked herself out of it. Weren’t all men thugs and bullies? She had nowhere to go and not enough money to start over again. The cashier had to ask her to pay twice, she’d been so absorbed in her daydream. Her cheeks burning, she’d apologised, taking the money from her purse and handing it over. As she wheeled the trolley across to the counter at the back of the shop to pack her bags she’d been oblivious to the queue behind her and hadn’t noticed her old boyfriend, the doctor, standing behind her. As she put the last of the shopping into her bag for life she felt a warm hand brush against her shoulder and she jumped, turning around. If Heath was here she’d be in trouble for taking so long that he’d had to come looking for her. The relief must have shown on her face when she saw it was Paul and immediately he apologised.

‘I’m sorry, Jo, I didn’t mean to scare you. Is everything okay? You seemed so distant.’

She tried her best not to, but she couldn’t help it – the tears began to fill her eyes, burning them, and before she knew it they began to roll down her cheeks. Mortified, she grabbed her bag and dashed out of the shop. She almost collided with a group of nine-year-olds on a school trip; muttering her apologies she realised that she sounded like a mad woman and wondered if he would have her committed to an insane asylum. Maybe that was what she needed; at least it would get her away from Heath. As she briskly walked away from the shop she tripped over the uneven curb and fell to the floor in a muddle of tins of tomatoes, broken eggs and orange juice. Two strong arms lifted her up and began to check her over to make sure she wasn’t injured.

‘Are you hurting anywhere?’

She shook her head, wanting the ground to open up and swallow her and the crushed shopping that was scattered at her feet.

‘Wait there. Don’t you dare move.’

She flinched and he reached out to touch her arm.

‘I meant don’t run away again. We need to talk. But if you don’t want to, then you really don’t have to… but I’d like it if we could.’

He didn’t look up at her because he was too busy salvaging what shopping he could. When he straightened up he shook his head.

‘I can’t believe that I’ve stood back and watched you for so long. I don’t care about your husband or what he thinks. You’ve had a shock and I’m taking you back to the surgery to make sure you’re okay and not hurt. We need to talk, and if there’s a problem then I want to help you. I can’t stand to watch you lose yourself any more. Look what he’s doing to you, Jo.’