The Darkness Beneath, page 35
Stone nodded. ‘That would make sense. What about alibis?’
‘He lived with Stacey, but since she vanished he’s been on his own.’ Alex thought back to the night Nell had been terrorized by the masked intruder. Luke had been at the guesthouse with Michael and Newt. It was the night after Stephanie Richardson’s party and he had known Nell was going to be on her own until Alex had finished his shift. It would have been easy for him to return to the guesthouse after Michael and Newt had dropped him off. ‘I think there’s enough for me to go have a chat with him.’
‘Mind if I tag along?’
Alex glanced at Hunter, not sure if it was a good idea. Luke was supposed to be his friend. Did he not owe it to him to have this chat privately?
‘I know you feel a loyalty to him, Alex, but don’t lose sight of what we’re dealing with here,’ Hunter reasoned. ‘If he is guilty then he’s not your friend. He’s a sick son of a bitch who has been butchering women.’
Always the voice of logic.
Alex smiled tightly. ‘Let’s go.’
*
They pulled up outside Luke’s townhouse ten minutes later and Alex’s gut knotted further when he spotted Tommy’s patrol car parked in the driveway.
‘That’s Tommy’s car. He’s supposed to be with Nell up at the guesthouse.’
Hunter’s jaw tightened. ‘Let’s go see if Luke’s home.’
Alex knocked on the door, waited a beat, trying again when there was no answer. If Tommy’s car was here it made sense he would be inside, so why was no one answering?
He walked the perimeter of the property, aware of Hunter close behind him; he could see no sign of anyone being home, then he reached the kitchen window, saw the spattering of blood up the wall, the further trail leading across the kitchen floor. He exchanged a glance with Hunter, unholstered his weapon, tried the kitchen door. Finding it locked he stepped back and gave it a hard kick.
The door flew back on its hinges. Weapon drawn he entered the kitchen.
‘Luke? It’s Alex. Are you home?’
There was no answer.
The trail of blood led from the hallway, across the kitchen, to the closed door that led to the basement. Whose blood was it? Did it belong to Luke or Tommy? And if Tommy was here then where the hell was Nell?
Hunter signaled for Alex to check out the basement, while he did a sweep of the first floor.
Alex twisted the knob to the door, pulled it open and flicked on the light. The blood trail led all of the way down the stairs.
From below came the sound of groaning.
He descended the stairs, gun aimed and ready to fire if necessary. Tommy was sprawled on the basement floor, blood gushing from a wound in his head. He was barely conscious, and Alex radioed for back up and an ambulance as he knelt beside him.
‘Who did this to you, Tommy?’
Tommy mumbled something, but it was barely legible.
‘Where’s Nell, Tommy? Is she here?’
‘Sorry… I’m… sorry.’
‘Tommy, where’s Nell? Did Luke do this?’
This time he didn’t get any answer as Tommy slipped back in unconsciousness. Alex removed his jacket, used it as a pillow, placing it under Tommy’s head and trying to make him as comfortable as possible. ‘Hold tight. Ambulance is on its way.’
He heard footsteps on the stairs, glanced up to see Hunter joining them.
‘We’re all clear upstairs.’ He glanced at Tommy. ‘What happened?’
‘He’s not lucid enough to say. I’ve radioed for an ambulance.’
Alex glanced around the basement that served mostly as a laundry room. It was sparse in furnishings and he found his attention drawn to the large chest freezer. It was old fashioned, looked out of place with the more modern washer and dryer. Luke was a gadget freak, always liked to have the latest amenities. Why would he have an ugly old freezer in his apartment?
Weapon still in hand, he approached the freezer with a sense of trepidation, his head telling him he was being stupid, his gut suggesting otherwise.
As he yanked up the lid, the odor hit him and, although it was faint, he recognized it as death.
Two bodies were inside, both female. The top victim, her eyes still wide in terror, was familiar from her photograph: Caroline Henderson. Her body hadn’t been found with their killer’s other victims. Her throat had been cut and other knife wounds on her body seemed similar to those of the victims they had pulled from the ocean grave. Beneath her was the body of Stacey Monroe, Luke’s girlfriend. She was still partially dressed, her body in a more decomposed state than Caroline’s with vicious bruising around her throat suggesting she had been strangled.
Luke had said she had left him three weeks ago, carried on a charade that he was heartbroken, yet all this time she had been lying dead in his freezer. Doctor Lockwood had said Stacey had called her, saying she needed to see her urgently. Had she discovered the truth about her boyfriend or did she suspect he planned to kill her?
‘Jesus!’ Hunter stood behind him and let out a low whistle. ‘If you had any doubts you shouldn’t have now.’
Tommy mumbled something as he came to again, but it was barely coherent. Alex recognized one word.
Nell.
Dread coiling in his belly, he went back to the fallen officer. ‘Tommy, talk to me. What about Nell? Where is she?’
‘Guesthouse,’ Tommy managed. ‘Luke wants… journal.’
‘What?’
His cellphone chose that moment to ring. Alex grabbed it from his pocket, recognizing Michael’s number. ‘Michael, this is not a good time.’
‘Is this Chief Cutler?’ It was a woman’s voice.
‘Who is this?’
‘My name is Georgina Walker. I’m a nurse over at the hospital. Michael O’Connor asked me to call you.’
‘Where is he?’
‘He’s currently sedated. He was getting agitated. He asked me to call you, said to tell you Nell is in danger. He mentioned the name Caleb.’
‘When? When did this happen?’
‘Maybe ten minutes ago.’
Alex ended the call abruptly, the growing dread inside him now spilling over into genuine fear. He recalled the night he had lost Sophie. This wasn’t going to happen again. He gently slapped Tommy round the face. ‘Tommy, where’s Nell? Is she at the guesthouse? Tommy?’
It took a moment. Tommy was drifting in and out of consciousness.
‘Tommy, is Nell at the guesthouse?’
Eventually he registered.
‘You’ve gotta… stop… Luke.’
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
2005
It started the day Sarah died. That was when Luke Trainor first discovered exactly who he was. He had wanted her, was used to getting what he wanted, and her rejection had left him reeling, reminding him of his prudish cousin, Jane, and that bitch, Marla Jefferson. They had rejected him too, both tried to humiliate him. Sarah was no better.
That humiliation and the frustration balled into rage that slowly built inside until it consumed him. He had never had the opportunity to get even with Jane, but had spent years dreaming of ways to get retribution. He hadn’t made that mistake with Marla though. He had made her pay and he would make Sarah pay too. They all thought they were better than him and he needed to show them they weren’t.
Sarah hadn’t seen him, had her back to him as she pegged up sheets. The back door was open and he slipped inside the guesthouse. He had never been inside before, and he found himself in a large kitchen. Another door on the far wall appeared to lead into the heart of the house and he crossed the room, keeping his movements quiet, aware Bella Golding’s idiot son and Tommy were probably upstairs.
The hallway was long and spacious leading to the front of the property and what he assumed was a reception area. In the space in between stood a grand staircase leading to the second floor and archways on either side leading to both a living room and a dining area. There would two other doors and Luke checked both, finding one was a cluttered cupboard, while the other, which stood ajar, led down to a basement. He could hear the whir of a washing machine, guessed that was where Sarah was doing the laundry.
It was the perfect place to hide and wait.
She came downstairs twenty minutes later as he stood in the shadows watching her through the eye slits of the cheap mask he had bought, the anticipation that had been building now at an unbearable level, reminding him of the night he had broken into Marla’s house. She had been terrified when she woke up to find him in her bedroom and he had soon wiped that stuck up look off her face.
As Sarah unloaded the machine, refilling her basket, he crept up behind her, pulling his knife out of his pocket and flicking the blade. She must have heard him because she started to turn and then he had hold of her, clamping his hand over her mouth as she tried to scream.
‘Hush.’ He pressed the knife against her throat. ‘We don’t want to disturb the kids.’
She had frozen in his arms, a whimper escaping through his fingers and he had pressed the knife tighter, aware the tip was cutting into the delicate skin of her throat, grew hard when she tried to squeal and struggled against him. Marla had struggled, but no one had believed her, just as no one would believe Sarah. He was aware of her sweet perfume, the scent of her shampoo, the racing of her heartbeat and of her intense fear. He fed off of it, pushed the knife deeper still as he allowed his free hand to roam over her breasts.
He wanted her so bad.
‘You and I are going to have some fun.’ He bit her earlobe hard enough to make her flinch. ‘You do as I tell you, okay.’
She nodded, and he felt her body quiver in fear. It was amazing how compliant the knife had made her. But then she startled him, stamping hard on his foot and driving her elbow back into his belly. The breath whooshed out of him and he dropped the knife, momentarily lost control, lost that precious second allowing her to break free of his grip and make a mad dash for the stairs.
She was screaming and he panicked, chasing after her.
He caught her as she neared the doorway, grabbing her arm and pulling her back towards him, and she swung around, lashing out. As he tried to subdue her, she made a grab for the mask, knocking it back of his face. It clattered down the stairs as she stared at him in horror.
‘Luke?’
He only meant to put his hand over her mouth, but it ended up against her throat and then both hands were there and he was squeezing hard, aware she was thrashing against him, fighting to breathe, her eyes widening as they stared into his. Her face had briefly morphed into Jane’s. Pretty, blond, stuck up Jane, the favored cousin who could do no wrong and had already lauded it over him. He squeezed harder, felt her go limp.
A noise came from above, footsteps on the stairs from the second floor. Luke let go of Sarah, watched her body tumble down the stairs and heard a loud crack as her head hit the concrete floor. He followed quickly, grabbed his knife and the mask, hiding in the shadows as he saw Tommy appear at the top of the stairs.
‘What is it? What the hell is it, Tommy?’
Jenna? What the fuck was she doing here?
And then they were descending the stairs and Luke saw his whole life flashing before him, knew he couldn’t go to jail.
Tommy was crying. ‘Jesus, Jenna, you’ve killed her.’
‘I didn’t mean to.’
Why did Jenna think she was responsible?
‘What the hell are we going to do?’
‘I’m sorry.’ Jenna had her hands on her head, tears streaming down her face as she turned, in that moment spotting him. ‘Luke? What are…?’
The fear of being caught manifested itself into anger. ‘What the fuck have you done, Jenna?’
He stepped out of the shadows, ignoring Tommy’s look of shock, his focus solely on Jenna, aware she was the one he needed to manipulate.
Her bottom lip trembled. ‘It was an accident, I swear.’
‘This doesn’t look like an accident. What the hell did you do to her?’
‘She was only supposed to get a little sick.’
‘She’s dead! That’s not sick.’
‘I know, but it was an accident… I swear.’
The story of the brownies came spilling out between sobs and Luke felt his heartbeat quicken. Jenna and Tommy believed they had killed Sarah, that they had somehow poisoned her.
‘This is bad. I can’t believe you fucking killed her.’
There was more wailing from Jenna. ‘What are we going to do, Luke? I can’t go to jail, I can’t. I have my whole life ahead of me.’
‘So did Sarah, but you’ve taken her life from her, haven’t you?’
‘Please help me.’ She grabbed at the front of his t-shirt. ‘Please, it was an accident. You have to believe me.’
‘Why should I help you? You did this. It’s nothing to do with me.’
‘Why are you here, Luke?’ Tommy questioned. ‘What were you doing in the basement with Sarah?’ Luke looked across at him. Tommy’s tone was accusatory and had Jenna looking up. She had been so preoccupied with finding Sarah, convinced she was responsible for killing her, she hadn’t stopped to consider why he might be there. Now she did and her eyes hardened slightly.
‘You were seeing her, weren’t you? I knew I was right.’
He had to think quickly if he wanted to get out of this mess. Right now, Jenna’s anger that he might have been seeing Sarah behind her back was the least of his problems.
‘Yes.’
‘You’re a bastard.’
‘And you’re a killer. You murdered the girl I was in love with.’
The jab hit and brought with it a fresh bout of tears.
‘We need to call the police,’ Tommy mumbled, pulling out his cellphone.
‘But what are we going to tell them? It was an accident, Tommy. What if they don’t believe us though?’
Tommy hesitated, looked at Jenna. ‘We don’t have a choice.’
‘But I can’t go to jail. I can’t.’ Jenna looked tearfully at Luke again. ‘What am I going to do? You have to help me Luke.’
‘How am I supposed to help you, Jenna? Are you asking me to help you get rid of the body?’
He floated the question out there, left it a moment, watching as the idea registered with both Jenna and Tommy.
‘We can’t do that,’ Tommy shook his head, his tone suggesting he was appalled by the idea. ‘We have to turn ourselves in.’
As Luke suspected, Jenna was immediately on board. ‘She’s already dead, Tommy. It was an accident and I don’t see why we should go to jail.’ She looked at Luke, her eyes pleading. ‘Would you help us?’
‘Why should I help you? You killed her. I didn’t do anything wrong.’
‘Luke, please. I know we’re no longer together, but you loved me once. Please don’t let me go to jail. You have to help me. Please, I’m begging you.’
*
They had buried Sarah in the backyard where the new conservatory was to be erected, knowing the earth had been freshly dug over and that the concrete floor would shortly be laid.
It had taken a while to convince Tommy. Luke knew he had a crush on Jenna and played on this knowledge, while Jenna did her part, pleading and begging with him, until eventually Tommy had agreed.
It would have been easier if it had been the three of them, but Clarke Golding was upstairs. Luke knew he was unpredictable, could be a liability. He persuaded Jenna to try to keep him occupied. She seemed happy with the idea, not wanting to get her hands dirty, but then Clarke appeared at the top of the stairs.
‘Why are you and Tommy taking so long?’ he had accused. ‘I have the next game ready.’
‘I’m coming. Tommy’s a little busy.’ Luke had listened as Jenna had tried to usher him up the stairs, but Clarke had pushed past her.
‘What are you doing, Tommy?’ His face crumpled when he spotted Sarah’s limp body. ‘Sarah? What have you done to Sarah?’
‘It was an accident, Clarke.’ Tommy had tried to reason with him, his face pale and his eyes looking unconvinced by his own lie.
‘Is she dead? Sarah can’t be dead.’
Clarke rushed to the foot of the stairs, dropping to his feet and sobbing over Sarah’s body.
Luke scowled at Jenna as she joined them. ‘You’d better sort this out. Calm him down.’
It took much persuasion, but eventually Jenna managed to get Clarke out of the way. Luke didn’t trust he wouldn’t talk though and took him to one side after the body was in the ground, while Jenna and Tommy scrubbed up the blood. He had to be sure he had Clarke’s silence.
‘You can’t ever tell anyone what happened here tonight.’
‘But what about Sarah?’
‘If anyone asks, she left the island and has gone back to the mainland.’
They had cleared her room, piling her belongings into her suitcase, switching off her cellphone, burying everything in the ground beside her. She was due to finish working at the guesthouse as soon as Bella Golding was out of the hospital and had been looking for another job. It should be easy to convince people she had just left.
‘But she hasn’t. She’s still here. People are going to find out.’
‘They won’t if we don’t tell them.’
‘But…’
‘And I need you to promise me, Clarke, that you won’t ever tell anyone, because if I ever find out you breathed a word I am going to have to come back here and hurt you, do you understand? You saw how we made Sarah disappear. There’s plenty more room down there in the dark next to her. You ever tell a soul and I will make you disappear too. No one will ever know what happened to you. You and Sarah in a dark hole together in the ground.’
He saw Clarke’s bottom lip wobble.
‘Promise me, Clarke.’ When the boy wavered, Luke pulled out his knife, flicked the blade and jabbed it against his chin. ‘Promise me. Unless of course you want me to put you in the ground now. That will be easier. If I kill you and make you disappear now I won’t have to worry about you telling anyone what happened.’
‘No, please. I won’t tell anyone I promise. Please don’t hurt me.’
‘No second chances. If I find out you’ve talked I will come back and kill you.’
