Nowhere to Hide, page 9
‘No, what I did with your family was tell them the truth. You can try to blame me for losing your job, but we both know that the buck stops with you.’
I stare at him dumbfounded, barely recognising the man before me. He isn’t angry. He isn’t shouting. His tone is cold, calm, and, dare I say it, reasonable, as if he is determined to make me understand. But there is something about his demeanour that frightens me.
‘You wanted me to be complicit in your deceit. My first meeting with your dad and your sister, and you expected me to lie to them. What kind of person does that make you?’
‘I never tried to make you lie,’ I bluster. He is twisting everything around.
‘And then you cause a scene in the taxi. I have a reputation to consider. I can’t risk having my face splashed all over the tabloids because my girlfriend can’t control her temper. Our personal life is private, Mica. We deal with problems behind closed doors.’
‘It wasn’t a scene. It was a discussion,’ I snap back, my cheeks heating. Okay, perhaps I should’ve have waited until we were home, but I had been upset at what had happened in the restaurant. ‘You hurt me tonight and I wanted to know why. And I never expected you to lie about why I left Lemon Source, but you didn’t have to be so blunt about it. Besides, we both know the reason I don’t have a job at the moment is because I’m still waiting for you to talk to Tara. Why didn’t you at least tell Dad I had something lined up?’
Duncan’s lips thin and his pale eyes heat. ‘I think you proved tonight you are a terrible publicist. I need someone I can trust and depend on. And who fixes damage, rather than causing it.’
Is he kidding? He is seriously going to go back on his word?
‘You promised.’
‘And now I have changed my mind. You can’t honestly expect me to employ you after your embarrassing display tonight.’
‘But I need a job.’
I can’t hide the panic in my tone and he picks up on it. We both know that being out of work for months isn’t going to help my chances of finding something new.
‘Well, I can’t help you there, but you’re right, you do need something to fill your time,’ he agrees. ‘I think you’ve had it far too easy since you moved in here and it’s making you lazy and selfish. It’s time you started to pull your weight and showed me a little respect.’
I stare at him, unsure how to respond. Why is he being so cruel? Tears prick at the corner of my eyes and, sensing my upset, Chester tries again to come to me, growing agitated when Duncan won’t let him.
‘Quieten down, you stupid animal,’ he snaps, his sudden anger tensing every muscle in my body.
He turns back to me, swirling the ice cubes in his glass before taking a sip, his eyes never leaving my face. I clench and unclench my hands, as I stand before him, feeling like I am in the head teacher’s office.
‘Tomorrow, I am going to give Shirley her notice.’
‘What? Why?’
‘Having a housekeeper is a waste of money when you’re swanning around here doing nothing. Looking after the house can be your responsibility.’
My jaw drops. ‘You want me to be your cleaner?’
‘I want you to clean our home. Perhaps the hard work might make you appreciate the fact that you live here for free.’
This was not how I anticipated this conversation going and I am lost for words. Emotions ball together in the pit of my stomach. Fresh anger and humiliation, but also doubt. I don’t want to, but he has me questioning everything. Is it possible he is right? Have I been lazy and selfish, taking advantage of him?
I need some fresh air to consider everything that has just been said.
‘Can you let Chester go, please? I have to let him out.’
‘We’re not finished yet, Mica. I want you to apologise.’
No way am I doing that. Okay, maybe I am a little at fault, but Duncan has to share a portion of the blame for tonight.
‘Look, just let him go. He needs to pee.’
As if in agreement, Chester barks and strains at his collar. He is getting distressed.
Looking annoyed, Duncan rolls his eyes. ‘Rob?’ he yells.
‘I’m here,’ comes the other man’s voice and I realise he is already on the stairs.
Rob has this knack of being there the instant Duncan needs him and it’s a little unsettling. Like he is spying or eavesdropping on us.
‘Take the dog out to pee, then lock him in the kitchen,’ Duncan instructs, releasing Chester.
‘No!’ I protest, reaching out to my goldy, but before I can comfort him, Rob has hold of his collar and is pulling him from the room.
‘Let him go,’ I demand, heading after them as Chester continues to bark.
I don’t make it to the door. Duncan is up and out of the chair, his vicelike grip closing around my arm and yanking me back towards him.
‘Get off of me.’ I tug at my arm. He can’t manhandle me like this. My heart is thumping, but still I try to hold my ground. ‘You can’t lock him downstairs. He’s used to sleeping upstairs with us.’
‘Not any more. I am sick of you treating my house like a zoo. From now on, the bloody dog sleeps in the kitchen.’
‘He doesn’t have his bed.’
‘He’s a fucking animal.’
I fight to get away again, this time managing to wrench my arm free. I refuse to stay here for a minute longer and my plan, as I head for the door, is to get Chester, grab my purse and keys, and get the hell out of here. I don’t care that I’m only wearing a robe, or that I’m over the limit.
The sound of glass smashes on the wall ahead and I realise in horror that the stain darkening the green paint is whisky. Did he seriously just throw his tumbler at me?
My heart is in my throat as I turn to him, adrenaline pumping through my veins. ‘You’re crazy. This is over.’
I can’t describe the look that crosses his face as I spit the words at him, other than to say he looks wild, and like he really wants to hurt me. I need to get out of here.
He catches up with me as I’m crossing the landing, grabbing hold of my arm again, and as I turn to fight him off, a fist slams into the side of my face, my head snapping back in shock as I try to register the pain. And then he is releasing me and I am stumbling, the antique chest that stands near the top of the stairs in my path as I fall. Something cracks against my head and everything turns to black.
11
NOW
It was the picture frame that finally alerted Duncan something wasn’t right.
For sixty-three days, she had been gone, and deep down, he had believed she was dead, even if at first he had clung to denial.
When that first stage of grief had passed, anger had taken over.
How dare she leave him? And purposely too.
She had known what she was doing when she had gone into the icy cold sea at Hope Cove. She wasn’t the strongest swimmer, and it wasn’t an accident, as the police initially thought. If she had have slipped, it wouldn’t explain why she had removed her boots and coat. Both had been found on the rocks, next to her bag and ring.
When they turned to the possibility it had been intentional, they had looked closely at her relationship with Duncan and he had been forced to navigate some difficult questions. Tara Lemon had personally handled his PR and he was grateful he had stayed with her agency, knowing it would be difficult for Juliette Bellamy, Tracy Novak and Aarna Kapoor to speak out about one of their firm’s clients.
He stuck to the narrative that Mica had been suffering with her mental health and he had been the loving boyfriend trying to help her, grateful when her father and sister bought the lie too.
Behind closed doors, he had seethed.
He had given Mica everything and this was how the ungrateful bitch had repaid him.
Bargaining had followed anger. He would give up everything to have her back.
They still didn’t have a body. The coastguard said that the sea could be a harsh and unforgiving place, especially in a bitterly cold February, and it was possible she may never be found. The first few days had been a search-and-rescue mission, then it had changed to search and recovery. Eventually, it was called off.
Unhappy with the inconclusive result, he had hired his own team, paying for them to trawl the waters day after day. It was nearing the end of March when Rob had persuaded him to stop, telling him bluntly that he was wasting time and money, and that he needed to move on. That was when Duncan had finally sunk into depression.
Mica was out there somewhere, lost at sea, and until he had closure, he wasn’t certain he could move on. It seemed the Parkers had already got to that point, though. They wanted to plan a memorial service, which was laughable. They didn’t have a body.
Still, their decision was final. Duncan and Mica hadn’t been married, which meant he didn’t have control of the situation. Something he struggled with.
Acceptance never came. He was a bear with a sore head, barking at anyone who stepped in his path and incomplete without her. She consumed his every waking thought, as well as his dreams.
If she had understood him better, if he had worked harder to make her more compliant, perhaps it wouldn’t have come to this.
Rob wanted to clear her things out of the house, convinced it would be the motivation Duncan needed to get his life back on track. He had resisted at first, the idea initially unthinkable, but eventually, he had caved. His charity work had fallen by the wayside, and although the public still adored him and had been supportive through his tragedy, they would only wait for so long. Somehow, he needed to find a way back to them.
Tomorrow, Rob was going to bag all of Mica’s things up and remove them from the house. He was the only person Duncan trusted to do the job. The only one now who he trusted full stop.
The pair of them had known each other since childhood when Rob had been a couple of years ahead of Duncan at school. He, like Duncan, came from a broken family, and he had been one of the tougher kids. For whatever reason, he had taken Duncan under his wing and had his back in every situation.
Lacking opportunities – Rob didn’t have a pretty face like Duncan, or any particular skill set – he had turned to petty crime after leaving school, and was in prison more often than out.
Duncan hadn’t forgotten him, though, and as soon as he found success, he had offered Rob a job. The man was his confidante, his security and his closest friend. And Duncan knew he had his unwavering loyalty. He also had connections that had come in handy over the years.
It was during his third whisky that Duncan became wistful, needing to see Mica’s things. He went upstairs to the bedroom, opening her walk-in wardrobe and stepping inside. It was the first time he had been in here since she had left. The idea too unbearable.
This was the room he had made for her, filling it with beautiful clothes, shoes and handbags. She had wanted for nothing and every rail and shelf contained only the best labels. He trailed his fingers over silk dresses and cashmere cardigans, recalling how he had liked to choose her outfits for her. He had always had a better eye for detail than she had, and although she had resisted at first, she had gradually yielded, accepting that he knew best.
She had embarrassed him once when the features team of a glossy magazine had shown up at the house for a photo shoot, and irritation still niggled his gut as he recalled how she had come downstairs wearing one of her old dresses, a cheap-looking cotton garment with a hideous pattern that did nothing for her figure or her complexion. He had politely asked her to change, but she had refused, and not wanting to cause a scene, he had silently seethed while forcing a smile for the camera.
Ever the professional, he had ensured they’d portrayed a picture of loving unity. The shoot was more about the house and its history than his personal life and he engineered it so Mica only featured briefly. The press had never been that interested in her anyway. He was the star. She just happened to be his girlfriend. A role that came with responsibilities.
After the crew had left, he made sure she understood what those were, holding her down on the bed while he ripped off the dress before going and gathering up a handful of her old clothes. She had tried to stop him when she’d realised his plan was to cut them into pieces and he had been forced to lock her in the wardrobe while he destroyed them.
He remembered how angry she had been, banging on the door and screaming at him, saying she was going to leave him, and fearful that she might, he had left her in the tiny room overnight, giving her a chance to calm down.
Before he let her out the following morning, he instructed Rob to take Chester for a long walk, knowing that Mica wouldn’t leave without the dog. It gave him the precious time he needed to work her round to his way of thinking. A few kind words and gestures, a pity story with tears, telling her she was the only one who understood him. He knew her weak spots and how to manipulate them, turning himself into the victim.
It had all been for the greater good. Mica had underestimated his love for her and the lengths he was prepared to go to. He could have anyone, but had chosen her.
He had tried dating other celebrities, but it just didn’t work. He liked things exact and there was always a power struggle. His relationship with Kacey Lewis had survived the longest, but it had been turbulent behind closed doors. Kacey had been his equal in many ways, but she wasn’t subservient enough for Duncan’s tastes, and if they had stayed together, they would have self-destructed. Everyone thought they had been the perfect couple and somehow, they had managed to come out of the relationship on good terms. Perhaps because they each recognised a dark soul and both had their secrets to keep.
After Kacey, Duncan had searched for a specific type of partner. One he could mould to his tastes. Mica had been perfect. He would lavish her and worship the ground she walked on. She would want for nothing. All he asked in return was respect and compliance.
For so many years, it had just been Duncan and his mum, Denise. He had never known his dad and his mum had been an only child. His maternal grandparents had died when he was still a kid and, after that, his mum had become his whole world.
The only time there had been a man on the scene had been when Cliff had lived with them. Duncan had been ten when the salesman had wandered into their lives and initially, he had feared the man. Cliff enjoyed a drink, and when he had a drink, he liked to slap Denise about. Duncan had learnt to hide away whenever she received a beating, covering his ears so he couldn’t hear her screams.
When he was twelve, he had found out she enjoyed it.
She had cupped his cheek in her palm, her eyes shining brightly. ‘This is what true love looks like, Duncan. When you find the one, you will do anything for them, even when it hurts. Cliff gets a little too passionate at times, but it’s just his way of showing me he loves me and making sure we stay together.’
After that, he had viewed Cliff though different eyes and the two of them had grown close. Cliff always quick to offer his own brand of wisdom, telling Duncan how men were smarter than women, that they required a firm hand. How everyone is in charge of their own destiny, and that life is the survival of the fittest.
When he decided to end the relationship, both Denise and Duncan were devastated.
‘I would have done anything for him,’ Denise had sobbed. ‘One day, you’ll meet someone, son, and you will know she is the one. I want you to promise me, when you find her, you never let her go.’
He had promised, but he hadn’t believed her. He done his best to look after his mum. It had been so gratifying being able to give her all of the nice things she deserved after he received his first big pay cheque.
But then she had died too, cancer that spread too quickly, leaving Duncan heartbroken and alone. Of course he had plenty of friends, but they weren’t family, and his mother’s death left a gaping hole.
There had been plenty of women and relationships over the years, but none of them were marriage material. Then he’d met Mica and he had immediately known that she was different. There was something sweet and innocent and honest about her, and with her auburn hair and blue eyes, she reminded him a little of his mum. It was a sign.
Now she was gone too and he didn’t know how to deal with this fresh loss.
Her perfume and creams were all laid out on a dressing table that was dominated by a huge mirror, and setting down his whisky, he picked up the expensive bottle he had bought her for Christmas, spraying it into the air as he stared at his reflection and the dark circles under his eyes. He briefly closed them as the scent of Mica filled the room, imagining for a moment she was still here with him.
‘Why did you do this to me?’ he whispered to no one, as tears dampened his cheeks.
He picked up the whisky glass, downing the rest of the smoky, amber liquor, needing to numb the pain. Tomorrow, he would get out of the house. He couldn’t be here while his precious Mica’s things were being packed away.
Rob wanted to get rid of everything, to give Duncan a fresh start, but would it be so bad to keep hold of a memento?
He scanned the dressing table to see if there was anything he wanted.
And that was when he noticed.
The picture frame. The one that had always sat there with the photo of Mica’s mother. It was missing.
Surprise cut through the haziness of the alcohol and he blinked, suddenly more alert as he scanned the room, looking for anything else that might have gone. Everything was in its place, though, colour coordinated and neatly stacked, just the way he liked it. And, of course, he knew she had left her keys, phone and credit cards. They had all been found inside her handbag.
It was wishful thinking and perhaps a little foolish to believe she was still alive. She had nothing, so where would she go? Michael and Phoebe believed she was dead and she no longer was in touch with any of her old friends.
Still, as he turned off the light and left the wardrobe, the frame played on his mind. Mica was missing and so was the photo of her beloved mother.
