As soon as she confessed that she had seen Zoe’s body in the stable that night, her relationship with her son would be over. She thought of Peter, four years old, learning to swim. Smiling at her from the pool as he splashed about, bright orange armbands flailing.
She pictured the red BMX he had asked for one Christmas when he was small. The sheer joy on his face as he tore the wrapping paper away.
He had been such a beautiful child. She had spent many years worrying something would happen to him. That somebody would find out who she was and hurt him to get at her.
It was crazy, she realised eventually. And as time went by, she relaxed. She never completely let her guard down. She was always vigilant. But she softened. She learned to enjoy her children.
Yes, Peter could be a surly, antisocial teenager at times. But he was her surly, antisocial teenager.
She had worked so hard to make sure she didn’t lose him.
Now she feared their relationship would be irreparably damaged, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Michael Noakes had found her. He had tricked her. And he had targeted her family.
She shuddered as she remembered kissing him. How could she have been so stupid? All her usual barriers were down. She got drunk, and she allowed herself to be taken in by his good looks and charm. His compliments. Beth had been foolish. It wouldn’t happen again. As she sat pondering Michael Noakes, she tried to look at things from his perspective.
A heinous act had torn his family apart. An event that he clearly blamed Beth for, or held her jointly responsible for at least.
She imagined how Peter would react if somebody hurt Daisy. Would he hunt them down? Spend his entire life searching? Would she condone it?
Beth suddenly thought of the person who had facilitated all this. The person who had recognised her. The individual who all of these events had started with. She felt a terrible anger boiling up inside her. A rage like she had not experienced in decades surged through her. Clenching her fists, she hadn’t felt this way since… her father.
She knew what she had to do. She had to find Vicky.
50
The rain ran down the outside of the office window, although rain was an overstatement. It was that drizzly spatter that was colder, more irritating than a heavy downpour. Vicky Kershaw checked her watch.
Five minutes until she clocked off for the day. Great.
She had come into work without a jacket. The September sun had been pleasant enough that morning. She shut down her computer and pulled her phone out, tapping out a text message to Mikey.
Any developments with KB?
Smiling to herself, she slipped it back into her pocket. She’d been after Mikey for a long time, since she saw him give a talk at her uni. She hoped that this would seal the deal. He owed her for this. She had gone above and beyond. She almost felt sorry for Beth, or Kitty, or whatever she was supposed to call her. But then she remembered what she’d done.
The pain she had caused. The evil crime she had committed.
And got away with.
Vicky waited a few minutes to see if the rain abated, but when it became apparent that it was here to stay, she decided to take her chances.
She grabbed her bag and walked the length of the building to the exit, waving at various people on her way, saying goodnight.
As she glanced at Beth’s empty office, she saw the tall woman with dyed auburn hair, from legal, slipping out of the door. Vicky waved, receiving a death stare in return.
She was odd, that one. Vicky shrugged, continuing her exit. She stood in the alley, the drizzle splashing into her face. She blinked, holding her bag above her, making a dash for it.
Footsteps behind her caused her to turn abruptly. Nobody there.
She shook her head and half ran, half walked towards the multi-storey. She climbed the stairs to the top level, and once again found herself battling the elements. As she reached her car, she fumbled for her keys in her bag, dropping them as she pulled them out.
‘Shit,’ she muttered as she crouched down to retrieve them from the puddle they had landed in.
She shook them off, straightening up. The rush of footsteps from behind came too fast. She didn’t have time to react. A sudden shove in the small of her back knocked her off balance. She tumbled forwards, banging her temple on the driver’s side window with a horrendous thud, dropping the keys again.
Before she could regain her composure, a hand grabbed her arm, twisting it painfully behind her. In one lightning-fast manoeuvre she was pinned against her car.
‘What the–’
‘Shut up,’ someone hissed in her ear. ‘I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen, and then you’re going to answer my questions. Got it?’
Vicky recognised the voice. Beth Carter.
‘Get off me you psycho!’
Beth twisted Vicky’s arm higher up her back. A searing pain shot through her shoulder.
‘Don’t push me. I’ve lost my job. My family. I haven’t got anything left to lose. Do you understand?’
Vicky nodded.
‘Tell me about Michael Noakes.’
Vicky laughed.
Beth grabbed Vicky’s hair, screwing it up in her hand.
She winced, letting out a slight whimper.
‘I’m guessing you didn’t go to school with him like he told me?’
‘No. I met him when I was at uni. I wrote my dissertation on the Billy Noakes case, and I interviewed him and his mother a few times. I knew he was… keen to find you. We exchanged details and kept in touch. I studied that case in great detail. Spent hours staring at your face. I knew who you were as soon as I saw you, so I called him but he didn’t seem surprised. I got the impression he already knew. He asked if I could introduce
