The Stranger by Mark Ayre (books you need to read TXT) 📗

Eddie bowed his head. Going to her knees, Abbie cupped his chin and forced him to look at her. No way was he lying. She would not allow it.

“Tell me,” she said.

“I was lost in anger,” he said. “I hate Leona for what she’s done. More than anything, I want to see her die. No, I thought more than anything.”

“But upon reexamination,” Abbie said, “you’ve changed your mind?”

“What could mean more to a man than his unborn child?” said Eddie. “If I kill Leona, I will not only be killing her baby but depriving mine of a father. I’ve seen what that does to a kid. I’ll be a dad. I’ll protect my family.”

“What about Leona’s kid? If she decides to have the baby, what then?”

“I have to prioritise Jess and our child. If you’re asking if I’ll try to take in Leona’s kid, I can’t. Danny’s gone. Leona is responsible. This child is hers, so far as I’m concerned.”

Abbie rose. Having hoped Eddie would decide to fight to take the baby in, as it was his flesh and blood, it was impossible not to feel disappointed by his comments. On the other hand, he would no longer try to kill Leona, which was a victory.

“Leona isn’t coming,” said Abbie.

“I realised that. She’s made me look a fool.”

Eddie had made himself look a fool, but Abbie said nothing. She collected and pocketed the ultrasound, adding it to her collection with the sheet of paper from the master bedroom and the scrap from the office.

“We need to leave,” she said. “Go home. Sleep. First thing in the morning, call Francis and arrange a meeting as soon as possible. Once that’s done, call me. I’ll be attending. But you must make sure this meeting is with Francis. It has to be him.”

As Abbie helped Eddie from the carpet, he stared at her.

“I don’t understand.”

“Well, that’s okay.”

“No,” he said, pulling from Abbie. “Francis doesn’t want to see me if I don’t have his money.”

“I know where the money is,” said Abbie and with a hand halted Eddie’s next question. “Tell Francis, by the time you meet, he’ll already have it. It’s time to trust I know what I’m doing. Time to trust that by the time tomorrow’s out, you and Jess, and more people besides, will no longer be living in fear.”

“But what about Francis? Are you sure you know where it is because if Francis doesn’t get his money—”

Abbie put an arm on Eddie’s shoulder and met his eye. She wanted him to see her conviction.

“Ed, I promise you, by the end of tomorrow,” she said, “Francis will have received everything that’s coming to him.”

Twenty-Four

Sunday morning, eight am.

Abbie rose to two texts. The first from Bobby, confirming her suspicions. The second from Eddie. He and Francis were due to meet at one of Francis’ nightclubs at midday.

Midday.

In the years Abbie had been both receiving and acting upon her visions, the final confrontation, during which Abbie would either succeed or fail to save the person seen in her dream, had never happened on day one.

Only two final confrontations had taken place before midday on day two; eighty per cent occurred after sundown.

For this reason, it was harder to save lives in the winter than the summer, when sunset is several hours later. Also because summer clothes tended to leave more room for manoeuvre when battling to the death. And everything is easier when it’s warm.

On 17th January 2021, in Abbie’s part of the world, sunset would take place at 15:52. Abbie hoped, before that point, she would have permanently dealt with Francis and could spend the day’s remainder vigilant but in relative comfort.

If she survived.

There were almost eight hours between now and the sun dropping beneath the horizon. All the time in the world for Francis to kill Eddie, but what seemed like virtually no time at all for Abbie to stop the crook.

Sitting up, Abbie grabbed her phone and replied to Eddie, replied to Bobby, and texted Ben. By the time she returned from the shower, the latter two of these three had texted back.

Bobby was curious; Abbie fobbed him off and felt guilty for doing so. Ben’s text said only 09.30, followed by a location, a car’s make, model and colour, and a seemingly random word: Sparrow. Rather than replying, Abbie deleted the text stream, pocketed her phone, grabbed her drawstring bag, and went out.

09.30. Just over an hour away.

In Abbie’s mind, a plan began to form. After meeting Ben’s man and receiving the delivered package, Abbie would visit the nightclub. It didn’t open until three in the afternoon. She hoped no staff would turn up as early as ten am and that Francis wouldn’t arrive to prepare for his meeting until eleven at the earliest.

Breaking and entering would be easy. In less than fifteen minutes, Abbie could familiarise herself with the building’s layout and plan several strategies based on what she found. The package, collected from Ben, she would conceal within the building, somewhere she could easily reach it when the time was right.

None of this worried her, because it relied only on her. Abbie trusted herself if no one else. Francis could be trusted to act in opposition to her, and for his resistance, Abbie would prepare.

Eddie was the last potentially controllable piece on the board. Someone who could be either asset or obstacle, depending on how he acted in the critical confrontation. If possible, Abbie would ensure he was not there when it went down. Something told her she would not get so lucky.

Last night, before they parted, Abbie should have taken the time to run Eddie through several possible scenarios for the day to come and what would be expected of him in each. Usually, she would have. But she was angry following their discussions surrounding Leona’s pregnancy. Danny was dead. Eddie was the child’s closest family beyond the mother. Abbie had hoped he would