The Passenger by Daniel Hurst (ready to read books .TXT) 📗

he just got lucky by falling into bed with a young woman whose mum had a bit of cash saved away. Anybody could have done what he did, but very few people could have concocted the scheme that I have come up with, which is why I feel no guilt about betraying my partner.

I nod at the taxi driver standing beside his car on the rank, and he immediately takes the hint and gets in behind the wheel of his vehicle.

‘The Mermaid and Anchor, please,’ I tell him as I take my seat in the back of the cab and pull the door closed behind me.

As the car pulls out of the train station car park, I take my phone from my jacket pocket to let James know I will be with him shortly. I expect he is there already. He may even be on his second pint by now. But I wouldn’t begrudge him starting without me. He’s earned that drink just as much as I have. From the messages he was sending me while I was on that train, it sounded as if Louise was just as much of a nuisance as Amanda was as we went about our work. But just like her mother, she wasn’t enough to stop us getting what we wanted.

‘Nice night for a pint,’ the taxi driver says as he drives me along the Promenade towards the pub.

‘You’re right,’ I reply, smiling as I look out over the pebble beach and the calm blue waters that make this town so popular with tourists. ‘It certainly is.’

39

AMANDA

There was no answer from Louise’s mobile as I sat in my seat and watched that man walk into the crowd after we arrived at the station, but I wanted to make sure he was gone before I made my own way out. I don’t care about catching him. I just want to get back to the flat and see my daughter. The fact she isn’t picking up her phone is a cause for concern, and now the man has gone, it’s time for me to get back to the flat as quickly as I can.

The taxi driver responsible for getting me back home on this last leg of my journey obviously took the hint that I wasn’t in the mood for conversation when I entered his cab, because he hasn’t said a single word to me since we set off. It’s only a short journey, and I usually walk it, but I don’t have the luxury of taking my time tonight, nor do I have the patience to listen to the driver tell me about how busy he has been today. I just thrust a five-pound note into his hand, told him my address, and ordered him to get me home as quickly as he could.

He probably thinks I’ve had a bad day at the office and if only that were the truth. I remember so many nights coming home from work feeling fed up, frustrated, and even angry with what I had been through in my job, but those times almost seem like the glory days when I look back on them. The sorrow I felt back then certainly pales in comparison to how I feel after today. I’ve not only lost everything I have worked for, and everything I gained after being assaulted in Charles’s apartment, but that ring is out in the world again, and I have no idea what is going to happen with it. Will the men who have stolen it figure out that it is connected to a murder? Will the police catch them, find the ring, and learn that it was my safe that it was stolen from? Will I ultimately end up losing a lot more than just my savings?

In the end, I’m glad this is only a short journey in the taxi because, otherwise, I feel as if my head would explode with all the terrifying possibilities. Instead, the car is already pulling up outside my flat, meaning I now have something else to distract me.

I need to go inside and see if my daughter is safe.

I slam the car door behind me as I run up the path towards the entrance, my heart already racing long before my legs were. Tapping my electronic key fob onto the access panel, I pull the heavy glass doors open and rush to the staircase, taking the steps two at a time on my way up to the third floor.

Once there, I reach my front door and jam the key into the lock, turning it quickly and bursting inside, afraid at what I might find waiting for me on the other side but desperate to see at the same time. Will Louise come running towards me in relief, or will she be lying dead on the carpet with blood running across her lifeless face?

In the end, neither of those outcomes materialise, and I see no sign of my daughter as I step inside and close the door behind me.

‘Louise! Are you okay?’ I yell into my silent home, the stress of the situation threatening to overwhelm me at any moment.

But there’s no response. Oh, my God, they lied to me. They must have hurt her even with the code. But how badly?

‘Mum?’

The sound of her voice from behind my bedroom door is a welcome one, and I rush into the room to see Louise tied to the radiator, looking exhausted but alive.

‘You’re okay!’ I cry as I run towards her and wrap my arms around her slender frame.

‘Get me out of this,’ she tells me, pulling at her restraint, and I waste no time in rushing into the kitchen before returning with the scissors and cutting through the cable tie.

As she gets to her feet, I move in for another hug, and she doesn’t move or say a word as I squeeze her tightly. I’m just so glad to find her alive and well that her silence doesn’t