‘No,’ she snaps.
I nod towards the couch. ‘There’s a box under there, where I’ve been sleeping. Inside, you’ll find two burner phones, your phone, and your SIM card. Don’t take my word for it. Check them yourself. Listen to the messages. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. The plan was simple. Get the ransom from your father, keep you safe here, and Daniel would pay off his debts, pay me, and keep his job. But it all fell apart when you saw my face. If you hadn’t, then I would have taken you back to the industrial site after a few days. That would have been it.’
I exhale.
‘I worked hard on this house. Daniel was about to screw me over, just like that other bastard did. I needed that money. Without it, I wouldn’t have been able to pay maintenance or even my rent. I’d hoped to give Carol the maintenance money I owed her, and perhaps she'd let me see the kids more often. But Daniel ruined that. He blackmailed me.’
She stares at me, wide-eyed, then bends to retrieve the box from under the couch.
I take a long gulp of whisky. ‘When Daniel found out you’d seen me, he said he’d come and explain everything to you. But he never showed. Instead, he sent a hitman to kill us both.’
‘I still think you’re lying,’ she says, although softly.
‘I’m not,’ I reply, my voice low. ‘You’re free to leave. But you should know, I’m not the one who wants you dead. Your husband does. Check your joint bank account. I think you’ll be surprised.’
I stand and lean over the dead man on the floor.
‘I’m checking his pockets.’
Joanna doesn’t move.
I pull out a map of the house and a transcript of an online conversation, likely between the hitman and Daniel. The person arranging the murder has given himself the name Dallyduck.
‘Here,’ I say, handing her the papers. ‘Looks like a chat room transcript. This was when Daniel arranged our murders.’
She’s now clearly in a state of shock.
‘I won’t stop you calling him. Or the police. I’m just asking you to look at those first.’
She places the papers and phones on the coffee table and stares at them for what feels like hours. I watch the dead man, wondering when rigor mortis will set in. At last, she moves. She picks up the papers and the phones, then walks into the kitchen.
I pour myself more whisky and sit down to wait. I hear her crying softly. I don’t know what to do, so I wait a little longer.
Finally, she comes back. Her eyes are red, and her skin is blotchy. She pours herself a whisky. I want to hug her, but I know better.
‘Why did you agree to it?’ she whispers, tears sliding down her face. ‘You knew how much I’d miss my son.’
‘Two reasons,’ I say. ‘I needed the money, and I was afraid that if I didn’t do it, Daniel would hire someone who wouldn’t care what happened to you. He was desperate that night. I figured if anyone was going to watch over you, it had better be me. Believe me, I didn’t want to do it.’
And that’s the truth. The day I kidnapped Joanna was the worst day of my life.
***
Neville. The night of the kidnapping.
The tension in the air is palpable, thick as the sweat clinging to my skin. I sit in the van, my knuckles white against the steering wheel, waiting for her. Joanna Neal. The woman who holds the key to my salvation – or my damnation.
Her husband, that conniving bastard, has created this whole mess. I trusted him once, and now I am paying the price. But I have to keep Joanna safe.
After that meeting in the pub with Daniel, I lay awake for hours. Considering every angle, every desperate possibility. Ways to secure the money without involving Joanna, ways to avoid becoming a kidnapper. But I couldn’t think of anything feasible, and I realised there was no escape. He had me by the bollocks, and I hated him for it.
I don’t just hate him for what he’s done to me, but also for what he’s turned me into.
I glance at my reflection in the rear-view mirror and barely recognise the man staring back. This isn’t the man who hasalways prided himself on his integrity, on delivering quality work. This is someone doing the unthinkable.
I’ve researched her online, read about the Lila case and the trauma she endured trying to save that child’s life. She doesn’t deserve this. That’s when I make my decision, my heart pounding in my chest. I can’t go through with it. I can’t kidnap Joanna and imprison her. Fear should never be a weapon, especially not against someone who has already suffered. I will find another way, and damn the consequences. Because sometimes, even in the darkest moments, a glimmer of humanity lingers.
I don’t see her coming up behind me. I am about to remove the balaclava and drive off when her face appears at the van’s window. The panic in her eyes is something I’d never forget.
