Takedown Heather Atkinson (rosie project txt) 📖

grand in cash. It was stuffed through my letterbox in two separate jiffy bags.”

“How did you contact them?”

“They gave me a phone number. All communication was done by text. I never spoke to them again.”

“Do you still have this number?”

“No. I deleted it off my phone.”

Vance patted down his pockets, pulled the phone out of his left trouser pocket and tossed it to Caleb.

“Hey, I need that,” said Patrick.

“You can buy a new one out of your ten grand,” said Faith. “I hope you enjoyed that money because it’s the last decent payday you’re going to get. Why did you betray us?” she exclaimed. “We were paying you a good wage. We would have taken care of you, given you a future but you chose to screw us over. I don’t get it.”

“Because you stuck me behind a bar,” he replied petulantly. “That’s not a future.”

“That was a starting point you idiot,” she retorted. “If you’d shown us loyalty we would have moved you onto bigger and better things but you’ve fucked that up now.”

“No, wait. Please give me another chance.”

“You must be joking,” said Jason.

“You’re done Patrick,” Faith told him. “And here’s your severance pay.” She nodded at Vance, who grabbed the little finger of his right hand and twisted, a snap filling the air.

Patrick threw back his head and howled with pain.

“You don’t work for us anymore,” she said when his screams eventually turned into whimpers. “And in case you ever think of telling anyone about the work you did for us, here’s something for you to think on.”

Vance snapped his ring and middle fingers in rapid succession. Patrick threw up over himself before passing out.

“He is such a girl,” said a disgusted Kevin. “No balls at all.”

“Run him to A&E, will you?” Faith told him and Jason.

“No worries,” said Kevin. He tapped Patrick’s face. “Wakey wakey Sleeping Beauty. Let’s take you to a nice doctor who will sort out your delicate lady’s hand.”

Patrick jolted awake and groaned, shivering with pain.

“You’ll have to teach us that Vance,” said Jason. “You snapped his fingers like they were twigs. Where did you learn that?”

“Prison,” he replied. “It made everyone back off.”

“I’m not surprised. Will you teach me then?”

“Yeah. Want me to use your own fingers as examples?”

“No thanks,” he said, easily taking a limp Patrick’s weight, slinging one of his arms around his shoulders while Kevin struggled on Patrick’s other side, his skinny legs shaking beneath his weight.

“That gave me no pleasure,” sighed Faith when they’d gone.

“He brought it on himself,” said Caleb.

“We need to get that phone to someone who can pull the data off it.”

“I’ve got a friend who can do that but, if these people are professionals, the number will be untraceable.”

“Probably but you never know.”

“They identified Patrick as a weak link,” said Vance. “They’ve been watching us for a while. I bet they’ve even been in the club as customers, checking out the place. We need to completely change all our routines - personal and business.”

“What I want to know is,” said Faith. “Will they be satisfied with that one theft or will they want to take more from us?”

“We need to figure out where Dillon fits in,” said Caleb. “I’ve got the feeling that’s the key to it all.”

Faith recalled what Matthew had told her. “We’re going to The Red Lion.”

“Great,” smiled Caleb.

“Not so you can shag the landlady,” said Faith. “We’re going to speak to those who knew Dillon.”

CHAPTER 9

 

It was one of the busiest times of day for The Red Lion, music playing from a jukebox in the corner, a group of men playing pool, some of the tables occupied by people having whispered conversations while other tables were taken up by drunk, rowdy people just out for a good time. The effect when the three Chambers siblings walked in was the same on them all, drunk and sober alike. All conversation abruptly ended and everyone looked their way. Lil was at her usual spot behind the bar and Caleb winked at her as they walked by.

Everyone watched warily as their eyes skipped across the assembled faces, breathing a collective sigh of relief when they walked up to the four men playing pool, the same men Matthew had interrogated. They ceased playing when they realised they were being watched.

“Problem?” said Warren, keeping a tight grip on his cue. The nervous way his gaze kept bouncing around the three siblings belied the confidence in his voice.

“We want to ask you a few questions,” said Faith. “That’s all.”

“About what?”

Before replying, she looked around the room, which had gone silent. Everyone hastily returned to their conversations when her cold glare settled on them.

Only once the noise level in the pub had returned to normal did Faith reply. “About Dillon.”

“Why do you want to know about him?” he retorted, moustache twitching.

“Because he worked for us and we want to find who killed him.”

“You working for the police now?”

“Say that again,” snarled Caleb, stepping up to him, hands balled into fists.

“Take it easy,” Faith told him. “We’re not here for trouble.” She looked back at Warren. “We just want some information.”

“I’ve told the police everything I know. Why don’t you ask them?”

“Because we’re asking you and we’re not leaving until we get what we came for.”

“Yes you are,” he replied, brandishing his pool cue, as did his friends.

“It doesn’t need to come to this,” she sighed. “We only want to talk.”

“You Chambers have got right up your own arses lately. You think you’re the fucking kings around here but you’re still the same losers you always were. Soon you’ll be back to scrabbling around for bits of cash and drugs, struggling to survive. You’ll…”

Faith