Run Away With Me : A fast-paced psychological thriller Daniel Hurst (ebook offline reader TXT) 📖

of Laura’s case before taking a seat for a minute while she puts a call through to him. I could have asked for PC McGregor or PC Stone, but this is important news and requires that I speak to the top dog and not his minions.

I hear footsteps approaching me and look up to see Detective Cleevely reach me. He’s a bald-headed man of fifty, wearing a suit that doesn’t fit him and an expression that doesn’t help him. He looks tired. He looks jaded.

He looks just like the kind of person I want running this investigation.

‘Mr Stevenson. Are you okay?’

I stand up and ignore the question because I want to seem like a man with the weight of the world on my shoulders.

‘There’s something I need to tell you,’ I say. ‘It’s about my wife.’

‘Follow me.’

Detective Cleevely turns and walks back the way he came, and I follow him through a set of double doors into a small room very similar to the one I sat in when I first reported that my wife was missing two days ago.

‘Are you going to record this?’ I ask him as I take a seat and glance up at the camera in the corner of the room.

‘That depends. Do I need to?’ he replies, and I wonder if he is waiting to see if I am about to confess to being the person behind the mysterious disappearance of my wife. But I’m not about to say anything of the sort. I am, however, going to tell him who I think is behind it.

I take a deep breath before I begin. I want to seem like this is something I am embarrassed to reveal. It is, in a way, although much of the embarrassment I felt around the matter has since passed and has now been replaced by a burning rage which has fuelled this whole plan into existence.

‘Last year I found something out about my wife,’ I say, looking down and clasping my hands together tightly on the table.

‘What was that?’ the detective asks.

I take a deep breath, and then I go for it.

‘I found out that she was having an affair.’

I make sure not to look up at the man sitting opposite me because I want him to think I am ashamed of my masculinity for not being able to keep my wife satisfied at home. I feel no such thing. In fact, I feel like more of a man than I ever have right now, but he doesn’t need to know that.

‘I see,’ Detective Cleevely replies, but he says nothing else, clearly wanting me to continue.

‘This morning, I noticed that the man she had that affair with is in the news.’

‘He is?’

‘Yes,’ I say, reaching into my jacket pocket for my mobile phone.

I unlock it, and the screen opens onto the news article that I was reading just before I came into the station. Then I turn my phone around and show it to the detective.

‘It seems his wife has reported him missing too.’

30

LAURA

ONE YEAR EARLIER

After-work drinks.

Sometimes fun. Sometimes dull.

But always boozy.

Tonight is no exception. I’m sitting at a table with several of my colleagues, and there is an array of empty glasses in front of us. I’ve been drinking vodka, lime and soda all evening and I think I’m on my fourth one or it could be my fifth. I wasn’t planning on having this many, but this is one of those after-work events that are fun, rather than boring, so I’ve stayed a while this time. But I do really need to get going if I want to get the next train. Otherwise, it will be after eleven by the time I get back, and Adam will be worried.

I’ve texted him several times this evening, so it’s not as if he doesn’t know where I am, but he doesn’t like the idea of me on the train so late at night, and I understand why, even though I always assure him I’ll be fine. It’s because the later it gets, the quieter the trains will be, and he worries that makes it more likely for me to encounter someone who could be dangerous. I often joke with him that the train is far more dangerous at 5 pm with everyone battling to get home than it is at 10 pm when it’s nearly empty, but I get his point. He just wants me to be safe because he cares about me. That’s why I’ll get going after this drink and get home to him.

But I am enjoying myself, and it’s exhilarating to feel the buzz of the alcohol in my bloodstream. I used to feel like this all the time in my twenties when I was a single traveller but not so much now that I’m mid-thirties, employed and married. Back then, hangovers weren’t such a problem, but I suspect tomorrow won’t be particularly pleasant for me. It will be a workday, so I won’t be able to sleep it off either. At least everyone else here tonight will be in the same boat as me.

We’ve all had more than our fair share of drinks.

There’s Alec, the HR Manager with a face almost as red as the glass of wine in his hand, and it’s been getting redder the more he consumes. There’s Christine, the receptionist who is laughing like a banshee and getting even louder with each measure of gin. And there’s Bradley, the marketing manager, who always seems to have a fresh pint of lager in his hands every time I look over at him. But that’s not all I’ve noticed about him throughout this evening.

I’ve also noticed that he keeps looking at me.

Like, all the time.

I must admit I’m flattered that I seem to be attracting the attention of someone like him, mainly because he’s several years younger than me and he’s not exactly hard on the eye. But he’s married and so am I, so I guess that’s why he is just