A Chance Encounter Rae Shaw (ebook reader with built in dictionary .txt) 📖

disrupted his supply chain. I had my suspicions.’ Jackson tapped the tips of his fingers together, the lines of his forehead furrowed. ‘But it was the witness that Sophia found and Julianna's investigations that made them concrete. Julianna in particular you should thank. She realised you were directly in danger and came to me for help. I mistakenly assumed it would be Mark who would suffer the consequences.’

‘The needle...’ How close it had come to slipping into her vein. She was supposed to have suffered.

‘Drugs. Something to make you pliable and easy to transport. Eventually heroin so you would become dependent on them.’

Strange things started to make more sense. Freddie had asked her to tell Mark where she was going and he even insisted she spoke to her mother. Both conversations would have left clues to her disappearance. She wasn't supposed to simply vanish. Zustaller wanted Mark to know her awful fate.

Jackson’s face softened. ‘You’re safe now. Both you and Mark have learnt a lesson the hard way.’

She blinked several times, processing too many emerging thoughts, but one in particular filtered through: Freddie had asked a great deal about Mark and Bill, about the appeal and whether it would be a success or not.

‘I... I kept a secret. I shouldn't have done.’

‘What secret?’ Jackson asked.

‘That I knew my father is a murderer. I saw the knives in his coat. I never told anyone.’ She hung her head.

‘But you told Mark before you left,’ Jackson said. ‘I saw the letter you left for Nicky. Julianna brought it to me as it contained the address in Ireland.’

Ellen closed her eyes. She had written some terrible things in that letter to Mark. Her reaction to Mark’s benign response to Freddie's scheming was to accuse him of wilful neglect, of ignoring her self-harming incidents, and that he had aided her father's guilt and pandered to their selfish mother. She had spat words onto the page without considering why she blamed him and not herself.

‘He didn't know about Freddie? Who Freddie is?’

‘No, Ellen. He was beside himself with shock and despair when he found out what was happening. He's learnt his lesson, hasn't he?’

She opened her eyes and nodded. ‘Yes. We both have. What do I do now?’

‘Tell me about yourself.’

Ellen relaxed. Mr Haynes was quite an easy man to talk to. A passive, non-judgemental face, he occasionally prompted her with a question as he encouraged her to open up about her dreams, her aspiration to be an archaeologist. Her hobbies too.

‘You like to run. So do I. Why not go for one or take a walk in the garden?’

‘I don't have any running shoes. They're at Mark's.’

‘I'll chase up getting your things from Mark's.’ Jackson invited her to stay for as long as she needed and said that he could help her find work, something that she would enjoy doing.

Back in the spacious guest room with the view out across the impressive garden, she lay down on the bed, but failed to sleep, her mind buzzing with a strange sense of purpose, and trepidation. A fruitful combination, if she could work out how to utilise it. Jackson Haynes, her mysterious new benefactor was right; she had to keep moving.

~ * ~

The need to pound the ground and jar her bones until they ached was strong. The garden was one part of the extensive estate; beyond a garden wall there was a meadow and more trees. In the evening gloom she ran along the meandering gravel paths, which were laid out presumably for Jackson’s benefit, and embedded with uplighters. Her Converse shoes weren’t the best for running, but at least they were flat and water-proof.

Returning to the house, there was no sign of Jackson Haynes. She entered the sitting room and covered her mouth, muting the cry.

Nicky sprang up from the armchair and bounded over to her. Taking her into his arms he held her close, rocking her gently in his embrace.

‘Okay, kiddo. I’m here,’ he said. ‘This Haynes guy filled me in on what happened to you out there. How you got out. You poor thing, so scary.’ He squeezed her into a delightful hollow of muscular arms and a soft, sweet-smelling fabric. ‘He told me to come and hug you. Well, that's what I said I'd do.’

‘My apartment – I need it back.’

‘It's already been let to somebody else. You know how quickly these places get snapped up. I'm only in mine because Jed had it first.’ He drew her next to him on a sofa.

She bowed her head and fought back the tears. ‘My things are at Mark’s.’

Nicky briefly scowled. ‘This Mr Haynes says he can have your stuff moved and stored here for now. You mustn’t go there because it's too risky. Someone might be watching.’

Freddie? The man with the ponytail who had bound her? She shivered and Nicky draped his firm arm around her shoulder.

‘I could kip on your floor, couldn't I?’

He tutted. ‘Ah, shucks, honey, Ted has moved in. Cool eh? We’re going to find something bigger. There isn’t enough room for the two of us, never mind a guest.’

‘What about me?’ She sniffed. ‘What’s going to happen to me? No job. Nowhere to go.’

Nicky sucked in a breath. ‘I don’t know. I think you can trust this bloke though. His kids are cute. He sent a helicopter to rescue you. Quite impressive, eh?’

He squished her again. His bulk was so unlike anyone else she had ever met. He protected and soothed at the same time, the very combination she had lacked with her online relationship with Freddie, whom she had blindly followed, accepting his advice and foolishly gifting him all manner of attributes he didn’t possess. Had Freddie really patiently cultivated her friendship and trust for over three years? It didn’t make sense –