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

Julianna hadn’t planned to relay the details of the evening to Mark but as she fiddled with a piece of paper, she relived some of the conversations, and it turned into a verbatim account.

‘So,’ Mark said. ‘You brought wine when you shouldn’t have bothered, you squirmed because they asked you about your job, and you managed to tell them nothing useful, and Hettie played at being Hettie.’

The spot-on summary grated. ‘Yes. In a nutshell.’

‘You're becoming friends with Hettie, her friends, and it makes you uncomfortable.’

Yes, damn it. Since he’d visited his father, Mark remained sharply focused. She felt like a blunt knife.

‘I'm supposed to put my life on the line for her, and her kids. A year ago, I didn't think anything of it. I never expected it to get that serious.’

‘Until Dublin.’

‘Yes.’ She stared at her shaking hands and rose to stand nearer to him. ‘Now I know it is serious. I beat a man with my bare hands, and it felt good. What does that say about me?’

‘It says you're good at your job and Hettie is lucky. So is Ellen.’ He stroked her arm. ‘I promise to excise your demons, Julianna.’ He laced his fingers through hers.

She would tell him about the dinner invitation in the morning.

  37

Julianna

SUMMER, FRIDAY MORNING

After the rather delightful dinner with Sophia and Luke, Julianna and Sophia ceased using the Haynes couple as intermediaries for organising their flourishing friendship. Julianna's involvement with Opportunitas further solidified the new, and, unlike with Hettie, uncomplicated friendship. By the summer she and Sophia were meeting every Friday, work permitting and they either lunched together or went for a brisk walk to clear their heads. The routine established, Julianna looked forward to her Friday lunchtimes.

On a promising summer’s day she logged out of the office system and went walkabout with her friend in the warm sunshine. The topic of conversation was more serious than usual: Sophia’s pro bono work for Opportunitas. Julianna was impressed by Sophia’s dedication and had offered to help. Via emails and phone calls, Julianna had helped collate the evidence. There were others involved in the investigation, including Graham Saddler, who had assisted Sophia with background checks.

Graham had sent Sophia an email asking for information about one girl she had been interviewing.

‘I went to see her, and she’d vanished,’ said Sophia. ‘The B&B where she was staying said she didn’t come home one day. She’d managed to get a job in a cafe since she stopped working the streets and Graham thinks she’s been enticed back again.’

‘What about her pimp?’ Julianna asked.

‘Can’t prove anything without the evidence. He claims to be her boyfriend. Which he so is not, or else he must have multiple girlfriends. What worries me, is this isn't the first time a girl has gone off radar. She's the fifth in two months.’

Julianna agreed, it was happening too often.

They rounded a corner, down a quiet side street back towards Sophia’s office block; their usual circuit. As they strolled down the pavement chatting, they passed a black BMW; a stretch saloon familiar to chauffeurs like Julianna. The front window was wound down. Inside, the passenger was examining a street map.

‘Ladies, please to help me?’ The young man wore a baseball cap and reflective sunglasses. He smiled and waved at the map. ‘I need to be here.’ He pointed at a spot on the map.

Something wasn't right. She spotted a few niggling things: the car was an older model, but in good condition and it had a satnav. The tattoos along the passenger’s arm were scripted with Cyrillic text. The driver’s seat was empty.

‘No satnav?’ asked Julianna, keeping her distance.

‘Kapput.’ He shrugged. He wasn't a native English speaker. He opened the door and climbed out. ‘Here.’ He gestured again.

Sophia leaned forward. ‘You’re miles from there.’

Julianna reached out to touch her friend, to draw her away from the man. Out of the corner of her eye an arm flew past her and wrapped itself around Julianna’s throat, pulling her backwards. Another coiled itself tight about her body. The masculine arms squeezed hard, expelling the air out of her lungs. The strap in her hand slipped through her fingers and she clung onto it. The handbag was as heavy as a brick and was her only weapon.

Sophia opened her mouth to scream. The man in the baseball cap slapped his hand over it and dragged her towards the car. The map fluttered to the ground.

‘Shut up,’ he snarled.

Julianna's eyes watered; she was asphyxiating. With the consciousness fading, the handbag fell to the ground. She weakened until, like Sophia, she was slammed against the car with her arms pinned behind her back.

Cold metal snapped her wrists together – handcuffs. Sophia's face was squashed against the window, her mouth open, gasping for air. She, too, was handcuffed. With her head spinning, Julianna was bundled backwards into the car and Sophia was catapulted into the seat next to hers. Julianna’s eyes streamed. Her assailants’ faces blurred into a diffuse arrangement of masculine features. She continued to resist, tossing her head from side to side. A rough hand slapped her face, then stretched a strip of duct tape over her mouth. Julianna kicked with her blunted heels. The young man grunted and, in reply, punched her stomach. Winded by the ferocity of his blow, she fought to stay conscious, vaguely aware he was binding her ankles. Once they finished trussing her and Sophia into packages, the men shoved them into the cramped footwells.

Pain, an occasionally useful nemesis, brought Julianna to her senses. Adrenaline, also reliable, pumped harshly into her bloodstream. Fright inveigled her; flight had to win, though. It had taken seconds for them to be snatched off the street. She started to pay attention