Remember Me Read online

  ‘Oh. I got the impression that you were just beginning your investigation. Just out of interest, when did Peter and Jackie hire you?’

  Alex frowned, glancing through his phone. ‘A little over two weeks ago. Why?’

  ‘No reason, really.’ As soon as they heard that she was coming back. ‘So, if you are coming to the end of your investigation, have you drawn any conclusions?’ Ava sipped her water, feeling slightly better as it was obvious the interrogation was over, her stomach settling.

  ‘A few. I’ll be staying here for a couple of days, interviewing and tying up loose ends. I can tell from talking to you that we certainly agree on one aspect of the case, possibly the most important.’

  She almost held her breath, but forced herself to take another sip of water, gulping down her fears, ‘Which is?’

  ‘Ellen Smith is dead, and probably has been for a number of years.’

  Chapter 11

  She’s not perfect. Her face is too hard, and she lacks that special quality I require. The best of a bad bunch, as my mum used to say. I watched them all arriving last night, on that stupid great silver coach, the cameras capturing every grimace and giggle. As they filed into the tent I made quick assessments – the way they carried themselves, looks, height and probable fitness. She was at the back, giggling with her boyfriend, her dark hair plaited and hanging down over her shoulder blades.

  It was harder because Ava is back, and I find myself comparing every girl to her, wanting a player whose life is worthy of being saved by Detective Ava Cole. But time is short, and my game has already begun.

  I throw the dice and they spin across my keyboard and land on her photograph. Two and five. Her own place in the game will be limited, but she has a few squares of freedom. Will she fight for more?

  The idea makes my heart beat faster. I imagine her struggling against the drug, fighting me off as she slowly regains consciousness, and the pleasure is intense.

  A quick look online confirms that four people are locked in a bidding war over one of my films. Following my usual routine, I showed a five-second snippet to entice them, and a couple of stills from near the end of the night, and then the bidding commenced.

  I shut down the computer now, and leave my study. I must be quick, because I have an appointment with Alex Jennington, the private investigator. He was so polite and colourless on the phone, that I could tell I would enjoy pitting my wits against his. But what to tell him? Not the truth, but I do need him and Ellen’s stupid parents out of the way.

  They could ruin everything at any point, and I need to clear the way for my players. Perhaps Jesse should take the fall. I’ve always kept that in my back pocket, so to speak, since his death. Everyone knew Jesse and Ellen were an item. I’m quite sure her parents would not like to know they were having sex, or that I have some film hidden away of them doing just that. I could use it if I had to.

  Jesse was an idiot, and he deserved to die. In fact, I think he wanted to. He came whining up from the Smiths’ house, half-drunk, and told me how he needed to come clean before he left. How he couldn’t leave without telling Ellen’s parents the truth, and how it had been playing on his mind for so long. None of us talked about it after Ava left, but Jesse was a drip, and whilst I appreciate the other troubles he went through during his early teens, I managed to get over things, and he should have done too. He had no idea that I also knew about his slightly random relationship with Rhodri as well. I know what happened between them in the wood the night Ellen died, and he knew I was watching. It was unexpectedly exciting, and helped to confuse the players further.

  I steered the conversation to a conclusion, promising to help, agreeing that we should face the others and make them see sense. Blah, blah, blah… I never would have gone along with it, of course, but I figured he’d sober up, see sense and get lost in Scotland with his girl and kid before long. End of story.

  But then he started rambling on about something else that had been bothering him, and before long he was threatening to reveal another element of our childhood. Well, that certainly wasn’t going to happen. Ellen was one thing, and manageable because I had a contingency plan – this was entirely another.

  Before he had got halfway through his rant I knew he needed to die.

  Chapter 12

  When Alex Jennington had finished up, he informed Ava he would be going to interview Paul, Penny and Huw, and thanked her very nicely again for her help. Guiltily, knowing she had been lying through her teeth once again, Ava hauled her kit on and went for another freezing run. Although she had been over the questions about Ellen in her head, trying to remember what she had said to the police all those years ago, she still had a niggling feeling of unease. It was a toxic mix of guilt and frustration.

  Why the hell hadn’t they just come clean years ago? A load of stupid kids playing in the woods. One decision that would last forever. But the longer it went on, the more years that passed, the easier it seemed to just keep quiet. The time to speak up would have been on the night it happened. Ava remembered the bitter arguments that had ensued, and through it all the horror of Ellen’s lifeless body. She could blame Huw for bullying them into keeping quiet, or Paul for threatening her later on, or even Leo for helping to plan Ellen’s ‘disappearance’. But deep in her heart, she knew she should have spoken up, been the one to call the police, the ambulance, gone against her friends.

  Added to this was her hangover, which resolutely refused to disappear. The bracelet sat in the locked suitcase in her room. Her mind and body still felt at odds with each other. Had someone given it to her before she got back from the pub? Maybe she had picked it up somewhere… Where had she been after all that alcohol? The thought of being out of control made her gut clench with fear.

  There was still a jagged tear of nothingness in her memory. There was one last clear picture she forced out. It was of her walking, slightly unsteadily home, tripping on the icy road, steadying herself on someone’s arm. Who had been with her? She had a vague memory of laughing as she reached the door of the B&B, of turning to speak to… Shit, was it Leo?

  Another wave of panic hit her as she jogged slowly down an incline, running shoes thudding dully on the dirt track, limbs still leaden and uncooperative. She was used to being alone, to being an independent woman, and she was always careful. Always street smart, and in control, whether she was at work, or out on the beach with friends. Despite the weakness for liquor, she never lost her edge. Until now…

  The run was slow, almost unsteady, and even another hot shower afterwards didn’t clear the sick, dizzy feeling. She took a pad and pen, and curled up in bed, scribbling a timeline, trying to work out what had happened, the other hand idly tapping out responses to emails as she did so. The mind fog refused to lift, and she cancelled her planned lunch with Penny.

  Penny thought it was just jetlag, but added with a touch of malice, ‘You were drinking a lot last night too, Ava. You should take care of yourself. Go and have a quiet afternoon, and an early night and we’ll see you ready for filming tomorrow.’

  ‘Thanks, Pen. Um… Penny, did anyone walk back with me last night?’ Ava chose her words carefully, licking dry lips and pulling the thick blanket around her.

  She caught the gurgle of laughter in her friend’s voice. ‘Don’t you remember? This is just like the old days. You were a bit drunk and Leo offered to take you back to the Birtleys’. You staggered off arm in arm like a little old married couple. Ava?’

  Ava hit the ‘end call’ button with a vicious thumb. Something had gone on last night, and somebody was playing games with her.

  Leo’s phone went straight to voicemail, but after cursing him she supposed there must be a lot going on with his production team, as they started the filming tomorrow. She left a sharp message, asking him to call her. Bracing herself, she also rang Stephen, hoping that she could speak to him on the pretext of wishing him luck for Tough Love. The phone was switched off.

  Frustrated, she slid out of her cos
y nest on the bed and she unpacked the supplies she had brought from home. Her phone buzzed whilst she was toasting a cinnamon bagel and making a steaming cup of coffee. Of course, she could have gone down to the local shop and stocked up, but the bagels were from Vons and the coffee from Traders – just little reminders of home to keep her grounded. The Birtleys’ accommodation might be lacking a modern touch on the decor, but the room’s essential plastic table of toaster, cutlery, mugs and cafetière were much appreciated.

  She curled back onto her bed and scrolled down through the anonymous text messages. Who the hell was trying to mess with her mind? Rhodri had mentioned at their very first meeting that she had lost her Welsh, or something to that effect. He had seemed pretty narked about it. Could he be playing games?

  Shit. This was getting really fucking stupid. Ava tried calling the number, as she had so many times before, but the phone was switched off. There was no way of tracing the number, although she had tried after that very first message. Whoever was sending these was being very careful. Probably switching off and removing the SIM card as soon as the message had been sent. Each number was different. Burn phones were impossible to trace without resources. Ava had no way of tracking where these had been purchased, checking CCTV or delivery addresses, or any of her usual avenues of inquiry. She was cursing herself for not having looked into it more when she was still at home.

  Ava tried Leo again, but he still wasn’t answering. She now had Penny and Rhodri’s numbers, but she didn’t feel like either of them would be any help. Pen was probably the most likely, but Ava hesitated to confide in her former friend. Penny had enough going on with Paul, without Ava freaking her out with random threats.

  Idly, she pulled up Penny’s website again. It was cleverly done, with a professional gloss that was easy to navigate. Penny herself posed on the homepage with a plate of Welsh cakes in her hands. Clearly Paul’s talents extended to more than just farming. The two of them were so right for one another, as she and Paul had been so toxic.

  She flicked through her emails again, trying to distract herself from her current situation, turning on the light as the early darkness swept through the valley. Her social media accounts bored her, and she didn’t bother to update them half the time anyway. Things must be bad if she was scrolling through Facebook trying to occupy her mind. Distracted, she almost missed it. Her profile picture had changed, from a sunny beach photo with a gang of friends to…

  ‘Fucking hell!’ Ava was shaking. The picture quality was good, even though the light was not. It must have been taken on an iPhone. She lay naked on the Birtleys’ bed, hair fanned out, eyes closed, hips twisted slightly to protect her modesty. Her breathing quickened, heart pounding viciously at her ribcage. Someone had been in her room last night, and they hadn’t just left a gift.

  The privacy settings had been changed on all her social media profiles, and the same vile picture appeared on all of them. Ava closed down all the accounts, quickly snapping screenshots of the profile, checking the recent postings before she did so. Nothing else had been changed, and the pictures had only been posted an hour ago. A few people had commented with a ‘?’ and there were also some salacious comments from strangers. Her inbox had a couple of concerned messages from friends, but that was it.

  Now what? She hugged her arms around her body. She was shivering, violated. There was no question someone had spiked her drink, probably with some kind of Rohypnol, sneaked into her room and photographed her whilst she was unconscious. With Ellen’s bracelet and the text messages, it was pretty obvious that one of her former friends was warning her off. Ava scrolled down her contacts page, thumb lingering over a couple of numbers, deciding against them, frowning with indecision.

  The obvious thing would be to go to the police. A crime had been committed, someone was threatening her. But this would lead to Ellen. There was no way she could go through a police investigation without explaining the history, and the significance of the bracelet. Ava bit her lip, running a shaking hand through her hair. She hadn’t come back to confess the truth about Ellen’s death, but everything seemed to be pushing her towards that particular precipice.

  Alex Jennington rang at about five o’clock to confirm a couple of details. He was staying the night at the B&B, but explained he had another meeting in Cadrington later in the evening and wouldn’t be back until around eleven. He had seemed very interested in Rhodri, and pressed hard on whether Rhodri and Ellen were ever in a relationship, or even if Rhodri ‘had a crush on her but it wasn’t reciprocated’. That was a surprising train of thought, but she had to put it to one side as a flood of text messages came in. Each text had three lines of the familiar wording.

  ‘Cofiwch fi’

  ‘Remember me’

  She tried ringing the number immediately, but the phone was switched off as usual. She sent a text back.

  ‘Fuck off, Leo’

  But the text wasn’t delivered.

  He had walked her back, therefore, she told herself, it was most likely Leo who had spiked her drink. It was a logical, if sickening, assumption. He’d been in here, watched her, photographed her and left her Ellen’s bracelet. Or were all her friends playing the same game? Perhaps, like a well-organised tag team, they had conspired against her from the very beginning. It was a sickening thought, to be up against a gang of people who had once been your friends.

  Finally, as evening dragged into night, she locked her bedroom door, and wedged the table underneath the handle. She was still shaking, and despite herself, she looked again at the photographs. His hands had been on her body, stripping off her oversized T-shirt and socks, arranging her limbs. For what? To warn her off, or just because he could? Remembering the cut on her leg, she leant down and ran a gentle finger across the scab. Had she somehow fought him off, and didn’t remember? Perhaps that was when she cut her leg… It didn’t make sense.

  In one photograph she was on her front, her tattoo clearly visible over her scars. At first she thought it was just another pervy shot of her bum, but the picture was carefully framed around her lower back. Another not-so-subtle message?

  A couple of glasses of whisky later and she was down to the dregs of the bottle. She could just imagine what the locals would say if she popped down to the new Tesco Express in Empire Road tomorrow and filled her basket with bottles. She wished she hadn’t sent the car back now. Perhaps someone would lend her a vehicle. Penny and Paul seemed to have plenty to choose from. She remembered the smooth, floodlit sweep of gravel, edged with a few Land Rovers and other agricultural vehicles from her first visit back to the farm. It was new since she had lived there, and more in keeping with a fancy mansion than a place full of sheep.

  The darkness was oppressive, and the lights in her room were not bright enough. Ava checked the time and began scrolling through her contact list again. She would not sleep and give him another chance to find her vulnerable.

  ‘Hi Mom.’

  ‘Ava! How are you, honey? How are Stephen and Paul?’ Her mom was always full of high energy and non-stop chatter, but she was also pretty smart. ‘Did you manage to talk to Stephen properly yet?’

  ‘Sort of. Yeah, they’re both okay. Stephen is just about speaking to me, and Paul is coping as well as you would expect. It’s… tough. I want to say so much to Stephen, but I don’t want to freak him out. You and Dad all right?’

  ‘Busy with the park. Retirement isn’t really retirement for your dad, is it? Have you been up to Four Winds for a poke around? I heard it was empty. Shame, for such a nice area, that there is nobody to take on a caravan park.’

  ‘I haven’t been up there yet. Mom, did you know Jackie had hired a private investigator to find out what happened to Ellen?’

  She could hear a sharp intake of breath on the line, and imagined her mom fiddling with her blonde curls, the way she did when something bothered her, twisting the ends round and round with thin fingers a bit like Penny did. ‘No, honey, I had no idea. I do know they want to get out o
f Aberdyth, and they wanted to tie up loose ends, but I didn’t realise they’d hired someone. Have you spoken to him?’

  ‘This morning. I can’t add anything else to what was already said, but I hope the Smiths get what they need.’ Ava heard the slight tremor in her own voice and swallowed hard.

  ‘Is anything else bothering you? Apart from the obvious of course. Is Leo filming his TV show at the moment? He was on another magazine cover when I went to the shop this morning – one of those gossip and glitz titles so I didn’t buy it. Must be very strange being that famous, but I always said he was a good-looking boy.’

  ‘Everything is fine. Leo is filming his show as a matter of fact. He’s offered Stephen and his girlfriend a chance to be in it. They start tomorrow, and I’m going to watch.’ She was gabbling, and out of breath. ‘Anyway, I just thought I’d check in, and let you know that everything was fine.’

  ‘Okay, honey, if you say so, but ring anytime if you want a chat. I know this is very difficult for you. Stay strong, Ava. Remember, once this is over, you can get back to LA and your job. To where you belong.’

  ‘I know. Bye, Mom.’

  Ava ran through a few more calls, chatting to friends, listening to a rundown of the night from her work partner, Pete, who had just finished his shift. It killed a couple of hours. She sat up upright, still, propped on pillows, draped in blankets, but at some point she must have dozed off.

  It was just a small noise.

  Her eyes flicked open, cold fingers grasping for her weapon. Ava sat very still. Was that a scraping outside her door? Just a slight footstep maybe, but… She slid off the bed, automatically reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there. The noise came again. A quick scrape, as though someone was using a tool to try and lever the door.

  ‘Who’s out there? Leo?’ she snapped out, furious to find that she was shaking again.