Deadly Obsession Page 20

  ‘I have to ask you a question, Amy,’ said Grant.

  ‘Fire away ...’ said Amy, glad of the momentary distraction.

  ‘I was mentioned in that letter. You let slip that Riley listed me as a suspect. You know there was no love lost between us and yet we’re sitting here in a hotel sharing a bottle of wine, having dinner and you’re telling me your suspicions about his potential killer. Does that not strike you as more than a bloody bit odd?’

  ‘Shouldn't I trust you, then?’ It was a genuine question.

  ‘You know you can trust me. I wouldn’t be following you up here to Manchester if you couldn’t, would I? For what it’s worth, I think Riley is dead. I think you’re much better off without him too as the fact that he lied constantly to you when he was alive is despicable. But I understand that you loved him ... still do. If you can forgive him for his lies about his job and his indiscretions then who am I to judge him? I just hope you find peace in all this, whatever the outcome. But I can’t see this having a happy ending, can you?’ Grant's words were bluntly matter of fact but still carried an air of compassion.

  ‘I may be naive, but even I’m not stupid enough to think that this particular story can have a happy ever after. Even if Riley is alive, and of course I hope he is, I don’t think I can forgive him for what he’s putting me through. And as for you ... Well, I’m kind of hoping that my judgement in trusting you is a wise one. Like you say, you don’t have any real reason to be here with me. You’ve had your film meeting in the hope of being the next Channing Tatum and you could disappear any time you like. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that having you here is making things slightly more bearable.’

  ‘Actually, about that...’

  Amy could tell that Grant was on the verge of some kind of admission. She could feel an all-too-familiar stone of disappointment fall into the pit of her stomach. ‘Go on ...’

  ‘The meeting wasn’t the only reason I came to Manchester. I needed to see someone else, someone involved with Riley’s letter.’

  The stone in Amy’s stomach seemed to instantly grow into a boulder as Grant continued.

  ‘I came to see Genevieve Peters. I’ve known her quite a long time. We were ... er ... involved, once. Not any more though. There wasn’t any real commitment, we were just mutually incompatible, shall we say? We ...’

  ‘You were sleeping together.’ Amy cut him short, straight to the point. ‘And that affects me how, exactly?’ Amy didn’t want to admit that an unexpected and not altogether welcome pang of jealousy had fired through her as she said it. A momentary suggestive flash of what Grant would be like between the sheets flickered across her mind. She rapidly tried to push it away.

  ‘Yes, I’m no angel. She’s a good-looking woman, I’m a typical man ...’

  ‘You don’t have to explain yourself to anyone, least of all me, Grant. You can sleep with who you like.’ There was an uncharacteristic harshness in Amy’s voice, perhaps betraying her disappointment. ‘So, did you see her ...?’

  ‘Yes, and that’s why I figure there’s something you ought to know. She was drunk and had been crying.’

  ‘Ice maiden Genevieve. There's a turn-up for the books ...’ Amy was monotone in her delivery. ‘I didn’t think she had any form of emotion or weakness in her.’

  ‘Yeah, well I think someone has defrosted her heart at some point in the past.' He faltered for a moment. 'That’s what I need to tell you about.’

  Amy sat in silence waiting for Grant to continue. He did.

  ‘Genevieve likes to drink, she did even back when I was with her. I think it all stems from her mum, as she liked to hit the bottle when Genevieve was younger.’

  ‘So?’ Amy was trying not to sound harsh and uncaring. And failing badly.

  ‘When I went to Eruption I found Genevieve in the back of the shop, in her office.’

  ‘I know it,’ stated Amy, recalling her catch-up with the boutique owner in the very same room.

  ‘She became a bit lairy when she saw me and to cut a long story short, tried to throw a glass at me which smashed everywhere and she passed out.’

  Amy just raised her eyebrows, her lack of emotion showing once more. ‘And …?’

  ‘I checked she was okay and decided to leave but before I did I went to clear up the glass all over the floor. I went to put it in the bin but when I did I found a framed photo in there. It had obviously been thrown in, as it was cracked.’

  With a sense of dread, Amy knew she had to ask. ‘Of what?’

  ‘Genevieve and Riley. Together.’

  ‘So what?’

  Amy tried to explain that it could have been innocent, since Genevieve and Riley knew each other from the Kitty Kat, but she could tell that Grant thought there was much more to their relationship than a passing acquaintance. In her heart, where the ball of angst from her stomach had now migrated, spreading yet more despair, Amy knew that there was too.

  But she needed a second opinion. Needed to hear someone else say it out loud.

  ‘What, you think they were having an affair?’ After the revelation about Lily and Riley sleeping together, the idea didn't seem so unlikely.

  Grant was stony-faced as he answered. ‘Judging from the photo, I’m certain of it.’

  40

  Now, 2015

  * * *

  Lily’s night out was heading from depressing to beyond cataclysmic. Even in her blurred state of mind as she stumbled her way across the beer-soaked dance floor of The Black Hart, she knew that her life was definitely suffering from what even the most upbeat of people would call a downward slump.

  How had it come to this? It didn’t seem that long ago that she was the one at the shining musical heartbeat of Manchester’s most talked-about scene. The girl who could turn up the volume all over town. Back in the Kitty Kat days she was one of the key figures organising who came in, who got smashed, how people looked, how head-fucked they wanted to be. She was even experiencing some of the best sex ever thanks to her affair with Riley. She was in control.

  But now ..? Bouncing drunkenly into the leather clad, patchouli-smelling clients of The Black Hart, one of Manchester’s lower than low-rent dives, Lily was beginning to question where it had all gone wrong. And the excess of drugs and drink she’d taken throughout the evening was not aiding her thought process.

  Lily had been doing a lot of thinking about Riley. Of all the men she’d ever been to bed with, it was Riley who had really managed to worm his way underneath her skin and burrow his way into her heart. She’d loved him. She could pretend all she liked that it had been just a meaningless shag fest but it hadn’t. Not to her anyway. There was so much more to it than sex. It was only now that she could see that.

  So why had he dumped her? It had to be because of that stupid wife of his, surely? She liked Amy as a boss at the club, she even liked her as a person, if she was honest. Totally harmless, completely naive, she was everything that Lily considered herself not to be, but as a love rival – that was something else, a whole different ball game. No, Riley had broken her heart into a million jagged edged scraps and even though Lily had spent months thinking that she could handle it, she was beginning to realise that now she couldn’t. The fucker had turned her world upside down. She could have killed him herself when he tossed her aside. It was a moment that Lily Rich would never forget.

  * * *

  There was something feral about sex with Riley Hart. Almost as if it was extra deliciously dirty because it was behind his wife’s back, escaping the confines of his everyday union with Amy.

  That was half the attraction for Lily. She liked the danger of it. The animalistic nature of it. Sex with Riley was hard, urgent, forceful and powerful. He was a big man, the complete opposite of Lily’s petite frame.

  Riley would carry her around, lifting her into the air, her legs wrapped either side of him as he ploughed his cock into her. He would grab her hair and bend her ninety degrees over his desk, or a chair or the DJ booth if he found her a
lone at the club, yanking her knickers to one side before slamming his rod into her. Often he would force her to her knees and make her hold her hands behind her back, face-fucking her with his dick until she swallowed his seed.

  And Lily loved every downright dirty moment of it. Lily had never been a ‘love me tender’ kind of girl, she liked to please a man, whether she was giving or she was taking. She loved what he made her do, loved how it made her feel, and she had started to love Riley himself.

  But Riley had obviously become bored by it. One day at the club as she had tried to blow him in his office, Riley’s cock had wilted at her touch, his lack of interest limply evident.

  It had never happened to Lily before and she needed to know why it had occurred.

  ‘Not in the mood, then?’ Her tone was jocular but she was far from joking.

  ‘Look Lily, you’re a great girl …’ It was clear to Lily straight away where the conversation was going.

  She stood up as Riley spoke. He did his trousers back up.

  ‘But?’ she asked. There was always a but.

  ‘I’m a married man.’

  ‘You were married when you first stuck your cock in my pussy.’

  Riley, never one to mince his words or waste any more time on something he didn’t deem important than need be, finished the conversation.

  ‘It was good while it lasted Lily, but it’s over. I don’t think we should do this anymore.’

  ‘Why not? I thought we got on really well. Knew where we’re coming from?’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘That you and I are alike. Both free-spirited, strong, fierce people, who like to shag like rabbits.’

  ‘But it was just a bit of fun, Lily. Nothing more.’

  It was the first comment that had really stung Lily. ‘A bit of fun? Is that all I am to you?’

  ‘Well, it’s not like you’re falling for me, is it? I’m with Amy. She’s my wife. This is just ...’ Riley struggled to complete the sentence. ‘… well, this.’

  Lily, normally so strong, could feel the quivering of tears growing inside her.

  ‘And if I was falling for you?’

  His answer was quick, clear and destructive. ‘Then I’d say fuck off, we’re never going to be together, are we?’

  Suddenly it was clear to Lily. The reason why their sex was so brutal, lacking in pillow talk or sweet nothings. Because there was nothing behind it. She was merely a receptacle for his sexual relief. Their relationship had been nothing but a vacuum of lust. How had she been stupid enough to think otherwise?

  She wouldn’t let him see that she was hurt. Forcing her voice to be as upbeat as possible she stared Riley right in the eye. ‘Be together? No fucking way. You’re right, it was good, but enough is enough, eh? No more tears.’ She was quoting one of her mum’s favourite songs. ‘Right, I’ll crack on. I’ve got some shit to sort out in the cloakroom. If you ever change your mind about …’ She pointed to Riley’s groin. ‘Then, just let me know. We’re sexually good, you and I.’

  ‘I won’t change my mind.’ His words could not have been more dismissive.

  ‘Laters.’ It was all Lily could say before quitting Riley’s office. She walked straight past the Kitty Kat Club’s cloakroom and into the ladies toilet. She walked into a cubicle and shut the door behind her. Sitting on the toilet, she started to cry. Her heart broken.

  No more tears? What a crock.

  * * *

  Lily thought that she had managed to rid any feelings she had for Riley from her heart. That all of her emotions were long gone. So what had changed? It was simple. All of a sudden there was a chance that maybe Riley was alive. If Amy thought so then why shouldn’t she? Stranger things had happened in the murky world Riley had frequented. She’d spent years hearing snippets of people disappearing, being erased, moved elsewhere for their own good through her father’s work. She’d not really paid any interest to the hows, whys and wherefores. But maybe something like that had happened to Riley? Maybe one of his jobs had plunged him deeper into some dangerous gangland-infested waters and he had to scarper before it was too late. Stage his own death maybe. Yeah, she wouldn’t put that past him. He was always a cunning sod.

  But if he didn’t die then who had their face shot off in The Kitty Kat? In all the melee of that evening maybe bodies were swapped? Without a face, one suited, muscled chunk of bloke could look pretty much like another. The criminal world was always full of cover-ups and backhanders. Yeah, it could happen, Lily decided, as if willing it to be true.

  She tried to steady herself against the wall of the pub as the drugs rushed through her again. It felt clammy against her skin. Why had she come here? It had never been near the top of her list when it came to dealing drugs and it was the kind of bar where someone puking up their gut lining in the corner would improve the look of the place. It was the complete opposite of everything she’d loved about The Kitty Kat. Her father would die if he could see Lily now, peddling shit in some Manchester backstreet crap hole. Especially given the fact that Lily was more off her head than most of the scraggy, hairy-faced blokes and tattooed, scrawny-arsed women surrounding her. She needed to get out, to escape.

  But it wasn’t just The Black Hart she needed to escape, she needed to put all of this shit behind her. She was taking more drugs than ever before. But they were necessary. She needed them to cope. That’s what she told herself. She’d put them all behind her one day. She needed a springboard to another life. One with a man she could love and persuade to love her back. Maybe that way she could love herself a bit more too. And maybe, just maybe, that man could still be Riley ...

  Despite the cocktail of booze and narcotics clouding her mind as Lily carelessly zigzagged her way towards the exit of The Black Hart, she had already decided that it was high time to try and meet up with Amy again. She’d know more about the truth behind’s Riley’s ‘death’ than anyone. If there was information to share, then Amy Hart would have it. She looked at the sign above the bar with the name of the pub on it. The Black Hart. She giggled to herself ... The Black Hart ... Amy Hart ... Riley Hart ... she’d never really thought about it before. All these fucking hearts and here she was with a broken one. But she’d soon sort that.

  Before leaving she headed off to the toilets for another thick white line of cocaine. One for the road.

  41

  Now, 2015

  * * *

  Amy needed time out. She was more scared than she'd ever been in her life. More scared than she could ever imagine being again. Scared of the future and what it might hold.

  Having woken up in a blind panic in her hotel bed that morning after experiencing the most lucid of nightmares, Amy definitely needed to take a step back. Even in her sleep, her brain was awash with images of Laura dying in her arms, Riley’s exploded face and a whirlwind of maniacal grins all boring into her. Genevieve, Grant, Adam, Tommy, Jemima, Winston, Lily ... they were all there. She’d woken up bolt upright, a waterfall of sweat staining the sheets beneath her.

  All she’d thought about lately were the what-ifs of that night at The Kitty Kat. Would she ever find peace? There were times when she questioned just why she was chasing the truth. The police had let the entire episode slip through their fingers. Where were the dental records? Why hadn’t she looked for a distinguishing mark, something that would have convinced her above everything that the body in front of her at the mortuary was Riley’s? Then all of this doubt she now felt would be clarified. Riley was dead, end of. If she could bring his killer to justice then great. But the cop in charge had moved ‘overnight’. Everything had been conveniently hushed-up. Tommy had said as much. If the boys in blue had chosen not to know, then did she really want to?

  Riley’s letter had brought nothing but extra torture into her life. His affairs with Lily and Genevieve, his duplicity about his job, his allowing Tommy and Jemima to take everything that should so rightly be hers had all done nothing but cause her pain.

  Where would it all end? For
her own sanity, Amy needed to stop. Just for a while. To stop chasing. Stop risking the chance of unearthing yet another body blow from beyond the grave.

  Staring out of the window of her Manchester hotel room she looked at the winter’s sky. It was full of dark snow clouds, a contrast to the crisp, blue air of the day before. As she watched, a light dusting of snowflakes began to tumble Earthwards from the clouds.

  Growing up, Amy had been taught that the clouds were the edge of heaven where the angels sat, looking down to Earth making sure that all of those people they cared about were healthy and well. Her mum and dad had been religious people who had instilled in her the values of being good in life in order to gain entry through the Pearly Gates and into heaven.

  Back then she had believed it. Do unto others as you would have done unto yourself and come the day of reckoning then eternal joy would be yours. Amy could feel a pinprick of tears starting to form in the corners of her eyes as she thought about it.

  What would her parents have thought about all this now? Riley’s criminal connections and his infidelity? They’d never have believed it. Not of the man their daughter had fallen in love with. Was there still a miniscule corner of her soul that could still love Riley after everything that had occurred? Amy wasn’t sure that any love within her would be able to survive in the quagmire of blackness painting her inner emotions.

  Before she could control it, the tears started to fall. Deep, desperate sobs forced themselves from her throat. Days of pent-up emotion flowed from her body. Sinking to her knees, Amy let her body succumb to the emotion, allowing her entire being to surrender to her apparent weakness. She needed to cry, to let the tears of her own misery wash over her. She placed her hands across her face and felt the rivulets of moisture run between her fingers and drip down onto her bare legs. She cried, on and on until no more tears cascaded forth.