Driven by Fear (The DS Lasser Book 27) Read online

Draper pushed to his feet and turned, Liptrot watched him leave the office and then sighed, that was easier than he had expected he thought as he eased back in the chair.

  12

  Lasser came to a halt as he checked the Mini parked on the drive, the interior was clean and tidy, the seat covers were pink, and he could see a lipstick and a small bottle of perfume in the cup holder.

  Moving to the front of the vehicle, he studied the car searching for signs of damage, finding none he frowned before making his way to the front door.

  Knocking, he stepped back and waited. Receiving no answer, he tried the bell, leaving his finger on the button for a few seconds.

  When he heard the beep of a horn, he turned as a white transit pulled onto the drive, the man behind the wheel looking at him with a frown before climbing out.

  'Can I help you?' Dan Lomax left the van door open and walked forward.

  'I'm looking for Rea Lomax.''

  'I'm Dan Lomax and Rea's my daughter, who are you?'

  Dipping a hand into his pocket, Lasser pulled out his identification and held it out.

  Lomax glanced at it before looking back at Lasser.

  'You say you're her father?' Lasser asked.

  'That's right and I've been trying to contact her for the past couple of hours but she's not answering her phone.'

  'Is that your daughter's car?'

  Lomax glanced over his shoulder before turning back to face Lasser.

  'It is, but she was out with her boyfriend last night, and the car hasn't moved since then.'

  Lasser shifted his feet, the sun shining full into his face. 'Do you have the boyfriend's name?'

  Dan Lomax ran a hand over his short grey hair. 'His name's Mark Draper and he picked Rea up last night, normally she comes home though occasionally she stays over at his house, that's why I've been trying to contact her, normally she will let me know if she decides to stay out for the night.'

  'And she didn't?'

  'Not a word and it's not like my Rea, she's not a thoughtless girl. I've sent texts and left a voicemail but she's not answering.'

  'What about an address for the boyfriend?' Lasser asked, pocketing the ID.

  'Well, I've finished for the day so if you want to follow me, I'll take you there.'

  'I think you need to check in the house before we go dashing off, don't you?'

  Lomax looked confused for a moment and then nodded before hurrying to the door and opening it with the key.

  Lasser hung back as he went along the hallway, checking the lounge on the left before hurrying into the kitchen. Making his way back, Dan Lomax dashed up the stairs, thirty seconds later he was back.

  'She's not here,' he said.

  Lasser looked at the man in front of him, he could see the tension in his eyes and yet there was something else lurking in the depths and it took him a couple of seconds to realise it was anger.

  'I take it you're not keen on your daughter's boyfriend?' he asked.

  Dan Lomax sighed and then shook his head. 'That obvious, is it?'

  'Why do you have a problem with Draper?'

  Lomax thought for a moment before answering. 'I suppose you could call me an overprotective father; Rea was only six when her mother died, I raised her so I guess I can be overbearing at times, but I know for a fact that Mark Draper's not right for her.'

  Lasser thought about pushing the issue, then changed his mind, the important thing was finding Rea Lomax and asking her about the accident on the country road.

  'You haven't really said why you want to talk to my Rea?' Lomax asked.

  Lasser chose his next words carefully. 'There was a hit and run late last night and…'

  'Someone died, I heard it on the news this morning.'

  Lasser nodded. 'A young woman and…'

  'My Rea?' Lomax asked, the blood instantly draining from his face, his eyes suddenly haunted.

  'Highly unlikely,' Lasser paused, 'but can you describe your daughter to me?' he asked.

  'She's about five-six with blond hair and blue eyes,' he whispered in reply, the fear rising.

  'Then I can assure you that it isn't your daughter, but we're fairly sure that Rea was the one who called for an ambulance though when it arrived, there was no sign of her at the scene.'

  Dan's cheeks inflated in relief as he let the sigh out slowly. 'Jesus, you had me worried there.'

  'I'm sorry, but what I can't understand is what your daughter was doing there when her car is on the drive.'

  Lomax tried to think but he was still recovering from the shock of imagining that it was Rea who had been found dead at the side of the road.

  'If your daughter was with Draper last night then perhaps, they came across the victim, Rea put the call in and then they drove away,' Lasser suggested and then pursed his lips, it didn't seem right, didn't seem logical.

  Dan Lomax's face suddenly hardened. 'There is no way my daughter would have driven away with Draper, she would have stayed with the woman until the ambulance arrived,' he insisted.

  Lasser studied the man closely, seeing the utter certainty in his eyes, obviously he knew his daughter better than anyone and according to him she would have done the right thing, she wouldn't have bailed even if this Mark Draper had wanted to.

  Suddenly, a thought flitted through his mind, and he grabbed it before it could vanish into the murky depths.

  What if Draper had been the driver, what if he was responsible for the death of the unknown woman, would Rea really have stayed behind or would Draper have persuaded her to stay in the car, make the call and then drive away?

  Suddenly, he felt the urgency rise. 'OK, you lead the way and I'll follow,' he said, pulling the car keys from his pocket.

  Lomax said nothing, as he stepped out of the house and closed the door before heading to the van.

  Seconds later, Lasser was trailing the transit, his mind still turning over the options, Rea Lomax had made the call – there was little doubt about that – and yet she must have left the scene before the ambulance arrived. If Draper had been the one behind the wheel and had been responsible for the hit and run, then would he really have wanted Rea ringing to report the incident?

  He tried to picture the scene on the moonlit road, the body crushed and broken, Rea making the call, desperately trying to get help, Draper in the car trying to come to terms with what he had done.

  What had his response been once he realised what had taken place? It was obvious that if Draper had been responsible then he had decided to drive away, and Rea must have been with him. Yet according to her father there was no way she would have done that, she would have stayed with the woman and waited for help to arrive.

  Lasser eased down on the gas keeping pace with the van in front.

  Then he pictured the track of trampled grass leading out into the darkness and felt the flutter of unease inside.

  The woman had come across the field, the path through the grass proved that, but what had she been doing there in the first place? Lasser knew the area well, the fields stretched out for at least a couple of miles with nothing in between apart from a couple of farms that eventually led to an old industrial estate, the units boarded up, closed down by the seemingly never-ending recession, the blight of the north.

  As he followed Lomax, his brow creased as he tried to fathom how the victim had ended up being hit by the car, the road had been dark, though she must have seen the headlights as the vehicle approached.

  His eyes widened slightly as he imagined another scenario, the woman in panic mode desperately trying to flag the car down, the driver had been too slow to react and…

  What if someone had been chasing her? The thought flared in his mind, and he checked the mirrors quickly as if he expected to find someone following.

  Suddenly, his imagination sketched a dark shapeless figure in pursuit, the woman becoming more desperate as she tried to get away, then the flash of hope as she saw the lights shining in the darkness, her breathing ragged as she tried t
o run through the long grass, fear spurring her on as she saw the chance to escape.

  Perhaps she had been screaming, Lasser thought for a moment and then shook his head, the nearest road had to be at least a mile away from where she had been killed. If she had been running away from someone then surely, she would have saved what little breath she had left in an effort to get to the road before the car drove by and vanished into the darkness.

  Lasser hunched forward over the wheel as his imagination continued to play the grim scene like some B-movie horror flick.

  If this was true then the terrible irony was that she had made it to the road only for the car to slam into her, sending her into the air before smashing headfirst into the unforgiving surface of the road.

  Lasser slowed down as Lomax indicated and turned left.

  Could that really be what had happened to the woman or was he allowing his mind to run riot?

  Perhaps the track across the field had nothing to do with any of this, it could have been made earlier in the day by a walker and the victim hadn't been running at all, she could have simply been out for a late-night stroll when the car left the road and hit her.

  The van turned right onto an estate of semi-detached houses, newly built, made of cheap bricks, each one had a small canopy above the front door, the type that served no real purpose. Most of the gardens were small, the grass appeared greener than grass had any right to.

  When Lomax slowed down and bumped onto the pavement, Lasser pulled in behind before climbing out into the late morning sunshine.

  'His car's on the drive so he must be in,' Lomax said as he strode across the road and headed along the short drive of number seven, Lasser moving to his shoulder.

  'Listen, I need you to remain calm, it's obvious you're not keen on Draper, but you have to let me do the talking,' Lasser said as he pressed the doorbell.

  'I just want to know where my daughter is,' Lomax replied with a frown.

  Twenty seconds later, there had been no answer and Lasser tried the bell again as Lomax moved his weight from one foot to the other, face etched with concern, eyes laced with simmering anger.

  Taking a step back, Lasser glanced up and saw a flicker of movement at the bedroom window, in the time it took to blink the face had vanished from view.

  'The bugger has to be in,' Lomax growled in frustration, his large hands opening and closing in annoyance.

  'Do you have Draper's number?' Lasser asked.

  Snatching the phone from his pocket, Lomax scrolled through the list of names and then he stabbed at the screen and held the phone to his ear as Lasser turned and glanced at the BMW parked on the drive, the nearside headlight cracked.

  He could hear the phone ringing as he turned and looked back up at the house.

  'Come on, answer the fucking phone,' Lomax hissed.

  Easing past the man, Lasser crouched to his haunches and lifted the flap on the letterbox, the view consisted of a narrow hallway, stairs to the left, and straight ahead he could see into the tiny kitchen, a Dyson hoover standing by the side of the back door, a testament to the limited storage space.

  'Draper, it's the police, open the door, or I'll be forced to gain entry!' he bellowed, his voice blasting down the hallway.

  Lasser waited, holding the flap up, seconds later he saw the figure trudging down the stairs, and he let the flap snap back into place and rose to his feet, making sure he didn't give enough room for Lomax to squeeze in by his side.

  The sound of the lock clicked and then the door opened.

  'Where's my daughter, you bastard?' Lomax demanded.

  Lasser sighed as kept his eyes fixed on Mark Draper's face, he looked to be in his late twenties, sporting designer stubble, his hair shaved at the sides and styled on top, his brown eyes appeared furtive as he licked his lips.

  'Rea?' Draper asked whilst simultaneously plastering a look of confusion onto his face.

  'Yes, cloth ears, I want to know where she is?'

  Lasser felt Lomax press against his back, and he glanced over his shoulder fixing him with a hard stare.

  'Step back, Mr Lomax.'

  'She was with him last night and…'

  'Look, I don't know where Rea is, we went out for a drink, but she left early,' Draper interrupted as he backed off slightly, one hand on the door as if he intended slamming it in their faces should the need arise.

  'What the bloody hell are you talking about?' Lomax demanded.

  Draper looked pained as he pursed his lips. 'She had too much to drink, and we had an argument and she said she was going to get a taxi home.'

  'You sodding liar, my Rea isn't a drunk, she…'

  'I'm sorry, Dan, but that's what happened,' Draper interrupted.

  'What did you argue about?' Lasser questioned, fully aware that Lomax was close to losing the plot big time.

  Draper looked at him before shrugging. 'Truth is she wanted to go to a club, and I didn't fancy it.'

  'You lying bastard!'

  Lasser felt the Lomax lunge against his back, and he braced himself before spinning around and grabbing the irate father by his shoulders and thrusting him back.

  'I want you in the van right now.'

  'No way, my Rea doesn't go bloody clubbing, she's just not like that,' Lomax fired out the words, though he was unable to stop the backward momentum as Lasser continued to manoeuvre him along the driveway.

  'Not interested, I told you to let me do the talking, now get into the van and let me sort this,' Lasser hissed in the man's face.

  Lomax continued to fume and then he clocked the dark look of determination in Lasser's eyes, and he held up his hands.

  'OK, OK, but you make sure you get the truth out of that bastard because I know he's bullshitting about my daughter.'

  Lasser nodded. 'Just wait in the van and I promise to get to the bottom of this.'

  For a couple of seconds, Lomax glared at Draper over Lasser's shoulder and then he spun away and stormed across the road to the transit.

  Lasser waited until he was behind the wheel before turning and walking back to Draper who remained in the doorway, his face etched with uncertainty.

  'Now, are we going to sort this inside or do it here on the doorstep?'

  Draper thought for a moment before answering. 'I have no idea what's going on here or where Rea is, but I'm telling the truth, and if her old man thinks differently then he doesn't know her as well as he thinks he does.'

  Lasser tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. 'Tell me, Mr Draper, how did you damage the headlight on your car?'

  He watched as the colour drained from Draper's face.

  'Damage?' he asked and then hurriedly licked his lips again.

  Lasser treated Draper to the 'stare'. 'We can sort this here or down at the station, it's up to you, but I have questions and you are going to provide answers whether you like it or not,' Lasser warned.

  Draper seemed to shrink in the doorway and then he stepped back.

  'You'd better come in,' he murmured.

  'Wise choice,' Lasser said in a flat voice as he stepped forward.

  13

  The man sat at the battered table, the top scarred and pitted with woodworm, the contents of the bag spread out across the surface, phone, perfume, lipstick, tampon, and a purse containing twenty pounds in cash and a couple of credit cards.

  'Rea Lomax,' he spoke the name aloud as he studied the driving licence.

  Picking up the perfume, he squirted a blast into the air and then sniffed deeply.

  'Not too bad,' he said appreciatively.

  Then he picked up the phone testing the weight in his hand before smashing it onto the table, the screen shattering on impact, small pieces of plastic flying into the air.

  Rising to his feet, he looked around the room, the kitchen had seen better days, then again it didn't really matter because he never cooked in here, it was the same with the rest of the house, the rooms were bare, the old oak beams smothered with cobwebs, the floorboards cove
red with dust.

  There had been times in the past when he had considered having the house renovated. It didn't look much now but with the right care and attention it could be turned into a liveable space. Though he had always resisted the temptation and now he knew why. It offered the perfect place to pursue his hobby, the house was set deep in private woodland and originally it had been the gamekeeper's cottage, though all that was now nothing but a distant memory. He had been a boy the last time the house had been occupied and even then, it had seemed somehow forlorn. Moving to the door, he looked out over the overgrown garden, he had seen pictures of the place when it had been full of colourful blooms, over to the left there had been a large vegetable plot, black and white images of men standing in their collarless white shirts, their faces stern as if smiling was an alien concept to them, surrounded by cabbages, carrots and of all thing turnips, grown mainly for the shire horses that used to plough the farm that was attached to the big house.

  He watched a bee drone by and then he leaned against the doorframe enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face, his bare arms folded.

  Closing his eyes, he thought about the night before and the way things had changed so rapidly. When he had heard the scream in the darkness he had backtracked, amazed to find the woman standing by Julie Emmeret's broken body. She had been so wrapped up in her own world of horror that she had been unaware of his presence as he clubbed her from behind and hoisted her over his shoulder.

  Thankfully, she hadn't been carrying any excess weight, yet after walking across the field he had started to tire and so he had put the call in, before easing the woman to the ground and sitting down by her side. Twenty minutes later, the car had pulled up on the dirt track and he had climbed into the passenger seat, leaving the driver to retrieve the woman from the ground and lay her across the back seats.

  Now, he stifled a yawn before stepping out of the house and sitting down on the rocking chair at the side of the door, hands resting on the arms. Yawning into the sunshine, he closed his eyes, listening to the occasional bird song and the bees buzzing, somewhere deep within the forest he was convinced he could hear the faint sound of screaming.