The Hunt for Enigma's Mother: A Lambeth Group Thriller

By Gordon Bickerstaff

In North Carolina, a home invasion goes horribly wrong, and triggers a series of disastrous knock-on events, beginning with the abduction of a five-year-old girl.
Six years later, one of the kidnappers is identified on a routine facial recognition scan at Glasgow Central train station. Relevant authorities are notified, and they race to be the first to capture the fugitive.
Zoe Tampsin's Lambeth Group prepare to make an arrest. Unaware of ruthless forces competing to prevent exposure of a criminal cold case capable of destroying the alliance between Europe and the USA.
The stakes are high. The consequences are unthinkable. The options are vanishing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gordon Bickerstaff
• Release date: Oct 3, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215746448

Gordon Bickerstaff

Gordon Bickerstaff was born and raised in Glasgow but spent his student years in Edinburgh. On summer vacations, he learned plumbing, garden maintenance, and he cut the grass in the Meadows. He learned some biochemistry and taught it for a while before he retired to write fiction. He does some aspects of DIY moderately well and other aspects not so well. He gets very tired when it's time to clean up the mess. He lives with his wife in the west of Scotland where corrupt academics, mystery, murder and intrigue exists mostly in his mind. He is the author of the Gavin Shawlens series of thrillers: Deadly Secrets, Everything To Lose, and The Black Fox. He enjoys walking, 60s & 70s music, reading and travel.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Hunterson City, Hunterson County, NC, USA

FRIDAY MARCH 4th 2016. Two hours after sunset, their Ford Explorer zipped along a tree-lined residential street, then slowed as it approached the end of the road. Quietly, the Explorer entered a spacious cul-de-sac and circled like a predator before it stopped at the target house.

With anger and determination in her voice, Loretta Walsh outlined her plan as she stared at the Moller house. She opened the glove compartment, and passed white ski goggles to Sylvia in the back seat, then handed blue goggles to Hubert. Loretta fitted black goggles over her own eyes. To hide their hair, the women used black beanie hats.

Loretta raised an anxious voice. ‘You’re sure this is the right house?’

Hubert wiped sweat from clammy hands onto his trousers. ‘Of course. Number 1067. I did what you ordered. I checked it out this afternoon. This is the Moller house. No question.’

Hubert examined the anti-glare reflective lenses, then held the goggles to his eyes to look through the windscreen. Shaking his head, he threw the goggles onto the dash. ‘I need to see where I’m going.’

Sylvia leaned forward with a puzzled look on her face. ‘Mom. Are you sure there’s no other way to do this?’

Loretta muttered something before she said, ‘Shut up. I know exactly what I’m doing. Moller has ignored me for too long. Force will bring respect. Respect will make her do what I want.’

She peered again at the house. It sat fifteen metres back from the white mailbox. She pointed at the driveway. ‘Drive me to the house.’

Hubert peered along the drive. ‘I thought—’

‘Shut up! It’s too far to walk. Park beside their cars.’

Loretta opened her bag and fetched a silver Colt Cobra 38 revolver.

Hubert glared at the pistol. Shock strained his face, and concern gripped his voice. ‘What’s this for? You said no trouble.’

Sylvia squealed. ‘Mom. We don’t need that!’

Loretta tucked the revolver inside her jacket. ‘I’m done with excuses. This time, Moller will see that I mean business.’

Hubert reversed six metres, then pulled onto the drive.

He side-glanced at Loretta. ‘What if she won’t do it?’

She bellowed. ‘No-one in this county has the right to refuse me. Keep the engine running. We’ll be out in five minutes.’

Loretta’s day started off as any other. She had full control of her world and everyone within it. It changed four hours ago when she received a call from her attorney, Ariel Goldfern. She had an interest in his current case, and had ordered him to update her on his progress.

In a perverse way, Goldfern savoured the telling of a shocking secret he uncovered, because he knew it would blow her out of the water. It did.

⁑

Sven and Susan Moller relocated to Hunterson City nine years ago to set up home and establish their careers in the medical community. They settled quickly, and made many friends. Senior colleagues at Hunterson City Hospital recommended Hunterhill as a good area for a home. A prosperous suburb on the outskirts of the city, Hunterhill provided homes for many hospital staff.

Four years after they arrived, Susan gave birth to their pride and joy, Francesca. Only the Moller family and four hospital colleagues knew the secret work underpinning Francesca’s special birth.

The Moller’s two-storey modern-style eco-friendly house sat in the centre of a wide cul-de-sac with two similar-shaped houses on either side. The road sloped gently downhill.

In the select cul-de-sac, the five families used the same gardener, and he created well-manicured open lawns with low borders of colourful flowers and ornamental trees. Each house featured a red brick face with white arched windows and porticos.

In the Moller residence, March was the month for annual maintenance. An engineer had already serviced the basement generator. A roofer recently finished repairing a leak over the three-bay garage, then cleaned all the gutters.

Sven organised service appointments for the CCTV security system, air conditioning, the pool, and the lawn irrigation equipment. He didn’t have a single DIY bone in his body, even though he had a well-equipped workbench in his garage, and an immaculate set of tools. His tools were pristine from lack of use. Adjusting the height of the lawnmower blades was as far as Sven ventured into DIY.

As an orthopaedic surgeon, he fixed the consequences of DIY accidents, and preferred to leave maintenance and repairs to professionals. His hands were his precious tools.

On this evening, as always, Susan parked her Mercedes SUV in the garage, and Sven parked his BMW i3 in front of their three-car garage. Each car facing forward, and ready to take off at a moment’s notice if the hospital summoned either of them to deal with an emergency.

In the study, Sven’s hand-crafted rosewood desk sat underneath the only window, so he could look out onto the backyard and the hills beyond. On summer evenings, he loved to watch with awe as thousands of fire-flies danced around the bushes and trees, while the constant echoing tick from a grandfather clock brought peace and repose to the room.

Near his desk sat an old leather couch he used for his studies during his med school days. He rescued it from his father’s house and loved to nap on it after intense periods of concentration.

Susan’s double pedestal desk sat in the centre of a north-facing wall. A book case covered the wall on the left-hand side of her desk. On the other wall hung a dozen portrait photographs of parents and close family, including portraits of Susan, her parents, and her sister, Jocelyn.

Directly above her desk, she displayed his and her college certificates. Four for him and three for her. To make four on her side, Susan displayed a framed copy of Fran’s birth certificate. Francesca didn’t yet know, but it was unique.

Sven’s desk was always permanently cluttered with research papers and medical journals taken from a group of bookcases covering the entire wall on the opposite side of the study from Susan’s desk. As usual, a stack of correspondence in his inbox stood higher than the stack in his outbox.

Susan met her tall, fair-haired, blue-eyed husband at medical school. He could have become a leading man if he had taken to acting instead of medicine.

Susan was a pretty package with silky, straw-coloured hair, full lips, hazel eyes, a cute nose, and a figure to make male hearts race even in a hospital. The camera loved her, and during her college days, she modelled clothes and makeup for magazines.

Near his desk, on a card table, Sven gathered an assortment of humeral bones. He used them as models as he worked on the design of a new type of brace for humeral bone fractures.

Beyond the table, on a heavy base with castors, stood a full-size PVC plastic anatomical skeleton model wearing a dark fedora. A hand-written label attached to the hat band, identified the skeleton as Indiana T. Bones.

On the 24-inch computer screen sitting on his desk, he displayed side-by-side an x-ray of a humerus bone fracture, and an MRI scan of the same damage.

Susan’s gentle steps echoed in the hall as she carried five-year-old Francesca on her hip. Their two-year-old West Highland terrier, Jinxy, followed.

Entering the study, Susan paused at the desk and allowed Francesca to lean forward and kiss her dad goodnight before bedtime.

Francesca wore her pink Frozen pyjamas, and her natural blonde hair hung in the air while they kissed. ‘Good night, Daddy. Don’t let Indiana bite.’

Sven ran a curled finger under her chin. ‘Good night, sweetheart. Don’t forget to dream of the day you score the winning goal for Sweden in the women’s world cup.’

‘I’ll score two goals.’

Sven caught Susan’s eyes, and said, ‘Babe. After you’ve tucked Fran into bed, I’d like you to look at this.’ He tapped the image on the computer screen.

‘Time for bed,’ Francesca called to Jinxy.

Jinxy raced up the stairs ahead of Susan and Fran.

As soon as Susan reached the stairs, Francesca said, ‘Can I have just one?’

The pleading continued until Susan dropped Fran onto her bed.

Jumping up and down, Fran pleaded again. ‘One, pleeeease?’

Susan reached the bedroom door and turned. She raised a finger. ‘Just one. Then off to sleep. Deal?’

‘Deal,’ Fran said, as she jumped off her bed and over to the mini hi-fi sitting on her desk.

Susan folded her arms folded, and glared at a North Carolina FC soccer outfit laid out over an easy chair. ‘How about thanking your mom for your soccer kit, young lady?’

Fran dashed back and hugged her mother. ‘Thank you, Mom.’

‘I expect you to save lots of goals.’

With a head shake, Fran said, ‘Mom, I’ll be the goal scorer, not the goal keeper.’

Susan rested her hand on the door handle, and said, ‘Next week, Dad is taking us to WakeMed Stadium for the game between North Carolina and Chattanooga Red Wolves. Should be a great game.’

‘Can I wear my new outfit?’

Fran hugged her mother once more, then Susan closed the door.

The music blared as Susan returned to the study.

Above them, the sound of singing flowed from Fran’s room. She sang along with a recording. ‘Them bones, them bones, them... dry bones.’

Sven raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Your sister doesn’t know what she started by teaching Fran this song. Those verses will ring in our ears for years to come.’

‘Oh, I think Jocelyn knew exactly what she was doing,’ Susan said with her musical southern accent.

Sven used Indiana Bones to teach Fran the names of the 206 bones in the adult body. Jocelyn made it fun by inventing new funny verses for the Dem Bones song.

Francesca loved Aunt Jocelyn’s way of teaching. Together they sang along, did the dance, pointed at their bones while wiggling and giggling.

‘Is Jocelyn coming over this weekend?’

With disappointment in her voice, Susan said, ‘No. She’s returning to London. This time, she’ll be away for six months. The war in Ukraine is keeping them busy.’

Sven frowned. ‘Thank you, Jocelyn. For putting those lyrics in Fran’s head and leaving us to deal with... dem bones.’

Susan smiled. ‘I’ll let Fran have five more minutes, then I’ll settle her for the night.’

‘Will Jocelyn ever settle and give Fran a cousin?’

Susan rolled her eyes. ‘She loves her work. I’ve failed to introduce her to a man good enough to make her change her mind. Like me, she’s fearful of having children.’

Sounding optimistic, he said, ‘Maybe she’ll change her ideas when Fran gets the all clear.’

Susan nodded to agree. ‘I think she might. She loves kids and they love her. I’m sure she could become a great mom. I hope I can convince her to follow in my footsteps.’

Sven said, ‘Six months overseas. She’ll be away when we have Fran’s results.’

‘No problem. I can post a message on her private account.’

He reached out and squeezed her wrist. ‘You and your team have made fantastic progress.’ He released an appreciative sigh. ‘I’m so proud of what you’ve done for our daughter. It won’t be long until we know the outcome.’

Susan rubbed the base of her neck. ‘I can’t wait. I’ve booked Fran in next week for a full suite of tests. I’ll have the results ten days after.’

‘You said you would wait until after her fifth birthday?’

She shook her head. ‘I’ve changed my mind. I’m bursting to find out if it worked. Two weeks either way will make no difference. We need to know what the future holds for Fran.’

He clasped her hand and said, ‘I don’t care how the tests turn out. She lights my life every single day, and this will never change.’

‘I know. Me too. But, if I’ve failed her, I need to make preparations.’

Susan peered over his shoulder at the computer images. ‘Nasty-looking, high-energy fracture.’

‘Yes. Came in this morning. An unsecured ladder slipped, and when the workman fell, he landed on the ladder edge.’ Sven snapped his fingers. ‘Clean break, but an awkward position.’

She grimaced at the thought.

Using a model humerus on his desk, Sven explained how his new brace will adapt to suit fractures close to the shoulder.

Unexpectedly, the singing and the music in Fran’s room stopped, and Jinxy launched a frenzy of barking at the bedroom door as if desperate to get out.

An unexpected noise in the hall made Susan and Sven turn to face the open door.

Chapter 2

SVEN’S JAW DROPPED as he peered at a trim-bodied woman standing in the doorway like an alien invader from an old B movie. She wore a tight-fitting brightly coloured ski outfit and black ski goggles. In her hand, not a silver ray-gun, but a silver-coloured Colt aimed at Sven. She drew back the hammer.

Sven eased out of his chair. His face paled as he demanded. ‘What the hell are you doing in my home?’

Looking all around, Susan strived to remain calm. She pulled a drawer on her desk, opened a tin box, and lifted a wad of notes. ‘This is all the cash we have. Take it and leave.’

The woman said, ‘You know what I want. You will do it, or you’ll never see your daughter again. Call the poleeece—you’ll never see your daughter again.’

Susan recognised the voice and the distinctive shape of the woman’s lips.

‘Loretta. Are you crazy? What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

Sven raised his arm and pointed at the front of the house. ‘Walsh. Get out, or I will call the police.’

Loretta roared. ‘You will—’

Sven darted forward to close the distance between them.

Loretta raised her pistol a little higher, aiming at his head. ‘No further, Moller. Don’t make me kill you.’

Fear gripped Susan’s heart and strained her breathing. Her eyes darted between Sven and the space in the hall behind Loretta.

Another woman, dressed exactly the same except for white ski goggles, rushed down the stairs and approached the open door. Across her front, she carried a bundle wrapped in a blue blanket, but the dangling feet made it obvious she had Francesca.

Fran bit the hand covering her face, then screamed, ‘Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!’ before the second woman’s hand clamped Fran’s mouth more forcefully.

Fran’s bladder voided, soaking her kidnapper’s outfit.

Loretta said to Susan, ‘Give me back what you stole from me. I’ll return her unharmed.’

Susan shook her head. ‘I’ve told you a dozen times—I can’t do the impossible.’

Loretta stamped on the floor and screamed. ‘Stop lying to me.’

‘Don’t do this, Loretta.’ Susan screeched.

Loretta pointed at the front door. ‘Move!’

Sylvia rushed along the hall with the bundle in her arms.

Susan screamed. ‘Not my baby.’ She dashed through a connecting door to the living room.

Sven fought his instinct to take control. He oozed confidence in life-or-death emergencies. In a close struggle, a revolver can miss its target. Especially in the hands of an unstable woman. The voices of his father and his brother flooded his mind.

So, you let them take her?

A surge of adrenaline pushed him to act. He couldn’t stand still and lose his special daughter to a crazy woman. An opportunity presented. Her attention had shifted along the hall to Susan running after Sylvia. With a hand outstretched to grab the pistol, he dashed forward.

Loretta fired almost point blank at his chest. The force pushed Sven to the floor where he lay on his back, motionless.

Calmly, Loretta stepped into the hall as Susan rushed out of the living room, chasing Sylvia with Francesca in her arms.

Loretta aimed the pistol and fired again.

Susan collapsed, although her momentum carried her toward the threshold of the front door. Time seemed to slow as Susan watched a man spring out of the driver’s seat of a black Ford Explorer parked beside Sven’s BMW.

The man pulled a back door open. Sylvia threw Francesca inside, then climbed in after.

Sylvia pushed Francesca onto the floor and covered her with a grey blanket. Now, she became annoyed with the urine on her outfit. She slapped Francesca’s leg and said, ‘Stay down.’

Hubert closed the door and returned to the driver’s seat. He wasn’t wearing goggles, so Susan focused intensely on his face and recognised him.

He glared back at Susan. The sound of gunfire in the house shocked him. He feared this might happen if Moller refused.

Loretta stepped slowly along the hall and stopped at the door to peer at the blood spreading on the laminate floor beside Susan’s body.

For a moment, she watched Susan’s body twitch. In an angry voice, she said, ‘This is your own damn fault. You should have done what I’ve begged you to do for the past six years. You may be a high and mighty doctor, but you are beneath me. You will do what I say.’

Struggling to hold her consciousness, Susan said, ‘Loretta. Told you... isn’t ... possible.’

‘Make it work. Force your people to do it, or you’ll never see your daughter again.’

‘You don’t... understand. Fran is—’

Loretta hurried to the passenger side of the Explorer.

After she slammed the door shut, Hubert screamed at her. ‘Are you freaking crazy? How can she do anything for you?’

With a crushing gasp, Susan reached out. ‘Fran. My... baby,’ she said before the loss of blood drained her consciousness.

Loretta glanced back at Susan’s body. ‘She’ll live. Move your butt.’

She opened her bag and slipped the smoking revolver inside.

While reversing onto the street, Hubert screeched. ‘You said there wouldn’t be any shooting.’

Loretta shouted. ‘Shut your goddamn trap.’

Seconds later, the Ford Explorer powered away from the neighbourhood. Loretta and Sylvia pulled their ski goggles off.

Two blocks away, Hubert pulled the Explorer over to the kerb and twisted his body to face his daughter in the back seat. ‘Sylvia, dump the girl. This whole idea is finished.’

He faced Loretta and said, ‘It’s over. We’re done here.’

Loretta let out an annoyed groan and rubbed her forehead. She said, ‘Shut the hell up, Hubert. I will make this plan work exactly the way I want.’

Hubert slammed his hands on the steering wheel. ‘Shoot the doctor. The worst thing you could do. You lost it with her—didn’t you?’

Sylvia leaned into the space between Loretta and Hubert. ‘Mom. Daddy’s right. We should leave the little girl here.’

Loretta turned to face Sylvia. ‘You don’t speak. Shut your mouth!’

Hubert pleaded. ‘There’s no point keeping the child. No way will Susan Moller do anything for you now.’ He sighed loudly. ‘She’ll call the cops.’

Sounding unconcerned, she replied, ‘Hunterson cops keep their noses out of my business.’

He shook his head. ‘Not this time. The FBI will swarm all over this case.’

Loretta stared into the distance for a long moment. ‘The FBI will not come near me. They know better.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘Dump this car. Find another before we go home.’

Hubert shook his head. ‘Excuse me. This is a pool car. It belongs to us. My reps use it for the business.’

Loretta dug her elbow into his side and glared at him. ‘Sweet Jesus! I told you to steal a car.’

He slammed his hand on the steering wheel. ‘I’m a jeweller. What do I know about stealing cars? You didn’t tell me you would shoot the damn doctor.’

‘Zip it—you fool.’

Loretta pulled her pistol from her bag and poked his arm with the muzzle. ‘I decide when I’m finished. Move your damn butt. Now.’

She twisted her body to face Sylvia. ‘Keep the brat hidden.’

Hubert pulled away from the kerb as a police cruiser raced along the opposite side of the road with its siren blaring and blue lights flashing.

⁑

Two hours earlier, when Loretta first told him the plan, Hubert worried she hadn’t worked it through, and it would end badly, but he didn’t have the mental strength to stop her. Every day of their twenty-three years of marriage, he did exactly what she told him to do.

He ignored her compulsions and her tantrums, because deep pockets got him everything he wanted. He concentrated on their successful business and enjoyed a well-heeled life surrounded by luxury.

A slack-jawed, laconic-looking man with short brown hair, Hubert spoke softly, and everyone like him as Mr Earnest. They knew Loretta married him because she needed a yes-man with a rubber backbone.

Sylvia was younger than Francesca when she learned to avoid chastisement by obeying her mother without hesitation. All of her life, she witnessed what happened to her dad when he resisted Loretta. She didn’t want to be a victim. Like her dad, she complied, kept the peace, and avoided the pain of physical and mental punishment.

Loretta’s wealth and influence in the county had failed to motivate Susan Moller. The revelation from Goldfern brought red mist, and in a moment of desperation, Loretta decided she should make Susan experience the terror of loss.

She convinced herself she could make Susan snap into line and do exactly what Loretta wanted.

Twenty minutes after leaving the Moller house, Hubert pulled into the sweeping drive of their mansion on a sprawling thirty-acre estate with stables for eight horses, and a quarter-acre natural pond stocked with North American perch.

Loretta stormed inside. Sylvia carried the blanket bundle into the house, hurried up the winding stairs to her bedroom, and gently laid Francesca on the bed.

‘Keep quiet.’

The little girl wiped her tears and sat up.

An African-American woman in a smart maid’s outfit ambled through from the kitchen to the grand reception to ask Loretta if she wanted anything.

Loretta raised her arm like a Nazi salute and shouted, ‘Get out of my sight! Stay downstairs until I call for you in the morning.’

The woman marched off. She’d seen the angry Loretta face many times.

She’ll upset the entire house for days, she thought. She stopped off at the kitchen to warn the cook and other staff that CL (Crazy Loretta) had launched another war dance.

In her bedroom, Sylvia comforted the sobbing girl. While she changed out of her ski suit, Sylvia said, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll take you home real soon.’

Downstairs, Loretta paced her enormous living room as she grimaced and swiped the air as if attacking an imaginary foe. The reality of what she’d done threatened to overwhelm her.

‘What?’ she demanded when she noticed Hubert standing in the room with fear on his face. Waiting for permission to speak.

‘It just came to me. The cop driving the cruiser. He’s a member of my bowling club. I’m sure he recognised me. The neighbours will describe the Explorer. It’s only a matter of time before he comes here.’

Loretta threw her arms in the air. ‘Damn you and your stupid bowling club. Why do you always make things worse for me?’

He bawled. ‘What will we do?’

She stepped forward and slapped him hard enough to make him stumble to the side. ‘Don’t you dare raise your voice to me.’ She drew her hand back in a threatening pose. ‘Do it again, and you’ll wish you were stuck in hell with two broken legs.’

Nursing his jaw, he cowered, stared at the floor, and whispered, ‘Just... tell me what to do.’

Chapter 3

While she considered her next step, she stroked her chin, then pressed her thumb against her upper molars as if pushing them into place.

‘Call Ariel. He’ll keep your cop busy with red tape. I need time to think.’

Hubert sighed as he imagined Ariel Goldfern’s ear-to-ear smile. He opened his wallet to find the number. ‘Ugh! He’ll demand a fortune to fix this one.’

Loretta relaxed, and her confidence returned.

Known as the best attorney money could buy, Goldfern bragged relentlessly about his impressive record of running complex rings around law enforcement.

Hubert remembered she was having a good day until Goldfern called, he asked, ‘What did Ariel tell you this afternoon? It must be bad to send you storming after Susan Moller.’

She pointed her index finger aggressively. ‘You are too stupid to know what she did to me. I pay Goldfern to make hassle go away. He can fix anything when money is no object. Tell him what happened tonight. He’ll know what to do.’

While Hubert made the call, Loretta stepped into the cavernous reception and paused at the bottom of the stairs.

‘Sylvia. Come here, right now.’

‘Mom,’ Sylvia replied as she arrived at the top of the stairs. She had changed into a sweater and jeans. In one hand, she held a black plastic bag containing her ski outfit and goggles.

Using the handrail, she thumped down the steps of a sweeping staircase modelled on the one featured in the movie Gone With the Wind, which Loretta commissioned eight years ago.

Loretta anticipated Goldfern’s advice. ‘Pack a bag for me and you. We’re leaving town for a couple of weeks while Goldfern and his people deal with Moller.’

Sylvia dumped the black bag and hurried up the stairs.

Loretta stormed into the study and knelt at a floor-standing safe, recessed into a wall. She punched in the digital combination, unlocked the door, and pulled it wide.

Hubert followed. ‘Goldfern says get out of town and don’t speak to anyone.’

‘Big surprise, huh?’

‘What will I do?’

Loretta reflected for a heartbeat. ‘High tail it to Canada. They can’t ask questions if we’re not here. Sylvia and I will drive to my friend’s ranch in Cally. We’ll stay there until Ariel confirms he settled things here. I’ll join you in Vancouver after two weeks.’

Peering at his phone, and weaving his body as if unbalanced, he asked, ‘How will we keep in contact?’

Her jaw dropped. ‘Are you trying to be even more stupid than normal? Through Goldfern.’

He clutched his body as if to hold it together. ‘This isn’t the same as the auto accident when you ran a red light and killed a woman and her son. They were trailer trash. No-one bothered. The Moller couple are respected doctors. Goldfern said this fix will cost millions.’

With her chin high, exposing her neck, she snuffled. ‘Goldfern will pay them off. A court case doesn’t help those left behind. Money does. I’m the one suffering here. Moller refused to give me what I want. She’s the one at fault, not me. Ariel knows what she did. He’ll make sure the blame lands at her door.’

Slowly, Hubert agreed. He made six regular sales trips each year to Canada, and knew his way around the provinces. Over the years, he made dozens of business contacts in major Canadian cities, and he was well-liked, because he treated his customers to lavish lunches and dinners.

Sylvia brought a change of clothes and helped her mother to shed her ski clothes.

Loretta packed her outfit into the black bag. ‘Put this in the furnace.’

Sylvia huffed as she carried the bag to the utility rooms at the back of the house.

Sounding confident, Loretta said to Hubert, ‘Goldfern will hook up with Della. They’ll organise an agreeable deal with Moller.’

His expression showed surprise. ‘You mean, Della Bandsman, Chief of Detectives?’

Loretta said, ‘She owes me. In fact, all the zombies in Hunterson PD owe me. Goldfern will use her to sort something out. They’ll find another drug-crazed patsy to fit the bill.’

He agreed with a hand gesture, but thought, not this time. You’ve burned the house down.

Hubert raised his phone. ‘Should I tell Jason to take over the day-to-day running of the business while we are away?’

With harsh sarcasm, she said, ‘Duh. Why else do I employ a general manager? Phone him tonight. Tell him a family emergency cropped up, and we have to leave town to deal with it.’

Loretta grabbed what she wanted from the safe, closed the door, reset the lock, and transferred what she’d taken to a saddle bag.

He approached her timidly and lowered his voice. ‘I’ll need money to support me over the next couple of weeks.’

She straightened, and sneered at him as if he were a street beggar. ‘I’m not giving you cash. Take the junk stock from the warehouse. They smelted a batch of scrap gold this afternoon. Sell it to your wholesaler friend in Toronto.’

After a look of disappointment, concern marked his face. ‘Do you have enough money in reserve? Goldfern said—’

She cut him off. ‘Stop whining. Money is not an issue, but in case you’re right, I’ll boost the reserve account.’

‘What will I do with the Explorer?’

She reflected for a moment. ‘Dump it downtown. The shit part of the city where the gutter trash run their whorehouses. Open the windows and leave the keys. It will disappear faster than the blink of an eye. As far as you are concerned; a junkie stole it yesterday. Do it after we’ve gone.’

He showed her a confused look. ‘How will I get back?’

‘God help me, Hubert. Wake your brain. Call a damn taxi.’

‘What will you do with the Moller girl?’

Loretta rattled off a statement as if she’d rehearsed it for months.

‘Don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t even know what her daughter looks like. Over the years, I’ve invested over forty-three million hard-earned dollars in my hospital. I made it the best equipped medical facility in all of North Carolina. It’s true, Dr Moller and I don’t see eye to eye on certain medical issues, but I’m a deeply religious woman, and with God as my witness, I tell you, I’m as shocked as anyone to hear of the attack on Dr Moller and her husband. They were fine people.’

Hubert listened with his mouth open.

Sylvia hurried back and forth to pack the Hyundai Santa Fe SUV with everything Loretta said she wanted to take with her.

What you see with Loretta Walsh is what you get. A tempestuous, black-haired, hard-headed woman with a square jaw, high cheekbones, haunting eyes, and a jagged mouth. Through an inimitably clipped voice, she spat out orders more forcefully than a drill sergeant major.

⁑

Although turbulent thoughts tortured Hubert’s mind, he didn’t argue with Loretta, attempt to dissuade her from doing what she wanted, or berate her for ruining their life. They fought once, and he had three scars on his body to remind him not to do it again.

Before driving off, she told him again she would head east to California, and meet him in Vancouver to wait for news from Goldfern. Loretta seemed more inconvenienced than anxious about what happened.

While watching the Hyundai Santa Fe move off, Hubert’s anger raced to the surface. He was weak, but not naïve. He expected a tornado to smash his life, and for the first time since he married Loretta, he straightened his spine.

He didn’t buy her idea Hunterson PD could find a drug-crazed patsy to carry the water. Not this time when he and Sylvia were in the frame with her.

He understood how her brain worked. He imagined her calling Goldfern to discuss how they could make him and Sylvia take the wrap for what she did to Moller. In an intensely cynical moment, he imagined Loretta had created the incident to get rid of him and Sylvia.

I’m not doing jail time to cover her stupidity, he thought. In ten seconds, he decided how to protect his future.

⁑

When Loretta approached the Andrew Jackson Highway interchange, she approached the I26 heading east, rather than west.

Sylvia’s head turned when they passed the off ramp. ‘Where are we going?’

‘Not to Cally. That’s for damn sure.’

‘But you told Dad we were going to a ranch out west.’

‘Your dumb-ass father is weak-minded. I don’t trust him to keep his mouth shut. If he does, it’ll be a God-given miracle. I know what’s best.’

Chapter 4

Hunterson City Hospital, North Carolina

JOCELYN FRICKE PULLED into the hospital parking lot at four minutes after two in the morning. She parked beside a black Chevy Suburban, then rushed past slow-moving hospital staff, heading along a corridor to