Those We Know (DI Olivia Austin Book 4) Page 5

  Olivia crept up to the window, doing her best to remain unseen. Her heart thudded in her ears, surrounding her hearing with the echo of her pulse.

  She peered over the edge of the window, looking into a normal-appearing kitchen.

  Joel was in the process of removing his jacket, his back to her. That was good.

  Now all she needed was some sign of duress, something actionable.

  All she wanted to do was leap forward and apprehend him. Every fibre of her being screamed at her to do so, and resisting the urge took every ounce of her self-control.

  Inside the house, Joel grabbed a beer from the fridge, lazily letting the door swing shut once he was done. One thing was certain: he hadn't just rushed to the hospital to be with his brother. If only that lie alone was enough to charge the house.

  Olivia studied the area; it didn’t appear as though anyone else could be there besides Turner. There was only the one car, and they had stayed close enough to know he hadn’t picked anyone up on his way to the lonely building.

  He turned to face the window, and before Olivia ducked down, she saw it sprawled across his face: ease. Whatever he was up to, he wasn't in any rush. Concern flared in her chest for a moment; shouldn’t he be worried that they were about to find this place?

  As she ducked below the window, she noticed PC Patel staring at her, the faint pool of light from the cottage etching evident concern into his face.

  "What?" Olivia mouthed, studying the officer.

  It was hard to tell in the relative darkness, but he looked as if all the colour had drained from his face.

  "The fridge," he whispered, rocking his head back to rest on the side of the house as he let his eyes shut. His chest heaved with quick, shallow breaths, punctuating the silence. "Bloody... bloody containers. In the fridge."

  That was enough probable cause for Olivia. She was done waiting while the bastard lazed about, sipping his beer.

  She sprang to action, silently charging the door. Unlocked. Perfect.

  She raced into the kitchen, a sick pleasure warming her cheeks at the sight of Joel caught completely off guard. He was utterly gob smacked, the fool.

  "Joel Turner, you are under arrest," she declared, reaching back for Raj’s handcuffs.

  But before she could get hold of them, Joel did something that Olivia in all honesty should have seen coming.

  He ran.

  "Shit," she swore as the officer bolted, taking off down a hallway.

  “Constable Turner, freeze!" Olivia knew it was useless even as she called it out. The murderer raced away, toppling whatever he could find to block her path.

  Her legs felt as if they moved of their own accord, propelling her further, faster. She was certain that there must have been noise all around, but all she could find herself focusing on was the fleeing officer.

  I won’t let you get away, she repeated in her head, a mantra that kept her legs moving, quickly dodging any obstruction in her path.

  He ducked down a hallway. An instant later, the only light surrounding her as she followed went off, plunging Olivia’s world into darkness. Only the glow of the moon through a lone window illuminated her path; it wasn’t nearly enough.

  "You're not going to get away, Joel. There's nowhere to run to,” Olivia declared, feeling for anything to move forward. Why hadn't she grabbed her torch from the car?

  Her fingers found purchase in the side of a wall, and she clutched onto it like a lifeline, pulling her body closer so she could creep along.

  It was hard to hear anything over the sound of her own breathing. Her lungs pushed air out quickly, forcefully, though she did her best to quiet it.

  “Where’s Diana, Joel?” Olivia called out, knowing that she was too loud to take a stealthy approach to capturing the officer. Perhaps she could distract him, though, or lure him out of his shell.

  No response.

  She crept forward, the fingers of one hand tracing the wall while the other hand braced outwards to prevent running into anything. Fear rose to the tips of her ears, threatening to overwhelm her. Here she was, facing off against the shadow that had hunted her the night before. His promise rung in her ears: I don’t have time today. But don’t worry. I’ll come for you again.

  “This doesn’t have to end poorly, Joel,” Olivia continued, swallowing her fear before it consumed her. “We can talk about it.”

  Without warning, a large figure lunged at her, tackling her to the ground. She gasped, the floorboards shoving what air she had left in her lungs from her body. Her head reeled as it slammed to the ground. Doctor won’t be happy about that, she thought to herself cheekily even as her vision tinged red with pain.

  With a scream, Olivia kicked her legs out, fighting for any purchase against the dark figure. She felt a collision and heard a grunt, but Joel still towered above her. She prepared for another blow, steeling herself despite the pain that jostled through her body like a pinball in an arcade game.

  Instead, she felt the wind move by her cheek as another figure blasted past her, pressing into their assailant. His torch swung wildly, adding a dizzying illumination to the room. PC Patel. She had been so caught up in barging into the house that she had completely neglected to consider her backup.

  She took the opportunity to swipe her foot under the figure’s ankles, pulling in tandem with her colleague’s volley to bring him down. Joel grunted, Olivia’s leg bringing him to his knees. Constable Patel acted quickly, shoving PC Turner’s broad shoulders to the ground, using his knee to pin him.

  With deft movement, her colleague whipped out his handcuffs and immediately shackled their adversary.

  “We got you, you son of a bitch,” Olivia spat. She pressed herself up to her feet, the world washing into a frightening spin as she did so. Throwing out a hand to prop herself against a wall, she did her best to press on, ignoring the fact that her head screamed at her. “Now. where’s Diana?”

  Joel simply laughed on the floor, spitting before closing his mouth once more. He was certainly one for theatrics. Olivia grabbed PC Patel’s torch which had fallen to the side and shone it directly into the disgraced Officer’s eyes, temporarily blinding him.

  “I asked you a question!” she growled. Pain and rage swirled in the depths of her stomach, churning up a side of her she rarely saw. She wanted nothing more than to beat this man, pummel him until he had no choice but to reveal Diana’s location. If she considered it in all honesty, she would probably do it, if not for her morally right colleague. His presence stayed her hand but did little to dull the itch.

  “Nice interrogation tactics, Austin,” Joel growled. “I’m sure the IPCC would love to hear about this.”

  She refused to take his bait and ignored his threat.

  “I asked you a simple question,” she continued, swallowing back the burning impatience. “Where. Is. Diana?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The man laughed, still pinned by Constable Patel.

  A growl of anger ripped from Olivia’s lips, emanating from deep within her chest as she narrowed the space between them.

  “Detective Inspector,” her colleague panted, looking up from Joel to Olivia. She wanted nothing more than to snap at him, to tell him to stay in his lane.

  “Listen,” he urged.

  Her brow furrowed in confusion.

  She heard it, then. Ever so faintly.

  A muffled banging sound coming from further down the hallway.

  PC Diana Hershel?

  11

  “We’re coming for you!” Olivia exclaimed, a smile curling itself into the corner of her lips despite the fear that still gripped her throat. “You lose,” she spat out toward Joel, who snarled in response before PC Patel readjusted his grip on him.

  “Diana, keep making noise and we’ll come to you!” she called out. As though on cue, the beams of four or five torches pierced the darkness from outside, clearly scanning the property. Backup.

  Olivia darted over to the window, waitin
g to be illuminated. As soon as a beam caught her, she signalled for the team to follow inside. Whether it was Dean, Shaw, or both, she couldn’t tell, but it meant that she and Patel wouldn’t have to secure Joel on their own.

  “Stay here,” Olivia urged Raj, stepping closer to make sure Turner stayed down.

  Before long, the steady rhythm of feet running down the hall met her ears. Relief washed over her, heating her skin so quickly that it pained her.

  Five officers and Lawrence flooded the room, batons and torches at the ready.

  “Dean,” Olivia exhaled. She let her eyes close for a moment, finally safe.

  “Inspector Austin,” Lawrence replied, and although his address was formal, his tone was warm, a smile hidden in the corner of his mouth.

  “You four, help Raj secure the bastard. Dean, you and I are going to search for Diana,” Olivia commanded, quickly springing into action. “Keep quiet. I could hear her making noise earlier.”

  Lawrence scanned the hallway.

  “Are you sure it’s her?” he asked as he approached, getting close enough to Olivia to speak in hushed tones.

  “I’m—” Olivia hadn’t considered that it could be someone else in the basement. “I hadn’t got that far,” she confessed. “But my gut tells me it is.”

  Lawrence took a deep breath.

  “Just be prepared,” he cautioned as the banging resumed.

  Olivia turned her head toward the sounds.

  “That’s great! Keep up the noise!” she hollered, brushing off her partner’s warning to follow the banging.

  Joel let out a raucous scream, his eyes lighting up with rage. Olivia whirled round to look at him in disgust. He was doing his best to obscure the sound of the banging.

  “Get him out of here,” she ordered quickly, gesturing with a nod to the front of the house. Her team obliged without issue, hauling Turner’s resistant body to a stand and yanking him away.

  The banging had slowed, but as Joel’s screaming quieted, they could hear it once again.

  “Keep it up! We’re coming!” Olivia heard the desperation in her voice. She needed to find her.

  Their torches lit the hallway as they continued deeper into the house. Although the sound almost definitely originated deeper than the ground floor, they still took the time to clear each room as they passed.

  Making it to the end of the hallway, Olivia and Lawrence stared at each other in confusion. The banging continued, yet they hadn’t found the source.

  “There must be something in the floorboards or behind a wall,” Lawrence reasoned, immediately bending down to investigate the slabs of wood. Olivia joined in on the search, knocking against the wall every few feet to check for a hollow spot.

  “Give us three quick bangs if we sound closer to you than earlier!” Olivia called out into the house.

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  “Good! We’re going to find you,” Olivia assured the empty hallway before continuing her prodding against the wall.

  “Here,” Lawrence grunted, pulling a floorboard loose near the end wall. Underneath lay a metal slab of some sort that appeared wholly out of place in the old house. Olivia kneeled next to her partner, pulling at nearby slabs and finding their removal easy—too easy.

  After pulling away five more floorboards, the inspectors found themselves facing a metal hatch. The banging sound undeniably emanated from beneath.

  “What kind of… dramatic sociopath does something like have a secret door inside an old Victorian mansion?” Olivia questioned, a scoff quick to her lips.

  “It does have a certain flair to it, doesn’t it?” Lawrence replied with a wry smile before heaving at a circular handle. With a creak, the hatch opened, revealing the tip of a ladder descending down into darkness. Olivia’s stomach plummeted.

  “We’re coming for you!” she called out even as her heart pounded against her chest. “Who wants to go first?” she asked shakily, turning to face her partner. He looked as pale as she felt.

  “Right, then,” Olivia sighed before tossing her legs over the side of the ladder. “You better light me with your torch. Here goes nothing.”

  12

  The ladder descended deeper than Olivia had initially anticipated. She had hoped for ten or twelve rungs, but she’d been going for at least twenty. The air was clammy and cold, humid air creating condensation on the steps.

  “I really don’t like this,” she muttered to herself as she continued her descent, the sole light of Lawrence’s torch doing little to give her extra vision.

  “Are you there yet?” Dean called, his voice warped by the cavern.

  “Not quite,” she called back. The thumping had stopped, which helped calm Olivia’s heart but did little to help gauge how close she was to the ground. Sweat made her hands slick, creating an even bigger challenge of lowering herself without slipping.

  As she lowered her right foot to the next rung, something went terribly wrong. Instead of getting purchase, she found the ladder slick as her foot slipped off it.

  She yelped out, desperately clinging to the wood as her whole lower body started to free fall. She must have screamed. It didn't register for her, but she heard Dean throw his own legs over the edge to start his own descent.

  Valiant as it was, it meant Olivia lost all sight as he transitioned his torch.

  "Liv!" he called out, the rush of his hands and feet swiftly descending the ladder echoing down the cavern.

  "I'm okay!” she called out, though her shoulders protested otherwise. “Shit," she swore under her breath, hopefully quiet enough that her partner couldn't hear.

  Her head reeled at the pain as her legs continued to dangle against the ladder. It was too much; the strain on her shoulders, the beating from Joel. The air tasted metallic, and it took all of Olivia’s strength to simply breathe through it.

  "I'm still on the ladder… just," she panted, "don't be too hasty.”

  “Noted,” he replied.

  With relief, she heard her partner's frantic climb begin to slow.

  "Hang on,” she called upwards. "I think—” If she pointed her toes, she felt something other than the rung or thin air. "I've found the bottom!" she declared, smiling triumphantly before releasing her hands from the ladder. Hopefully, that was the right decision.

  Her feet found purchase on the floor of the cavern as she landed with a thud.

  Her head throbbed with all of the impact she had taken since entering the house. She'd never had migraines before, but she had to imagine that this pain was similar. Every beat of her heart, she felt as if it made her head swell and enlarge, pressing outwards.

  Illuminating her torch, bile rose in Olivia's throat as she realized why that last rung had been so slick. Crimson blood sprayed across the last meter or two of the ladder, coating it.

  “Careful, Dean," she started to shout, the urge to wretch up her stomach contents strong. "There's blood. Lots of it..." Her torch scanned the narrow cavern, shedding light on a large pool of the viscous substance on the floor and out toward the walls. Some of it had dried, but the damp nature of the cave made most of it still strangely fresh.

  The end of Olivia's scan revealed a metal door inlaid in the rocky cave. She rushed to it, her limbs doing their best to keep her steady in the jarring passageway.

  "Diana!" she nearly screamed. "Diana, we're here." Pressing against the door, she fumbled around to find its latch. Behind her, she heard the thud of Lawrence landing the cavern floor. Before she knew it, he was once again by her side.

  Olivia's fingers caught on a skeleton key shoved into the lock. She twisted it, hearing a tell-tale click as it rotated, and then she was pulling, yanking, trying to open the door with all of her might. It was heavy, but with a pained scream, she managed to slowly pry it open.

  At first, she wasn't sure what the sound was—it was too quiet. Realisation pressed her body down, though, as she recognised the sound of quiet sobs.

  Lawrence's torch pressed around the door, bringing light to
the room as Olivia stumbled forward, dropping to her knees in front of a twisted figure, barely clothed and curled in on herself.

  Hershel.

  It was PC Hershel.

  13

  Olivia's breath drew from her body as she realised it was Diana—traumatised but alive.

  "It's okay," she whispered, gently reaching her hand out to place it on Hershel's shoulder still gently shaking with her cries. "It's Olivia and Dean. We've got you. You're safe.”

  After checking that the door would indeed remain open, Lawrence rushed forth, pulling off his suit jacket to shelter Diana. He draped it around her shoulders and upper torso, bringing her some warmth. The woman still wouldn't look at them, and one hand was held up as if to shield herself from the torch's light.

  Olivia gently reached out to turn Lawrence’s light away from her wild eyes and instead toward the ceiling leaving only a gentle pool of light illuminating Diana’s frame.

  "Katie..." Hershel muttered, and Olivia could tell from that one word that her throat was bone dry. She felt the officer's forehead. Just as she had worried: feverish.

  "Diana, it's Olivia, not Katie,” she explained, giving Dean a worried glance as she spoke. She didn't know of any Katies in the department.

  “Katie... her name was Katie,” she croaked, initiating another concerned look from Lawrence. Olivia traced his face with her eyes, searching for answers as the puzzle pieces began to click into place. Surely, it couldn't mean…

  The dark streaks of blood from the hallway caught Olivia's eyes once more, accompanied by the images of the unidentified woman unceremoniously dumped in front of the station. Fuck.

  "We'll investigate it further, Diana. You've done a great job,” Olivia reassured the officer. “But now it's important that you rest.” Her eyes were still squeezed shut, her face screwed in on itself in anguish.

  "There's a ladder to get out. Do you think you're strong enough to climb it on your own?” Lawrence offered the question as gently as he could. “If not, we can get something set up to hoist you out. HART should already be on scene. I can go and....”