Lara, shocked, turns and sees the surprise on her husband’s face.
‘I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,’ Ben says.
Ben glances at his wife. She’s gone ghost white. All he wants is to protect her. He turns back to the intruder. ‘What files?’
‘Oh, I think you know,’ he says. And then he looks intently at Lara. ‘Or maybe only she does.’
She shakes her head. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about either.’
The man steps forward suddenly and strikes her hard against the face. She cries out, and Ben lurches to his feet. ‘Leave her alone!’
The man pushes him hard, and Ben falls back onto the bed. His voice turns menacing. ‘I’m not here to fuck around.’ He says to Lara, ‘You have keys to the Westcotts’ place, correct?’
Lara starts, whispers, ‘Yes.’
‘And you know the security code, because you look after the place when they’re gone, don’t you?’
Ben feels a growing dread, as he watches her nod, swallow.
‘So, can you put two and two together, or do I have to spell it out for you?’
Ben shouts, ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’
The man shouts back, ‘The cameras!’ He leans in close to Lara, his covered face mere inches from hers, and says, ‘You planted cameras in the Westcotts’ house, and I want everything you downloaded from them.’
‘I didn’t!’ she cries, in obvious panic.
Ben is filled with dawning horror. His wife wouldn’t do something like that. But he realizes, sickeningly, thatsomeonehas. Why else would this man be here, asking for files from some hidden cameras? ‘This has nothing to do with us!’ he cries.
And now, fighting disbelief, he realizes that Ted and Jillprobably sent this man, because they think it was them.He realizes, with shock, that maybe Ted and Jill did murder Greg Westcott.
The man holds his knife up close against Lara’s throat. ‘I don’t believe you.’
Ben watches in panic as a trail of blood starts to trickle down his wife’s pale neck. Lara begins to sob. ‘I didn’t,’ she cries. ‘I don’t know anything about any cameras!’
‘Someone else must have done it,’ Ben says frantically. ‘It wasn’t us!’
But the intruder doesn’t seem to believe them. He grabs Lara’s arm. Then he starts carving shapes into her skin while she screams. Ben lurches up off the bed and charges toward him, but the other man steps aside and punches him hard in the stomach. Ben lies gasping on the floor. Now the intruder kicks him in the stomach for good measure. Ben hears his wife screaming as he slips in and out of consciousness.
Chapter Forty-Two
JOHN IS FRUSTRATED.He checks their cell phones, still wearing his black nitrile gloves, looking for any telltale texts, any files. They both deny having any other phones. This hasn’t gone as he expected. He’d hoped that with a little persuasion, they’d break down and offer him what he needs. But they don’t have the files. He’s sure they don’t. There’s no way this guy would let his wife be tortured like that and not fess up. Same with her– she’s not that tough. She’d finally fainted, probably from seeing the bright red blood all over her arm and running into the white sheets. He doesn’t think the pain could have been that bad.
He regards the two of them. She’s slouched on her side on the bed, tears smeared all over her face, blood all over her arm. Her husband is up beside her again on the bed, leaning toward her, tears streaming down his face. ‘Lara,’ he pleads, his voice breaking. ‘Lara.’
John has never understood this kind of thing. Love and tears and all that.
He knows they don’t have the files. He believes them. It’s disappointing. But it is what it is. He steps forward and pats her face briskly to bring her around. Her eyes flutter open, and she stares back at him in abject fear.
‘You happy now?’ the husband snarls at him.
‘Not really,’ John says. ‘Just to be sure, I’d like to see your computers.’
‘Our laptops are over there, on the desk.’
He already knows they don’t have a desktop, because he had Billy look. John grabs the two laptops off the desk and brings them over. He thrusts them onto the bed. ‘Which one is yours?’ he asks Lara. She indicates with her head. He cuts the ties on her wrists. ‘Open it and sign in.’
She does as he asks. He takes the laptop from her and uses a new zip tie to retie her hands. Then he settles on the floor and searches through it, while she whimpers and her husband tries to comfort her. John is good with computers, and he knows what to look for. There’s nothing there. He does the same with the husband’s laptop, but there’s nothing there either.
