Heart thumping fast in my chest, I seized the opportunity and nipped upstairs. First, I used the bathroom in case anyone had followed me up, taking off my rings and placing them on the sink as I washed my hands. I left the tap on and closed the bathroom door behind me as I exited; if someone came looking for me, they’d hear the water running and assume I was in there.
Besides the bathroom door, there were four others. Where you could probably draw the first floor of Jack’s house from memory, I was struggling to recall ever having been up there. I pulled open the first door to my left, but it was just a cupboard full of spare towels and toiletries, so I swung right, passed the bathroom door and opened another: Jack’s study. It was much the same as the other rooms in his house, sleek, minimal and neat. I ran a finger over his desk and saw there wasn’t a speck of dust. Really, Elodie, his living space was serial-killer clean. I expected both of his desk drawers to be locked. They weren’t, but there was nothing incriminating inside either of them, just organised stationery and sketch books. Frustrated, I stood back, looking for more drawers to open, more paperwork to riffle through, but besides the exceptionally tidy desk, his framed qualifications above and the built-in bookshelves adjacent, there was nothing else.
His office was very impersonal. Even on Ethan’s desk there’s a framed photograph and me and him on our wedding day. The only things Jack declared worthy of frames were a technical sketch of the first building he designed alongside a photograph of it, his qualifications, and a photograph from his days playing for Crosshaven RFC. I didn’t have to scan the faces of rugby players for long before I narrowed in on him. Front and centre. Why was I not surprised? I was just about to turn away when I spotted another familiar face in the background. In it, he was mid-step, carrying a toolbox up on the slope above the field where the photograph was taken, and he was looking directly into the camera. Dark hair, thin face and black round-rimmed glasses: David Taylor.
It took a moment for the surge of triumph to break through the shock of my discovery and when it did, I reached out to snatch the photograph from the wall then stopped because Jack might catch me with it and destroy it. Thinking fast, I decided to take a picture on my phone instead, only to realise I’d left my handbag in the bathroom. Hurrying from the office, I burst into the bathroom.
And froze.
Jack was standing in front of the sink, slowly turning off the tap. We stared at one another, the back of my neck prickling with panic.
‘Got lost?’ he drawled.
Stalling, I smoothed down my dress. ‘I thought I heard someone down the hall,’ I said as coolly as possible. Then, to throw him off I added, ‘In the bedroom.’
He didn’t believe me, Elodie, not for a second. He closed the gap between us, and his rather spacious bathroom suddenly felt impossibly small. His eyes drifted over me, lingering on my bare legs. ‘If you wanted a closer look at my bedroom, all you had to do was ask.’
His words implied sexual advance, the look on his face implied threat. We both understood he was stronger than me and if he chose to, he could take whatever he wanted. I wasn’t brave enough to call him out on it though. ‘A tour would’ve been lovely, Jack, but Ethan and all the other guests are probably wondering where I am,’ I said to remind him we weren’t alone.
He stood so still; unease crawled across my skin, leaving little goosebumps in its wake. He reminded me of one of those coiled vipers you see on nature documentaries, right before it strikes, sinking its fangs into the little mouse’s body. I was tempted to ask questions: how did he know David Taylor? Had he disclosed it to the police? Was he in on your fake book deal? But the urge to get away from him prevailed. ‘Anyway,’ I said. ‘I’ll see you downstairs.’
I was desperate to leave the bathroom, but my back was to the door, and I didn’t want to take my eye off him, not even for a second. I backed up a little, reaching behind me for the handle, then I whipped around to open it.
‘Ada.’ I froze as I felt the heat of his body pressed against my back. ‘You forgot your bag.’
I found I could hardly breathe as I took my Chanel from him. I always knew Jack was possessive and confrontational, and though I suspected he was involved in your disappearance, I didn’t view him as dangerous. Not until I was trapped in a small space with him. But he is. I felt it.
As I hurried down the stairs to rejoin the safety of the party, I feared for you.
I messaged Christopher asking him to meet me on the corner of Jack’s street. I didn’t want to ring him in case someone at the party, or Jack himself, overheard. I was so eager to tell Christopher about Jack and David, I couldn’t come up with a feasible excuse for my leaving, so I went without telling anyone. Outside, it was bitter, and I hadn’t thought to grab my coat, so I was grateful when I saw Christopher idling on the corner.
‘Wow, Ada, you look …’ he said as I climbed inside.
‘They know each other,’ I blurted. ‘Jack and David know each other.’ I glanced over my shoulder, paranoid Jack had followed me out. ‘Can you start driving so we can talk about this?’
Christopher pulled away from the curb. ‘Jack told you this – that he knows David?’
‘Of course not. In his study is a photograph of the two of them together.’
He frowned. ‘Jack might be brazen, but displaying a photograph of him and your sister’s captor cosying up together isn’t smart. You sure about this, Ada?’
‘They aren’t cosying up. It’s a team photo of Crosshaven RFC taken when Jack played there ten years ago. In the background David is carrying a toolbox. You said he’s a handyman, well he must’ve worked for the rugby club.’
‘This doesn’t prove—’
‘He lied. Jack said he’d never met David. He’s lying.’
‘Or Jack didn’t come across the club’s handyman,’ he wagered. ‘Can you name or even describe any of the cleaning staff from your secondary school?’
I pressed my lips together. ‘No.’
‘There you go.’
Christopher’s phone rang and he slowed.
‘What’re you doing?’
‘It could be work,’ he said.
‘You’re off duty, it can wait.’ I knew I was being demanding but I finally had some evidence that Jack is a liar. If I’d known then how important that call was, I’d have answered it myself. ‘Jack paid David to follow and abduct my sister. David doesn’t know it was Jack, but it was.’
‘Jack doesn’t strike me as the type to share.’
‘He doesn’t have to. Now David’s single-handedly taken the blame, Jack has Elodie all to himself.’ His phone sounded again. ‘This has all been about Jack getting close to my sister. Mum told me after Elodie realised she was being followed, she stayed with Jack a lot but knowing him, that wasn’t enough, so he took it further. You said if I could prove Jack and David knew each other, you’d take a closer look at Jack.’
He nodded. ‘Where’s the photo?’
‘In his study. I wanted to get a picture of it, but I left my phone in the bathroom and then Jack found me and—’