Traitor in the House Read online

  Leigh stood as they entered the room. ‘Hi, Grace,’ she said.

  ‘Hi, Leigh. This is Jasmine.’ She indicated the younger woman behind her and sat down at the table.

  ‘Thank you so much for agreeing to talk to me,’ Leigh said as she extended her hand.

  Jazz shook it lightly before removing her coat and taking a seat next to Grace.

  Leigh sat down and Grace ordered the three women a cappuccino each from the waitress. When she had walked away to get their order, Leigh spoke.

  ‘I assume Grace has told you why I wanted to speak to you?’

  ‘Yes. You want to know if I know anything about Sol’s possible connection to the murder of a young woman in Manchester two years ago?’

  ‘Exactly that.’

  ‘If I know anything about that, then I’ll tell you. But that is all I’m here to talk about. My ex-husband had many allies and many enemies, Detective Moss, and I don’t want to give any of them a reason to come after me or my family.’

  ‘Of course. I understand.’

  ‘I hope you do. This is all off the record?’ Jazz asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Leigh replied.

  ‘And this is a one-time deal.’

  ‘Okay,’ Leigh said.

  ‘Good.’ Jazz smiled then. ‘Let me start by telling you that Sol was definitely more than capable of murdering that girl, but he didn’t. He may have been involved, but he didn’t actually kill her.’

  ‘Oh? How do you know that?’ Leigh asked.

  ‘Because I did my homework, Detective. I googled Melanie’s murder and Sol wasn’t in the country the day she was killed. We were in Morocco.’

  ‘That’s a good memory you have,’ Leigh said.

  ‘Don’t patronise me, Detective,’ Jazz said with a sweet smile. ‘It was two days after Sol’s fiftieth birthday. We were in Morocco for his birthday and we didn’t get back until the following week.’

  Grace sat back and smiled. She had accompanied Jazz to this meeting at her request, but she was starting to realise that Jazz didn’t need her there at all; she was proving herself more than capable of holding her own.

  Leigh smiled too. ‘I’m sorry, Jasmine, I didn’t mean to patronise you. I slip into interview mode all too easily.’

  Jazz shrugged. ‘It’s okay. And you can call me Jazz. Only Sol and my dad used to call me Jasmine.’

  ‘Okay, Jazz. Please call me Leigh.’

  They were interrupted by the waitress bringing their coffees. They each thanked her before Leigh resumed her questioning.

  ‘The reason I think that Sol may have been involved in Melanie’s murder, Jazz, is because I suspect it may have been something to do with a trafficking case that I worked on a couple of years ago. I always suspected that Sol was involved but I could never prove it.’

  Jazz remained silent, waiting for the question.

  Leigh stared at her for a few seconds, no doubt wondering if her face was going to reveal something, but Jazz remained impassive.

  ‘Do you know anything about him being involved in the trafficking of women and girls, Jazz?’ Leigh eventually asked.

  ‘I wouldn’t put it past him to be involved, but I don’t have any information to prove that he was.’

  ‘Did he ever bring any of the girls or women to your house?’

  ‘No. He wasn’t stupid.’

  ‘Did you ever hear talk about a girl called Melanie?’

  ‘No. He screwed lots of women behind my back, but he never talked about them. Like I said, he wasn’t stupid.’

  ‘To be honest, Jazz, I’m clutching at straws here. Is there anything you think might help me with this investigation? Or any link that you can think of, no matter how tenuous, to Melanie Simmonds?’

  Jazz leaned forward in her seat and Grace sensed that Leigh had finally asked the right question.

  ‘I do remember that a few weeks before his birthday he’d been moodier and more angry than usual. He was always a bit of a bastard, to be honest, but he was extra cruel. He snapped at everything I said or did. I remember because I was beginning to dread our holiday away together. Anyway, his right-hand man, Milo, was always at our house for one thing or another, and around this time they kept talking about this problem that needed dealing with and how he was going to go ape-shit when he found out. Now, Sol and Milo were always talking about problems they had to sort out, and I expect most of those problems ended up dead in a ditch somewhere, but this stood out to me because Sol actually seemed scared. Whoever he was, he had Sol rattled, and I don’t know if you ever met him, Leigh, but Sol was scared of no one. I even started to hope that Sol wouldn’t solve this particular problem and he’d be the one who ended up in a ditch for a change.’

  Leigh sat back in her chair. ‘And that was just before your holiday, and before Melanie was murdered?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What happened afterwards? Did you ever hear him talk about this man again, or whether this problem had been sorted?’

  ‘No. But shortly after we arrived in Morocco, he suddenly seemed more relaxed. He spoke to Milo a few times while we were away, and he always seemed to be in a good mood when he did. But he never mentioned him, again, whoever he was. At least not in my earshot anyway. And to be honest, by that time, I tried to spend as little time with or around Sol as possible, so I stopped hearing much of anything.’

  ‘Thank you, Jazz,’ Leigh said with a smile. ‘You’ve been really helpful.’

  ‘Have I? I hope so. I hope that you find the man responsible for killing these women, Leigh,’ Jazz said as she reached out and gave Leigh’s hand a squeeze.

  ‘Oh, we’ll find him. I promise you that,’ Leigh replied.

  Grace had just dropped Jazz off at home when her phone rang in her hand. She saw Leigh’s name flash up on the dashboard of her car and groaned. What did the hell did she want now?’

  ‘Hi, Leigh,’ Grace said.

  ‘Hi, Grace. I wanted to thank you again for speaking to Jazz for me. I started to do a little more digging into the Melanie Simmonds murder and found out she did a couple of shifts at a strip club called Jezebel’s. She didn’t last long because she couldn’t keep her drug habit under enough control. But you’ll never guess who used to be a silent partner in the club?’

  ‘Sol Shepherd?’ Grace said.

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Well done, Detective. Seems like you might be onto something.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Leigh replied. ‘I’ve been told to keep my beak out of the Simmonds case and focus on the Liverpool murders, so I can’t exactly go there in an official capacity, or send any of my team.’

  ‘Okay?’ Grace said, with a feeling that she already knew where this was headed.

  ‘I don’t suppose you fancy a recce with me tonight?’

  ‘Me?’ Grace laughed. ‘Why on earth would I?’

  ‘Oh, come on, Grace. You hated Sol as much as I did,’

  ‘But he’s dead,’ Grace reminded her. ‘Nothing we dig up on him will make a blind bit of difference.’

  ‘But wouldn’t you like to know who he was working with? Whoever this man is that Jazz talked about him being scared of? And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you get that little twinkle in your eye whenever we discuss the case. You want to get to the bottom of this as much as I do.’

  ‘Even if that were true, you seem to be forgetting that I’m not a police officer, Leigh.’

  ‘And I’m not asking you to be. All I’m asking is that you come for a drink with me tonight to Jezebel’s. We’ll have a few cocktails, use our considerable charm to get a bit of information about our old friend Melanie, and then leave without anyone being any the wiser.’

  Grace sighed. ‘Will this get you off my case for a few days?’

  ‘Yes. Scout’s honour,’ Leigh said.

  ‘Okay. I’ll pick you up in the car park of The Rocket pub at half past eight.’

  ‘Great. Wear something sexy. The fewer clothes, the better. We need information,’ Leigh said with a
laugh.

  ‘Sod off! It’s bad enough I have to tell Michael you’re taking me to some dodgy strip club, without leaving the house in a miniskirt and a boob tube.’

  ‘Okay. A little black dress will do,’ said Leigh, still laughing.

  ‘See you later, Leigh,’ Grace said with a smile before hanging up the phone. She sat back in her seat as she waited at the traffic lights on Allerton Road. How was she going to tell Michael what she and Leigh had planned? Particularly after his outburst the previous night. She’d hardly spoken to him all day, except to make sure he was okay to pick up the kids from school. It was a good job he already wasn’t speaking to her, she supposed.

  Grace walked into the living room and saw Michael sitting on the sofa. Their boxer dog Bruce was curled up asleep next to him, but hearing Grace walk into the room, Bruce jumped up and ran towards her, wagging his tail excitedly. She scratched behind his ears and gave him a peck on the head. At least someone was glad to see her.

  ‘Where are the kids?’ she asked.

  ‘I took them to Sean and Sophia’s after school and they wanted to stay over.’

  ‘Oh, okay. Have you eaten?’

  ‘No,’ he replied.

  ‘Want me to make us something?’ she asked.

  ‘There’s a lasagne in the oven,’ he replied, barely glancing up in her direction.

  ‘Right,’ she said and left the room.

  Grace went upstairs to shower, leaving her husband to sulk on the sofa. She hated arguing with him. They rarely had disagreements and her world felt completely out of kilter when they did.

  Grace picked up a fluffy towel from the warmer and wrapped it around herself. Walking out of the en-suite, she found Michael sitting on the edge of the bed.

  ‘How did it go today with Jazz? he asked.

  ‘Fine,’ she replied.

  ‘Just fine?’ he snapped.

  ‘Leigh asked her a few questions about Sol and his involvement in the murder of a young woman in Manchester. Jazz answered them. None of it was on the record. Nobody saw us. It was fine. Jazz doesn’t need to see Leigh ever again. Happy?’

  ‘Not really. But it’s done now. Isn’t it?’ He glared at her.

  ‘Did you just come up here to argue with me?’ Grace asked as she took the clip from her hair and let it fall loose around her shoulders.

  ‘No,’ he said with a sigh. ‘Have you spoken to Jake? He seemed pretty pissed off when he left last night.’

  ‘Yes. I saw him earlier. He was pissed off, and I completely understand why. But I talked to him and he’s okay. We’re okay. So it seems it’s just you who’s still annoyed with me.’ She tilted her head to look at him.

  ‘I’m just worried about you all,’ he said defensively.

  She sat next to him on the bed. ‘I know,’ she said quietly. Because she understood that was where his anger was coming from. He had always worried about them all, and since Paul had died, it had only confirmed that he had good reason to.

  ‘I would never put our children in danger. Any of them,’ she said.

  Her turned and looked at her. ‘I know.’

  ‘And I have never regretted coming back to Liverpool. You and the kids mean more to me…’ She wasn’t sure she could finish the sentence. But she didn’t have to. Michael leaned towards her and sealed her mouth with a kiss. Then his warm hands were removing her towel before he pushed her back onto the bed.

  ‘I love you,’ he whispered.

  ‘I love you too,’ Grace replied. She smiled as he trailed kisses down her collarbone, over her breasts and onto her stomach. Curling her fingers in his hair, she arched her back and concentrated on the feel of his soft lips and rough hands on her skin, trying to forget how the hell she was going to tell him her plans for later in the evening.

  Michael lay on top of the covers with Grace’s body pressed against his. He stroked her long dark hair as he waited for his heart to stop hammering in his chest. When she’d arrived home just over an hour earlier, he’d still been annoyed with her, but he couldn’t stay angry at her for very long. He never could and he doubted he ever would. There was something about her that made it impossible for him – especially when she was sitting next to him in nothing but a towel.

  Michael knew that his wife thought she was invincible. He supposed he couldn’t blame her – she had survived things that most wouldn’t – and yet she remained a woman capable of incredible compassion and warmth. If anything ever happened to her, or their kids, he didn’t know what he would do. She was the glue that held their family together. But he couldn’t shift an uneasy feeling that she was getting in over her head helping Leigh Moss.

  ‘That lasagne will be burned to a crisp by now,’ Grace said, snapping him from his thoughts.

  ‘It’s okay, it’s only on low. I wasn’t expecting you back so early,’ he said as he kissed the top of her head.

  ‘I love that you still made me dinner even when you weren’t speaking to me.’

  ‘Of course I was speaking to you,’ he insisted.

  She started to laugh and it made him smile. He loved the sound of her laughing. It had been one of the first things he’d noticed about her when he’d walked into her pub, The Rose and Crown. ‘No, you weren’t.’ She nudged him. ‘You came to bed last night and you didn’t even touch me.’

  ‘It was late and I thought you were asleep.’

  ‘That doesn’t usually stop you.’ She looked up at him and smiled, and he laughed because it was true.

  ‘I suppose I was a little bit pissed off with you,’ he said, running his hand up her arm and up to her face, resting it on her cheek, where he rubbed his thumb across her flushed skin. ‘But only a bit.’

  ‘Well, I suppose I kind of blindsided you with the whole Jazz-speaking-to-Leigh thing,’ she said with a shrug.

  ‘You think?’

  ‘Well, let me make it up to you,’ she offered.

  ‘I thought you just did?’ He flashed his eyebrows at her.

  ‘I mean, I’ll sort dinner while you relax.’

  ‘Okay. Sounds like a deal.’

  At that minute, Bruce started howling from the bottom of the stairs. ‘I’ll see to the dog, you sort dinner,’ Michael said as he jumped off the bed and started to pull some clothes on.

  ‘I do love you, Carter,’ Grace said as she propped herself on one elbow. She smiled at him and he felt his heart constrict in his chest. This woman had him by the balls – but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Grace had plied Michael with wine and lasagne and he was sitting opposite her at their dining table when she decided to tell him about her earlier conversation with Leigh.

  He stared at her open-mouthed. ‘Are you fucking serious?’ he snapped.

  She swirled her wine around her glass. ‘Well, I was. But now that I’m home, and the kids are out, I can think of a much better way to spend my evening.’

  That caught him off guard and she knew he didn’t know whether to smile or frown at her, so he did a combination of the two that made her laugh.

  ‘This isn’t funny, Grace,’ he said, the smile still playing on his lips.

  ‘Oh, give over. I’ve been in much worse places than strip clubs and you know it. But anyway, I’ve just told you I’m not going. In hindsight, I think two women going into there might look a bit odd, do you think?’

  ‘That’s the only reason you’re not going?’ he snapped.

  ‘Mostly, but also because I know you don’t want me to, and I understand why.’

  ‘So you’re actually listening to me?’ He raised an eyebrow at her. ‘Well, wonders will never cease.’

  ‘I always listen to you,’ she said, feigning her indignation. ‘Sometimes.’

  ‘Always sometimes?’ he said with a grin. ‘So, what are you going to tell Leigh?’ he said as he looked at his watch. ‘You’re supposed to meet her in half an hour.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that. I have a plan.’

  Michael smiled at her and she felt her stomach
flutter. She was glad they were on speaking terms again. Not that they ever fell out for very long. Michael was hot-headed at times, but he was never stubborn.

  A few moments later, Michael was loading the dishwasher and Grace picked up her mobile phone. She dialled the number and it was answered after a few rings.

  ‘Hi, Boss.’ John Brennan’s deep voice filled her ear.

  ‘John,’ she said sweetly. ‘I have a favour to ask you.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  Leigh Moss shifted from one foot to the other and wrapped her coat tighter around herself as she stood in the biting cold. Glancing at her watch, she saw it was past 9 p.m., which meant that Grace Carter was late. Maybe that was a good thing? Was Leigh being completely reckless asking Grace Carter for help? On paper, Grace was a woman that Leigh shouldn’t even be speaking to, never mind arranging off-the-books recon missions with. But there was something about Grace Carter that made Leigh drop her guard. It was more than just their shared history, or the fact that Grace had once saved Leigh’s life, it was that they were so in tune. If circumstances were different, Leigh wondered if she and Grace could have been good friends. But circumstances weren’t different, and no matter how alike they were, Leigh could not allow herself to forget who Grace Carter really was.

  As she contemplated driving home Leigh saw the headlights of a car approaching. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust enough to the darkness to see that it wasn’t Grace’s Mercedes, or even Michael’s Aston Martin, which she occasionally drove. It was a large BMW X5. Leigh’s heart started to pound in her chest. Had she been set up? If not, why had Grace felt the need to bring back-up?

  The car rolled to a stop next to Leigh and the driver switched off the engine. Leigh swallowed and willed her heart rate to slow. There was only one occupant in the car. It was John Brennan. What the hell was he doing here? The car engine was switched off and she watched as John opened the driver’s door and stepped out onto the tarmac.