Page 51 of The Question of Us (Fisher & Church #2)
They stared at each other for a long moment before Freddie’s shoulders finally relaxed and he was back in control.
He reached into his pocket and threw a roll of duct tape Clarence’s way.
“Tape his fucking mouth. I don’t care if anyone sees him.
And if Marty asks about the marks, you all say I had to stop Lee making a break for it.
If you don’t, I’ll make sure you’re gone by tomorrow. Understand?”
The guards nodded.
Lee, on the other hand, looked about to offer a comment, which was no doubt incendiary, but Clarence was quick to silence him with a round of tape.
I can’t say I wasn’t grateful. But that haughty look continued to convey Lee’s disdain, and when he finally looked my way, I narrowed my eyes and gave him a tiny shake of my head.
Translation: Shut the fuck up. If we were going to get out of this mess in one piece, the last thing we needed was another incident like that. Next time might not end so well.
At my glare, Lee’s eyes danced. He was clearly pleased with his job of humiliating the PA, and the part of me that could only imagine what he’d suffered in that house thought Good for you, mate. The other part that wanted to get back to Mads alive just wanted him to shut the fuck up.
Clarence reached for his flashlight and led the group across the small patch of lawn to a narrow path that disappeared up into the garden.
It was hardly wide enough for one person to pass, let alone the men supporting Gazza, and the guards swore under their breath as stray branches scraped their faces.
About fifteen metres in, we paused at the junction with a much broader path.
Laughter and music rose from our left, so the right had to lead up to the turnaround, the same path used for deliveries the day before.
When Clarence was happy the path was clear, he waved us right, and pretty soon we were filing out of the garden and into the same dusty turnaround that Mads and I had circled the day before. A Jeep and a Land Rover were parked along the hedgerow, the only vehicles in sight.
“Jack, load Aaron into the Jeep. He and Fisher come with me. Clarence, you and Ronnie can take the other two.” Freddie propelled me toward the front door of the Jeep while Aaron was pushed to the rear.
Clarence, Lee, and the men hauling Gazza peeled off toward the Land Rover but hadn’t taken more than a couple of steps when Gazza abruptly vomited a load of bile onto Ronnie’s boots.
The guard swore and tried to scrape it clean on the dirt while his mate watched on, laughing.
Clarence threw them a towel. “That’s the second time tonight. Don’t let him spew in the car as well.”
I landed awkwardly in the front seat, thanks to a shove from Freddie and white-hot pain flared in my hip and knee. It was all I could do not to cry out.
“All the way in.” Freddie grabbed my leg, still dangling outside, and rammed it through the door. I almost blacked out. He shot me a toothy grin. “Aw, did that hurt?”
Without thinking, I jerked my good knee up to catch him in the chest, but he drew back in time and backhanded me across the face, sending stars spinning behind my eyes. Something trickled down my cheek and ran into my mouth. Blood. He’d opened up the old wound above my brow. Just fucking great.
Freddie swore and set about tying a filthy rag that stank of horse around my head. “Marty will lose his shit if you get blood on his leather.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want to upset Marty, would we?” I tensed, expecting another strike, but Freddie only laughed.
The interior lights blazed in the Land Rover parked next door, and when I turned to check, Lee was staring back at me from the front passenger seat and Gazza was in the back, propped next to the guard.
Clarence took the wheel and began to reverse.
Those old self-defence lessons came back to me—never let them get you in a car and never let them move you somewhere else.
I’d failed on both accounts. Then again, I’m sure those rules weren’t aimed at idiots who trespassed on a psychopath’s sex party and got caught trying to steal his favourite boy.
Any chance we had of getting away from these jerks was looking less likely by the minute.
As Freddie followed Clarence out of the turnaround, I let my thoughts run to Mads. Where was he? Had he convinced the police to get involved? Had Samuel? How would they find us?
I prayed Mads wasn’t doing something stupid while at the same time knowing the odds of that were pretty fucking dismal.
That big beautiful brain wasn’t built for patience.
Mads was a problem solver, and the problem of my sudden radio silence wasn’t one he’d ignore or wait for others to solve.
We were alike in that regard. No, Mads would be coming for me, I just fucking knew it.
But he had no idea where I was or what he was walking into.
Clarence had us at the business end of the operation in around a minute flat.
Machinery sheds, horse floats, balers, hay barns, transport trucks and the like lined both sides of the track all the way into the stable complex itself, which was a lot bigger than it had looked from a distance.
Two long buildings faced each other across a wide expanse of cobblestone paving peppered with open drains.
The ground level of each building was dedicated to stabling—thirty or so on each side—tack and equipment rooms dotted at intervals along the way.
Lights shone in a few rooms above the stables, and I remembered Lee saying his brother lived down here.
The far end of one stable block was given over to what looked like a communal kitchen, which led onto a covered patio with barbecues and a ton of outdoor furniture.
Through the open door, I could see a group of people playing cards.
The sound of our vehicles garnered a few curious looks that quickly turned to smiles and waves when the card players recognised the vehicles.
Beyond the stables, the night closed in on the road once again, but we kept moving.
As I stared out into the darkness, it hit me all too clearly.
We were deep in Marty’s land here, and even if I somehow got free, how the hell was I going to get Gazza all the way back to the main road?
He needed two men just to stay upright. We’d be caught before we got anywhere close to safety.
The reality of our situation sent a cold dread up my spine, and for the first time, I wondered if maybe we weren’t going to get out of this unscathed, or maybe even. .. at all.
The vehicles made a wide circle around the back of the stables, the headlights picking up two more barn-like structures in the distance.
Freddie parked in front of the closest one, a concrete block building with clear panel roofing.
It was roughly the size of an indoor basketball court and maybe two stories high.
The only entrance appeared to be a set of steel barn doors straight ahead.
Clarence pulled in alongside.
“We get out here.” Freddie exited the Jeep and circled around to open my door before dragging me out by the collar. He steered me toward a small steel door inset into one of the larger ones and shoved me inside.
I plunged across the threshold into a shadowy interior lit by the grey light of the moon coming through the clear roof.
Rippled patterns played across the walls, the stink of chlorine hung in the humid air, the distant thrum of a filtration pump and extractor fans breaking an otherwise eerie stillness.
Then someone hit the lights and the equine hydro pool was revealed in all its glory.
The exercise pool was shaped like a musical note and filled most of the large interior.
It had a long, narrow sloping entrance that funnelled into a deep circular pool wrapping around a central concrete platform.
The platform was accessed by a retractable bridge.
I remembered seeing a similar set-up on a television documentary where the horse had been on two long leads attached to its noseband.
One was held by a trainer on the platform, the second by someone walking the outside perimeter of the pool.
The steel barn doors sat at the entrance end of the pool.
A glass-walled office lay to one side, along with a bathroom, shower, treatment bay, and a small kitchenette.
The far wall at the circular end of the pool held cubbyhole storage for towels, grooming equipment, harnesses, ropes, and a million other bits of equine equipment I couldn’t name if you paid me, and a long run of hooks holding various items of waterproof clothing.
What was noticeably absent however, was any other form of entrance or exit.
No other door to the outside and no windows, just skylights peppering the roof.
It left one way in and one way out. The barn doors or nothing.
All in all, not a bad place to hold a few people while you figured out what to do with them.
Freddie called to Clarence, who was rolling a limp Gazza onto his side on the floor, “Cuff their ankles and tape the rest of their mouths.” He glanced at Gazza.
“No exceptions. And someone better warn those idiots in the kitchen that anyone curious enough to come looking will forfeit their job. Clarence, I need you with me. Jack and Ronnie stay here. No one goes in or out unless Marty or I are with them. Understand? I don’t care if one of them throws themselves in the pool.
They can drown for all I care, got it?” He sent a meaningful look our way and the two security guards nodded.
My last glimmer of hope slid away.
Really fucking hard just became pretty damn impossible.