I'LL FIND YOU: A gripping suspenseful thriller filled with twists, page 1
I’LL FIND YOU
DAN CLARK
First Published in Great Britain in 2022
Copyright © 2022 Dan Clark
The author has asserted their right under the Copyright, Designs and Patent Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Cover Design by Creative Covers
Typesetting by Book Polishers
For Melissa Carroll & Stephanie Turner.
Thank you for being amazing friends to my beautiful fiancée.
I’m so grateful that Rachel has loyal and caring friends like the two of you.
Chapter 1
2007
The Lake District
The small van came to a stop on the gravelled car park leading to Lake Windermere. Robert Harris applied the handbrake, switched off the ignition and stepped out. He sighed as he straightened his back and took in the cool evening air. The water looked serene – perfect for spending the night on. His wife, Helen, climbed from the passenger side and brushed down her burgundy A-line dress that ended just above her knees. She looked great. The dress was Robert’s favourite, which he’d given her for her birthday the previous year.
This evening was their wedding anniversary, and they’d be spending it aboard The Maple Lady: a 1990 cabin cruiser with maple wood interior.
Robert had proposed to Helen just over ten years ago, after she’d fallen pregnant. They were married a couple of months later in Gretna Green. It was a small service with only a handful of people. Robert’s mother had died when he was young, but his father attended. Helen and her sister Angela came from a long line of foster homes.
Robert headed to the back of his van and pulled out the suitcase. He’d already stocked The Maple Lady’s fridge with alcohol and pre-made food earlier that day, after fitting his own bedding and paying for the hire at the leasing office, which was just a small container in the car park. The Maple Lady, along with two other cabin cruisers and a small fishing tour boat, was owned by Will Hale, of Sail with Hale Boat Tours. Originally from Africa, Will was a short man with an impressive thick moustache. He’d advertise his company as the ‘friendliest family-run boat tours in town’, though it was just himself and his wife, as their two children were still toddlers.
“Are you ok?” Robert asked. Helen was watching the golden ripples on the water as the sun was setting. She turned to face him and beamed her beautiful infectious smile, with her blue eyes sparkling in admiration. It was these features that Robert had fallen in love with.
She nodded. “Of course I am. I love this place.”
“Don’t lie. I know what it is,” Robert chuckled, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. “Jess will be fine with Angela for one night.”
“I know,” Helen smiled. “I know she will be. It’s the first time we’ve been gone overnight. I’m just a little worried,” she added, rubbing her goose-pimpled arms. With the sun almost gone, the evening had quickly turned cold.
Robert shrugged off his jacket and placed it around Helen’s thin shoulders.
“It’s our anniversary,” Robert said, picking up the suitcase. “I’m sure your sister can babysit Jess. I bet she won’t even stir. She’ll sleep right through the night, you’ll see.”
Helen didn’t answer, but nodded to show she agreed. Jess was a miracle baby and would sleep right through with no trouble.
“Besides, I’m sure Angela would have put a spell on Jess by now to keep her asleep.” Robert grinned.
“I wish you wouldn’t call my sister a witch,” Helen giggled, brushing her auburn hair over her ear. “She doesn’t practise witchcraft; she studies the healing properties of crystals.”
“Yeah, yeah, crystals, whatever you want to call it. As long as she doesn’t turn Jess into a frog before we get home, I don’t care what she studies.”
Helen laughed again and hit Robert in the arm before they headed down the creaky wooden pier to board The Maple Lady.
Ten minutes later, they were sailing from the marina and heading east, towards the middle of the lake. It was the spot where Robert had proposed to Helen.
***
Robert, Helen, Angela and Lewis (a friend of Helen’s from the police training college) had spent that day fishing, barbecuing, and drinking beers from the cool-box on the boat they had hired from Will Hale.
“That’s the third iced tea I’ve seen you drink,” Angela had said, finishing her beer and reaching for another. She faced her sister. “Why aren’t you drinking?”
“I’m just… not in the mood,” Helen replied, sheepishly, and sipped at her own drink.
“You?” Angela began, an expression of shock on her newly-sunburned face. “Not in the mood for beer? Give it a rest!” She laughed. “Unless you’re…” Angela stopped and raised her eyebrows, looking down at Helen’s flat stomach then back to her eyes. Helen raised a hand and held it on her stomach, as if blocking Angela’s X-ray vision into her womb.
Robert was chuckling and lifting a cold bottle of Bud to his lips when he met Helen’s eyes. She stared at him for a moment, her face expressionless and showing no answers. He lowered the bottle and raised his own eyebrows.
“A-are you?” he asked, waiting for Helen’s expression to crack, burst into laughter and shout that she had him and Angela fooled.
Angela and Lewis watched in suspense. The blaring, crackly radio, blasting out rock music, lost signal, and the boat fell silent. They could hear only the low slaps of the waves hitting the side of The Maple Lady.
A smile grew on Helen’s lips, and she nodded. Robert sat in a state of shock. A moment later he passed his bottle of Bud to Lewis. Helen stood and wrapped her arms around Robert’s neck. They hugged and cheered. Robert, Lewis and Angela clinked beers against Helen’s iced tea.
An hour later, as the sun was settling and the cool-box was empty apart from water from the melted ice, Robert began clearing away the bait boxes. As he tossed the remaining maggots overboard, he spotted a washer lying on the deck. He reached for it, turning the washer over in his hand and thinking. Finally, he turned to Helen. She wasn’t paying him any attention and was talking to Lewis about their officer safety training. Robert waited patiently down on one knee, holding out the rusted washer as he watched the woman he loved stare out into the distance.
“Robert, what are you doing?” Helen asked, the corners of her mouth rising and her eyes widening, sparkling with love.
Robert didn’t answer straight away. He was composing an on-the-spot speech as the last of the sun blazed down over his naked shoulders.
“Helen Carol Grant,” Robert began, his eyes squinting as he looked up towards the most amazing woman he had ever known. “The first day I saw you in Gib’s Diner, when you stepped in out of the rain. You were clutching those law books and even though you felt you looked ridiculous with your drenched, curly hair, Converses squelching as you walked, and makeup running down your face, I thought you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.” Helen smiled as her eyes glazed over with happy tears. “I realise we’ve only been dating a year, but news of our baby or not, I wanted you in my life from that very first day I saw you. Will you marry me?”
Angela snapped a picture with the disposable camera she’d brought along. She began winding the film on, preparing the camera for another picture.
Lewis’s spool spun with a fish on the hook and his line began unravelling, but no one noticed. No one cared. No one took their eyes off Helen’s, waiting for her answer.
Eventually, she whispered Yes. Her voice sounded hoarse but happy. Robert glanced at all three faces, and noticed Lewis’s didn’t match Helen’s or her sister’s expression of joy; his was more one of disappointment.
“I’m going to get you a proper ring,” Robert promised as he slipped the large washer over Helen’s thin finger.
“Oh, I don’t care,” Helen replied. “Who needs a ring? I’m happy with this.”
“Even if it gives you tetanus?”
“Even if it gives me tetanus.”
Robert had got Helen a ring two weeks later. He used the money he was saving for a new car, and had sold his collection of vintage fountain pens that once belonged to his great-grandfather.
***
Robert and Helen sailed out to the centre of the lake, towards a small, crumbling wooden structure.
The sun was now gone, having slipped behind the trees that surrounded the lake. That was fine. Robert could still see the wooden structure ahead. He stopped fifty yards from it and dropped the anchor. He had learned not to get too close; he didn’t want to snag on the structure work underneath.
With The Maple Lady anchored, Robert headed below deck to heat the ready-prepared tomato and basil sauce and cook the pasta. He pulled the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc (Helen’s favourite) from the mini-fridge and popped the cork, then grabbed himself a beer and hit Play on the CD player. The compilation he’d made earlier that week began playing the first track: Think Twice by Celine Dion.
After food, wine, many beers, and games of Texas Hold’em (the bounty played for bottle caps), they headed for bed. Robert had swapped the CD to one by Phil Collins, and the music was playing quietly from the kitchen area.
They kissed and undressed each other, then Robert climbed into bed. Helen walked to the bed and placed a foot on the mattress. The ankle bracelet that Robert had given her on their honeymoon in Venice sparkled under the dim florescent light. Helen was about to climb up onto the bed, but paused and turned her head towards the kitchen area.
“What is it?” Robert asked.
“I heard a—” A loud thump occurred on the side of The Maple Lady. “I thought you dropped the anchor!”
“I did.”
“Then what the hell was that?”
Voices!
“Stay here,” Robert said, pulling on his boxer shorts and heading for the door. The slim door leading out to the deck opened, and heavy footsteps entered. The intruders weren’t even attempting to be quiet.
Helen found her dressing gown and pulled it round her before following behind Robert.
“What do you think you are doing?” Robert said. The inside height of The Maple Lady stood at six feet and four inches; the width of the corridor was only three feet. The figure facing Robert looked as if he had become wedged into the thin space. The man’s neck was uncomfortably bent as his head exceeded the ceiling height, with his shoulders covering the area like some comedy act of a clown squeezing into a compact car.
There was also no way past this giant.
The intruder had a balaclava hiding his face, and was wearing a zipped-up black bomber jacket, black combat trousers and shiny black boots, along with leather gloves covering his hands. His neck was thick and exposed, and his face behind the balaclava looked square and strong. He didn’t speak; he just stood there staring at Robert with cold, menacing eyes, and growling angrily like a rabid dog.
“What are you—” Robert headed in the direction of the human roadblock in front of him, but his sentence was cut short as the man in black sprung a meaty fist towards Robert’s face. It made a smacking sound and hit him square in the nose. Robert felt as though he’d been hit by a cannonball. His nose popped, and blood burst from his nostrils as he fell to the floor.
Helen screamed and dropped to the floor behind him, trying to stop the bleeding by cupping a hand over his nose, as the attacker unzipped his jacket, reached inside and brought out a revolver.
The moon coming through the small circular windows of the cabin cruiser made the gun glimmer, though it looked like a water pistol in the giant’s gloved hand. Helen shrieked, and Robert held his arm up to shield the two of them from the bullet. As if this would have any effect.
“Don’t, please! W-what do you want?” Robert asked as blood ran from his nose. “Money? Do you want money?” Not that Robert had any money to offer, but it was all he could think of saying.
The giant didn’t answer. After a moment, he turned and looked out towards the deck.
Robert was staring up at the gun pointing towards his head. He had to act. He had to do something, anything. The attacker who’d boarded The Maple Lady wasn’t an opportunist looking for a quick steal. Not out in the middle of a lake like this. This man knew to come here. He’d even brought a gun, one he must be willing to use. To Robert, it meant only one thing: the intruder must have him and Helen confused with somebody else.
The intruder turned his head back towards the couple on the floor. He squeezed the handle of the gun, and it squelched against the leather glove. Then a thumping sound was heard, like something heavy being dropped outside on the wooden deck. The intruder turned away again, watching through the thin doorway.
Now is my chance, Robert thought. A second later, he kicked the intruder right between the legs. The man cried out and hunched over, his free hand cupping his groin. Robert grabbed for the gun and tried wrenching it free, pulling the person down by the coat so they were wrestling on the floor. “Helen, run… now!” he ordered. The intruder with the gun was strong. His fingers were wrapped around the handle as if it were a part of his hand.
Phil Collins was singing You Can’t Hurry Love on the CD player from the work surface.
“Now, Helen, run!” Robert screamed again. He was losing the fight. Helen stood and kicked the masked person in the head. It did nothing. The attacker barely groaned. She stepped onto his wide back and jumped over.
The attacker kicked out his leg and Helen tripped, crashing to the floor.
Robert’s attention was aimed purely on trying to free the revolver. The masked figure brought his head down hard, and it connected with the bridge of Robert’s nose. The blow was enough to daze him. Through a blurred vision, he watched as Helen tried standing, attempting to get away, but was stopped by the attacker’s hand on her ankle, pulling her back. The man got to his feet, shoved the gun into the pocket of the bomber jacket, and grabbed Helen by the midriff, lifting her easily into the air. He turned, facing the direction of the bedroom, and threw her over Robert. She landed in the room’s doorway, winded.
The intruder knelt over Robert. Robert held his hands up, lazily. The headbutt to his nose had made him dizzy.
***
Helen got to her feet and ran into the room, looking for a weapon, anything to use to fend off the attacker and save her husband. Robert’s jeans and shirt, along with Helen’s dress and underwear, were in a pile on the floor, but there was nothing suitable to use as a weapon.
“Fuck!” she hissed. Finally, she jumped onto the bed and leaned over to the bedside table, pulling out the drawer. It was hardly a weapon, but there really was nothing else. She turned and raced back to the corridor. Then she saw him.
Robert’s face was purple, his eyes bulging as his tongue was bitten between his teeth, protruding from his lips. The intruder was bending down and had his thick hands around Robert’s throat. Robert stopped fighting. His hands dropped to the floor as he went limp.
Helen froze as she stopped in the doorway, her eyes fixed on Robert’s face. “R… Robert… Robert?” she tried, but realised it was no use. Her husband was dead.
The attacker stood up, breathing heavily from the struggle, then stepped over Robert’s body and lumbered towards her.
Ten minutes later, The Maple Lady exploded.
Chapter 2
Lewis raced to be the first on the scene. After the call had come in that an explosion had occurred on Lake Windermere, he dropped his sandwich in his bag, binned his coffee, dived into the police car, switched on the sirens and put his foot down hard.
The roads were quiet, luckily, as Lewis was driving wildly. He cuffed the curb a few times and still didn’t slow down.
A call like this would usually mean his first bit of action on the job since he and Helen graduated from the training school a year ago. Most of the call-outs he attended consisted of petty crime: disturbances, or prank calls made by kids. But an explosion – that would be tasty. Only on this occasion, he dreaded it. He knew his friends were out on that lake, and neither of them were answering their phones.
“Either you put the phone away,” PC Fiona Calvo had said as she held onto her seat, “or at least let me drive the car.”
Lewis didn’t answer. He pressed Redial and waited for the call to connect, listened to the voicemail pick up the call, and tried again. When one of them didn’t answer, he tried the other’s phone. Nothing.
“It might not be your friends, Lewis,” Fiona said, as though trying to offer some kind of positivity to her partner.
“It’ll be them,” Lewis replied in a low voice. He flipped his phone closed and placed it back into his shirt pocket. “Helen said they’d be spending their anniversary out on the water tonight, and neither of them are answering.”
“Mate, it could be anyone,” Fiona argued. “Doesn’t necessarily mean it is them.”
Lewis shook his head. “Come on… I’d understand if they were asleep, but an explosion that big...” He took a turn, scraped the curb with the tyres and straightened himself on the road. “I bet it even woke residents in bleeding Kendal!” Lewis’s heart was racing wildly, and a sickly feeling rested in his stomach.
