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Chapter 93

Chapter 93

It had been an arduous, dangerous journey, but he had made it.

Since his release from custody, David Reynolds had been going quietly mad, racking his brains for a solution to the terrible bind he found himself in. His mood had soured further when his source at Southampton Central confirmed that Graham Armstrong had been arrested, the danger ramping up still further. Grace would be coming for him soon, there was no question about that, and this time there'd be no bail, no possibility of escape. He had to act fast .

Before he could do anything meaningful, he needed to shake off the surveillance officers who surrounded the house. He'd spotted a pair of officers out front, two out back, and he presumed there were at least four more in positions close by. Somehow he had to lead them away from the property, lifting the stranglehold on his movement, and there was only one way of doing that. Jackie had taken a little persuading, but she knew not to resist him when he had fire in his eyes, and she made a convincing decoy, being tall for a woman and as athletic and toned as her husband. Even so, there was no guarantee that their simple trick would work and Reynolds had watched with bated breath as Jackie had hurried down the path, head bowed. Pressed against the bedroom wall, he had his attention not on her, but on the car parked further up the road. Happily, as soon as she'd gone a short distance, one of the officers – was it Wilson? – had climbed out of the car and set off in pursuit, his colleague following moments later.

Abandoning his position, Reynolds had crossed the room, keeping close to the wall, before exiting onto the landing. Hurrying past Archie's room, whose door remained defiantly closed, Reynolds made his way to the back bedroom, teasing open the curtains to peer beyond the fence to the pathway beyond. Thankfully, this also appeared to be deserted.

Emboldened, he'd hurried downstairs, crawling across the kitchen floor and out into the utility room. Staying low, he grabbed a jacket and slinging it on, eased open the back door. Now he paused. This was the moment of maximum danger, when he broke out into the open for the first time, but something told him it was now or never, so closing the door quietly behind him, he crawled along the side access, pausing as he reached the garden. Once more, he scanned the scene in front of him, searching the trees for signs of life, but seeing no one, he pressed on, crawling down the back of the flower bed to the end of the garden. His hands were now dirty, his wrists scratched, but he didn't care. All that mattered now was his bid for freedom.

Reaching the back gate, he turned to look back at the house. To his surprise and horror, Archie was standing in the back bedroom. He'd opened the curtains and was staring at him, as if flagging his escape to any onlookers. He half expected his son to open the window, to cry out, but the boy just stood there, looking at him. Discomfited, Reynolds turned away, opening the back gate and peeking out. The alleyway beyond was lifeless and quiet, so he hurried on, making it into the woodland beyond in a matter of seconds.

Relieved, he proceeded now as if on autopilot, following the paths he knew so well, until eventually he emerged, tired and sweaty, on the back streets of Midanbury. Danger lay here too – a passing squad car, an alert colleague, could pass by at any moment – so pulling his cap down Reynolds hurried on, avoiding any human contact as he scurried to the fenced-off building that had become his home from home. Teasing open the dilapidated metal fence, he hurried on to the main entrance. Here he paused, glancing behind him to check he hadn't been followed, then teased the key into the padlock. Then, with one final look behind him, he stepped inside the gloomy building, pulling the door firmly shut behind him.

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