Page 33 of Between the Lies

Nina had been abducted by a rogue cop.

When Weatherby had told her to be ready for her entire life to change, Nina hadn’t suspectedthis. This man and the woman who’d handed him the car keys were either raving mad or had an ulterior motive. And interrogating her outside the confines of the law could only mean that their plan didn’t fall under the ‘legal’ category.

Pictures of being water-boarded, sleep deprived and starved came to mind. Would they torture her to get the answers they needed? Did she have the answers they wanted?

She cast a side glance at PC Robert Muller.

His forehead was crinkled, his eyes focused on the road. And those big hands held the steering wheel with such force, she wondered if he’d snap it off.

Robert’s large frame appeared almost compressed in the confines of the van. If anything, driving this van could be torture for him. His shoulder brushed Nina’s side, and his elbow kept smacking against the driver’s door. And yet he hadn’t said a word to her. If she thought about it, he hadn’t bound and gagged her either, so it wasn’t a proper abduction.

‘Where are we going?’

No response. He just pressed down on the accelerator a tad harder.

Nina turned her attention to the road. They were still in Glasgow, halting at a red light now, and headed towards the River Clyde.

On their left was Glasgow Green. In the November darkness, the park sat silent, streetlights illuminating the empty paths.

The traffic light changed, and Robert hit the accelerator again. They zoomed passed a group of lads waiting to cross then raced over the bridge that connected the city centre with Glasgow’s Gorbals. Nina admired the Clyde snaking underneath – this was one of her favourite views in the city – then sat back in her seat.

‘Where are we going?’ she asked again.

She had lived in the Southside of Glasgow before and enjoyed the vibrant area – new restaurants, shops, another large park, fun events. But Robert didn’t head south; instead, he swerved the van back up to cross the Clyde.

They headed into the city centre once more.

Nina shot Robert a ‘really?’ glance. His expression nor his discomfort had changed.

She cleared her throat. ‘Robert, what are we doing?’

They once again passed Glasgow Green, the courts and then climbed up the slight incline on the High Street. Once a shopping area, Glasgow’s High Street was now like any other street. A few shops carried out their business, the pub was busy with some sort of dress-up party, then there was the student accommodation, and…

Ingram Street. Nina’s heart jumped in her chest. She’d moved to a flat on Ingram Street from her previous residence. And then she’d jumped from this place to hotels in this area.

Her grip on the backpack at her feet tightened. Did he know her address? Had he found something in her flat?

Robert indicated left once again and entered a car park right in front of one of Glasgow’s popular murals. Nina studied the mural, alive with various animals, and then the legs of a giant wearing a kilt, plucking mushrooms.

Usually, you always found tourists snapping pictures underneath the man’s legs. But now night had swallowed the various animals, leaves and mushrooms painted on the wall.

Robert backed the car into a parking spot, so they sat staring at the work of art. Then he cut the engine and silence engulfed them. ‘I wanted to ensure we weren’t being followed.’

Nina blinked. ‘By your colleagues?’ She used that word deliberately. Could it be that Robert was working for the bad guys? A double agent of some sort?

Robert scoffed and muttered, ‘Colleagues,’ before draping his arm over the steering wheel and letting his head hit the seat rest. ‘No, by the friends of the man who just tried separating your head from the rest of your body.’

He faced her then, pinning her to the spot with his glare. ‘Nina Banerjee. You’ve upset some desperate people, haven’t you?’

‘I-I…’

He waved her off. ‘Let’s go.’

Nina opened her mouth to argue, to say she was heading away and while she appreciated him getting her out of the soup with the other police constable, she had to stay nimble. But the man was already out and shutting the door.

He stretched, and the jacket and T-shirt he wore rode up. The streetlight contoured his toned abs and gleamed over the happy trail heading down towards—Robert dropped his arms, and the jacket flopped around his waist again.

She cursed herself. This man was dangerous – to her safety and to her sanity.

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