Page 37 of The Devil's Detail
“Carter, let's go for a walk.” Jackson stands next to me and rests a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You’ll feel better if you’re moving, and you can shout and scream at the waves, or me if you want. I’m sorry, Carter. So fucking sorry.” He tugs me from the chair, and I go without resistance.
We walk for miles in total silence, only the waves and the cries of the sea birds overhead break the quiet. But it’s not quiet in my mind. It’s noisy, so fucking loud, full of white noise. But I can’t get any sounds out of my throat. It feels like it’s constricting with each mile we walk. I also don’t know what to say. I was embarrassed that Jackson thought me an idiot in the first place. Well, now he’ll think I’m a total dunce.
But I trusted John. I’m only guilty of being a trusted friend and trusting him to be the same. He was a friend—a long-time friend. Steadfast with me through all sorts of things And now he’s shit on me like everyone else in my life. Taken from me, tried to steal by stealth.
The joke is, had he been honest about what he really wanted, I would have gladly given him more. But not now.
I swing from disbelief to sadness to frustration to anger… and finally, to hysterical laughing. But throughout all of it, Jackson remains at my side. A solid, calm presence.
It’s nice to have him here. I probably would have gone insane if he hadn’t come with me. He hasn’t pushed me to talk. He hasn’t offered any platitudes. He’s remained silent when I’ve asked rhetorical questions. He knows I don’t want any answers. He just continues to mirror my walk. His shoulder brushes mine, and when I feel his fingers brush mine, I’d give anything to be able to take his hand.
But that won’t happen. And it just impresses on me once again that I’m alone. Again. Nobody can help me, nobody wants to. My anger is taking hold, but I need to keep a lid on it. Ash and Jackson are worried enough. If I start to lose it, they’ll be babysitting me into next year.
I should be happy that at least he’s here. But at what cost? My dignity for sure. He’s seen how stupid I’ve been. How naive. He’s seen me at my lowest. And if he didn’t want me before, he definitely won’t want me now. And I think I’m more annoyed about that than fuckin’ John the con.
24
Jackson
“Where the fuck has Carter gone?”My tracking app on my phone is beeping like a manic heart rate monitor. I’ve hardly had any sleep, and had left Carter slightly catatonic, but at least conscious. He’d stress baked himself into oblivion. We’ll be eating all the Victoria sponges and cupcakes for years.
“Fuck knows,” Ash tells me over FaceTime. “He got a call and set off like a bat out of hell. I couldn’t get to him quick enough.” He sounds frantic.
I look at the cameras I set up in his home. “He’s gone in his own Mercedes. Fucking driving it himself. Follow him, Ash. You’ve got the trackers switched on, haven’t you?” He nods as he’s running for the car. “I’ll track him as well. Fucking runaway celebrities.” I grimace.
“I’ll check his phone log. I’ll bet it was John on the phone. Carter looked angry. His phone has been pinging all morning, so he switched it off. John must have been messaging him. I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Jackson.” He sounds grave.
“I’m on my way. Let's get there asap.”
I steam towards the Daisy Cafe, the trackers I planted in every car worth every penny, mulling over everything I’ve found out about John and his studio. Skidding into the parking lot, my eyes are immediately drawn to a body lying prostrate at the side of the building.
My heart rate slows down. The scene around me is running at a snail's pace. Every nuance of colour and sound hits me in slow motion. Ash, laid out. I’ve been here before, witnessed this scene before. My friend, my colleague, unconscious.
And then everything speeds up as I reach him. A groan, he’s alive. He’s trying to move, squinting his eyes as he tries to move his head. Aiding him as much as I can to sit up, I check the surroundings. Nobody is around, but there are tire marks in the dirt, as if someone has sped off quickly.
“Carter, he—” he groans again. I prop him up and pop my head to look at the Daisy Cafe windows.
Derek is behind the counter. I bang like hell on the window, hoping to get him to come out and call for help, then go back and tend to my friend.
“John, and Gary.” The two names I never want to hear ever again. “Took Carter.”
I stare down into Ash’s eyes. Has he been knocked senseless? What the hell does he mean ‘took Carter’.
“Took him, like kidnapped him?”
He nods, but winces. The paramedics who have arrived try to move me out of the way. They’re insisting he has to go to hospital. His head is a mess, and it won’t stop bleeding. It needs stitches.
“Go get him, Jackson. And take security back up. They’ve got help.”
As the medics load Ash into the ambulance, I call into the office to get someone to go to the hospital and stay with him. Asthey pull away, Baz, my driver, arrives at top speed and we waste no time in making a plan.
“How will you find him? Are you tracking his phone?” Baz is all business.
“It looks like they’ve dumped the phone,” I offer grimly. “They’d know I’d track him.” I hold up my phone, showing him the tracking data. The phone says it’s still here.
I switch apps and Baz grins at me. “You always were a sneaky fucker. What’s it in, his watch?”
I grin. “His mother gave him it. He hardly takes it off. He rather cut his hand off than let that go.” I smirk. I was in two minds at the time, but decided to risk it. I’m glad I did now. “Let’s go, I have the coordinates.”
