Meagan had her eye on someone; he seemed perfect. She’d kept hidden, observing him, watching. She knew where he lived, what he liked, what he ate. While standing behind him at a cash point, he jabbed in his PIN. He requested a receipt that showed his balance, then he got distracted, removing his cash but leaving the printed receipt hanging from the machine.
Meagan watched him disappear into the crowd, knowing how much he had in his bank account. It was so easy observing people and monitoring their behaviour; you can get into anyone’s life. You’d be amazed at the stuff people throw into their bins: folded up pieces of paper, telephone bills, electric bills, bank details, money they owe, places they visit.
That morning at the train station, a tall, good-looking guy introduced himself. Meagan just had to play the game and act like the perfect victim.
The stage was set. Meagan was slowly starting to show interest in Oliver, leading him on then playing hard to get; exchanging numbers, telling him she worked as a nanny, her excuse for meeting more often on their commute to work, calling him and making out she was worried that her neighbour had killed someone.
Meagan had invented a character so believable that she was almost convinced herself.
She met with Oliver while Rob was out of the country, convincing him to kill her husband with the promise they’d be together. This was the part Meagan was most concerned about. She knew how difficult it would be to convince someone to commit murder, so she and Phil planned it carefully. Meagan had to act desperate as if her life depended on it. Rob helped in a perverse kind of way; the cuts she suffered at the hands of her husband were very much real, proving that he was a wicked human being.
Before Oliver arrived to poison Rob, she had swapped the door number on her apartment, number six, with apartment seven, which was empty. And so apartment six became apartment seven.
It was perfect. Phil broke in and waited in the bedroom upstairs, face down on the bed, while Meagan left what Oliver believed to be an autoinjector containing poison in the basement.
It was all played out in the vacated apartment next door to where Meagan lived, but as she waited in the café, she turned her phone on, and received a message from Rob while he was still in Spain. She’d never planned on bringing Oliver into her apartment, but realising her husband would be staying in Spain for an extra night, she quickly set it up for Phil to make a phone call, posing as Rob and telling her he wouldn’t be returning today. Oliver knew no different. It was the icing on the cake to convince Oliver he’d broken into the wrong apartment and killed the wrong man.
While they lifted the body into the trunk, Meagan made out she was going to look for a chain to secure it, while instructing Oliver to go home and get the car.
While he was gone, Phil stepped out of the trunk, and the plan was in full swing. They loaded the trunk with bricks wrapped in cloth.
Meagan and Oliver brought the trunk to the reservoir, and while Oliver rolled it into the water, Meagan stood behind him, recording everything. Evidence for blackmail.
All Meagan needed to do was torment Oliver, asking him over and over to kill her husband and finish what he started.
Phil watched Oliver closely, keeping tabs in case he really did try to kill Rob.
Once Meagan sent the video to Oliver’s phone, they knew he’d panic, and this would drive him into their hands.
Meagan and Phil worked convincingly together: he’d ring the buzzer when she spoke on the phone with Oliver, or provide a voice out in the communal hall, thumping on the front door, stomping around outside while Meagan pretended she was worried about gloved-man’s partner.
The only problem they hit was when Meagan went over to Oliver’s apartment. She brought some rope and placed it around her neck. She’d planned to make a racket in the communal hall, then stand on the side rail, pretending she was about to jump. As Oliver came out, she got more into the character. As she stood on the handrail, ready for his pity, her leg slipped and she fell, almost breaking her neck.
Rob was easy to deal with. Meagan had contacts, people who dealt in everything from a dodgy passport to heroin. She had bags of cocaine delivered to the club, paying for everything on Rob’s credit card. She made a copy of Rob’s key, giving the delivery driver the code to disarm the security system.
Once the shipment had been planted in a storeroom out the back, Meagan made a call to the police. It would be enough to see Rob arrested and the club closed down for good.
The final piece of the puzzle was working out how to force Oliver into a corner. They’d planned on staging a kidnap, with Meagan tied up, bound and gagged. But Meagan had seen Oliver the previous night with Claire, and they worried he may not come to Meagan’s aid. So they decided to take Claire.
It was the tipping point, and Oliver made the transfer.
As soon as the money appeared in their account, they ran.
Phil made out he’d beaten Meagan to a pulp at the basement door, with a large pole that he whacked against the mud bank.
Meagan hadn’t planned on making love with Oliver, but the passion and excitement was too much. She saw the wheels turning and the pound signs were so close. At that moment when they had sex, it was real, and it meant something. Meagan was attracted to him, that much she’d admit: no one said she wasn’t human.
Phil parked his beaten-up truck in the car park of Stansted Airport, dumping it with the keys in the ignition. A few hours later, they were drinking cocktails in Paris.
Gabriel Thomas stood on the platform, wiping the rain from his coat. It was a drizzly Thursday morning in Paris and the Metro rush hour was in full swing.
The train pulled into the station, the driver eyeing him, looking bored.
Gabriel turned, stepping back from the platform, waiting for the train to stop, the wind from the tunnel tossing his hair forward. He was dressed impeccably, wearing a long brown coat, smart black trousers and a white shirt. He gripped a briefcase tightly in his right hand.
As the passengers pushed off the train, he noticed a woman standing next to him. She had her head down, slumped forward, looking like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. Gabriel stepped closer to the train, moving his arm and banging it against the woman next to him. She looked up and Gabriel noticed the cuts on her face, her split lip.
‘I’m so sorry. Are you okay?’ he asked, watching as she forced a smile, noticing her eyes and the sadness behind them. She was beautiful, elegant, and completely breathtaking. He observed her as she boarded the train through the crowd, disappearing into the barrage of people. Gabriel followed, moving forward, pushing through the commuters. He gripped the handrail overhead as the train pulled off. As he steadied himself, he saw her and was certain she directed a smile towards him. Gabriel wanted so badly to talk to her. He smiled back, thinking he’d literally kill for a woman like that.
Acknowledgements
I’d like to thank the wonderful admin and members of The Fiction Cafe Book Club, The Reading Corner Book Lounge and Page Turners Book Nook. You have all helped me on my journey and I’m forever grateful to all of you. Love you guys.
Finally, thank you to Betsy and the amazing team at Bloodhound Books for believing in me and giving me the opportunity to show my work to so many people. I’ll be forever grateful to the Bloodhound team and I can’t thank you all enough.
I love to speak with my readers and will always get back to you. Please get in touch if you have any questions or would like to find out about future thrillers I’m working on.