Ultimate Weapon by Chris Ryan Read Free Book Online
Authors: Chris Ryan
was not just her perfume, but her clothes, her books and the scented candles she liked to keep beside her bed. ‘You might as well kip here for the night,’ said Lana. ‘It’s not as if Sarah would mind you being in her bed.’
Jed sat down on the edge of the bed. From the sitting room, he could hear the sound of
Ally McBeal
being turned up. More boyfriend problems. He got up and put his kitbag down in the corner, closing the door behind him. He glanced down at the desk, but could see nothing of interest. Sarah travelled light through life: unlike just about every other woman he had ever known, she had none of the clutter that most girls carted around with them. There were no chequebook stubs to lookat. No bank statements, or maps. If she had planned where she was going, she hadn’t left any traces behind.
This doesn’t feel right, he told himself, as he took off his sweatshirt and lay back on the familiar white sheets.
Where the hell is she?
FOUR
Lana paused as she opened the door. In the background, there was a smell of fresh coffee, and the sound of music playing on the hi-fi. ‘Any word from her?’ said Nick.
It was just after nine in the morning. Nick had been up since seven, and had already taken himself for a run along the river: as his feet smashed into the pristine grass along the banks, he had been trying to make sense of what he’d learnt about Sarah in the past twenty-four hours. He knew nine o’clock was early to be calling on a student, but sod it, he had told himself just before knocking.
I need to find out what might have happened to her
.
‘No,’ said Lana, still holding the door no more than ajar.
Nick was about to step inside, but she seemed to be barring his way. ‘I thought I’d check her room,’ he said. ‘See if there are any clues.’
‘Maybe later,’ said Lana defensively.
Nick was still thinking about the hundred thousand pounds he’d seen in their joint bank account. He knew there were lots of different ways a person could make that kind of money quickly. The trouble was, almostnone of them were legal. The sooner he found her the better.
There might not be much time
.
‘You don’t understand,’ said Nick gruffly. ‘I need to check it right now.’
He stepped forward. Nick was a big man, with an imposing physical presence. His hair was turning grey but there was still plenty of it. He measured six foot two, and his chest was fifty inches, thick and strong like a barrel. His arms were solid as oak trees, and rippled with muscles, and there was not so much as an ounce of fat on him. Lana was a slim girl, only about five foot four, and as he moved forward he just brushed her aside like a feather floating past him.
‘You should …’
She was speaking, but Nick wasn’t listening. He turned the knob on the door to Sarah’s room, pushing it open. Then he paused. There was a man lying on her bed. For a brief second, he wondered if he might have come into the wrong room. Maybe this was Lana’s boyfriend. Then he noticed Sarah’s stuff – there was even a picture of him tucked into the mirror on the desk. And he recognised Jed. Even lying down, with his back to him.
I’ve known and hated that boy for a decade. I’d spot his ugly hide anywhere
.
‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ he shouted.
Jed snapped awake. He swung over and looked up suddenly, as if he’d just heard the sound of gunfire. Regiment training, thought Nick. A man had to be awake, alert and ready for battle within just a fraction of a second.
Sometimes his life would depend on it
.
‘Fuck, it’s you,’ he muttered.
‘I want to know what the hell you’re doing in my daughter’s bed,’ snarled Nick.
‘Trying to get some kip,’ snapped Jed. ‘I’m alone, in case you hadn’t noticed.’
‘Good to see everyone’s getting along so well,’ said Lana. ‘How about a nice cup of coffee? Maybe then we can all calm down.’
Nick followed her to the kitchen. He took the cup from her,
Jed sat down on the edge of the bed. From the sitting room, he could hear the sound of
Ally McBeal
being turned up. More boyfriend problems. He got up and put his kitbag down in the corner, closing the door behind him. He glanced down at the desk, but could see nothing of interest. Sarah travelled light through life: unlike just about every other woman he had ever known, she had none of the clutter that most girls carted around with them. There were no chequebook stubs to lookat. No bank statements, or maps. If she had planned where she was going, she hadn’t left any traces behind.
This doesn’t feel right, he told himself, as he took off his sweatshirt and lay back on the familiar white sheets.
Where the hell is she?
FOUR
Lana paused as she opened the door. In the background, there was a smell of fresh coffee, and the sound of music playing on the hi-fi. ‘Any word from her?’ said Nick.
It was just after nine in the morning. Nick had been up since seven, and had already taken himself for a run along the river: as his feet smashed into the pristine grass along the banks, he had been trying to make sense of what he’d learnt about Sarah in the past twenty-four hours. He knew nine o’clock was early to be calling on a student, but sod it, he had told himself just before knocking.
I need to find out what might have happened to her
.
‘No,’ said Lana, still holding the door no more than ajar.
Nick was about to step inside, but she seemed to be barring his way. ‘I thought I’d check her room,’ he said. ‘See if there are any clues.’
‘Maybe later,’ said Lana defensively.
Nick was still thinking about the hundred thousand pounds he’d seen in their joint bank account. He knew there were lots of different ways a person could make that kind of money quickly. The trouble was, almostnone of them were legal. The sooner he found her the better.
There might not be much time
.
‘You don’t understand,’ said Nick gruffly. ‘I need to check it right now.’
He stepped forward. Nick was a big man, with an imposing physical presence. His hair was turning grey but there was still plenty of it. He measured six foot two, and his chest was fifty inches, thick and strong like a barrel. His arms were solid as oak trees, and rippled with muscles, and there was not so much as an ounce of fat on him. Lana was a slim girl, only about five foot four, and as he moved forward he just brushed her aside like a feather floating past him.
‘You should …’
She was speaking, but Nick wasn’t listening. He turned the knob on the door to Sarah’s room, pushing it open. Then he paused. There was a man lying on her bed. For a brief second, he wondered if he might have come into the wrong room. Maybe this was Lana’s boyfriend. Then he noticed Sarah’s stuff – there was even a picture of him tucked into the mirror on the desk. And he recognised Jed. Even lying down, with his back to him.
I’ve known and hated that boy for a decade. I’d spot his ugly hide anywhere
.
‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ he shouted.
Jed snapped awake. He swung over and looked up suddenly, as if he’d just heard the sound of gunfire. Regiment training, thought Nick. A man had to be awake, alert and ready for battle within just a fraction of a second.
Sometimes his life would depend on it
.
‘Fuck, it’s you,’ he muttered.
‘I want to know what the hell you’re doing in my daughter’s bed,’ snarled Nick.
‘Trying to get some kip,’ snapped Jed. ‘I’m alone, in case you hadn’t noticed.’
‘Good to see everyone’s getting along so well,’ said Lana. ‘How about a nice cup of coffee? Maybe then we can all calm down.’
Nick followed her to the kitchen. He took the cup from her,