Sisters - Michelle Frances Page 0,71
out at the water, allowing the sun to dry him off. After a few minutes he heard footsteps behind him and stiffened. He wasn’t in the mood to speak to Susanna.
He turned and was surprised to see Lieutenant Colonel Baroni heading towards him, the sun glinting off her shades and her regulation belt buckle. She arrived at the platform, resplendent in her uniform, and looked down at his crotch area. He was suddenly reminded he’d gone swimming in his underwear. He didn’t flinch. Let her disapprove. He held position, reclining back on the flats of his hands. Waiting for her to speak. Just then his phone rang in the pocket of his shorts.
‘You can answer it,’ said Baroni and Matteo bristled. He did not need her permission. Still, he pulled out his phone and saw it was a number he didn’t recognize.
Somehow he knew.
‘If that’s Abby,’ said Baroni quickly, seeing the look on his face, ‘then you need to find out where she is.’
He almost didn’t answer, but the need to speak to his wife was too strong. He swiped right.
‘Pronto.’
‘Hey.’
She sounded subdued, but it was so good to hear her voice he broke into a spontaneous smile. Baroni was looking at him, searching for confirmation. He gave the briefest of nods.
‘Are you OK?’ he asked Abby.
‘Yes, fine. We’re both fine.’
Matteo glanced up to see Baroni finishing off writing something in her notepad and thrusting the page at him.
Where is she?
He turned away, but nevertheless asked the question. ‘Where are you?’
Abby hesitated. ‘Are you on your own?’
His heart stopped. Did he cross over the line?
‘Yes.’
He heard her exhale with relief. An exhausted, dispirited breath. ‘A place called Saint-Jean-de-Luz,’ she said. ‘Almost on the Spanish border.’
Matteo swallowed, weighed down by his betrayal. ‘Saint-Jean-de-Luz?’ he repeated out loud. ‘So you’re in France?’
‘Yes. The police . . . they’ve been leaving me messages.’
He started. ‘They’ve got your number? This number?’ He turned to Baroni, who was busy on her mobile, searching urgently for something. She looked up at his words, clocked his frown, but simply shrugged at him, then went back to her phone.
‘I must’ve been on CCTV at a retail park. No doubt the guy in the phone shop had to hand over my new number. Although, I’m still not sure how they managed to locate me so quickly.’
Because your sister rang your still-alive mother from a payphone at that retail park, thought Matteo.
‘You’re probably wondering what’s going on?’ said Abby.
He let out a strangled laugh. ‘You could say that.’
‘Susanna – my mother – hurt Ellie as a child. I told Ellie all about it. It ended in a fight. Nothing deliberate,’ she quickly added, ‘but Ellie pushed Susanna away and she fell. Hit her head. There was nothing we could do. I’m sorry you had to come home to that.’ She took a breath. ‘What do the police think happened?’
‘They don’t know for sure.’
‘But they suspect foul play?’
Matteo ducked her question. ‘What messages have the police been leaving you?’
‘Oh, you know: “We can help.” “Please contact us.” “Let’s talk.” All the usual.’
Baroni was tapping him on the shoulder. He turned to see her holding up her notepad.
Tell her to go to Hernani. The Palacio Hotel. Tell her you’ll meet her there. That you will help.
He pushed the paper away, shook his head angrily.
‘Do you know if they’re close to finding us?’ asked Abby.
‘They’re not telling me much,’ said Matteo. ‘What are you going to do?’
‘I can’t let Ellie go down for our mother’s death. It’s not right.’
Baroni was tapping him again. More forcefully this time. He turned. She held her notebook out at arm’s length. This time she’d written in capital letters and underlined:
ASSISTING AN OFFENDER
She was giving him a long, hard look. The bitch. He closed his eyes, knew he’d walked into a trap of his own making. He wouldn’t just lose his job; he’d be up in court as well, facing a jail sentence.
‘Let me help,’ he said, almost choking on the words.
‘What?’
‘I know that area of northern Spain where you’re headed. There’s a hotel in a place called Hernani. It’s called the Palacio. Go there and wait for me. I’ll get to you as soon as I can. I’ll check the flights. I can be there by tomorrow, I’m certain of it.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘Yes.’
‘But your job . . . won’t this put you in a really difficult position?’
‘I’ve already lied to them,’ said Matteo. And you, he added silently, his heart splitting.
Abby was quiet for a moment. ‘OK.’
‘Turn