CHAPTER THIRTEEN #3
Behind us, Andy shifts in his chair, sitting up a little straighter. “I might be able to help with that.”
We both turn to him.
“I’ve got access to facial recognition software,” he explains. “Same system the police use. If she’s on file anywhere, we might get a hit.”
“Do it,” I say.
Ten minutes later, we’re all huddled around the computer.
“We’ve got her,” Andy says, pulling up the screen.
A name flashes into view. Martha Stieger.
Dale leans in. “Where is she?”
“Manchester,” Andy replies. “She checked into a hotel the same day Anika died.”
The room goes still, just the sound of our breaths filling the space.
Dale looks at me. “We take this to the police. Now. We can’t risk Wynter taking the fall for this.”
I nod slowly. “I will,” I say. Then I grab my jacket. “But first, we talk to her.”
Martha Stieger isn’t very clever. And if Luke thought this was a good place to hide her, then he’s just as stupid. Everyone knows you don’t stay in one place when you’re running.
I knock on the hotel room door.
“Room service,” I call.
“I didn’t order room service,” she replies.
“Martha Stieger?” I ask. “Mr. Luke Malone arranged Champagne.”
There’s a pause, followed by a soft giggle.
“Oh.”
The lock clicks and the door opens, but the second she sees me, she tries to slam it shut again.
My foot wedges into the gap, and I force my way inside, quickly followed by Dale, who slams it shut behind us and locks it.
Her eyes dart around in panic. “How did you find me?” she breathes, backing up.
“Why are you hiding?” I ask, stepping further into the room.
“I’m not. I’m visiting family—”
“No,” I cut in coldly. “You’re hiding because you killed my friend.”
“I didn’t,” she cries, shaking her head wildly. “She wanted to—”
“Sit down,” Dale orders, grabbing her arm and pushing her onto the couch. “Start talking.”
“There’s . . . there’s something you need to hear,” she stammers, reaching for her handbag.
Dale moves fast, snatching it before she can surprise us with anything. He tips it upside down and the contents spills out across the table. She points to a phone.
“What’s this?” he asks, picking it up.
Martha swallows hard. “It’s . . . it’s a recording. From Anika . . . to you,” she says, her eyes locking on mine. My chest tightens. “She made me do it,” Martha continues, her voice trembling. “She asked me to hit record. She said it was important.”
I step closer. “When?”
“The night she died,” she says. “Before Luke came.”
I feel like the air’s left the room and I tug at my collar.
“She asked me to start recording and then leave the room,” Martha goes on. “Said she needed privacy. I didn’t hear what she said. I swear. I only listened to it after . . . after she died.”
My jaw clenches.
“And Luke?” I ask.
“He didn’t know,” she says quickly. “I didn’t tell him. I didn’t even remember it properly until after everything happened.”
“Why?” Dale presses.
“Because I was scared,” she blurts. “I didn’t think it mattered. I thought—” She chokes, shaking her head. “I thought she wanted to talk to you. I didn’t know . . .”
“You work for Luke,” I say, my voice low.
She nods. “All I did was open the door. I didn’t give her anything.”
“Then who did?” I snap.
“Luke,” she says. “Luke did. But only because she begged him. She wanted to die.” A sob escapes her. “At least, that’s what he said.”
The words hit, but I don’t react. Hearing them out loud feels surreal.
“So, why set Wynter up?” I ask, my voice dangerously calm.
Martha frowns. “I didn’t. That wasn’t part of it.” A beat passes before she adds, “Unless . . .” Her eyes widen slightly. “Unless Luke did.”
“Why would he?” Dale asks.
“To hurt you,” she says, looking straight at me. “He wanted to take something you loved.”
My jaw tightens. “He already did,” I growl.
Martha flinches. “Luke couldn’t get to her,” she rushes on. “You were always there. Or someone was watching. And when Wynter found out more about him, she told Anika she couldn’t go behind your back anymore.”
I freeze, feeling Dale’s eyes on me.
“So, he hired me,” Martha continues. “I let him in. I didn’t know what he was planning. He told me you were keeping him from the love of his life, the mother of his child, and I believed him.”
Her voice cracks. “When we found her . . . I didn’t understand. I was angry. But Luke told me she’d begged him, and she’d told me already that she felt low, like she didn’t want to be around.” She sighs. “I confronted Luke, demanded answers, but he told me to run. He said I’d get blamed.”
The room falls silent as we all process this mess. Eventually, I look up, inhaling sharply.
“Play it,” I say.
Dale hesitates, staring at me for further confirmation. I nod, and he hits play.
For a second, there’s nothing. Just static. And then her shaky voice fills the room, and I squeeze my eyes closed, ignoring the lump in my throat as tears threaten to fall.
“Ray . . .”
She sounds so fragile. Why didn’t I hear that in her tone that evening?
“I don’t know how to start this,” she whispers. “You always told me I talk too much, so I guess this is your lucky day.”
A weak laugh escapes me as I push to stand and wander over to the window.
“I know you’re going to be angry,” she says, her voice trembling now. “God, I can already see your face. You’re pacing, yeah? Swearing. Blaming everyone but me.”
Another laugh rips from me, almost choking me with emotion.
“I need you to stop that.”
There’s a beat of silence before she continues.
“I’m tired, Ray.”
The words are so quiet, I almost miss them.
“So fucking tired.”
My chest aches.
“I tried,” she continues, a little stronger now, like she needs me to believe her. “I really did. For you. For Sebastian. For all of it. You made this last year . . . bearable. You did that. Not Luke. Not anyone else. You.”
Her voice cracks. “But it’s not enough.” She exhales. “I wake up every day and can’t feel anything below my chest,” she whispers. “I can’t move. I can’t run. I can’t even hug my own son when he cries. Do you know what that does to a person?”
I close my eyes.
“Everyone keeps telling me I’m strong,” she says. “That I’m brave. That I’ll adapt.” She releases a bitter laugh. “I don’t want to adapt.”
It’s followed by more silence.
“I don’t want this life.”
I stuff my hands in my pockets and focus on the people moving on the streets below. I’m jealous of them, jealous they’re not here having to listen to this.
“I sit here and watch everyone come and go. Living. Laughing. Touching. Loving. And I’m just . . . stuck. Trapped in this body that doesn’t belong to me anymore.” Her breathing picks up. “I can’t do it, Ray. I can’t keep pretending I’m okay just to make you feel better.”
Her voice steadies slightly, like she’s moving on to more important things.
“I did something,” she says quietly.
My stomach drops, and I brace myself for her confession.
“And you’re going to hate me for it, but I need you to understand why.”
There’s another shift, then the next word slips out, her tone hard.
“Luke.” She gives an empty laugh. “Luke was never going to stop. Not with Sebastian. Not with me. He doesn’t love either of us, Ray. He never did. He just . . . takes. And takes. And takes until there’s nothing left.”
My hands curl into fists. “So, I gave him what he wanted.” She waits a beat before adding, “I told him I needed him. That I wanted to see him. That I was ready to fix things.”
My heart is pounding now.
“And you know Luke, all arrogance and fake smiles. For the first time, I saw him for what he was. And you were so right, Ray. He couldn’t wait to whisper poison in my ear.
To tell me how I’ve failed Seb, how I can’t offer him the life he needs.
He was right there, helping me decide my fate, and I let him believe he was the one to plant the seed.
” She laughs again. “He really thought he still had that kind of power over me.”
There’s a cold, broken laugh that doesn’t even sound like her. “He has no idea what I’ve done.”
Martha is sobbing now, her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking, and I daren’t even look at Dale.
“Wynter tried to stop me,” Anika continues, “which put a spanner in the works. After she let him in, which I’m certain you already know, she was conflicted, and I just knew she wasn’t going to do it again. She felt loyalty to you.”
I freeze.
“So, don’t you dare blame her for this.” The words are stronger now.
Commanding. “This was me, Ray. All me.” She clears her throat.
“And so, I had to go behind your back some more and have Luke hire a carer. He called and cancelled my usual nurse, then hired someone he knew to pose for the night. Her job was to let him in then leave us alone.”
Martha glances up, her tear-stained face red and puffy. “She knew nothing of any of this either.” Relief floods her as she sags back into the couch.
“And Sebastian . . .” Her voice breaks completely now.
“I’m so sorry.” A sob slips through. “I wanted to be his mum. I wanted that more than anything. But I’m not .
. . not like this.” She inhales sharply.
“You love him like he’s yours anyway. You always have.
From the moment he started kicking you through my stomach. ”
I laugh, it’s small and broken. “He chose you before he was even born. You’re his father, Ray, not by blood but by choice.
Just like us. Like me, you, and Dale. And so, I’ve rigged a DNA test. It’s amongst my belongings that Catherine is holding.
Say the word and Seb is yours, but please don’t feel any pressure.
There is none. I just know you love each other more than any father and son. ”
Hope swells in my chest.
“You and Wynter . . .” she continues and I still, turning back towards the room.
“I see it,” she says gently. “Even when you pretend you’re a cold-hearted bastard.
You love her. She makes you better. Softer.
And you need that, whether you like it or not.
Don’t push her away because of me, because of this.
It’s okay to let your guard down, Ray. She’s not going to break your heart. She’s not going to leave you.”
Her voice fades slightly, like she’s getting tired.
“There’s a separate recording on this phone.
It details everything—the abuse I suffered at the hands of Luke, the years of suffering that my therapist can back up, and the fact he helped me to die.
He used his wife’s supply of pain relief and anti-depressants.
It’s all detailed in the recording, so delete this one and take that to the police. ”
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. She’s worked this whole thing out by herself, and I never suspected a thing.
“I love you, Ray.” Her words are simple, but they hurt me more than anything. “I always will.”
There’s a long pause, then barely a whisper.
“Take care of our boy . . . and give him the family we never had.”