Chapter 54
Fifty-Four
ROMAN
Roman stands in the Coach House hallway, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He should never have come here. He definitely shouldn’t have said those things out loud to Emily.
Back in the kitchen, Emily is a pale, collapsed shape sitting against the kitchen island. She told him to get out, and the enormity of what he’d done—the mistake he’s made in telling her the truth of what he knew and what he’d found—has left him frozen, afraid of what she might do.
The phone vibrates in his pocket. Sanj again.
Mate, where ru?
He silences his phone and pushes it back into his pocket.
He looks back towards the kitchen. Would it be worth trying to speak to Emily again? Convince her to let him show her exactly what he’s found. Tell her about GRN_DoR so she realizes she might not be safe here alone . . .
He almost jumps out of his skin when the doorbell rings.
Lara Walker-Dent stands outside with her phone in her hand, a floral apron tied around her waist, like she’s been yanked out of a cooking show. Her face shifts when she spots him standing there rigidly through the glass.
‘Roman, is that you?’ Lara says briskly. ‘What’s going on?’
He is always brilliantly confident when he’s behind a monitor. Words, code, logic . . . they all give him power. Face to face, he’s just another lanky kid with sweat patches forming under his arms.
He opens the door.
‘It . . . it’s Emily,’ he manages, indicating behind him. ‘She almost fainted. I was just coming to get you.’
Lara doesn’t hesitate for even half a second. She barges past him into the house, her phone in her palm, thumb hovering over the screen.
‘Is she OK?’
‘Yes,’ Roman blurts, instantly hating how that sounds. ‘She’s OK, just a bit dazed, I think.’
Lara shoots him a look and heads for the kitchen. ‘Emily?’
Roman’s throat tightens because of what might happen if all this blows up.
The police might get involved, and they’ll have lots of questions. Roman had been inside the Coach House giving Emily precise details of the stuff he’d been getting up to. Illegal stuff.
If anyone official turns up, they will look at him and see exactly what he is.
A problem.
He stands at the kitchen door. Emily is still pale, and staring into the middle distance. Roman says, ‘I think it was the shock.’
Lara lets out a noise of frustration. ‘Help me get her to the sofa.’
He shakes his head too fast. ‘I can’t . . . I have to go.’
Lara’s gaze narrows, suddenly sharpening. Roman sees her clock his posture, the way his shoulders are braced as if for impact. He looks away.
Then Emily speaks. Her voice sounds thin and hoarse, like it’s being pulled out of her. ‘I’m fine. I don’t need help.’
Roman breathes out. Relaxes his fist inside his pocket.
‘You’re not fine,’ Lara says, no-nonsense. ‘You’re on the floor, completely out of it. Roman said you collapsed. What happened?’
Emily says quietly, ‘I didn’t faint. I just . . . I had a shock.’
‘Lara glances up when Roman shuffles in the doorway.
‘I shouldn’t have let Roman in,’ Emily whispers.
Roman flinches at the mention of his name.
A beat of silence, then Lara’s voice goes tight.
Lara’s head whips around, and she glares at him. ‘What did you do, Roman?’
Roman’s stomach coils. ‘I just came to check she was OK.’
‘Emily. Look at me,’ Lara strokes her arm. ‘What did he do?’
He can hear Emily breathing now, like she’s trying to regulate herself. ‘He told me things.’
‘I never! I didn’t. Emily?’ But she won’t look at him.
‘What did he tell you? About who?’
Emily pinches the top of her nose. ‘He hacks people. He knows stuff about us all. About everyone who lives on Orchard Lane.’
Roman opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He feels like he’s going to throw up.
‘Does he now?’ Lara turns around slowly, her eyes like lasers on his face.
Roman’s stomach seems to drop through his body like a stone through water. For a moment, he can’t hear anything apart from the ringing in his ears.
‘She’s confused,’ he manages to say, taking a step back into the hallway. ‘Emily’s got it wrong.’
Lara’s voice is suddenly quiet, dangerous. ‘How did Roman find this out, Emily? Exactly?’
Emily’s reply is barely more than a whisper, but it hits Roman like a punch.
‘He hacked my email.’
Tiny bright speckles dance in front of Roman’s eyes. In his head, a frantic chain of calculations fires off.
If Lara calls the police and tells them, they’ll come immediately. With Vanessa Lambert’s death, they’ll be here like a shot, and if they know exactly where to look, his clever little walls might as well be made of tissue paper.
Lara stands up slowly. She looks at Roman as if he’s something she’s just found under a stone.
‘Is it true?’ she asks calmly. ‘Have you hacked the emails of everyone on Orchard Lane, including mine and Tim’s?’
Roman shakes his head.
‘No,’ he says. ‘That’s insane.’
‘Then explain how you know things about Oliver that even the police aren’t aware of.’
‘I didn’t hack anyone,’ he says, backing further down the hallway. ‘People talk. You’d be amazed what you can pick up just by paying attention.’
Lara doesn’t move. ‘And Emily’s email?’
Roman swallows. ‘I didn’t hack them. I swear. I lied to impress Emily. I was an idiot.’
‘You are a child,’ Lara says quietly. ‘And you are way out of your depth, meddling in a murder investigation.’
Roman feels something snap inside him. Anger flares, sharp and hot.
For a second, he considers saying more. Enlightening her about the stuff her husband gets up to behind her back. But she hasn’t mentioned calling the police, so maybe he should cut his losses and get out of here.
He bolts.
Outside, the late-morning light feels too bright. When he reaches the pavement, he glances up the lane.
The car is still there. The driver is watching him.