For the Sake of the Children: The first Chloe Webster thriller (Chloe Webster Thrillers Book 1) by Alex Highcliffe

told you before not to call me out of the blue. What do you want?’ His voice was hushed but angry. He had no qualms about letting these guys know when he was unhappy.
    ‘Yeah, sorry mate, you know I wouldn’t call unless it was urgent. There’s a package coming from Hull as we speak and I need you to collect it. It was all done on a need to know basis to be honest so I couldn’t let you in on it any sooner.’
    ‘Hull?’ The Timer was immediately on edge. It had always been Liverpool. ‘Why Hull?’
    ‘Yeah, yeah, don’t worry, it’s the same operation. Just find the truck and get the goods out the back. I’ll text you the plate.’ Silence. The Timer waited. ‘There is one small complication. The package is a little, shall we say, bigger than normal, so make sure you’ve got a decent set of wheels. You’ll probably want a boot, you know, a saloon. Something you can hide the goods in. At least it’ll be nice and dark out there so you’ll have plenty of cover.’
    This was doing nothing to quell the uneasiness that the Timer was feeling. He appreciated the regularity of the work he received from Drabble, and he was well paid for it, but he didn’t like risk or uncertainty.
    ‘Is there something you’re not telling me Jez?’ he said at last.
    ‘Don’t be daft, T, you’ll be fine. Same old routine.’
    ‘How about a little extra to compensate for my nerves?’
    Jez laughed. ‘I’ve never seen you nervous about anything. Go on then, how about an extra ten per cent to calm you down.’
    ‘Thirty, or you find someone else.’ He didn’t like this one bit, and Jez was being overly friendly and confident about the whole thing, which just added to his doubts.
    ‘Christ T, Drabble will have my balls off. Twenty per cent is the most I can do.’
    ‘Done. Text me the plate. M62, I assume?’
    ‘Yeah. Nice one.’
    The Timer hung up. Six grand for a night’s work, not too shabby at all .
    ‘Everything all right dear?’ asked his wife as he poked his head round the door of the lounge.
    ‘Yeah, it’s all good. I need to go out for a while, but I should be back by midnight. Don’t worry about me, just get yourself off to bed. I’ll see you later. Say goodnight to the girls for me.’
    He collected his usual equipment and made his way up to the main road to catch a bus towards town. He needed a car but he would never consider taking one from near where he lived.
    Don’t shit where you eat, his father had always told him.

36                  
     
    Chloe stood looking out over the garden as she tidied the kitchen after their evening meal. The dark night and the bright kitchen light meant that she could only see vague outlines of the small, neat garden beyond her own reflection. She was finding it difficult to clear her mind of all the things that had happened at work, something she never used to have a problem with. She knew that her chosen career would always include a substantial amount of stress, and the best coping mechanism was to try to forget about it all when she wasn’t there, but for some reason she couldn’t seem to do that. It was probably the fact that she was in a new job, coupled with the rather testing matters she had been dealing with. But she knew one thing – she didn’t like it at all. The pressure and the strain nagged at her consistently, undermining her self-confidence and making her doubt her next move.
    ‘Penny for your thoughts?’ enquired her father, who was still sitting at the kitchen table.
    ‘Oh, I’ve got a lot on my mind at the moment. Work stuff, you know? I just can’t shift it. Underlying stress I guess they’d call it. I’d call it bloody annoying.’
    ‘Why don’t you have a glass of wine? That’ll help you to relax I’m sure.’ Her father smiled at her. ‘Works for me every time.’
    ‘That’s not a bad idea, dad.’ She pulled a bottle of white from the fridge and poured them both a large glass. ‘I’m dealing with this case