by Kerry Watts
‘He’s better, but not as much as it might look.’ She nodded at Andrew as she whispered, ‘I’m still undecided whether he’s ready to talk to you, but he’s keen. Don’t stay long.’
‘I won’t, don’t worry. And you can stay too.’
Dylan reassured her, but if he was being honest, he would be more comfortable if she was nearby. He pulled out a chair opposite Andrew. Andrew nibbled his nails, then fixed Dylan with a silent, emotionless stare.
‘How are you doing, Andrew?’ Dylan said tentatively, and his words were answered with a shrug.
He opened his notebook and clicked his pen on. Then he inhaled a large, deep breath. He knew exactly what this interview meant to the investigation.
‘Do you remember seeing Shannon Ross the night she disappeared? It was the night you were brought here.’
He waited and watched Andrew blink slowly and lift his thumb to wipe away a drop of saliva that had gathered in the corner of his mouth.
‘I remember.’ He spoke slowly, and it was clear it was a struggle to talk through his medication.
‘That’s good. How did she seem to you?’
‘She’s a good lass, Shannon. She gets me my bread and milk sometimes when I can’t manage. She’s not like the others. I know what they’re up to.’ Andrew Foster’s eyes bore into Dylan as he tapped his head. ‘They don’t know their plan has been discovered.’
Then Andrew stopped talking. Instead he muttered something under his breath, closed his eyes and sighed. ‘I’m sorry,’ he finished in a murmur.
‘What are you sorry for?’ he asked.
‘I didn’t mean to push her so hard, but she was fussing, you know. I was confused, but it’s clearer now. The fog has lifted a bit, but not completely. Some patches are still hazy.’
Dylan’s heart raced. Was Andrew about to confess? Was it really going to be this easy? He pursed his lips but couldn’t stop the involuntary bounce of his knee that he got when he was nervous.
‘OK, tell me what bits you can remember.’
‘I think I caught her lip with my nail and I cut her. I had to stop her fussing. She was in my face. I had to push her away, but I didn’t mean to hurt her. I just had to escape. She was stifling me. She looked like she’d been punched but I swear I didn’t hit her. I wouldn’t hurt Shannon, I wouldn’t. The look on her face when she ran out, I’ll never forget it. She even dropped her phone. I should have gone after her to make it right, but I was so mixed up. My head was so cloudy, I couldn’t think.’ Andrew slapped his head twice.
Dylan glanced at Andrew’s fingernails. They were long and ragged. Andrew’s version of events sounded plausible, but Dylan wasn’t sure if a cut lip was enough to spill blood on the floor.
‘After she left, the voices screamed. They were so loud. They told me that if I stabbed myself they would stop, but they only laughed so I ran outside. I don’t remember much after that.’ He shrugged.
‘So you don’t have any idea where Shannon is now?’
Andrew sighed, then shook his head. ‘I’m sorry.’
Another patient crashed open the dining room door and startled Andrew, who quickly scraped his chair backward to stand. Dylan barely got the chance to thank him for his help before he fled with the charge nurse a few paces behind him. He tucked his notebook away. He offered the new arrival a half-smile which was met with an eerie frown. By the time Dylan was in his car, he was relieved to be out of there.
Jessie sipped on her second cup of coffee. Starbucks it certainly wasn’t, but it was passable.
10th October
I’m so happy I could burst. Being alone with him again today filled my tummy with the kind of butterflies only love can bring. Or is it lust, I don’t know. I’ve never felt so strongly about anyone before and I know he feels the same way. Our love will have to stay hidden for now. People won’t understand. When he lays his hands on me I feel so alive.
When she’d worked missing persons cases in the past, diaries were an important tool of the trade, but Shannon’s was startling. Jessie quickly realised that there was far more to this quiet town than first appeared. First on her list was a visit to Eric Baldwin. Perhaps he could shed some more light on the revelations, being Shannon’s best friend.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jessie was greeted at the door by a tall, slim woman with flecks of blue paint in her black hair and a strong German accent, who smiled warmly.
‘Can I help you?’
‘I’m DI Jessie Blake. I was wondering if I could have a word with your son, Eric. Is he in?’
‘Of course, please come in.’
Agatha Baldwin opened the door wide and Jessie wiped her feet on the doormat, which she noticed read Willkommen; she thought that was cute.
‘Eric!’ Agatha called upstairs.
When she got no response, she pointed to the door at the end of the hall before heading upstairs.
‘Go through. He might be wearing his headphones. I’ll go and get him for you.’ As she said it, she tapped her ears.
Jessie admired the paintings on the living room wall while she waited. The landscape watercolours were stunning. She recognised it as Queen’s View, a little way up the road, a popular tourist spot overlooking the river Tummel. A visit from Queen Victoria had been the reason for the name. Agatha had captured the light beautifully and the breadth of the view, which was breathtaking.
Agatha took a seat opposite Jessie and could see that Eric’s smile betrayed his anxiety when he pushed open the living room door to join them before flopping onto the sofa, his head down.
‘Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble,’ Jessie reassured him. ‘Don’t look so worried.’
‘I know,’ he answered solemnly. ‘This is about Shannon, isn’t it?’
‘It is, yes. Well, more about her diary, actually.’ Jessie nodded.
‘Her diary?’ Eric’s confusion was instant.
‘You didn’t know she kept a diary?’
Eric shrugged. ‘I know she was always writing, but not a diary. I thought she was writing a novel or something.’
Jessie had found no evidence of a novel. ‘Is she?’
‘Yes, it’s about government conspiracy or a cover-up or something. She’s really excited about it.’ Eric’s smile faded. ‘You haven’t found her yet, have you?’
Jessie sighed. ‘Not yet, but we’re doing everything we can. What can you tell me about Shannon’s relationship with Calum Bailey and Rob Taylor?’
‘What do you mean, relationship? Mr Bailey is our drama teacher and Rob is her dad’s best mate.’
Eric was terrified his own friendship with Calum was in the diary. It would be catastrophic for Calum if their friendship was revealed. They had never been physical, so he had done nothing wrong. Calum understood what Eric was going through, that was all.
‘Is it possible that Shannon was in a physical relationship with either of them, or both?’ Jessie quizzed him.
The explicit nature of Shannon’s writing had left very little to the imagination.
Eric screwed up his face.
‘No, absolutely not, she wasn’t like that.’ Eric knew for a fact that she couldn’t be having a relationship with Calum, but he didn’t dare say. ‘Shannon was a dreamer. She had a wild imagination. She must have made it up.’
‘You keep talking about Shannon in the past tense, Eric. Why’s that?’
Jessie’s question startled Eric and tears filled his eyes. ‘I don’t know.’
‘What’s wrong?’ Jessie was becoming increasingly suspicious of his behaviour. ‘You seem nervous.’
‘I just want my best friend back.’ He dabbed his eyes with his fingers and sniffed away the tears.
It was then that Jessie noticed the eyeliner and mascara.
‘Do you have any idea where she could have gone? Did she have a boyfriend that her parents didn’t know about? Is he older than Shannon? Is she in trouble, Eric?’ She handed the teenager a tissue from a packet she kept in her handbag. ‘I�
��m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Shannon clearly means the world to you.’ She smiled.
‘She gets me, you know?’ Eric wiped his face clean, then ran his fingers through his short, spiky hair. ‘It’s hard to be like me in a small town like this. She’s always rooting for the underdog.’ A little laugh escaped. ‘And she hated bullies. When she saw Ben hassling Andrew, that drove her mad. I should have gone in there with her. Maybe if I had she wouldn’t be missing.’
‘You said to one of the other officers that she stepped in when her mum’s younger brother, Ben, was having a go at a man named Andrew Foster, is that right?’
‘That’s right. Ben is a piece of work, he really is. Total arsehole.’
‘In what way? Did he and Shannon get on?’
‘Look up the words “arrogant bully” in the dictionary and you’ll find the name Ben Randall written next to them. He’s just one of those lads who find humour in other people’s flaws and differences, you know.’ Eric scoffed. ‘Shannon said once I should feel sorry for him. I mean, seriously. She says he’s got issues.’
Jessie took a moment to process Eric’s reaction. It was clear he and Ben weren’t the best of friends.
‘What about Facebook, Eric?’ she added.
‘What about it?’ Eric frowned.
‘Was there anyone Shannon regularly spoke to on there that she might have arranged to meet?’
Eric shook his head vigorously. ‘No way. Shannon was sensible. She wouldn’t be that daft. In fact, she talked me out of doing it a while back. I got myself into a bit of trouble with a guy from Glasgow I’d been talking to on and off. He was hassling me to meet. I told Shannon and she talked me out of it.’ He blushed because his mum was there, then repeated, ‘She wouldn’t be so daft.’
Jessie was beginning to build a better picture of Shannon Ross. It would seem she was a girl filled with good intentions and big, creative ambitions. She stuck up for the little guy, the oppressed and the misunderstood. She was loved by family and friends. A nagging doubt lingered in Jessie, though. Eric was adamant she wasn’t in a relationship with either Calum Bailey or Rob Taylor, as the diary suggested. She wondered how Eric could be so sure if he didn’t even know that his best friend kept a diary.
‘Do you happen to know the password to Shannon’s Facebook account?’ she asked hopefully.
‘Yes, sure. She knows mine, too. I thought we knew everything about each other,’ he lied. He didn’t think Shannon suspected anything about his friendship with Calum. ‘Would you like me to log in for you?’
‘That would be great.’ Jessie was delighted with this development. ‘Thank you.’
‘I’ll go and get it, hang on.’ Eric stood up to leave as Agatha flashed him a soft smile of reassurance.
‘Eric is being really helpful,’ Jessie told her.
‘He might not show it, but he is really worried. We all are. It’s not like Shannon. She and Eric have been friends since nursery. This is just so awful.’ Agatha sighed, then raised her eyes upwards. ‘Where are my manners? I’m sorry, can I get you a cup of tea or coffee, detective?’
Jessie screwed up her nose. ‘No thanks, I’m fine.’
‘Here we go.’ Eric sat close to her on the sofa as he logged into Shannon’s Facebook account. The sight of her profile picture triggered more tears.
It was a picture of them taken just two weeks before at the edge of the river, the thrashing currents in the background. Eric handed the laptop to Jessie and wiped his face. She scrolled through Shannon’s timeline to find several posts from concerned school friends asking her to get in touch. She checked Shannon’s messages and found one that sparked her attention. It was from Calum Bailey, saying that he’d had time to think it over and they should meet to talk it through. Alarm bells rang loudly in Jessie’s mind. She scribbled down the log-in details, then logged out of the account. The message had been left the morning of her disappearance. Shannon never sent a reply.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jason’s legs burned from running. The heat spread rapidly from his calves to his thighs. He’d covered the three miles out onto the moor in a blur. He needed air. He needed to do something. He bent over, his hands gripping his knees to catch his breath. The first huge splat of rain didn’t put him off. The increasing deluge couldn’t make him turn round. Further he hiked through the bleak wilderness, the cold air trying to steal his breath with each step. Rain dripped from his cheeks and soaked into his clothes, but he had to keep moving. The call of the pink-footed geese overhead drew his attention and he followed their cries, his eyes drifting with the pattern of their flight. Every bird knew his place in the formation; even the stragglers. Where was Jason’s place now?
Jason’s chest tightened until it became hard to breathe. He coughed to clear the burning from his lungs. Within the isolated heart of the moor, Jason could be the last human on earth. The silence now encircled him, closing him inside the isolation. He stood to take in the whistling, gusting wind and the rain lashing his icy-cold cheeks, like he was trying to punish himself. He screamed into the wilderness around him – a long and guttural noise. He lifted his head to see the red deer stags scatter from their rut over the horizon, alerted to danger by his eruption and forcing an exodus of oystercatchers to rise, too. Again Jason screamed into the abyss until he was hoarse. He lifted his face into the driving, freezing rain, his teeth chattering in the chill. The sky darkened with his cries.
Ghillie Bobby Massie lifted his binoculars to his eyes and scanned the horizon for hares. He stopped dead when the sight of a man on his knees dressed in T-shirt and jeans caught his eye.
‘Jesus, he must be frozen.’ Bobby allowed the binoculars to dangle from his neck and used his walking pole to navigate his way towards the stranger. It wasn’t until he got closer that Bobby realised it was Jason Ross. ‘What are ye doin’ out here? C’mon, I’ll take you home, son.’
Jason didn’t lift his head. Instead he remained motionless, the lashing rain battering against him and his sodden shirt stuck like glue to his torso. Bobby frowned and held out his hand.
‘C’mon,’ he repeated. ‘Ye’ll catch yer death out here.’
‘Leave me!’ Jason screamed. ‘Would that really be a bad thing… would it?’
‘C’mon, son, that wee lassie’s going to need you when she gets back.’
Jason punched the boggy ground with the side of his fist. Then he hammered with such force with both hands, he created a pit in the earth. Bobby tugged his hat further over his ears against the biting wind out on the exposed moorland.
‘Jason,’ he murmured. ‘C’mon with me. I’ve a flask a’ rosy in the Jeep.’
Raindrops dripped from Jason’s eyelashes as he lifted his eyes to see Bobby properly for the first time. As if he only now noticed the balding, overweight fifty-year-old ghillie standing over him. Jason nodded and unfurled his mud-caked knees from the soil.
‘That’s it, c’mon with me.’ Bobby placed an arm around Jason’s soaked, trembling shoulder.
Rob Taylor sat and stared at his computer screen, then deleted the paragraph he had spent forty minutes writing. He allowed his head to drop into his hands and exhaled a long, slow breath. He hadn’t slept at all last night, and his mind was blank. He was struggling to string a sentence together that made any sense.
He needed coffee, so he carried his mug to the kitchen to get a refill. The rain continued to lash outside his kitchen window. It seemed to Rob that the rain had started when Shannon disappeared and hadn’t stopped. Each little drip raced towards puddles draining off the window ledge onto the pots of conifers below. All he could think about was Shannon and the agony Jason and Louise must be going through. He wished he could take the pain away, but he knew that would be impossible.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jessie glanced down at her phone while she waited for Maggie to bring her breakfast. The text from her sister Freya made her smile, but it was the text from Carol that burned in her mind. She was still too afr
aid to call her, and she knew Carol wouldn’t give bad news in a text. Perhaps if she didn’t ever call it wouldn’t be true. As she typed her reply to Freya, another of the pub’s guests joined her in the dining room.
‘Good morning,’ Blair Crawford said as he sat down with his newspaper.
‘Good morning,’ Jessie replied, then looked away. The last thing she felt like doing was getting involved in small talk.
‘It’s a beautiful day out there,’ Blair persisted, hoping his attempt at sarcastic weather humour would melt the ice.
She smiled and hoped he would take the hint. Blair could see that he would have to work harder to get her to bite. He would have to be more direct.
‘You’ll be here in connection with the missing girl, Shannon Ross. How is the search going?’
His question drew Jessie’s attention from her phone.
‘You should know I can’t discuss the investigation with you.’
Jessie’s eyes held Blair’s as she delivered the answer he guessed he would get. Maggie Malcolm broke the tension with two plates of cooked breakfast for her guests.
‘That looks good enough to eat,’ Blair joked as Maggie laid his plate in front of him.
Jessie smirked. How original.
‘Thank you,’ Jessie said when hers was placed in front of her.
‘Help yourselves to tea and coffee,’ Maggie told them before returning to the kitchen.
‘I know you can’t discuss the case, but I just wanted to say I hope you find her soon. Shannon reminds me of another young girl. Another blonde teenager who didn’t come home from school. One of my first assignments, actually,’ Blair commented. ‘Can’t believe it was twenty years ago. It feels like yesterday.’
