by Linda Coles
Then a thought hit her. What if he had taken them? He would know she had only just got up and would be furious with her for oversleeping. But what if he hadn’t taken them? That would be far worse. There was no choice: she dialled his number and waited for it to connect.
“Hi,” he said evenly.
Sam blurted out her question. “Did you take the girls to school?”
“What? No, I left around seven a.m. Why, was I supposed to today? Have I forgotten something?”
“No, you weren’t. It’s just, well I overslept and when I woke up, they were both gone. I figured you had taken them, but there was no note.” Her voice rose in panic as the tears came.
“Oh my God! Where are they?”
Sam disconnected the call and raced back upstairs, calling her children’s names, but the house was still eerily quiet. She knew they were gone.
And now Duncan was heading back home.
“My babies, where are you?” she wailed as she threw on jeans and a sweater. Oh God… Tears blurred her vision. She’d finally done it. She’d screwed up and lost them forever. How the hell had she managed to oversleep and not hear them? How long had they been gone? Stuffing her feet into her old trainers by the front door, she grabbed her jacket from the banister rail and fled the house.
It was freezing cold outside, but at least it wasn’t raining. Calling for Jasmine and Victoria, her eyes flitting frantically from side to side, she zipped up her jacket as she trotted along, trying to keep from screaming. No, that wouldn’t do. They had to be close by. Maybe they were playing in a neighbour’s yard. Had they got coats on? she wondered. Why hadn’t she checked that before legging it out in a rush? Picking up the pace, she rushed down the street, still calling, stopping everyone she passed to ask if they’d seen two little girls out on their own.
Nobody had.
After circling the immediate streets and looking over garden hedges calling their names, she slowed to a walk again and then stood still, a heavy feeling of dread settling in her gut.
What the hell had happened to them?
What the hell had she done? She was to blame, and now she had no choice but to call Duncan again and update him. With shaking hands, she punched his number into her mobile again.
“I’m nearly home now,” he said. “Meet me back there and we’ll form a plan.”
He didn’t sound mad at her, only concerned. But she knew his anger at her stupidity, her carelessness, would come. The blame game would start all over again, and she’d get to be the loser this time for sure.
But another question entered her head. How had they actually got outside if they’d gone under their own steam? Duncan always locked the door behind him when he left so early – always. Though if the door had been left unlocked, it would have been all too easy for an intruder to enter.
And help themselves.
She couldn’t bear to think about that.
So, had the door been left unlocked while she slept? That would be the first question she’d asked Duncan when he got home.
She was rounding the corner at the end of the street when she saw his car pull up outside their house. She broke into a run and called out to him.
“Duncan!”
He stood and watched as she slowed to a stop, breathless after the short distance.
“I’ve looked around here locally – nothing. I can’t think where they’d have gone.” She bent and put her hands on her knees, gasping.
Duncan, always the calm one, asked, “Have you checked their school? Maybe they just went on their own.”
She shook her head. “I just panicked and went out to look, and then I called you. Oh, Duncan! Where can they have got to?”
But Duncan was busy dialling the school. He spoke to the secretary and then listened gravely, nodding. He asked her to call if she did see them and then ended the call. He shook his head at Sam.
“I’m taking that as a no, then?” she said, her mouth dry.
“That’s right.” His voice tightened. “Where the hell were you?”
“I overslept. I didn’t hear a thing.”
Slowly, his next words scraped through his teeth. “You have one job and one job only, and that is to take care of our girls and the house. And you can’t even do that properly.” He paused and took a breath, visibly controlling himself. “You are aware there is someone taking children out there at the moment, I assume? Two young girls are already unaccounted for. I hope to God you haven’t doubled that.”
“Did you lock the door after you when you left this morning?” she asked.
“What? Of course I did.” Then he got her meaning. “Oh, so you think I’m to blame, then, do you, for leaving the door unlocked?” His voice rose several octaves, incredulous. “Well, I locked it. I always lock it. It’s what I do to keep my family safe. But I’m not the one they’re left in charge with. That falls on you – but you were too busy sleeping, and now look!”
Sam hadn’t got the words to fight back. She knew she’d screwed up. The girls were her responsibility while she was at home all day.
Duncan could see the fight had left her and calmed a little as tears filled her eyes again. The detective in him took over from the father.
“Look, this is getting us nowhere. Tell me where you’ve looked so far, and I’ll get a couple of the lads to give us a hand. If we haven’t found them in the next two hours, we’ll make an official missing persons report. I need you to make a list of all of their friends and favourite places and we’ll start there. Okay?”
Sam nodded her agreement, glad he was taking over, giving them a plan to work to. She went back inside to get a pen and paper and make the list. When it was complete, she sat and began calling the parents of their daughters’ friends.
Chapter Fifteen
His heart in his mouth, Duncan drove the local streets looking for his two little sweethearts, fighting down a rising sense of panic. How far could two little girls go on their own? Heavens, they were only seven and eight and, to his knowledge, not particularly street-smart. The streets worried him, particularly the busy main A57 road that led into the city. If they’d gone anywhere near there… It didn’t bear thinking about. He’d called Rochelle and she’d organized a couple of uniformed officers to give them a hand. Right now, four units were actively looking. In another hour, he’d pull out every stop that he could to bring them home safely. Sometimes being in the police had its perks, though he hoped he never needed to use his colleagues again.
Disappointment in Sam stabbed his heart again. Try as he might, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. The last few months had been hard to watch, hard to understand, and hard to deal with. And now this. It couldn’t get any worse than this. What his future with Sam was he was unsure, but he knew one thing. If he left, if they split up, he would take the girls with him, because no judge in the world would let her have custody of them after this. He’d see to it. These cases were usually stacked against the male parents, he knew, but not this time. His phone rang. Rochelle.
“I’m guessing nothing at your end?” she asked him.
“Sadly, no. I can’t see how they could have gone so far away. Even if they left right after me at seven a.m., which they wouldn’t have, they’re on foot.” He didn’t want to think about them getting a lift with a stranger. “How far can two sets of tiny feet go?”
“We’ll find them, Duncan,” she told him determinedly. “It’s really early on. They’re probably playing somewhere, unaware of the commotion going on to find them. And when they get hungry, they’ll be back up your front path before you know it.”
Duncan knew she was trying to be optimistic; he’d told many parents the same story. But he knew the statistics; that was the downside to being a detective.
“I’ll call you later,” he said, and clicked off, returning his focus to the street he was cruising down. His stomach felt like someone had filled it with cement. His thoughts circled back to Sam and her lazy ways, lying in bed while his girls wandered out o
f the house. Were they warm enough? Had she checked if their coats were gone? He didn’t remember asking her, and the point was important. He called her using the hands-free and she picked up almost instantly.
“Found them?” she blurted.
“No. No, not yet.” Keep positive. “Have you checked if they took their coats with them?”
“What? Oh, no – hang on. I’ll run and look.” The car was silent while he waited for her to check the hall cupboard. Then she was back.
“Both coats are gone. That’s a good sign, isn’t it?”
“I’m not sure if there is anything good here, but yes, it could mean they went under their own steam. I’ll keep looking.”
He rang off, not bothering with goodbye, and let out a heavy sigh of relief that their coats were in fact gone. What predator would kit them out before snatching them? No, on the surface, it looked like they had let themselves out and gone on an adventure.
So where the hell were they?
Chapter Sixteen
Back at the house, Sam had called everyone she could think of, but nobody had seen her two girls. She then called Anika and told her the full story, big wet tears falling down both cheeks as she talked.
“What can I do to help?” her friend asked her.
Anika wasn’t one for sitting around in a crisis, and Sam welcomed her strength. While Duncan had strength, their relationship was at breaking point and she was unable to draw any reassurance from him.
“Duncan is out searching the streets, as are some officers. Can you come over? I could do with a hug.”
Anika agreed, though she thought it odd that her friend wanted her for a hug. Surely, she could be more productive elsewhere? Sighing, she grabbed her purse and said she’d be right over.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
Sam rang off and reached for her own bag. She pulled out the painkillers she’d bought from a pharmacy on the edge of town yesterday. She stared at the half-empty blister pack; there were only six left. They’d have to do. She pushed all six Paramol into the palm of her hand and threw them all to the back of her mouth, then washed them down with the remainder of the almost-cold tea that was in her mug. That should take the edge off for a while. She tossed the empty packet into the pedal bin in the kitchen cupboard and closed the door.
On any other day, she would have shredded the packaging into tiny pieces to make it invisible amongst the other bin contents. Half the problem of taking as many painkillers as she did was destroying the evidence. She had almost bought a small garden incinerator from the hardware store for the job, but she knew Duncan would have asked her what it was for, since she did no work in or out of the house.
She heard the front door open as Anika let herself in and called out to Sam.
“I’m in the lounge. Come on through.”
Anika came straight over to her, wrapping her arms around her and pulling her close. Sam’s skin on her face was hot and damp with tears, her eyes puffy and swollen. Finally, she stepped back, took Sam’s clammy hands in her own and sat them both on the sofa.
“I feel for you, Sam, I really do. But let’s stay positive. You said they have their coats, so I’m betting they are off playing someplace and will be home later. Didn’t you ever go off when you were little and scare your parents half to death, like they’re doing right now with you both?”
Sam nodded ever so slightly as she remembered. Anika smiled.
“And what made you go back home? Do you remember?”
Sam nodded again. “I got hungry. I’d missed dinner and it was going dark.”
“There you are, then. They’ll be famished soon enough and either make their way home or, if they’ve got lost, go and tell someone. You’ll see I’m right.” Anika beamed at Sam in the hope it would cheer her, help her think back to her own experience and how she’d got home that night. It made it all the more believable and was better than the alternative story.
“I’ll make some more tea,” Anika said, pointing to Sam’s empty mug.
Sam tried to stand but her head had other ideas. Her vision swam and she sat straight back down. She closed her eyes for a moment while Anika busied herself in the kitchen. By the time the fresh tea was ready and the two mugs were on the coffee table, Sam was fast asleep.
Chapter Seventeen
The elderly woman had been watching from her bedroom window. Two young girls were playing alone in the park and had been enjoying themselves for more than an hour. She’d thought it strange that they weren’t in school, but in this neighbourhood it wasn’t that unusual to see truant ones hanging about – though she had to concede they were generally older than the two she’d been watching. Still, they were having fun out in the open; no harm in that.
Mrs. Skeen had never had children of her own, never been lucky in that way, but she had always enjoyed the company of young ones where she could, helping as a teacher’s assistant years back and with local playgroups until more recently. She so enjoyed their chatter, their young words of random wisdom and oblivious reasoning, their eager young minds so alive with wonder before reality set in. She always hoped their lives wouldn’t turn out as hers had.
She checked the clock on the mantelpiece as she passed it on her way to get her coat and boots, but that really wasn’t necessary. Instinctively, she knew it was time, time to bring them inside, time to make a call. She pulled on an old pair of knitted gloves, put her hood up against the cold wind and set off. It would take her a while to move the short distance, but that didn’t matter; time was something she had plenty of.
Closing the back door behind her, she made her way down the side alley and out towards the park and the busy A57 that ran along it, right along the front of her house. A heavy-goods truck whooshed past and whipped the cold, damp air into her face. Miniscule droplets of moisture clung to her skin, making the fine hairs on her jaw look like cobwebs drenched in heavy morning dew. She waited on the pavement opposite the park entrance. And waited. Finally, the traffic cleared, and she ambled across towards the metal railings and the gate. How she was going to get back across the busy road was a different matter, but she figured the answer would come to her at the time. It usually did.
Each breath preceded her like small fog clouds in front of her face; her breathing was short and shallow. As she made her way towards the two little girls, she wondered absently what their education had been thus far on not talking to strangers. Her task could prove a little more difficult than she thought. Again, the answer would be clear soon enough.
Little voices giggling up ahead made her smile. Oh, so innocent. Oh, to be that tender young age again, with not a care in the world, no knowledge of what lay ahead of them. Oh, the changes she would have made to her own life – if only she’d been able... The giggles increased in volume as she neared them both and now the old woman could see their matching pink coats, their matching rosy cheeks, pink from the cold.
They stopped giggling when they saw her. Victoria, the eldest at seven, gently nudged Jasmine behind her, much to Jasmine’s annoyance. The old woman noticed and smiled; one day protecting her sister in that manner might come in handy, she thought. Bending down to their level, she spoke.
“Having fun?” she enquired cheerily.
Victoria didn’t say a word. Jasmine nodded in reply. Both wore serious expressions on their tiny faces. It was clear the ‘Don’t talk to strangers’ message had been learned in their home. Wise indeed, thought Mrs. Skeen.
She pressed on. “I couldn’t help noticing you were out here alone on such a cold day, and not at school. Are you on an adventure, by chance?”
She beamed at them both. The moisture clinging to her hairy chin made the dark hairs look lighter than they really were.
Victoria had never seen such a hairy chin, and fixated on it, trying not to blink.
“I won’t bite you, you know. I’m not the bad wolf, my loves. You can tell me what you’re up to. I’m guessing it’s your secret?”
Jasmine nodded again and
opened her mouth to speak, but Victoria dug her elbow into her ribs.
“Ouch!” Jasmine exclaimed.
Then Victoria spoke. “We’re off school. Mummy isn’t feeling very well, so we’ve left her sleeping.” Still, she couldn’t take her eyes off the woman’s damp chin.
“Well, since you’ve been here a while now in the cold, who would like some warm blackcurrant and a biscuit or two? I’ll be betting you’re both hungry by now?”
Two little faces bobbed up and down as they nodded.
“I live just over there,” Mrs. Skeen said, pointing to the house across the way. “Let’s get you warmed up, and I’ll see if there’s a chocolate biscuit or two left, shall we? Then we can let your mummy know you’re both okay.”
Two blank faces stared at her, so she carried on. “I’ll be betting when she wakes up and finds you gone, she’ll be worried, and we don’t want that, do we?”
The girls shook their heads gravely, taking in her every word. Mrs. Skeen reached out to take their hands now, enfolding one in each of her woolly paws. Hand in hand, the little group walked slowly out of the park gates and back towards the A57.
“So,” said Mrs. Skeen brightly as they walked slowly along, “what are your names?”
“I’m Victoria, and this is Jasmine.”
“What pretty names for pretty girls. Do you live around here?”
“Sort of. It’s quite a walk away.”
“Not to worry. Let’s get across the road and have some juice, shall we?”
Both girls had started to relax a little and nodded excitedly. They’d missed breakfast and were hungry. The thought of something warming in their tums was appealing.
The three of them stood on the edge of the pavement waiting for the traffic to ease. Finally, there was a gap, and they made their way across and up the short distance to Mrs. Skeen’s house. Steering them both down the side entry, she unlocked the door and led them both inside. The warmth of the house took the chill off them all as she led them through to the lounge and the welcoming open fire.
