by M K Farrar
No noise came from inside, and she pushed the door open fully.
The bathroom was empty.
The first flutters of panic danced inside Rita’s chest. No, there was no need to worry. Bethany must have just slipped past her. She was bound to find her sitting at the kitchen table, teasing her sister and complaining there was never anything decent to eat.
For once, she wished Mitch was here, but he’d left at six that morning to get to a job. Normally, she was happy to get up and get everyone ready without him there. All he ever seemed to do was upset everyone even more. This morning, however, she wished there was another adult in the house.
Trying to calm the racing of her heart, she hurried back downstairs and checked the cloakroom, then the living room, and finally the kitchen. Florence was still at the table, but she’d stopped eating and was watching her mother, her small face pinched with worry.
“Mummy, what’s wrong?”
“Have you seen your sister this morning?”
“No. She’s probably in her room.”
“Well, she’s not, and I can’t find her.”
Maybe she’d missed something in the bedroom. Perhaps Bethany had left her a note explaining that she’d be leaving early to go to a friend’s house to work on another one of those projects she’d had recently.
She ran back upstairs.
“Mummy?” Florence’s voice chased her. “Mummy, where’s Bethy?”
Rita yanked open the curtains, letting morning light flood the room. She placed her hand on the mattress and discovered it cold. She spotted Bethany’s school uniform still on a hanger hooked onto the wardrobe door. If she hadn’t put on her uniform, then she couldn’t have gone to school.
The last person she wanted to speak to in a crisis was her husband, but it was important that he knew what was going on. Besides, he might even know where their daughter was. Maybe he’d taken her to work with him, though Rita struggled to imagine such a thing occurring. It seemed he did everything he could to avoid the teenage daughter he barely recognised anymore.
Rita found her mobile phone next to her bed and quickly brought up her husband’s number. It rang, and he answered.
She spoke before he could even answer. “Have you got Bethany with you?”
“What? No. Why would I?”
“Did you drop her off somewhere early this morning?”
“No.” His tone rose with irritation. “What is this, Rita? What’s with all the questions?”
“She wasn’t in her bed this morning. I don’t know where she is.”
“She wasn’t in her bed? But she was home last night, wasn’t she?”
For one crazy moment, Rita couldn’t bring up the memory of the previous evening. Had Bethany been here? She couldn’t remember anything about it—what had they eaten for dinner? What had they watched on television? It was all just a blank.
“Yes—yes, I think so.”
“You only think so?” he shot back.
All her fear and frustration blew up at him. “You were here, too, Mitch. Remember? It’s not as though I know anything different to you.”
“Okay, okay. Let’s think. Where would she be? With a friend, perhaps?”
“What friends? She doesn’t have any friends.”
“She’s been doing projects with her classmates all week. Maybe she’s with one of them?”
Rita knotted her hand in her hair. “At seven in the morning?” For once she wished her daughter had a mobile phone so she could at least try to call her.
“What do you want me to say?”
She released a breath. “That we need to phone the police.”
“Fine. Do it. I’m coming home.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Bethany had spent a sleepless night in the spare room at their leader’s house. Had she done the right thing by running away? Her mother would have noticed her missing by now and would be worried. Would Florence be upset as well?
He was happy she was there, though. At first light, he’d made her a special breakfast of fresh fruit and cinnamon buns and coffee to celebrate her freedom. She couldn’t bring herself to say how she was doubting she’d done the right thing by coming here. She didn’t want to disappoint him like that.
“I think it’s time, Bethany,” he said once they’d finished eating.
“Time for what?”
“Time for you to ascend like Stacey did.”
Worry settled like lead in her belly. “I don’t think I’m ready yet.”
“I think you are. Tonight feels good to me. The energies are right.”
“They are?”
He clasped one of her hands between both of his. “Tell me what your favourite food is. If you had to choose one meal, what would it be?”
The sudden change of topic threw her. “Err...I’m not sure.”
He smiled warmly. “I’m sure there’s something, Bethany. Imagine it’s your birthday and you’ve been allowed to order anything you want. What would it be?”
“Stuffed crust pepperoni pizza,” she said, “with Coke, and cookies that are still warm and gooey at the centre.”
“Done.” He dropped her hands and stood.
She had the horrible feeling she’d just agreed to something she didn’t fully understand.
“What—what’s going to happen today?”
“I’m going to have to leave you until later, but you’ll be okay on your own, won’t you?”
Her heart jumped with hope. If he left her alone, she could sneak out again. She could go back home and let her family know she was fine, and they didn’t need to worry.
“Yes, yes, of course.”
His brow creased in a frown. “You’re going to keep your promise, aren’t you? You wouldn’t let me and the rest of the group down, not after everything you’ve said.”
Panic buzzed through her veins, setting every nerve ending alight. “I-I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I think you do. Everything has been organised. Tonight is the night. All the universe’s energies are aligned to receive you. You can’t possibly think of turning your back on us, on God?”
Shame filled her. “I...I’m not saying that.”
“I can sense the change in energy inside you, Bethany. You can’t fool me.”
“I’m not trying to.”
He put out his hand to her. “Come here.”
She didn’t dare not take it, and his fingers, warm and dry, wrapped around hers. He pulled her to her feet. “I want to show you something.”
She allowed him to help her up, and he led her out into the hallway to stop in front of a unit designed for coats and shoes. “I don’t understand.”
“Watch.”
He released her and got to one side of the unit. Putting his back into it, he pushed, and the piece of furniture slid across the wooden floor to reveal a small door behind it.
Her nerves had turned to fear and, as was her habit, her hand went to her hair, seeking out the strands to twist and twirl and tug.
“What is this?” she dared ask.
“I can’t let you just wander around by yourself, Bethany.”
She took a step back. “Please, I don’t think I can do this.”
His features hardened. “Don’t make me angry with you. I can’t begin to say how much you’re disappointing me right now. I thought you were different.”
“I am. I’m sorry.”
She didn’t want to let him down. The thought of disappointing him made her want to cry with shame.
“I think you need to repent now. Take the rest of today to apologise to me and to God for your impure thoughts so your soul will be ready for tonight.”
Maybe if she just agreed with him, he’d go off and do something else—maybe go to work—and leave her alone, and then when his back was turned, she could run home then. She really didn’t want him to think badly of her, but ascending? She knew what that meant. The young man, Joel, had been right when he’d talked about their leader wanting them t
o kill themselves. He could call it whatever he wanted, but essentially it meant she was going to die. As much as she’d thought about dying in the past, dreaming of how life would be for everyone when she was gone, how they’d realise how wrong they’d been about her, and how they’d miss her and wished they’d treated her differently, now it was actually happening, it was the last thing she wanted. She wanted to see her parents again and hug her little sister. She wanted to go to college, and then maybe even uni. She wouldn’t let her life be ruined just because of a bit of hair.
She swallowed hard. “Okay, I will. I’ll sit here all day and repent until you get back.”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m very glad to hear that. I’m afraid you can’t do it here, though.”
“What? Where—”
But he’d already grabbed her by the arm again. “I have somewhere special for you to go.”
He opened the small door under the stairs. She’d thought it was a storage cupboard, but now she glimpsed a set of stairs leading down into the darkness.
“No, wait.”
He dragged her towards the stairs. “Don’t disappoint me, Bethany. I mean it. Don’t make me tell everyone tonight that you’ve let us all down. How do you think that’s going to make them feel?”
“I-I—”
She wanted so desperately to tell him to get lost and leave her alone, but she couldn’t find the words to leave her lips. She wasn’t strong enough. Maybe this was for the best, this was all she was good for. If she could give her energy to others, at least she’d have made a difference in some peoples’ lives and it wouldn’t have all been for nothing.
She felt as though all the bones had been removed from her body, so she was just a limp bag of flesh. She was barely even aware of her feet moving but, somehow, she found herself on the stairs, stumbling down into the dark.
Behind her, he reached out, and a click signalled a light being switched on. Bethany gasped. She hadn’t been expecting this at all.
“You see,” he said. “This is exactly where you need to be.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
It had been a week since Stacey Ford had been murdered, and they weren’t any closer to finding out who had killed her.
Erica’s phone rang, and she answered. “DI Swift.”
“Hey, Erica, it’s Naeema Shariff.”
“Naeema, how are you?”
Naeema was a detective who worked missing persons’ cases. Erica had worked with Naeema on previous cases and they had got on well.
“I’m well, but I’m sure you already know I’m not calling for social reasons. We’ve had another report of a girl going missing, a Bethany Emerson. I know mispers aren’t normally your line of work, but since this girl has a similar profile to the murder case you’re working on, I thought you would want to know.”
“Thanks. I appreciate you keeping me informed. What makes you think the two cases might be linked?”
Naeema let out a sigh. “Look, it could be nothing. It most probably is nothing. After all, teenage girls go missing all the time and normally show up after twenty-four hours, but the age and location of this one just sent my Spidey senses going.”
Erica cocked an eyebrow, even though Naeema couldn’t see her. “Spidey senses?”
“Not a Marvel fan, huh?”
“Not exactly.”
“Let’s call it cop’s intuition then. I’m about to go and interview the girl’s parents. Want to tag along?”
Erica weighed up her options. This could have nothing to do with her case and she’d be wasting her time, but she did trust Naeema’s opinion, and she was right in that the two girls had a similar profile. She’d been concerned that whoever had killed Stacey Ford would do the same to another girl, and she’d rather be overcautious than not cautious enough. If this missing girl ended up being another of his victims and she hadn’t done everything possible to help, she wouldn’t forgive herself.
“Sure, what’s the address. I’ll meet you outside.”
Naeema reeled it off to her.
“I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
ERICA STOPPED HER CAR outside the address Naeema had given her.
There was no sign of the other detective yet, but Erica was sure she wouldn’t be long. She’d always been reliable, as far as Erica knew, and had probably just got caught in some traffic.
Where was Shawn that morning? Erica couldn’t help but feel something was going on with him. He was normally the most open person she knew, yet these last few days he’d been distant with her. She was used to him accompanying her on most jobs, but recently, every time she turned around, he wasn’t there. She was his boss as well as his friend, and though she didn’t want to come down hard on him, she couldn’t have him vanishing in the middle of an important case. A girl’s life had been taken, and whoever had killed her was still out there somewhere. Now there was a chance another girl had also been taken, and she still didn’t know where her partner was.
An unmarked vehicle pulled up behind her, and Erica glanced in the rear-view mirror to catch sight of another woman behind the wheel. She recognised Naeema’s jet-black hair and caught her brown eyes in the mirror.
She gathered her bag and climbed out to meet the other detective.
“Naeema, good to see you again.”
The two women shook hands.
“You, too. I’m hoping I’m wrong about this one and we’re just looking at another teen runaway, but I didn’t want to take any chances.”
“I’m glad you called. If this isn’t connected, then we haven’t lost anything.”
Naeema smiled. “Apart from your time.”
“It’s all part of the job.”
As this was Naeema’s case, she led the way and Erica followed behind. The detective rang the bell, and a second later, the door opened, both Mr and Mrs Emerson standing there.
The mother was pale-faced and anxious, while the father was the opposite, his cheeks and nose bright red, and jaw gritted with what appeared to be fury.
Naeema introduced them both, and the mother, Rita, showed them through into the living room. They all sat, and Naeema took them through all the usual questions—when was the last time they’d seen their daughter, what did they think she’d be wearing, did the have a recent photograph.
“I just can’t believe Bethany has done this to us,” the father blurted. “What the hell was she thinking? All I asked from her was that she not cause us any trouble, and then she goes and pulls a stunt like this.”
Rita Emerson spun to face him. “For God’s sake, Mitch. Shut up, will you. You don’t know what’s happened to her. You don’t know any of this is her fault.”
“She’s an attention seeker, always has been. That’s what all this hair pulling is about. Why couldn’t she be more like her sister?”
“It’s an illness!” Rita cried. “She doesn’t do it for attention. She does it because she’s anxious, and frankly, I’m not surprised with a father like you. And don’t compare her to Flo either. You’ve always made it perfectly clear that you prefer Florence to Bethany, and how do you think that’s made Bethany feel?”
He tutted. “I do not prefer one over the other. Trust you to think that.”
She threw up her hands. “I don’t just think it. Bethany thinks it.”
“Right, so I suppose it’s my fault she’s run away, is it?”
Erica and Naeema exchanged a glance. If the couple were willing to argue this way in front of a couple of police officers, she didn’t want to think what sort of arguments they had when they thought they were alone, but most likely had little ears from upstairs listening in.
Was this why their daughter was missing? There was a good chance this had nothing to do with her case and the girl had finally had enough and left. Erica wouldn’t have blamed her, either. This was clearly not a happy home.
“Excuse me for interrupting,” Naeema said, “but you’re sure she’s run away? Is anything missing from her room? Clot
hes? Pictures? Laptop? I assume you’ve already tried to call her.”
Rita chewed at her lower lip. “Bethany doesn’t have a phone, and she only uses her laptop for school work. She isn’t on social media or anything like that.”
Erica frowned. “That’s quite unusual, wouldn’t you say? Is that a house rule, that she’s not allowed to have a phone?”
“Not at all. She used to have one, when she was fourteen or so, but then she decided she didn’t want it anymore.”
There had to be more to that story than she was letting on.
“Did something happen for her not to want it anymore?” Erica checked.
The girl’s mother sniffled. “She doesn’t really talk to us, but I think there might have been a bit of online bullying involved. I thought it was very mature of her, just walking away from it all like that.”
“Online bullying?” said Naeema. “Or by people she knows in real life?”
“She had a problem with some girls from school. We’ve been called in to the headmaster’s office countless times because of it. He’s always been very good, making sure the girls apologise and keeping an eye out for any carryings-on. But he can’t do anything outside of school time, and I think that’s why Bethany got rid of the phone, so they couldn’t contact her then.”
Naeema’s brow pressed into a frown. “Did you ever go to the police?”
The father scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s normal for kids to pick on one another. Happened to me when I was at school, and it never did me any harm.”
Erica wasn’t so sure about that, but she kept her mouth shut.
He continued, “It’s all so namby-pamby at schools these days. You can’t even have a sport’s day anymore without all of the kids getting medals, and nothing being allowed to be competitive. I mean, what’s the point in sports if it isn’t competitive? I think they should bring back corporal punishment in schools. I bet the kids would behave a lot better if they thought they were going to have a cane taken to their backsides in front of all their mates.”
Erica gritted her teeth to prevent herself getting into an argument with this man, who was clearly a complete idiot. She imagined her reaction if someone dared strike Poppy while she was at school. She was pretty certain it would put her on the wrong side of the law for once.
