Love You Gone: A gripping psychological crime novel with an incredible twist

by Rona Halsall

  He dressed quickly and ran downstairs. The kitchen was empty. So was the living room, children’s toys scattered over the carpet where they’d been left. He scowled. He’d told Ceri about this a million times. You could tread on all sorts and go flying. Little bits of Lego, cars, trains; they were all dangerous when they were left lying on the floor like this.

  Where are they all?

  He rubbed at his chin, then his eyes widened. Christ, has Ma had a fall? Her legs weren’t good with her MS and it would be so easy for her to trip. Or is it Da? Maybe he’d had an accident on the tractor. In which case, they could be at the hospital.

  He ran round the farm, checking all the outbuildings, but there was still no sign of anyone. And the bungalow, where his aunt and uncle lived these days, was empty. He went back to the yard, let the dogs out and fed them, then did his rounds, feeding the rest of the livestock, all of them starving hungry, almost knocking him over in their haste to get to the feed troughs. Unease swilled around his stomach.

  It was a long time since his parents, or Ceri for that matter, had been away from the farm. All their groceries and clothes were bought online and delivered. Ella and Finn were home-schooled for now, so there was no school run to be done. Ceri had been a bit reticent about that at first, but she’d seen sense in the end and Ted knew it was the right thing because he’d hated school with a passion and didn’t want his nephew and niece to go through the horrors he’d been through.

  He tried to think when his aunt and uncle had last been out on their own. It was years ago. Years. There was no need, and Ted took them to hospital appointments and to the doctor’s because they required a bit of supervision and an interpreter, as it were, to make sure whichever health professional they were seeing got the proper story. Otherwise they were likely to ramble on about all sorts of things that they really shouldn’t be talking about.

  They’ve got to be at the hospital.

  An emergency. It was the only answer. His heart started to race and he stopped pouring sheep nuts into the troughs, oblivious to the animals hustling around him, pushing past him to get at the food. Maybe one of the children has been hurt? He blew out a breath, couldn’t bear to think about it, and went back to pouring feed to stop himself dwelling on all the possibilities. He’d been so careful with the children, ever since they were born, making sure Ceri kept them away from all the dangers present on a farm. He would never forgive himself for not being here, if anything had happened to them.

  A sense of urgency speeded up his movements as he hurried to finish his jobs. He put the dogs away again and headed to the hospital in Bangor. They had to be there. There was no other possible scenario.

  It took him almost an hour to get to the hospital, with one hold-up after another on the journey; tractors and lorries and road works all slowing him down. By the time he got there he was in a foul mood, frustrated and annoyed, a headache pounding at the base of his skull. But when he went to reception, they could find no record of any of them being admitted. So he went round to the A & E department to double-check, but they weren’t there either. He walked back to his car, completely flummoxed. It made no sense. No sense at all.

  By the time he got back to the farm, he thought his head was going to burst. All the energy he’d put into looking after his family and he went away for a couple of days and… this happened, whatever this was. They were gone and he had no idea where they might be. Or even how they’d gone anywhere given that the spare car was still there in the yard. His heart was hammering in his chest, panic rising up to form a lump up his throat.

  What if I never see them again?

  What if I’m alone?

  That was his worst nightmare, ever since his parents had died so suddenly; just him alone with his thoughts. It didn’t bear thinking about. What purpose would he have without his family? He’d built his life around looking after them all, and was the only one who knew how everything worked, how the mechanics of their lives fitted together. He kept everything running sweetly, kept the money flowing and decided which direction to take the business in. All down to him. If he didn’t have them, then he’d be nothing. His life would be nothing.

  Where the fuck are they?

  A sudden realisation stopped him in his tracks, a thought so horrible it rooted him to the spot.

  Maybe Mel said something and the police have arrested them.

  Thirty-Nine

  Stevens woke up to a bright morning and, even though he’d had a late night, he was more energised than he had been for a while, determined to get to the bottom of the missing family case. He arrived at work to find the station quiet, only Jackson in the office. He looked around, frowning. ‘Where is everyone?’

  Jackson looked up from his computer. ‘I’ve sent George up to HQ with all the evidence. Thought you’d want the fingerprints done and DNA checks on those bloodstains ASAP, and then there’s the phone to get unlocked and the laptop. Ailsa’s in your office, just trying to get hold of the guy in Dumfries again, to see if she can get more information.’

  Stevens raised an eyebrow, impressed by the keenness of his team.

  ‘The ANPR has been checked for timings,’ Jackson continued, ‘but there’s no sign of Mrs Roberts on the motorways when she said she travelled up here. So she must have used the A roads, if her timings are right. Oh, and I’ve tried getting hold of Mr Roberts’ family at the farm again but there’s still nobody answering.’ Jackson grinned at his boss, clearly pleased with the progress they’d made. ‘And that’s where we’re up to.’

  Stevens rubbed his chin while he thought. ‘Okay, well why don’t you come with me, and we’ll go and check out the witness at the café who responded to the appeal. Get that loose end tidied up.’

  The café was only a short walk from the police station and the two officers strode down the pavement together, lost in their thoughts. The day was chilly but bright, snow capping the mountains, a slight breeze ruffling the surface of the lake, and it seemed far too cheerful given the possibilities they were investigating.

  The café was only small, tucked round a corner, but every table was full. It probably wasn’t a good time to speak to the owner, Stevens realised. She came to the counter looking red-faced and flustered, wiping her hands on a tea towel. Her blue apron was speckled with chocolate powder and the sweet smell wafted around her like an invisible cloak.

  ‘I can see you’re busy,’ Stevens said. ‘We won’t take up too much of your time. We’re just following up a sighting of the missing family. I think they were seen in here on Friday. Someone rang after the social media appeal.’

  ‘Oh yes. That was Lucy.’ She nodded to a waitress who was serving a table by the door. ‘I’m sorry to ask you this, but there’s not much space in here. Would you mind having a chat with her outside?’

  ‘No, no that’s fine,’ Stevens said, turning to walk over to the waitress, Jackson right behind him.

  The girl frowned, looking worried, her brow creased into delicate waves. She was only young, a school leaver by the looks of her, and as they stepped outside, she crossed her arms across her chest, shivering in the strengthening breeze.

  ‘I don’t think I can really tell you much,’ she said. ‘The man in the cap was sitting at the table by the window there.’ She indicated with her head. ‘When the family came in all the other tables were full and they went and sat with him. I’m not even sure they knew him.’

  ‘But they were chatting?’ Jackson took over the questions and Stevens let him, happy to watch the waitress’s reactions and listen.

  ‘Not for long. The man had been there for half an hour or so, and I think he was ready to go when they came in. To be honest, he looked a bit annoyed when they sat down.’

  ‘So how long were they sitting together for?’

  ‘Oh, it can’t have been more than five or ten minutes really. I was busy, honestly time just flies in here.’ She shrugged and looked apologetic. ‘I can’t be definite.’

  ‘Then he went and the f
amily stayed?’

  ‘That’s right. The kids had milkshakes. That cheered them up a bit. They didn’t look very happy when they came in.’

  ‘What about the father?’

  ‘Hmm, well, he looked a bit rough.’

  The girl’s mouth twisted from side to side, as if she was chewing over her words before speaking them. ‘There was something about them, though. The man in the cap seemed a bit… tense, I suppose. Jittery. He kept looking around. And –’ she screwed up her face as if she wasn’t sure – ‘I thought he passed something over the table. I just caught it out of the corner of my eye. But… I’ve been thinking about it and I can’t shake the feeling that’s what I saw.’

  Stevens glanced at his constable, who raised an eyebrow. Drugs? That was Stevens’ first thought. This was surely evidence that would back up their theory of third-party involvement in the case.

  ‘Would you be able to give us a description of him? The man in the cap?’

  She slowly shook her head. ‘Nothing that would help, I don’t think. He was big, well over six feet, broad, like he worked out. He had a beard, dark brown, but to be honest, that’s all I noticed.’ She shrugged. ‘I was so busy and his cap shaded his face, so I didn’t get a good look.’

  Stevens gave her his card. ‘If you think of anything that would help us identify him, then give us a ring, would you?’ He smiled at her. ‘You’ve been a big help. Thank you.’

  The girl gave him a nervous grin and went back into the café.

  ‘So, what do you make of that?’ Stevens asked Jackson, as he worked through the main points of the conversation in his mind.

  ‘My first thought is a drugs deal. Given what the wife told us.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Stevens scratched at the stubble on his chin. ‘I can’t help thinking we’ve been making a lot of assumptions based on what people have told us. People who’ve also lied.’ He turned and they started walking back to the station. ‘Let’s see if there’s anything from the Welsh police yet, then we’ll catch up with Ailsa and see where we’re up to.’

  Jackson glanced at him. ‘Is it just me, or are we going round in circles with this one?’

  Forty

  Ted stood in the yard, looking around him, a tingle of fear fizzing in his head. He just couldn’t work it out. He’d rung Idris, his policeman friend, so he knew that his family hadn’t been arrested. So, where are they? This was their home, their livelihood, everything they owned. They didn’t have any money, for God’s sake – he was in charge of all the finances and they didn’t have debit or credit cards, so they couldn’t have gone far. And they hadn’t taken the car, so someone must have come to collect them. But who?

  A movement made him turn his head and his heart leapt when he saw a police car, followed by a police van, heading up the track towards him.

  His breath stuck in his throat, refusing to go in or out as he watched the vehicles come to a halt. Two policemen got out, his dogs running up to them, barking and snarling, as if they were going to bite. Ted knew they wouldn’t, but it was quite scary when they were like that around people, baring their teeth, and had proved an effective deterrent to uninvited guests.

  ‘Can you take control of your dogs, please?’ the driver said, using the car door as a shield while three dogs launched themselves towards him, claws clattering and scratching at the paintwork. He was a stern-looking man, with a square face, short grey hair and dark eyes, who didn’t look like he was the life and soul of the party.

  Ted forced a tight smile. ‘Sorry, we don’t have many visitors. They get a bit excited.’ He whistled and the dogs slunk back to him, cowering on the ground by his legs, their eyes still on the police officers.

  ‘Can you put them away somewhere, sir?’ the man said. ‘We need to have a chat.’

  A chat. That didn’t sound good. That sounded like there was something to discuss, which suggested knowledge, which— Ted told himself to stop, to focus and not do anything that could be viewed as suspicious. He forced a smile. ‘Of course, just hold on a minute while I get them in the shed.’

  Ted’s heart pounded in his chest as he walked across the yard, over to the outbuilding where they manufactured and stored the cannabis capsules. He glanced over his shoulder and saw two springer spaniels being unloaded from the second van, which he could see was labelled ‘North Wales Police Dog Section’.

  Sniffer dogs! His jaw tightened, teeth grinding together. This is trouble. Big, big trouble. He hadn’t had time to check how well everything had been hidden and he’d only been able to speak to Phil on the phone, so there was no saying what had actually been done. Sweat beaded on his brow and stuck his T-shirt to his back as he closed the dogs in their pen. He wiped his face with his sleeve and made his expression as noncommittal as he could before walking back towards the officers. He didn’t know these men. They must be from police HQ up the coast, not the local officers he knew and supplied with capsules. These two didn’t know him from Adam.

  There were four officers huddled together, studying a map, pointing and looking around at the layout of the farm. A couple more were waiting by the car. Ted ran his tongue round dry lips, his mind a blank, rubbed clean by panic as he struggled to work out how to keep them away from the hiding places.

  He gave them a friendly smile as he approached, trying to look unconcerned. ‘How can I help you, gentlemen?’

  They turned to look at him. ‘Are you Mr Edward Roberts?’ the stern man asked.

  ‘Ted.’ He stuck out his hand for a handshake and dropped it when he realised it wasn’t going to happen. He puffed up his chest. ‘This is my farm.’

  ‘I’m DS Davies,’ the stern man said. ‘And this is my colleague, DC Jones.’ He indicated the tall thin man who’d been in the passenger seat of the car. ‘Then we’ve got PCs Pritchard and Jeffries with the dogs, and PCs Evans and Dean assisting.’

  Ted widened his smile. ‘Nice to meet you all.’

  The men all stared at him, the silence filling Ted’s head until it felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool.

  ‘We’ve had a tip-off that cannabis is being grown here,’ DS Davies said eventually.

  Ted swallowed, raised his eyebrows. ‘Cannabis?’ He laughed, wanting to sound incredulous, but it came out as a strange bark of a sound. He cleared his throat and made himself meet the man’s stony gaze. ‘No, well, you’ve got that wrong. The only thing we grow here is sheep and cows. And a bit of veg in the polytunnel.’

  ‘Well, we have a warrant to do a search.’ DS Davies handed him a piece of paper, which Ted pretended to study, his eyes skimming over the words as his mind exploded with expletives. There was nothing he could do. Nothing. He just had to hope that all the precautions he’d taken actually worked.

  He shrugged as though he didn’t mind, wondering if they could tell how hard his heart was hammering in his chest, whether they could see his body juddering with the force of it. ‘I honestly can’t think why you’d believe I’d be growing cannabis. Who told you that?’

  The man stared at him and Ted struggled to maintain eye contact. ‘Anonymous tip- off.’

  Ted huffed. ‘That’s nice. People causing trouble.’ He spread his arms wide. ‘Help yourselves. Just be careful of the livestock. Not everything is friendly.’

  He stood in the yard, shivering in the cold wind that blew up the valley while he watched the officers at work. He winced as the sniffer dogs got closer and closer to the outbuilding where the stash of capsules was stored up in the crog-loft. He was confident it was not somewhere a dog would be able to reach, given that he’d hidden the ladder in the barn before he’d gone up to the Lake District. He’d stacked a pile of straw on top of it, so he was pretty sure it wouldn’t be found. Anyway, his dogs were in there now. That would help mask the scent.

  The next problem, of course, was the plants. They were all over the place, the main growing area being behind padlocked doors in a small stone barn that sat in a field opposite the house. It looked disused, slates sliding off the
roof, but a new shell had been built inside, rows and rows of growing lights installed. That’s where their main crop was. Another outbuilding housed a germination area, but fortunately nothing was sprouting yet and the plant pots could contain anything.

  One of the loft spaces in the house contained a second growing area. It was where it had all started, but Ted was pretty sure the dogs wouldn’t smell anything up there, given the layers of insulation and the fact that the hatch was hidden behind a false ceiling panel.

  He had talked himself into a state of calm when he heard a whirring sound overhead and looked up to see a helicopter flying up the valley towards the farm. His chest clenched so tight he thought he was having a heart attack. The police helicopter! Probably with thermal imaging equipment on board that would detect the heat profile coming from the lamps in the barn and the house and would know instantly what was going on.

  His legs felt weak, his whole body threatening to crumple to the ground. There was no denying any of this now. He gritted his teeth and watched one of the dog handlers turn and look at him as he listened to something on his radio.

  Ted glanced round, wondering if there was a way out, but the police car and the dog handlers’ van had been parked across his exit route, and the helicopter would be able to follow him if he ran. He let out a desperate groan. There was no escape.

  His hands clenched so hard his nails dug into his skin. Goddammit, this is all Luke’s fault. If he hadn’t come back none of this would have happened.