Hey You, Pretty Face - A baby left for dead. Three girls stolen in the night. A Psychological Thriller. (DC Jack Rutherford Book 1)

by Linda Coles

  “Damn it,” she exclaimed, and slowed to a stop around the corner of a side road away from the traffic as the last of the air leaked out of the tyre. She slipped off her cycling gloves and laid them in the grass as she crouched over the offending wheel. In the fading light, she got to work quickly, taking the tyre off and removing the inner tube, swapping it for the spare she carried in her puncture pack. Her fingers were bitterly cold, and getting the new tube to sit properly inside the tyre was taking far longer than it would have normally. Leanne was getting more and more frustrated and cold the longer it took.

  “Oh, come on!” she growled under her breath. It had been one of those days from the start. Blowing on her fingers to try and warm them a little, she looked up from what she was doing and spotted something moving on the road ahead. Crouched down still and low, she strained to see what it was, but her eyes couldn’t penetrate the near darkness enough for her to make anything out. Should she call out? Was it an animal heading for the busy road, maybe? Instinct told her to keep her mouth shut. Suddenly her ears picked up the sound of muffled deep, male voices, then the start of an engine.

  Funny, she thought. Why no lights? Did the driver know they weren’t on?

  A door slammed, but it sounded more substantial than a car door; a van door, maybe? She was about to resume the task at hand when she realized the vehicle was headed her way, towards the junction, still without lights on. Should she try and warn the driver? Would they even see her in the near darkness? The vehicle was approaching too quickly for her to make a firm decision so she stayed put where she was, more out of missed opportunity than good judgment. But as the van pulled alongside her, she inadvertently locked eyes with the driver. The glow of light from the dashboard gave his face a ghostly glow. He was looking right at her. She froze. Then, the man turned towards the passenger seat for a moment, then looked back, right at her. His face was unsmiling. Everything around her seemed to still and quieten for a moment. Something deep inside her told her she was in trouble, but what should she do? Run, or hope he hadn’t actually seen her huddled in the grass at all? Was she imagining it all? Could she be sure? After all, there was no light shining on her from their headlamps because they were still off. The lane was in darkness, wasn’t it?

  Her cycle lights were on!

  He must have seen them glowing out from under her bike as it lay on its side beside her. Damn! Leanne knew for sure now that she was in trouble. She sprang from the grass and began to run towards the main road, hoping to stop a passing car and get to safety.

  But the night had other ideas. Her plastic cycling cleats slipped and slid on the smooth tarmac as she careered around the side of the van.

  And into the bulky arms of the van’s passenger.

  Chapter Eight

  Penny looked at her watch for the umpteenth time. It read a minute later than the last time she’d looked. It was nearly six o’clock, totally dark outside, and Leanne wasn’t answering her phone. But then if she was still cycling home, she knew Leanne wouldn’t hear it; her phone would be tucked safely in her backpack against the elements as usual. Still, she should have been back more than an hour ago and Penny couldn’t help wonder if she was staying out on purpose after the morning’s heated discussion. So, when the front door opened, Penny all but flew across the lounge to the hallway, expecting to see her daughter coming through the door. But it wasn’t her.

  “Hello, love,” said Dave. “Something smells good.” He beamed. When Penny didn’t return the smile, his smile vanished. “What’s she done now?”

  “Nothing like that. She’s not come home yet and I’m worried. Her shift finished at four-thirty, so she should have been home an hour ago. I can’t get her on her phone.”

  “Have you called the garden centre?” He took his overcoat off and hung it on the hook by the door. “They probably asked her to stay on and she’s punishing us for this morning by not ringing. That’ll be all.”

  “I haven’t yet, but I will now. I didn’t want her to think we were checking up on her.”

  “Let me know what they say. I’m going to take a quick shower before dinner.”

  As Dave climbed the stairs, Penny called the garden centre from her spot still in the hallway. After several rings, a harassed-sounding woman’s voice answered at the other end.

  “Hi, it’s Penny, Leanne’s mum, here. Can you tell me if she’s left for home as yet, please?”

  “Yes, Penny, she left at four-thirty on her bike. I could have done with her staying, actually. We’ve been busy since she left. Is everything alright?”

  “Oh, you know teenagers. She’s probably stopped off somewhere and I can’t get hold of her. I’m a bit worried, though, so if you hear from her, do me a favour and let me know?”

  “Sure will. Hope she’s back soon. Got to go.”

  “Thanks. Bye.” Penny stood with the phone in her hand and stared blankly at the hall wall. Where the hell could she have gone in this foul weather at night?

  The bathroom door upstairs opened and Dave called down. “What did they say?”

  “They said she left at four-thirty on her bike. I’m worried now, Dave. What do you reckon?”

  “Well, first off, we’ll give her another hour, in light of this morning’s conversation, then we’ll start calling her friends. If that doesn’t do any good, I guess we call the police, eh?”

  “Okay. One hour, though. No more.”

  “Agreed. Now, why don’t we eat if it’s ready? No point in us all waiting for Madam to show her face.” He made his way back down the stairs, pulling on a sweatshirt on as he came, then took Penny in his arms at the bottom. He kissed her cheek lovingly.

  “She’ll be home soon, Penny. I know she will. She’s not one to be a toe rag. She’s a sensible girl who’s still upset that we put our foot down – you’ll see. She’ll be moaning to one of her friends as we speak – I bet you a fiver.”

  “Well, I hope you’re right, and I lose a fiver.” Penny looked at her watch again. Six-fifteen pm. Leanne had until 7.15, then she’d be on the phone in a flash.

  By 8 pm they’d called everyone they could think of and nobody had seen her – Leanne was still not home.

  “I’m ringing the police now. This has gone on long enough, Dave, and I’m really worried. Then we’ll drive out to the garden centre and see if we can see anything. Maybe she’s had an accident and is lying in a ditch in the dark. I don’t know, but I can’t sit here and do nothing.”

  “Agreed. I’ll give them a call, see what they say. She’s still a minor and this is out of character.” He was dialling as he spoke. When he’d finished speaking with the police, Dave said, “The duty sergeant will organize someone to come round and take a statement He asked us to get a recent photo out ready. They’ll be over shortly.”

  Penny was already taking a picture out of a frame that sat on the mantlepiece, one of the few pictures of recent in which Leanne wasn’t wearing her cycling helmet. It had been taken before she headed out to a school dance back in the summer and her sun-kissed face smiled back at Penny. She started to cry.

  “Hey, hey, don’t cry, Penny,” said Dave, rushing to put his arms around her. “She’ll be back soon enough. And now the police are involved, it will all be okay. We’ll find her.”

  Penny wasn’t convinced by his positivity, but she knew one of them had to be. No sooner had he said the words than there was a knock at the door.

  Dave left her to wipe her tears and unlatched the door.

  A detective stood on the step.

  “Mr Meadows? I’m DC Jack Rutherford. May I come in?” The detective held up his warrant card.

  Dave opened the door further and motioned for him to enter. “Thanks for coming,” he said. He closed the door and the two men walked down the hallway to where Penny was now stood. She introduced herself and the three of them sat in the lounge.

  “Would you like some tea, Detective?”

  “That would be lovely, thanks. No sugar, thanks. Just milk.�
�

  Dave handed over the picture of Leanne.

  “It’s from the summer, so not long ago. Is that good enough?”

  “Perfect,” said Jack. “When Mrs Meadows comes back, we’ll start from the beginning and I can assess where to take it from here. A family liaison officer will be joining us shortly and will stay with you for a while, okay?”

  Penny walked back into the room carrying a tray and caught the tail end of the conversation as she handed Jack a mug of tea.

  “Thanks,” he said to her. “Now let’s start from the beginning. Tell me everything you know and then I’ll fill in the gaps with some questions.” Jack had interviewed many parents of missing children in his time and it never got any easier to watch their pain and anguish. The good news, which he immediately shared with them, was that about a third of missing girls Leanne’s age were simply staying out with a mate, inside, safe and warm. Another third made their own way home without the intervention of the police, and another chunk were simply out walking the streets cooling off. It was common for kids in this age group to go missing, in other words, and extremely rare for it to end in tragedy.

  There was a comfort for the Meadows in the statistics. But which category did their daughter fall into?

  Chapter Nine

  Leanne Meadows wasn’t the only child who went missing that cold Monday evening. When Jack returned to the station after talking to Mr and Mrs Meadows, he was surprised to see Eddie at his desk entering a report on his computer.

  “No date tonight, Eddie?”

  “Nah, got called to a missing person instead.”

  “Eh? I’ve just been to one myself. Nobody said anything to me about another misper. Who is it?”

  Eddie carried on typing as he spoke. “A twelve-year-old girl, Kate Bryers, didn’t make it back from walking her dog tonight. What’s yours?”

  “Similar, actually. A fifteen-year-old girl didn’t make it home from her casual job at the garden centre on Wickham Road. Had a falling out earlier this morning with her parents, so I’m hoping she’s cooling off somewhere. She’s a cyclist, so she was riding home on her bike. Uniforms are retracing her steps as we speak, and I’m off to join in the search. You?”

  “Uniforms are door knocking, then same. I’ve called the hospitals. Nothing there, so that’s sort of good news.” Eddie stood and pulled his jacket on. “Right, I’m off. I hope these two aren’t connected. Will you check they don’t know one another and let me know? Of course, if they did and they are hiding out together someplace, that would be ideal. Bring them both home together in time for hot chocolate, eh?”

  “Will do,” said Jack as he watched his colleague go. “Not sure why a fifteen-year-old would hang out with a twelve-year-old, though,” he mumbled, half to himself. Still, he pulled up the report for Kate Bryers anyway and scanned it.

  “Hmm, she lives not far off the Wickham Road, though. That could be a coincidence – or not.” He picked up the phone to call the FLO who was with the Meadowses.

  “Can you see if Mr or Mrs Meadows knows Kate Bryers, age 12?” he asked her. “It seems she’s been reported missing this evening, too, so gently as you go. Let me know when you’ve broached it. She’s a bit young to be hanging out with a fifteen-year-old but maybe Leanne was helping her with something. Or it could be nothing.”

  “Will do. Nothing to report here,” the officer replied. They rang off, then Jack grabbed his own coat and went out to his car to join the other officers. He had just about fastened his seatbelt when his phone buzzed again. He flipped it open.

  “DC Rutherford,” he said.

  “Jack, it’s PC Clarke, about the Leanne Meadows case? We’ve located her bike, we think. Looks like it’s got a flat tyre. On the corner of Wickham Road with Sparrows Lane.”

  “I’m on my way over. I’m guessing no sign of her?”

  “Correct. There’s a set of gloves here as well as her bike, a backpack with a change of clothes and her phone. Nothing else. Looks like she was attempting to mend the tyre. There’s a new tube as well as the old. We’re securing the area now.”

  “Did you say Sparrows Lane?”

  “I did. Any reason you ask?”

  “Another missing child tonight lives on Sparrows Lane. You’ll see the squad car parked outside, I expect, if you drive down.”

  “Now that is weird. You think they’re missing someplace together?”

  “I don’t think anything at the moment, apart from what you’ve already stated, but it’s weird. DS Edwards is coordinating that one and will probably coordinate this one too now, same area same night and all. Anyway, I’ll be there shortly.”

  He disconnected the call and concentrated on getting out of the car park onto the wet road. Sleet was starting up again, making tiny splodge patterns on the windscreen in front of him. Sleet was usually a good indicator snow was on its way. The bookies would love that, so close to Christmas. It was too cold a night to be outside, that was for sure, and Jack hoped that both Kate and Leanne were keeping warm somewhere safe. His phone rang again, and he struggled it out of his coat pocket.

  “DS Rutherford.”

  “It’s PC Clarke, Jack. They’re not aware of a connection. Leanne had a small circle of close friends. The rest were all cycling buddies, all around her own age. Sorry.”

  “Right-o. Thanks.” He tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and cussed. “Shit. That leaves us with no obvious connection. It could be a long, cold night.”

  Up ahead, he saw the lights of the squad car on the corner of Wickham and Sparrows Lane and he pulled to a stop a little way before the scene. A crime scene tent had been erected and mobile lights set up, and he spotted two figures in white paper coveralls. All was in hand. The sleet was still falling, and he wished he’d got better footwear on for a grassy ditch inspection. He pulled his coat collar up as far as it would go and stepped out into the cold night, hands stuffed deep into his pockets. If he slipped, he’d have no chance to save himself and end up on his arse for sure.

  Better not slip, then.

  “What have you got, Clarke?” he asked the PC who was walking towards him. “Anything new?”

  “SOCO have photographed and are about done. A couple of officers have questioned the neighbours in Sparrows Lane and talked to the FLO at Kate Bryers’ home. We’ve lifted the bike and the other belongings, so we’ll see if it’s definitely hers. There’s no evidence of a struggle, though there are some strange marks on the loose gravel at the edge of the junction. They look like maybe slip marks, but they’re thin. We’re thinking maybe she had cycling shoes on and slipped for some reason. There are only a couple of them. Other than that, nothing obvious or new to add right now.”

  Jack didn’t like what he was hearing – or thinking. “So, Leanne isn’t here. I’m betting those few houses down there haven’t seen her, and there’s two slip marks near her bike. By a busy road. What are the chances she’s accepted a lift with a stranger?”

  “Don’t know, but it’s not looking good, is it, Jack?”

  “No, Clarke. It’s most definitely not looking good.”

  Chapter Ten

  Mr and Mrs Bryers were understandably worried sick. Their twelve-year-old daughter was missing, and now another girl was missing, disappeared from the end of the lane. Their heads were filling with all kinds of scenarios. Neither parent had ventured out to work the following morning. Both were too tired, too anxious to concentrate and wanted to stay at home for when Kate returned.

  Because she would return. They had to cling to a positive outcome.

  They knew the stats, but being so young, Kate was extremely vulnerable. The statistics for her age group were not as positive as for the older girl’s. The only comfort they had was that maybe Kate wasn’t alone. Maybe she was with the older girl, someone they could count on to help bring Kate safely home. At fifteen, she would be a bit more street-smart. But who knew where they might be, or what condition they were in?

  If they were, in fact, together.


  The FLO was still with them, had stayed with them through the night – not that either of them had slept much. This morning they were all going to meet with Leanne’s parents and try and piece together a connection, some common ground.

  The meeting was set for ten that morning, and both Jack and Eddie would be in attendance.

  Right now, both detectives were finishing off the morning briefing in the squad room back at the station.

  “Before we go to the Bryers’ house, let’s both go to the Meadows’ and relook at Leanne’s room,” Eddie said. “We can also pick up her hairbrush so we’ve got her DNA. At least when it’s lodged in the misper’s system, if anything turns up elsewhere, we’ll know. We’ll do the same at Kate’s home, too. I know it’s early days, but let’s get it done.”

  Eddie was in full swing for a change. His sometimes-questionable methods, mixed with hard graft, were what would bring them home, if anything would.

  “After this meeting,” Jack added, “I’ve organized to talk to their closest friends, see what shakes loose, see what Kate’s plans were. I have a short list to work from but since school is closed for the holidays, it could be tough to find her wider circle. I’m speaking with her head teacher, though, and she’ll help out. We know what Leanne was doing – on her way home from work – but Kate? I don’t suppose she had her own phone?”

  Jack was hopeful, though he suspected she wouldn’t have, given her age. Not many youngsters had a phone in 1999. Not that many adults did.

  “That would have been useful, but no, she didn’t,” Eddie said. “Leanne only had one because of her cycling and going off so far and so often. Her parents wanted her to be contactable or to be able to call if she ever got stranded. Shame she hadn’t called last night, eh? We can still follow up with the phone company, though. There could be texts.”