Little Girl Gone

by Stephen Edger

  ‘I fucking saw you. Let me in now!’

  Alex cursed herself for allowing him to see her. ‘I’m calling the police,’ she yelled back, still crouched against the under-sink cupboard.

  ‘Let me in so we can sort this out. I know she’s in there with you.’

  ‘Just go away!’ Alex yelled back.

  The banging stopped almost as quickly as it had started. With a sigh of relief, Alex gradually straightened once again, relieved to see Isla had returned and was now berating the young man. To her surprise, Isla then unlocked the door and brought him inside, dragging him into the kitchen and closing the door without a word to Alex.

  ‘What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing coming here?’ Isla growled from the other side of the door.

  Isla knew him.

  That much was clear from the muffled conversation that was now underway. And although Alex knew it was rude to eavesdrop, she couldn’t stop herself leaning closer to the wooden frame and pressing her ear as close as she dared.

  ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ the young man fired back. ‘You weren’t at home.’

  ‘I’m on a case,’ Isla ground out. ‘Not that that’s any of your business. How did you even find me?’

  ‘I went to your house and you wasn’t there, so I used the app to find your phone and that said you’d been here overnight, so I figured you must have shacked up with some other bloke. Didn’t realize you was a fucking lesbian.’

  ‘Is that really what you think? Just tell me what you’re doing here, Luke. Is it money again?’

  ‘I’m in trouble, Mum.’

  Alex’s eyes widened, as she took two steps back. He was Isla’s son? He didn’t look anything like her, and Alex couldn’t recall Isla mentioning having children, but she was certainly old enough to have an adult son. Alex felt even worse for listening in, and she was creeping back to the living room when the kitchen door flew open and Isla stormed out, yanking the front door open and pointing out.

  ‘I told you before, I cannot keep bailing you out of these messes.’

  ‘Mum, please, you don’t understand—’

  ‘The hell I don’t! Did you think you could just rock up here and I would give you what’s left of my pay cheque? You’re an adult now, Luke, and it’s time you stood on your own two feet.’

  ‘Mum, I’m desperate. I need you—’

  Isla glared at him. ‘After what you did before … there’s no way back from something like that. Get out before I have you arrested for scaring the living shit out of this poor woman.’

  Luke took another look at Alex, before dropping his head and skulking out through the door. He turned as if to try one final plea, with Isla slamming the door before he had the chance.

  Isla remained by the door for several minutes, not speaking, either uncertain what to say, or too embarrassed to try and make excuses for her son’s errant behaviour. Alex half-expected her to throw the door open and chase off down the road after him, but she remained resolute.

  It was Alex who made the first move to ease the tension. ‘I’ll fix us some tea.’

  Isla’s lips parted with no words emerging. As she nodded her head in gratitude a single tear rolled down her cheek.

  Alex headed into the kitchen, filling the kettle from the tap and setting it back on its stand.

  ‘I’m so sorry you had to see and hear any of that,’ Isla said as she eventually entered the room, her head dipped.

  It wasn’t Alex’s place to judge, so she waved away Isla’s concern with a flick of the wrist.

  ‘What must you think of me?’ Isla continued, still avoiding eye contact. ‘First of all I disappear for hours last night, and now my addict son turns up on your doorstep, making a real scene. It is totally unprofessional, and I think it only right that I speak to DI Trent and have a new FLO assigned to support you.’

  Alex watched her. ‘Can I be honest with you? I’m actually quite glad to learn that you’re not as perfect as I pictured in my overactive imagination. I’m not exactly mother of the year, am I? Since you arrived yesterday morning I’ve been walking on eggshells around here, desperate not to say or do something that could be misconstrued or reflect even worse on me. I kept wondering what you must think of me. The mother who leaves her toddler unattended in a car, allowing some sick bastard to snatch her. So, it’s a relief to come across another mother who has issues, albeit with an older son.’

  ‘He’s twenty-six, unemployed, and addicted to pain medication. I used to joke with my ex-husband that at least he wasn’t on heroin. We – my husband and I – decided we would start a family early. This was before I joined the force. The pregnancy wasn’t easy and resulted in a hysterectomy. We nearly lost Luke, so I suppose I always considered him a bit of a miracle baby, and … I don’t know … maybe it meant I was too soft on him.

  ‘Anyway, fast-forward nineteen years, and he decided he wanted to be an artist. We paid for him to go to university, and he dropped out after eight months. At that point I should have been firmer and forced him to knuckle down and get a regular job. He said he wanted to do a gap year, go abroad and discover himself, assist charitable organizations in developing countries. Against my better judgement I thought it might make a man of him, and paid for his ticket.

  ‘What I now know is he spent the year travelling from one hippy commune to another, smoking or inhaling God knows what. Every now and again we’d receive a postcard, or phone call where he’d make up stories of what he’d been up to. We later learned it was all a pack of lies.

  ‘Then one day I received a call at work from the British embassy in Bangkok. Luke had been beaten and left for dead in the city and was in intensive care in hospital with a fractured skull and double leg break. I was horrified and caught the next flight over there, and I stayed there for three weeks with him, until he was fit enough to fly home. Of course we had to sort him a new passport and plane ticket as he claimed his had been stolen when he’d been attacked, but I was never certain. It was something the embassy worker said to me about the street value of a British passport, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he’d sold it to fund his habit.

  ‘Anyway, I brought him home and tried to get him into a rehabilitation programme. His leg and head were still in pretty bad shape and the doctor over here prescribed some pretty strong painkillers to help his pain. I kept him at home with me, so I could keep an eye on him. He was soon mobile again and, with me working shifts, it was impossible to know what he was up to while I was at work. He soon fell back into bad habits.’

  Alex handed Isla a mug of tea. ‘I had no idea you had all that going on in your life.’

  Isla sipped the tea. ‘Yes, well, we’ve always been a family of good liars. My husband managed to cover up the fact he was sleeping with my best friend for nearly two years.’

  Alex’s eyes widened.

  ‘It was many years ago, and we’ve all moved on since then. He has literally moved on: remarried and has two young daughters with his new wife – and I hate him for it – but he’s happy. He has very little to do with our son, which is why I’m always the first port of call when Luke runs out of money.’

  ‘Is that why you were running late last night? Because of Luke?’

  Isla nodded. ‘I bet you’re reconsidering my offer to have DI Trent trade me in for a new FLO now, aren’t you?’

  Alex shook her head sincerely. ‘I’m really not.’

  ‘I hope you and Ray are able to support each other through all this. I’ve seen first-hand how these situations can tear a marriage apart. I’ve also seen how they can strengthen the bond.’

  It was strange having someone she felt so able to share with. Maybe it was the fact that Isla had revealed her own family issues, or maybe it was just because she hadn’t managed to confide in anyone else, but it felt almost natural to admit the truth.

  ‘I suspect Ray is having an affair. I don’t know for certain. In my gut I think he is.’

  ‘My husband changed his aftershave,�
�� Isla said. ‘That was the first clue for me. Suddenly he started focusing on his diet. I’d tried for years to make him more health-conscious and had given up when he suddenly started making smoothies for breakfast, going for runs and taking better care of himself. At first I hoped it was just a midlife crisis. He started working later and taking more business trips, and eventually I found a message from her to him when he left his phone unattended. At least he did the decent thing then and came clean. I mean, I had him banged to rights, but men will still often lie in those situations. He moved out the next day and didn’t contest when I instigated divorce proceedings against him.’

  ‘Ray’s been playing squash without taking his kit with him. And he’s never home. I can’t remember the last time we made love.’

  Isla stepped closer. ‘I don’t really know Ray, but for my money he doesn’t seem the type. In this job I’ve seen plenty of colleagues’ marriages end in divorce, and ninety-nine times out a hundred it has nothing to do with infidelity. On the whole police officers just don’t have the time to have an affair. It’s a pretty intense job and if he says he’s working late, he more than likely is. Most marriages that end – where one of the partners is in the job – do so because of neglect; the demanding hours and mental focus required to fight crime do not go hand in hand with a loving relationship. Marriage is a union that requires work and effort, and sometimes it’s impossible to find that balance. I don’t blame my ex for seeking solace elsewhere, I just wish he’d been honest with me sooner.’

  A knock at the door caught both their attention. Glancing at Isla for confirmation that Luke hadn’t returned, Alex moved to the kitchen, gasping when she recognized the tall man on the doorstep.

  28

  The knot in Ray’s stomach tightened, not because Trent’s words had come as a shock, more because they had echoed the niggling voice in his head he’d been trying to ignore.

  ‘I’m stepping over the line by even telling you,’ Trent warned, placing her hands on the steering wheel as if she needed additional support, ‘but I thought it only fair you hear it from me.’

  He grunted, refusing to make eye contact with her, staring at his hands as his fingers entwined involuntarily. ‘You must suspect I’m involved too then. I mean, that’s a reasonable deduction if you’re serious about Alex being a suspect.’

  Trent didn’t respond initially, though he saw her head bobbing in his periphery. There had to be more she wasn’t telling him. To come clean about her suspicions so early into the search wouldn’t have been a decision she’d have taken lightly. She was putting both the investigation and her own career in jeopardy; there had to be more.

  ‘You get one “get out of jail free” card with me, Ray. Lie to me, or I sense you’re not flying straight, I’ll personally snap the cuffs around your wrists. So, this is it, the million-pound question: has Alex done something to hurt Carol-Anne?’

  His eyes shone as his head snapped up. ‘No … I mean, I-I … don’t want to believe she has.’

  His heart ached at the possibility that Alex could have made up the story about the abduction in order to cover up something she’d done herself. She loved their daughter, of that he had no doubt. So to even contemplate that something had happened – something Alex was desperately trying to cover up – chilled him to the core.

  Trent was watching him carefully. ‘Do you have reason to suspect Alex isn’t telling the truth?’

  He thought about the Manchester incident, how Alex had been so convinced she’d collected Carol-Anne from the park, rather than that other woman’s daughter; how even when he’d told her he’d had Carol-Anne all morning, she’d thought he was lying to her. She was just as adamant that their daughter had been in the car on Tuesday, and he didn’t doubt she believed she was telling the truth, but that wasn’t the same thing as actually telling the truth. If she’d been off her medication for as long as he suspected, was it possible her mental health had been worsening for weeks without him noticing? What with work and the affair, he hadn’t been around for long enough to really notice her decline.

  ‘Ray? What is it?’ Trent pressed as she saw his eyes darting as his mind worked.

  How could he tell her and hammer the final nail into Alex’s coffin himself? He had promised to be at her side for better, for worse, in sickness and in health. She deserved the benefit of the doubt, didn’t she?

  What if there was more going on than he was prepared to acknowledge? What if Carol-Anne hadn’t been in the car when Alex had arrived at the Woodside car park? What if something bad had happened before then? Didn’t he owe it to his little girl to find out the truth and bring her home regardless?

  He swallowed hard, feeling the tears splash against his cheeks. ‘Her pills: I don’t think she’s been taking them.’

  It was all Trent had been looking for. Without another word, she started the engine and pulled off.

  ‘I want you to come in and speak with the team,’ Trent said, as they made their way up the stairs to the third floor. ‘That means I will allow you into MIR-1 temporarily, only so you can speak as a witness, and not so you can be involved in the investigation.’ She paused and reached for his arm to stop him too. ‘God knows, I hope we’re wrong about Alex. I know this can’t be easy for you. We have to look at every angle if we’re to discover what really happened to Carol-Anne. You understand that, don’t you? This isn’t about apportioning blame, it’s about getting your daughter back. So I don’t want you taking any of what is said in there to heart. The team realize what a shit situation this is, but they have to look at the case objectively. Do you understand? Try to think about Alex as a potential suspect, rather than your wife, if you can manage that.’

  He nodded his understanding, wondering whether she realized how much more difficult she was making matters.

  She punched in the door code to MIR-1 as they arrived, covering the keypad with her hand, and led him in.

  ‘Right, ladies and gents,’ she declared to the room. ‘Pens down, calls ended and all eyes on me.’

  The general chatter died almost instantly, swiftly followed by an echo of telephones and stationery being dropped on desks.

  ‘I have advised Ray of our latest thinking, and he has agreed to fully cooperate, and answer our questions with the utmost honesty.’

  Ray could feel the eyes of the half dozen men and women in the room on him, and he’d never felt so self-conscious. His gaze met Owen’s and there was a shared moment of empathy before both looked away, Ray’s stare falling to the floor.

  ‘Ray?’ Trent said, to capture his attention. ‘Start by telling us what Alex’s state of mind has been like in the past couple of weeks: has she seemed different in any way; has she seemed stressed, or worried by anything; has she been more argumentative with you or distant from Carol-Anne?’

  How could he even begin to try and answer such a leading question? The first rule of investigation was to assume nothing, yet Trent had clearly decided Alex was to blame and was determined to tighten the net around their prime suspect, despite her previous statement to the contrary.

  He allowed his eyes to circle the group gathered around the main dry-wipe board. ‘I can’t say I’ve noticed any particular change in Alex’s temperament in the last week. Having been away on the course, I really haven’t spent all that much time with either Alex or Carol-Anne.’

  ‘I know this isn’t easy for you,’ Trent said calmly. ‘You need to be objective in your recollection. Alex said her reason for being in town on Tuesday was for an interview. Is that correct?’

  He nodded. ‘Yes, she’s looking to return to work on a part-time basis to begin with, taking on more hours when Carol-Anne starts at pre-school.’

  ‘Was she feeling stressed about the interview? Or maybe at the prospect of returning to work after … how long has she been a stay-at-home mum?’

  ‘It’s nearly three years since she last worked; firstly maternity leave and then leaving altogether.’

  ‘So it’s fair to
say that re-entering the workforce would be a significant change to her routine? Has she discussed her feelings about it with you?’

  He took a deep breath, trying to relax his shoulders. ‘She hasn’t said she’s feeling stressed by the prospect of returning to work. If anything, I’d say she was excited by it.’

  Trent’s eyes darted as her mind processed the information. ‘Excited? So the thought of being free of the constraints of motherhood is her primary motive for returning to work?’

  Why was she twisting his words like that? Alex had been looking forward to interacting with other people on a more frequent basis. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t miss Carol-Anne like crazy when she did secure new employment. She hadn’t found being a full-time mum as easy as she’d thought. That didn’t mean she would ever even think about harming Carol-Anne.

  ‘Yes … well, no … not exactly. What I mean is: I wouldn’t phrase it like that. It can be isolating being stuck in doors all day – and I think the possibility of holding adult conversations and not staring at the same four walls is what she’s finding exciting.’

  ‘And the interview itself? Had she done much preparation for it? Had she asked you for any guidance or interview technique, for example?’

  He thought carefully about the question. ‘No, I think it was quite a last-minute appointment, and since I was away, I didn’t learn about it until Monday afternoon.’

  ‘Did she have any support when you were away last week?’ Owen asked.

  ‘She was on her own. Her parents died years ago, and she doesn’t get on well with my sister, who isn’t local anyway.’

  ‘Rattling about at home – just the two of them – can’t have been easy,’ Trent concluded.

  Ray didn’t like where this was headed. It was one thing to suspect Alex, but the team were acting like judge, jury, and executioner. All of it based on supposition rather than clear evidence.