Little Girl Gone

by Stephen Edger

  ‘You’re trying to paint my wife as a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown,’ he barked. ‘Just because she’s had issues historically, doesn’t mean they’ve returned. And what exactly do you think she’s done? You’re trying to put words into my mouth to meet some predetermined view of her as prime suspect in your case. I don’t know what it is you’re constructing. Honesty is a two-way street, so why don’t you tell me exactly what you think she’s done and what evidence you have to support such a theory?’

  He hadn’t meant to raise his voice. He owed Alex a defence against allegations she knew nothing about. And more importantly, if she was somehow responsible for his daughter’s absence, he needed to know.

  ‘And what about other suspects?’ he asked, lowering his voice. ‘What about finding someone who might have taken Carol-Anne to get back at me for locking them up? Huh? I’ve sent plenty of weirdoes down in my time, where’s the list of them?’

  Trent narrowed her eyes. ‘Of course we are chasing down every possible angle, but …’ she paused and nodded.

  One of the team flipped on the dry-wipe board’s backlight, revealing the writing he’d been unable to decipher from where he was standing.

  ‘Using traffic camera footage, we’ve managed to retrace some of Alex’s vehicle’s movements prior to her arrival at the car park,’ Trent said, using a pen to point at key locations on a printed road map hanging from the board. ‘We believe this is the route she took based on what we have found, and that it is the most direct route from your house to the Woodside car park. Unfortunately none of the shots give us a clear view of who is inside the vehicle. What it doesn’t show is whether Carol-Anne was in the car at the start of the journey, or whether Alex stopped anywhere along the way to drop her off.’

  Trent fixed him with a questioning stare. ‘Did Alex have plans to go anywhere else earlier in the day that you know of?’

  Ray shook his head as no memory fired. ‘Not that I’m aware of.’

  Trent kept her eyes on him. ‘We also picked up her car earlier in the day – mid-morning – heading north on the M3 motorway. She is seen leaving the motorway at Fleet. Camera footage in the town is intermittent. We know she was in the area for at least half an hour, before she’s seen returning to the motorway and heading back to Southampton. To your knowledge, was there any reason for her to be in Fleet on Tuesday morning?’

  Alex hadn’t mentioned any plans to go to Fleet, nor had she told him that she had been there later on. Given everything that had happened since he’d seen her on Tuesday morning, it was hardly surprising if it had slipped her mind.

  ‘Does she have any friends in Fleet?’ Trent pressed. ‘Are you aware of any reason she would drive forty-five minutes down the motorway to get there, spend only half an hour and then drive all the way home?’

  Ray’s brow furrowed as he tried to recall any acquaintances who lived in the area, returning a nil response.

  ‘There’s a nature reserve called Fleet Pond near where we believe Alex stopped,’ Trent continued grimly. ‘Unless you can offer me a reason not to, I’m about to authorize a search team to head there immediately with sniffer dogs. Please convince me that I’m barking up the wrong tree here, Ray.’

  As he raised his head and their eyes made contact, he could offer nothing more than a quivering lip.

  29

  Alex’s heart was racing as she opened the door and looked into the eyes of Dr Kirkman.

  ‘I’m sorry to call around like this unannounced,’ he said, his amber skin contrasting with the sky of cloud overhead, his jet-black hair parted to the side as it always was. He offered a hopeful smile. ‘May I come in?’

  Alex’s frown deepened. ‘What are you doing here?’

  He looked down at his hands as he searched for the right explanation. It was strange seeing him outside of the safety of his office, even stranger that he had appeared here in this world, the one she kept compartmentalized from the counselling sessions. He didn’t seem his usual, confident self, and it was unclear if it was because he was out of his comfort zone, or if he was breaching some kind of code of practice.

  ‘The police called round at my office last night,’ he began, still staring at his hands. ‘They wouldn’t tell me what it was regarding. They asked questions about you and wanted to know why you’d been coming to me for counselling.’ He looked up, panic in his eyes. ‘I didn’t tell them anything, of course, that would have been a breach of the confidentiality agreement we both signed. They kept asking and asking, and by the time they left I couldn’t stop thinking about you either. I was going to phone, but I thought it would be better to come in person. I got your address from our files, and I hope you don’t mind me just turning up like this. I sense you might need me now, more than ever, though, so I wanted to offer my services.’

  Suddenly Isla appeared, pushing herself into the gap between Alex and the doorframe, fixing Dr Kirkman with a forceful stare. ‘And who might you be, sir?’

  ‘Dr Saeed Kirkman,’ he said, a confused look on his face. ‘Who are …?’ His words trailed off as Isla raised her identification. ‘Oh, I see.’

  Isla’s eyes remained on him as she spoke. ‘Do you know this man, Mrs Granger?’

  Alex’s cheeks flushed slightly. ‘Dr Kirkman is … my counsellor.’

  ‘I wasn’t aware you had a counselling appointment today,’ Isla continued, still giving him an untrusting evil eye.

  ‘I don’t … I mean, I didn’t … I mean—’

  ‘Would you like me to ask Dr Kirkman to leave, Mrs Granger?’

  Alex remained still. On the one hand, allowing Kirkman in would only reinforce the police view that she was somehow cracking up, yet it would also be good to talk with a familiar face, free from the usual judgement.

  Pulling the door wider, Alex ignored Isla’s question. ‘Do come in, Dr Kirkman.’

  He stepped into the house, and Alex steered him towards the living room. She was about to follow him in, when Isla reached for her arm, pulling her close.

  ‘Just be careful what you tell him. Your name is already in the public arena after yesterday. The last thing you need is more rumours leaking—’

  Alex pulled her arm free, speaking in a hard whisper. ‘What leaked yesterday didn’t come from my side. Just remember that. I trust Dr Kirkman, and what I discuss with him will remain private.’

  She didn’t wait for a challenge, instead heading into the living room and closing the door behind her. Kirkman was standing by the patio doors, staring out into the garden.

  ‘You have a lovely home,’ he commented.

  ‘You must be joking!’ Alex gasped back. ‘I’m embarrassed by the state of the place.’

  ‘You’re being hard on yourself, Alex. Believe me, next to the state of my flat, this place is a palace.’

  They shared a smile, before an uncomfortable silence descended rapidly, with neither sure how to move past small talk to what was on both of their minds.

  ‘Shall we sit?’ he eventually suggested, and Alex nodded, delicately perching in her usual spot, while he made himself comfortable on the larger sofa. ‘I do just want to reassure you again that I didn’t share the nature of any of our conversations with the detectives who visited. I can’t stress enough the importance of patient-doctor confidentiality. All I confirmed was that I had seen you in the past, and that I hadn’t seen you recently. They already seemed to know those details anyway.’

  Ray had probably told them all about her alleged breakdown following the miscarriage. She was certain that Trent already thought she’d made up Carol-Anne’s disappearance, and she had probably hoped Kirkman would confirm just how batty she was.

  Kirkman rested his elbows on his knees, interlocking his fingers into a bridge for his chin to rest on. ‘Would you like to tell me what’s been going on, Alex?’

  ‘I’m not sure where to start.’

  ‘Okay, then perhaps I may ask you a question?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Why did
you stop coming to see me?’

  Alex studied his face, looking for any trace of hurt or any sign that he had taken her absence personally. ‘I …’ She took a deep breath. ‘To be honest, I didn’t think the sessions were helping anymore.’

  His face remained emotionless. ‘And the medication I recommended, are you still taking that?’

  She began to nod before realizing it was pointless lying. He’d probably already checked with her GP and would know she hadn’t requested a repeat prescription in several weeks. ‘They were making me feel nauseous all the time. I was a shadow of myself when I was taking them. And I need all my faculties about me if I’m to return to work, so I gradually stopped taking them. I’ve been so much better since,’ she added to alleviate any growing concern he might have been feeling.

  ‘That’s good,’ he said with a smile. ‘I’m pleased you seem to be approaching the light at the end of your tunnel. I wish you’d let me know this was your plan, so I could have been on hand to provide support. It’s positive news that you’re feeling better.’ He lowered his hands to his lap. ‘There’s a stigma attached to the broad range of mental health conditions that are talked about these days. People always assume that once you start seeking counselling and are prescribed antidepressants it’s a life sentence. That isn’t the case. There are plenty of success stories: men and women like you who make changes in their lives, and manage to drag themselves into better mental health. I’m really pleased for you, Alex. Genuinely.’

  She didn’t doubt that he was. In the months she’d been a regular visitor to his office, he’d never once given her the impression that his motives towards her were anything but supportive. She’d been referred by her GP, so the cost was covered by the NHS, and he always seemed pleased to see her, never pressed her to talk about anything she didn’t want to, and never passed judgement on the terrible thoughts she’d shared with him.

  ‘Thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t call you to explain all this. I guess … I wasn’t convinced that I would manage to break the cycle, and I didn’t want to do anything to tempt fate.’

  ‘I understand, and it makes me glad that I made the effort to come here today to check on you.’ He paused, looking around the room, before plucking up the courage to look back at her again. ‘Can I ask you a second question?’

  She already knew what he was going to ask before the words tumbled from his mouth.

  ‘Why is there a police officer in your kitchen, and why did those detectives come and speak to me yesterday?’

  There was no point in dressing up the truth. No version of the event made it look any better than it was. ‘Someone abducted my daughter from a car park on Tuesday afternoon. The police are searching for her and the man who took her.’

  Kirkman remained silent. Alex sensed he was studying her body language, tinted by all she had shared with him previously.

  ‘The little girl in the televised appeal: that was your daughter?’

  Alex nodded despite the sting of tears in her eyes. ‘You must be the only person who didn’t know.’

  ‘Now that I think about it … yes, I can see the family resemblance. At the risk of asking an obvious question: how are you feeling?’

  The words were said with such sincerity that she couldn’t help the tears running down her cheeks. ‘Like I failed her.’

  ‘You blame yourself for what happened?’

  Her voice cracked with the strain. ‘It was my fault.’

  ‘It’s natural for a mother to blame herself when something bad happens to their child. Unless you were the one who directly harmed your daughter, then it’s not your fault.’

  ‘I left her in the car unattended. Had I taken her with me to the ticket machine, none of this would have happened. It is my fault.’ As she spoke the words, finally admitting what she’d been so afraid to accept, the burden of guilt lifted just a fraction, for just a moment.

  30

  Leaning back in his chair, Ray didn’t want his imagination to run amok but he had little way of preventing it. Having been escorted back out of the Major Incident Room where the operation was in full force, he no longer had access to Trent and the team, which meant he was no longer entrusted in the inner circle.

  He wanted to phone Alex and demand an answer to why she had driven to Fleet. To contact her would be to warn her of what was coming, and he was duty-bound not to let anything slip. Wasn’t he also duty-bound to stop Trent making a fool of herself by ordering a search of the Fleet Pond Nature Reserve? She had to be wrong, right? Alex couldn’t have …

  He couldn’t bring himself to finish the thought. Alex was many things, but a killer? No way.

  Absolutely not!

  This was the woman he had fallen in love with at first sight. The woman he had vowed to marry and cherish. The woman who had carried Carol-Anne for nine months, and was besotted with their daughter.

  Trent had to be way off base.

  He froze as his mind continued to process everything he knew.

  This was also the woman he had grown apart from. He still loved her – he thought – even though they weren’t as close as they once were. That was his fault. He was the one who had changed, hadn’t he? He was the one who had strayed; Alex was still Alex.

  Wasn’t she?

  He leapt to his feet, pacing the room. This was getting him nowhere. He needed to know what was going on in the Incident Room. He needed to know whether Trent had withheld anything from him. They said they knew Alex had stopped for half an hour in Fleet, but they hadn’t said how they knew. Which meant they had to have held something back. What could it be? What could they possibly have that made them so certain Alex had driven Carol-Anne to the nature reserve and left her there?

  Half an hour wasn’t long enough to dig a grave; at least, not a very deep one. And Alex wouldn’t be stupid enough to think she could cover up such a crime by fabricating an abduction story. Would she?

  ‘Jeez, you’re going to wear a hole in that carpet,’ DS Jodie Crichton said, as she arrived in MIR-2, a stack of papers precariously held in her arms. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘They think Alex killed our daughter,’ he said without missing a beat.

  Jodie’s eyes widened, but she didn’t respond, presumably not wanting to be dragged into a conversation that could one day be reviewed by the Professional Standards governing board.

  He met her gaze. ‘I need to know what’s going on in that room. Can you go in there and relay to me?’

  ‘Only if I want to be suspended for interfering with an active investigation. You know I can’t do that, Ray.’

  He hadn’t expected her to agree. ‘Please? I hate to ask. If …’ His voice cracked under the strain. ‘If Carol-Anne is dead, then I deserve to know.’

  Jodie looked like she wished she was anywhere else but in the room with him. ‘I’m sorry, Ray, you know I can’t. The best thing you can do is go home and wait for Trent to update you. I’m surprised to even find you in here now.’

  ‘I don’t want to go home,’ he growled. ‘How can I look at Alex, knowing what they think she’s done?’

  Jodie bit her lip. ‘I would help you if I could – you know I would – but I’m not on that investigation and have even less business being in there than you.’

  ‘You could just make up an excuse to go in there.’ He snapped his fingers together. ‘You could go and give Trent an update on our progress and while you’re in there, casually ask how things are progressing.’

  ‘Are you kidding? She would see it coming a mile off. She was the one who paired you with me, so I could keep you away from the case. Remember? If I go in there, she’ll know I’m doing it for you, and she’ll have me on paid suspension before the sun sets. I’m sorry, Ray, you have to let it go.’

  ‘Would you let it go if you were in my shoes?’

  He was being unreasonable, but what choice did he have? Just asking Jodie to spy on the team for him was grounds for a disciplinary hearing. If allowing his career to go up in smoke
brought him closer to the truth about his daughter, wasn’t it worth it?

  Jodie lowered the papers to the desk and let out a long sigh. ‘I would hate it, but yes I would, because I know the rules.’

  It was no use keeping on at her. It had been a risk to even ask Jodie to get involved, and he now regretted broaching the topic with her. He knew, too, that Owen wouldn’t dare risk his neck anymore than he already had. Ray was running out of options.

  If he couldn’t get into MIR-1 and there was nobody who would keep him in the loop, he could only think of one possible solution, but it would mean risking everything he had worked so hard for.

  His mind made up, he reached for the squad car keys, dropping them into his pocket without Jodie noticing. Reaching for his jacket, he glanced at his watch, surprised to see it was already early afternoon – he had no idea where the day had gone.

  ‘I’m going to grab something to eat. I’ll call you later.’

  Her face was already buried in the files – she was clearly relieved he’d dropped his request.

  Jogging along the corridor to the staircase, he was down the stairs and out of the building in under a minute, and was soon behind the wheel of the car. Starting the engine, he pulled out his phone and searched for the address of his destination. If he was lucky, he’d be at Fleet Pond Nature Reserve within the hour.

  31

  Alex fired up the laptop and tilted the screen so Kirkman would be able to see it. ‘You’ll see what I mean in a moment.’

  ‘I have to admit,’ Kirkman said, taking up the seat next to Alex, ‘I saw the televised appeal, but never in a million years did I think it could relate to one of my patients.’

  ‘The woman in charge – DI Trent – said they would keep our names away from the appeal, for fear of a possible backlash. They might as well have plastered our names all over it for the good it did. Some of the messages and comments have been just … vicious.’