Bring Them Home (Detective Karen Hart Book 1)

by D. S. Butler

  Cathy shot a look at the large kitchen table. Her father’s mobile phone sat on the surface, taunting her. Her fingers itched to pick it up.

  She raked a hand through her hair and blinked back tears. She couldn’t make up her mind. If only she could stop second-guessing herself. When she left the Spar, she’d promised herself she would do it just as soon as she was alone.

  Jasper had gone to the fields to work, and her father was asleep, but still, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She was terrified they’d find out.

  What if her father was only pretending to be asleep? Or what if he checked his bill and found out she had used his phone? She was already hiding his bank statements. If he knew she’d been transferring his money to her account, he’d kill her.

  Cathy shivered and moved a little closer to the fire. It was starting to die down, and she would need to put some more logs on soon. They had a central heating system, which ran on oil that was delivered every four months, but her father said there was no need to have it on during the day.

  Maybe that would be true if they lived in a well-insulated modern cottage, but the windows at the farmhouse weren’t even double-glazed. The walls were thick stone but they didn’t do much to keep out the October chill. Later winter months were even worse.

  Cathy spent most of her time rushing around, attending to the household tasks as well as tending the small number of chickens they kept on the farm. She tried to keep moving so the chill didn’t creep inside her bones. It wasn’t so bad now, but when the cold snaps arrived in January and February, it would be unbearable.

  Her father didn’t mind at all. He spent his days sitting beside the fire they always kept burning, which meant she had to clean it out every morning on her hands and knees. The rest of the house could be frigid with cold, and he wouldn’t care. Last winter, she’d had ice on the inside of her bedroom window.

  She stared at her father with dislike. His face was gaunt, and his once tall, strong frame looked withered as he slumped in his wheelchair. Look, she told herself, there’s nothing to be scared of. What’s he going to do to you? He wouldn’t be able to catch you anyway.

  She needed to do it. It was the right thing to do, and if she didn’t get it out of the way now . . .

  Cathy scurried over to the kitchen table. Quietly she pulled out a chair and sat down, then slowly picked up the small black phone.

  She didn’t have a mobile of her own. Her father wouldn’t allow it.

  She’d once dreamed of getting away from here. When she was younger, she’d believed if she could just escape, she would blossom, an ugly duckling into a swan, but of course, real life wasn’t like that. Cathy had no fight left in her, and even if she wanted to leave, there was no one who would take her in.

  It hadn’t always been so bad. When her father was fit and well, he would be out of the house for most of the day, and Cathy had enjoyed her time alone. Even Jasper was less of a tyrant back then. There was a time when he used to talk to Cathy about the girls he’d met at the pub and even asked for her advice on what clothes to wear on his dates. But gradually things changed. Now he’d started to treat her just as their father did, like a doormat. She was just somebody who waited on them, no better than a servant. Though Jasper had never hurt her, not like their father.

  Cathy ran her fingers over the smooth black plastic casing. She was trembling. Why was it so hard to do the right thing? She pulled out a scrap of paper from her pocket and studied the number she’d scribbled down and then slowly began to key in the digits.

  She was halfway through the number when she heard a noise outside. Who was that? Jasper was supposed to be in the fields. Flustered, she panicked and cancelled the call.

  She got to her feet, scraping the chair legs on the flagstones. Looking around wildly for somewhere to put the phone so she wouldn’t be suspected of using it, she dashed around the kitchen.

  She heard her father groan as he awoke from his nap.

  Heart pounding, she darted towards the small cabinet just behind his wheelchair. Maybe he’d think he’d left it there himself. She had taken it from his pocket but didn’t dare put it back now that he was half awake.

  She looked out of the window and saw Jasper walking towards the back door.

  With a heavy heart, Cathy walked towards the sink and filled the kettle. She had to behave normally.

  She had failed. She should have acted earlier. This had been her chance to put things right. Maybe she wouldn’t get another.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Before they headed back to the station, DI Morgan and Karen called in to check up on the search. In the first few hours after the girls went missing there had been a sense of urgency, but now the girls had been missing for so long that fatigue had affected every civilian and officer involved.

  The search team moved with weariness and sad resignation. Karen hated to admit it but the chances of them finding the girls alive at this point were not good.

  The local residents had been amazing, coming together to join in the search as well as providing cups of tea and snacks for those combing the area. But the sense of futility and sadness now weighed heavily on them all.

  As they made their way back to Nettleham headquarters, Karen tried to work out the puzzle of Leanne Gibson and Matthew Saunders. That little bombshell certainly had come as a surprise, but she supposed it made sense. At least it explained Leanne’s odd reaction to Matthew when she’d rushed to the school after finding out Sian was missing.

  ‘Do you think Thomas Gibson found out about his wife’s affair and decided to take the girls to teach her a lesson . . . To scare her?’

  DI Morgan pulled a face as he reversed neatly into a parking spot at Nettleham police station. ‘I don’t think so. It would be a pretty extreme reaction, and besides, why would he take Emily as well?’

  ‘You’re right. It makes no sense. What are we going to do about it?’

  DI Morgan shrugged as he locked the car. ‘I’ll try to broach it with Leanne when I go to see the Gibson family this afternoon. It won’t be easy. Obviously, she’s consumed with worry about Sian, and quite frankly, I don’t think the affair is going to have much impact on our investigation, but I have to ask.’

  Karen nodded and they walked in silence back into the station.

  Upstairs, the main office was a hive of activity. DI Freeman’s team were now working on the case full-time as well. Instead of going straight to his own office, DI Morgan perched on the edge of Karen’s desk. He called Rick and Sophie over for an impromptu briefing.

  Karen could sense his frustration. There was something in this case they were missing, and they’d been distracted by too many false leads and secrets.

  He brought Rick and Sophie up to date and then said, ‘Right, let’s have a brainstorming session. What do we have so far?’

  ‘Jasper Palmer found the glove,’ Karen said.

  DI Morgan nodded slowly. ‘What else?’

  ‘We’ve ruled out the man seen at Washingborough Primary School,’ Karen said. ‘We now know that was Les Greenwood.’

  ‘Yes, and we’ve discovered that Matthew Saunders was having an affair with Leanne Gibson, but we can’t see any reason why that would give someone a motive to take both girls,’ DI Morgan said with a sigh.

  ‘And the preliminary results on Sian’s uncle, Nick Gibson, have come back,’ Sophie said. ‘His computer and mobile phone are both clean. There’s nothing that links him to the abduction. And his alibi checks out. He was caught on a CCTV camera just minutes after the time the girls went missing.’

  ‘So we come back to the Palmers,’ Karen said.

  ‘What evidence do we have against them apart from the glove?’ Sophie asked.

  ‘Amy Fisher worked in one of the outbuildings on the Palmers’ farm before she disappeared.’

  ‘That isn’t related to this case, though, and it could be a coincidence,’ DI Morgan said.

  Karen tried not to show her irritation. ‘I don’t belie
ve in coincidences.’

  She clenched her fists. Why couldn’t she keep quiet? These outbursts weren’t helping. They wouldn’t persuade her colleagues to take her seriously. If anything, they’d make them wonder if she was losing the plot.

  DI Morgan didn’t rise to the bait. ‘Obviously, we’re still going to follow up with the Palmers.’ He turned to Rick. ‘Rick, do you have the maps handy showing the outbuildings on the Palmers’ farm?’

  Rick nodded and shuffled through the paperwork on his desk before passing a few sheets of paper to DI Morgan.

  DI Morgan flicked through them and then handed them on to Karen. ‘Rick has double-checked the outbuildings against the list of what’s been searched. Everything matches. There’s no sign the girls have ever been there.’

  Karen looked at the various charts. There used to be an old barn close to the farmhouse, which was converted and divided into artists’ studios. The Palmers had been raking it in at one point. They’d had a few small companies and artists renting the space over the years. While Amy was renting a workspace there, three others had used the studios. They all left after Amy disappeared. The tenants had all been questioned exhaustively and eliminated from the investigation early on. ‘Did anyone search the studios? I think they’ve been empty since Amy went missing.’

  Rick reached over and flicked through the papers before pulling out the third sheet and pointing at it. ‘Yes, and there’s somebody renting one at the moment, using it for pottery.’

  ‘And have we looked into them?’

  Rick nodded. ‘Sophie has.’

  Sophie shrugged and looked apologetic. ‘Nothing interesting, I’m afraid. A fifty-year-old woman called Susan May. She’s been there for about six months.’

  Karen frowned. ‘I’m surprised anyone wanted to rent from the Palmers after what happened to Amy.’

  Sophie shrugged. ‘Mrs May said she thought Amy had run off. She knew her from when she was young and said she was a flighty young thing.’

  That annoyed Karen more than it should have done. She was convinced Amy Fisher hadn’t run away. Christine knew the Fisher family well and she’d not seen anything to indicate Amy was unhappy. Besides, people didn’t just run away and leave money in their bank account like that. Not when they were doing well. She’d had everything to live for. There were no signs she suffered from depression. Everything Karen had learned suggested Amy had been enjoying life just like a nineteen-year-old should. If anything, Amy was more mature than most nineteen-year-olds. She’d set up a business and was renting her own place when most nineteen-year-olds were getting drunk at university or still living with their parents.

  ‘I suppose it’s too early to have anything back from the tech lab on Phil Carver’s computer?’ DI Morgan asked.

  ‘Well, I did chase the tech team earlier. Harinder has been really helpful. He knows we’re anxious for the results,’ Sophie said. ‘The trouble is, he reckons some software’s been used on both computers to wipe certain areas of the hard drive.’

  ‘I knew he’d try something like that,’ Karen said and then cursed. ‘I’d hoped we’d got to him before he had a chance.’

  ‘We might still have a chance. You know Harinder is pretty much a genius.’ Sophie flushed a little, and Karen wondered if Sophie had developed a crush on the tech wizard. ‘Well, he’s confident he can rescue the files, but it’ll take a little time.’

  ‘You didn’t mention that to me,’ Rick said, clearly put out. ‘I was sitting opposite you when you called him.’

  ‘I didn’t think it was important,’ Sophie said. ‘I could handle it, and there’s nothing to report until Harinder has discovered what’s in those deleted files.’

  ‘You still should have mentioned it,’ Rick said.

  Sophie opened her mouth to retaliate, but Karen put up her hand. ‘Enough. Sophie, keep us all updated on the content of those files. If we’re lucky, Phil Carver may have screwed up, and Harinder could save this case.’

  Sophie pouted, but Karen ignored her and stared down at the maps again, reading Rick’s careful handwritten notes beside each outbuilding.

  DI Morgan began to talk to Sophie about Leanne Gibson’s extramarital affair, and Karen turned her attention to Rick. He looked tired, and she’d never known him to be so quiet and grumpy. She’d been too harsh on him again earlier. It was a well-known fact stress could drive officers to drink.

  As Rick ran a weary hand over his face, Karen felt a pang of sympathy. Perhaps when this case was done and dusted, she’d try again. Sometimes the most important step was admitting you had a problem. Maybe Rick needed some encouragement to take that step.

  The team were going through progress reports and planning the future direction of the investigation when the phone rang on Sophie’s desk. She got up, pushed her chair back and quickly picked up the handset.

  Rick was running through some background information on a couple of leads generated from members of the public calling the designated line, but Karen was only half listening. She was watching Sophie.

  The young detective constable’s grasp tightened on the phone and her eyes widened. She looked back at the team as she replied to whoever was calling.

  Was it Harinder? His colleagues had nicknamed him Harry due to his computer wizardry, and they could really use some of his magic right now to move the case along.

  Even though Sophie didn’t utter a word, Karen sat forward in her chair, waiting for her to finish the call. Everything about her body language suggested this was promising information.

  After a moment she put her hand over the bottom of the handset and said, ‘I think we have something. I’ve got the tech unit on the phone and you should speak to them, sir. It’s Harinder.’

  Sophie held out the phone for DI Morgan.

  Rick clapped his hands together. ‘Good old Harry!’

  Karen didn’t dare celebrate yet.

  As DI Morgan talked to Harinder, Sophie told Karen and Rick what the tech unit had unearthed. ‘They managed to get into Phil Carver’s computer and retrieve the deleted files. From his files and online browsing history, they were able to determine he’s a member of various online groups and forums.’

  Karen could guess where this was going. ‘What sort of groups?’

  ‘Groups where they swap photos of children, indecent images, and talk about disgusting things.’ Karen knew Sophie was trying to be calm and objective, but her face betrayed her true feelings. She shuddered. ‘It sounds pretty bad. They’re going to send an initial report to DI Morgan, and Harinder believes the evidence could be strong enough to get a conviction even if Phil Carver has nothing to do with Emily and Sian’s disappearance.’

  ‘So Harinder hasn’t found anything on the computers that relates to Emily or Sian?’

  ‘Not yet, but it sounds like there’s a lot of material for him to go through. If DI Morgan approves the request, Harinder can get more specialists assigned to help him sift through all the electronic evidence.’

  ‘I’ve given him full approval,’ DI Morgan said, hanging up the phone. ‘If he’s so much as mentioned either girl, I want to know about it. Let’s bring him in.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Karen flipped through the report on Phil Carver and felt her skin crawl. She’d been into his home and had had a relatively normal conversation with the man. She hadn’t exactly warmed to him, but she hadn’t suspected him of doing anything as bad as this.

  It reminded her of something drummed into them during training. Criminals didn’t wear signs. They didn’t have ‘murderer’ or ‘paedophile’ tattooed on their foreheads.

  They should have been focusing on this since the moment they’d heard the girls were missing. Why hadn’t anyone mentioned Jenny Dean’s new boyfriend earlier? Had they jeopardised their chances of getting Emily and Sian back, or was it already too late?

  DI Morgan had gone back into his office. They’d already spent some time going over the interview plan, and now they were waiting for Phil
Carver’s arrival at the station. A uniformed unit was on their way to pick him up, and a search team would be going over his flat with a fine-tooth comb.

  Karen had been very tempted to go and arrest Phil Carver herself, but she knew it was more sensible to spend that time planning their interview strategy. The satisfaction of seeing him in cuffs and dragged out of his home would be short-lived. Whereas a strong interview would go a long way to securing a conviction.

  She stood up and stretched, trying to ease the tension growing between her shoulder blades. Pushing the paperwork to one side, she groaned.

  Rick, who was sitting opposite, looked up. ‘Are you all right, Sarge?’

  Karen sighed. ‘Yes, it’s just cases like this . . . they get to you, you know?’

  Rick nodded but said nothing. There wasn’t much he could say. All they could do now was wait.

  A moment later, DI Morgan stuck his head out of his office and called Karen over.

  She stepped into the room and tried to read his expression. He looked intense. Was that good or bad?

  ‘Could you shut the door, please, Karen?’

  She did as he asked. ‘Do we have a problem?’

  Panic fluttered in her chest, and she tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Had the search team already uncovered something at Phil Carver’s flat? Something she and DI Morgan hadn’t seen when they’d been there to question him?

  DI Morgan shook his head. ‘I wanted to ask your opinion on something.’

  Karen was surprised. ‘Okay, fire away.’

  ‘I’d like to take the lead on this interview with Phil Carver.’

  Karen hadn’t expected anything less, and she shrugged. ‘Of course.’

  ‘And I was considering having Sophie in on the interview. What do you think?’

  Karen couldn’t hide her shock. This was an important interview and Sophie was very inexperienced.

  ‘I’m not sure she’d be the best person for the job,’ Karen said carefully.