by Carys Jones
Pressing down on the green call button, Amanda held her breath. It rang out three times before Shane picked up.
‘Hello?’ his voice was tight and surprised.
‘Shane?’ she began shakily. ‘It’s me, Amanda. I need your help.’
6
Amanda sat in front of her laptop, its blue glow providing the only light in the room. She’d spoken with Shane over an hour ago. He’d been formal throughout their conversation, keeping Amanda at arm’s length. But he had offered to help.
Her hands danced across the keys of her laptop. She’d been able to touch-type since she was fourteen. Amanda ran searches on lost people in the local area, searches on Will. But it felt like it was all in vain. She wasn’t finding anything concrete, nothing that could give her solace.
This was to be her second night sleeping alone without Will. Each time Amanda thought of her bed she shuddered apprehensively even though her body was starting to ache and her eyes grew heavy. It was within her bed that she felt the pain of her husband’s disappearance most acutely. She missed hearing the reassuring rumble of his deep breaths, missed rolling over and being able to stretch out a hand and connect with the warmth of his body.
‘Where are you?’ she asked of her laptop. In the past there had been few problems she couldn’t solve with her laptop.
Amanda shifted in her chair, her legs were exposed in the mint green pyjama short set she was wearing and her skin had become mottled with goose bumps. She knew that she should just head to bed but the lure of the laptop and its endless possibilities for connectivity held her in place, just as it had when she was a teenager.
Corrine would lament that Amanda was going to get square eyes as each time she cracked open her daughter’s bedroom door the girl was cross-legged on her bed cradling her computer in her lap, staring intently at the screen as though it were the most wondrous thing she’d ever seen.
‘Bed,’ Corrine would snap, clicking her fingers as she gave the order.
‘In a minute.’ Amanda was always vying for another minute, another sixty seconds to spend exploring her beloved virtual world.
‘Bed now or I’ll take that damn thing off you.’ Corrine wasn’t the kind of woman to make idle threats. Amanda would swiftly sign off and shut down her computer, pouting as she did so.
Now Amanda didn’t have to worry about her mother bursting in and demanding she turn off her computer. She didn’t even have to worry about Will moaning that it was late and she should come to bed. She was completely alone in the house with only her laptop for company.
*
There is something about the dense cover of night that calls out to dark deeds. Beneath the scrutiny of the light of day certain ideas might be forsaken. But at night, with only shadows prowling the streets, it was easier for the heart’s darker desires to take hold.
Amanda was feeling drawn to such darkness. Or more specifically a dark place; the darknet. It was an area of the Internet away from the prying eyes of government officials, a place where deadly deals were struck and illegal goods exchanged with the ease of shopping on Amazon. It was a place Amanda had found when she was sixteen. She’d heard whispers of it in chat rooms, and one dark night, as the wind made the waves in the bay rise up and crash against the rugged shoreline, she summoned up enough bravery and curiosity to check it out for herself. And from then on she was hooked. Amanda loved the anonymity of the darknet, the way it seemed to exist beyond the fringes of society. That was how she felt as a teenager; always on the outside looking in.
As Amanda became more proficient with her computer skills, she became more present on the darknet. She started to hack. By the time she went to university she was hacking for money. Her hacker ID was Lambchop, a sentimental nod to a television show she’d loved growing up.
Hacking could bring in serious money. Amanda hacked websites, email accounts, even security networks to access their CCTV data. She used to feel empowered as she sat at home in her dingy bedroom conducting grand scale espionage. She felt like Tremwell Bay’s very own Batman. When she was on the darknet she got to play at being a superhero.
Amanda now had three windows open on her laptop. They each contained Will’s social media accounts. Her fingers hovered just above the keyboard, twitching with anticipation. She could so easily hack into his accounts, see what, if any, secrets he was hiding from her. Chewing her lip, Amanda stared at the screen.
Will’s page was sparse. He gave the most basic information about himself and used a profile picture that he’d clearly shot on his phone. The image did little to capture what a powerful, charismatic man he was. Amanda stared into the eyes of the picture, willing it to reveal some secret to her.
‘Come home, baby,’ she pleaded with the account. ‘Argh,’ Amanda pushed herself away from the laptop and buried her head in her hands. Thinking about the darknet had opened up a can of rotten worms in her mind.
What if someone had taken Will? What if he was now being tortured? Amanda groaned helplessly as she imagined him in some damp, dingy basement screaming in agony as a grizzly faced man used a rusted knife to hack off one of his fingers.
Was her hacker past catching up with her? Amanda looked up at her laptop in shock. What if the very thing she’d turned to for comfort for so many years had finally turned against her? When Lambchop’s online activity was at its peak she was being hired to target big, global companies. Household names. It was Shane who’d encouraged her to step away from that murky world. But still she couldn’t resist its pull. Only last year she’d secretly aided a group of hackers in bringing down an exclusive dating site that catered to those who were married and wanted to commit adultery. She didn’t do it out of some moral code, she did it for the rush, to feel powerful.
But what if she’d gone too far? What if someone was now punishing Will for Lambchop’s past?
Amanda was trembling as she pulled herself closer to her desk. If Will hadn’t been taken from her then he’d left of his own free will. And what did that mean? Amanda was staring at his profile again. If she ran a few programs, enabled a keystroke memory search she could log in. The whole process would take less than twenty minutes.
‘Your past is going to come back to haunt you,’ Shane had warned back when they were together and he’d learned just how deep the rabbit hole for Lambchop went.
‘Damn it,’ Amanda let her fingers fly across the keyboard. She executed the relevant searches, began the initial sequences which would allow her to access Will’s social media accounts. ‘What are you hiding, baby?’ she asked of the screen as the laptop whirred.
The progress bar was almost complete. Amanda was seconds away from complete, unauthorized access to Will’s limited digital world. She licked her lips in anticipation. Maybe now she’d get some answers.
The doorbell rang. It was so loud, so crystal-clear and unexpected that it sounded like someone screaming throughout the house and left Amanda just as startled. Her heart was in her throat as she pushed away from her desk and hurried on to the landing. Just as her feet connected with the staircase she stopped. It was late. Way past ten. Who would be coming by at such an hour? With her hand resting on the painted white wood of the banister she peered down suspiciously into the shadows of the hallway.
Could it be Will? But he had a key, surely he’d just let himself in?
The doorbell rang again.
‘Shit,’ Amanda nervously powered down the stairs. In the hallway she could see through the front door and beyond its upper glass panel was the unmistakable shadow of a figure.
‘Shit,’ Amanda repeated under her breath. She glanced towards the cordless phone resting in its cradle on a nearby side table. She edged herself towards it, prepared to call the police if she had to.
‘Who is it?’ she shouted out, thankful that the quaking in her bones hadn’t carried through to her voice.
‘It’s me. Shane.’
Amanda gasped in shock. Her body weakened with relief but her heart maintained its anxi
ous palpitations.
‘Just a second,’ she called as she approached the door and unlocked it. Pulling it open, Amanda found Shane on her doorstep. He was in a grey suit, white shirt and black skinny tie. Clearly he’d just come from work. His hair was shorter than it had been when he was with Amanda, but he was still able to style it, flicking it forward with gel. His cheeks were freshly shaved, revealing the impressive profile of his jawline.
‘Sorry to stop by so late,’ Shane noted apologetically.
Amanda opened and closed her mouth several times as she debated what to say. She hadn’t expected Shane to just show up at her house. She figured any interactions they had would be at the station.
Shane’s gaze dropped, taking in her bare legs.
‘Come in,’ Amanda stepped aside, hugging her arms around herself self-consciously.
‘Nice place,’ Shane commented as he stepped in. Amanda flicked on all the lights, revealing the modern space in all its glory. She reached for a cardigan that was hanging on a coat rack and gratefully hugged it around herself.
‘Thanks,’ Amanda smiled courteously at him.
‘It’s very… new,’ Shane offered, his tone guarded.
‘I like new,’ Amanda bristled as she led him into the kitchen. When they stepped inside, she saw Shane sweep his gaze around the room, taking it all in.
‘Coffee?’ she enquired politely.
‘Sure,’ Shane cleared his throat. ‘Thanks.’ He sat down on one of the white plastic stools beside the kitchen counter. The percolator grumbled to life as Amanda drifted over to where he was. She almost wanted to laugh at how surreal it was to see him sitting in her kitchen.
‘Were you working late?’
‘Yeah,’ Shane reached for his tie and loosened it.
‘You always were… passionate, about the job,’ Amanda chose her words carefully. Shane had offered to help her, she didn’t want to be the cause of yet another argument between them. Towards the end of their relationship it felt like all they did was argue.
‘Uh-huh,’ Shane scratched at his cheek. He looked uncomfortable. The percolator ceased gurgling and Amanda hurried back to it, grateful for the distraction it had provided.
‘And you’re behaving yourself these days, right?’ Shane asked as her back was to him, pouring them both a mug of coffee.
‘Me?’ Amanda’s eyes were wide with innocence as she passed him his drink.
‘You, Lambchop,’ Shane cracked a smile.
‘Oh,’ Amanda blushed and leaned against the counter, choosing not to sit down. If she did she’d be on the stool right beside Shane and she’d risk their legs brushing up against each other and that felt too close for comfort. This was still the home she shared with Will; she had to be respectful towards her husband even in his absence.
‘So you’re not hacking?’ Shane raised his eyebrows at her.
‘I’m all legit now,’ Amanda smirked at him, ‘I run my own website design company from home.’ Her laptop resting just a few feet above upstairs told a different story but Amanda was always careful to conceal her digital tracks. Shane couldn’t uncover the truth about her internet history even if he wanted to.
‘Sounds good.’
‘It is.’
‘So where do you think your husband is?’ Shane blurted the question, destroying the friendly atmosphere that had tentatively developed between them.
‘What?’ Amanda lowered her mug.
‘Where do you think he is?’
‘If I knew that he wouldn’t be missing, would he?’ Amanda replied sharply.
‘I need to ask some awkward questions,’ Shane reached inside his jacket and brought out a small black Moleskin notepad and pen.
‘Okay,’ Amanda hugged the ends of her cardigan, the garment did little to fight off the cold which made her shiver. So this was a work call after all. Shane hadn’t swung by merely to check in on her. Amanda hated herself for feeling disappointed.
‘How would you describe your relationship with your husband?’ Shane’s pen hovered over his notepad.
‘Excuse me?’
‘Were things good between you two? Or strained at all?’
‘Good,’ Amanda snapped, wondering what sort of a question that was to ask, especially given her and Shane’s complicated history. ‘Good, very good. Great even.’
‘Okay…’ Shane scribbled a note. ‘And to your knowledge your husband had never engaged in relations beyond your marriage?’
‘Are you asking me if he had an affair?’ Amanda was on the verge of tears. She could feel them gathering behind her eyes, hot and heavy.
‘Like I said, these questions are awkward,’ Shane sighed apologetically. ‘But in a lot of cases like these the missing person has actually just returned to another family.’
Amanda pressed a hand to her chest and breathed deeply. There was no way Will had another wife tucked away somewhere, another life. Was there? But the possibility gnawed at her, came for her in her most vulnerable moments. Every woman who’d ever been cheated on surely felt blindsided, believed that their betrothed loved them. And Will loved Amanda. He loved their modern little home. Just last week he’d come out of work to fix a flat tyre for her when she’d gone out shopping. She didn’t even have to ask. She’d texted him as she walked into the store, moaning that one of her tyres appeared to be flat and by the time she came out laden down with shopping bags she spotted Will’s van parked up beside her little car and him crouched down beside it, tightening the few remaining nuts and bolts on a new tyre. Because that was the kind of man Will Thorn was; decent and reliable. He wasn’t the sort of guy who’d be living a double life.
‘We just have to explore all possibilities,’ Shane stated gently. Amanda wiped a hand across her eyes and stared at him.
There was no denying that all suited up Shane Perton was a devastatingly handsome man. His green eyes permanently sparkled as though he were forever privy to some sordid secret. He had sharp, chiselled features and long limbs which he’d grown into since his awkward days of puberty. But when Amanda looked at him she still saw the boy with the mullet haircut in the baggy Linkin Park T-shirts. The boy who tasted of cigarettes and cider the first time he’d kissed her out on the beach beneath the stars.
‘So when did you last see Will?’
‘The other morning,’ Amanda recalled. She hated that the memory was already growing less vivid in her mind. Like when you watch a film and before you’ve even left the cinema’s car park you’re forgetting elements of the plot.
‘You saw him leave?’
‘No, he must have left while I was sleeping.’ Amanda noticed Shane’s jaw clench. No matter how heatedly they argued, how many vile words they slung at one another, Shane had always kissed her goodbye each morning, always. He would kiss her as she drifted off to sleep and come the morning she’d wake up to his lips grazing hers and soft sunlight filling the tiny bedroom they shared. To disappear like a thief in the night had never been Shane’s style.
He scribbled something in his notepad, not meeting her gaze. ‘Can you remember what your last words to Will were?’
Amanda opened her mouth and then snapped it shut. She actually couldn’t remember what she’d last said to him. When she’d come up to bed the previous night he’d already been sleeping, tucked away on his side of the bed beyond her reach. Then when she’d woken up he was gone. Amanda gripped the kitchen counter and released a single sob.
‘Hey,’ Shane was instantly on his feet. He ran around to her and looped a strong arm around her thin waist. ‘It’s okay.’
He was so close, Amanda could smell his cologne. He smelt like liquorice and oranges. ‘I,’ she was shaking her head, wishing her memories of that last night with Will were sharper, less dulled by time and an inability in the moment to know how vital they would prove to be. ‘I don’t remember,’ she wilted against Shane. ‘I don’t remember,’ she repeated as tears came tumbling down her cheeks. ‘What if those were the last words I ever get to say to him a
nd I don’t remember them?’
‘It’s okay, it’ll be all right,’ Shane whispered soothingly as he guided her on to a nearby stool and handed her a coffee.
‘We will find your husband,’ Shane told her, his voice strong with determination. Amanda gazed woefully into his bright eyes as he used his warm hands to wipe the tears from her cheeks.
‘What if we don’t?’ she choked out the question.
‘We will,’ Shane confirmed, still certain. Amanda had always admired his unwavering faith in there being good in the world. But his optimism had been one of things that ultimately drove a wedge between them. Where Shane saw goodness and possibility, Amanda saw only darkness.
‘Why…’ Amanda sniffed, wishing she could stop crying. ‘Why would he leave me?’
‘I don’t know,’ Shane’s hands were still on her cheeks. His touch was so warm, banishing away the shivers which had previously gripped her body. ‘But I can promise you that he regrets leaving.’
Shane was so close, staring at her like he used to; as though she were the most precious thing he had ever seen. He opened his mouth to speak but before he could get any words out his phone started to shrilly bleat in his suit pocket. Clearing his throat nervously, Shane stepped back from her, straightened up and accepted the call.
Shane lowered his voice but not enough as he headed into the hallway. ‘Hey, babe.’
Amanda sighed. She wiped away any remaining tears and hoped that Shane was right, that if Will had willingly left her that he’d come to see the error of his ways, that he’d come home.
*
‘Jake?’
The road was an endless parade of cats eyes which glistened away into the darkness. Jake shook himself awake, raking his hand down his face.
‘You all right, man? You seemed like you were dozing off there for a bit. Need me to take over?’
In the shadows of the truck, Billy looked young. Too young. Life hadn’t hardened him the way it had Jake.
