Her Missing Daughter: A Gripping Psychological Thriller

by D. S. Butler

  Sienna shook her head. “They’re still inside the house, but I’m not sure if they know who did it.”

  “You’d better get your things,” Janet said. “I’ll drive you back to Grandma’s.”

  Sienna took a step back and shook her head. “Thanks, but I want to stay here.” She looked at Steve.

  He sighed and stood up, the lounger creaking when it was free from his weight. “I think you’ll be safer at your grandmother’s.”

  Sienna shook her head again, more vigorously this time. “No. It’s not fair. I want to stay here.”

  “I don’t even know if we will be allowed to stay, Sienna. The police might not be finished with the house for some time.”

  “Well, where are you going to stay?”

  Steve lifted his palms. “I don’t know. I’ll stay here if they are finished, or I’ll have to check into a hotel.”

  “Then I’ll do that, too,” Sienna said firmly and then glanced at me. “I want to stay with Abbie and Steve.”

  Sienna wanted to stay in familiar surroundings. That was understandable. She wasn’t as scared as she had been when we’d first got back to the house and discovered the break-in. I wondered if that was because she’d guessed, as I had, it was Toby Walsh behind the break-in.

  Marilyn’s eyes filled with tears at the rejection, and my heart went out to her. She only wanted to protect her granddaughter.

  Janet turned on me, her eyes flashing angrily. “Well, thank you very much, Abbie,” she said sarcastically.

  “What have I done?”

  “You’ve turned Sienna against her family. It didn’t take you long. What stories have you been feeding her?”

  Stories? I had no idea what Janet was talking about. This was nothing but irrational jealousy. Sienna didn’t want to stay at Yew Tree House because of me. She wanted to stay here because it was her home and she felt safe with her stepfather.

  “Don’t, Janet,” Marilyn said putting a hand on her daughter’s arm. “This situation is bad enough without us getting into an argument.”

  Janet shook her head slowly and her eyes narrowed as she glared at me. “You may have fooled the rest of them, Abbie, but I’ve got the measure of you.” She looked at her mother. “I’ll wait in the car.”

  Janet turned and marched across the lawn towards the garden gate.

  Marilyn dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. “Are you sure Sienna, darling? I’d feel so much better if you were safe with me for a few days.”

  “Thanks, Grandma. But I’d really prefer to stay at home. The family liaison officer is going to stay with us for a few days, so we’re going to be safe.”

  Marilyn drew her granddaughter in for a hug. “Okay, darling. Let me know if you change your mind.”

  “I will. Love you.”

  “I love you, too, darling, very much.” Marilyn kissed her on the cheek and then turned to Steve. “Keep a close eye on things, won’t you?”

  “Of course. I’ll let you know how things go here. Fingers crossed we’ll be back in the house in a couple of hours and be able to clear up.”

  “I hope so. It was lucky only a couple of rooms were affected, I suppose.” Marilyn struggled to smile. Then she turned to me. “Abbie, I do appreciate you keeping an eye on Sienna, and I know Nicole would be very grateful.”

  She’d surprised me. I’d been feeling so defensive after Janet’s attack, and the frosty way both Marilyn and Janet had treated me over the past week or so. It hurt me more than I’d realised.

  I was touched and my eyes filled with tears. “Thanks, Marilyn.”

  She kissed me on the cheek and then said, “I’ll be getting home now. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help.”

  Sienna linked her arm through her grandmother’s and walked her around the side of the house towards Janet’s car.

  I let out a deep breath and sat back down on a garden chair as Steve reclined on the lounger.

  “What is it between you and Janet?” he asked me.

  That was a very good question. And one that was hard to answer. The difficulties in our relationship went back years and were tied to Janet’s strained relationship with Nicole. Janet had been jealous of her sister, and that jealousy had eaten away at her and left her a bitter shell of a woman.

  “When we were younger, there was a bit of rivalry between Nicole and Janet. Obviously, as I was Nicole’s friend, Janet saw me as the enemy. I suppose it’s something most sisters grow out of, but Janet seems to hold onto that bitterness.”

  I squinted in the sun and then turned to face Steve. “Were Janet and Nicole getting along better recently?”

  “Not really. I suppose I only ever saw it from Nicole’s point of view. She did make an effort. She included Janet in all family plans. We invited her to every barbecue, all of Sienna’s birthday parties… But Janet was always quick with a sarcastic comment, and I think it really hurt Nicole. But no matter what, she never lost her temper with her sister. I think she’d come to accept that was who Janet was.”

  “It’s almost like she can’t help it, as though it’s out of her control.”

  “Yes,” Steve mused. “It’s like they fit into those roles when they were children and never managed to break free.”

  That was true. Janet was always second best. She’d never been as pretty or as clever as Nicole. And that ate into her when we were still children. Nicole’s death must have turned Janet’s mind topsy-turvy. Now she no longer had anyone to compete with or put down in order to make herself feel better.

  We were quiet for a few moments, enjoying soaking up the sun before we had to go inside and deal with the mess the intruder had left behind.

  Sienna would soon be back after waving Janet and Marilyn off, and I needed to ask my next question while Steve and I were alone.

  “Do you think it was Toby who broke in?”

  Steve didn’t answer straight away. He sat up and turned, placing his feet on the floor. “I don’t know. But it does seem likely.”

  “What’s going on with him?”

  Steve groaned. “I don’t really want to talk about it, Abbie. It’s nothing personal, just business.”

  I tried to pretend that Steve’s words hadn’t stung. Maybe it was just business, but I couldn’t help feeling personally involved. I made the decision there and then to tell Lizzie about my suspicions.

  If Toby Walsh was responsible for the break-in, the police needed to know.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  An hour after Marilyn and Janet left, Lizzie came out into the garden to tell us we could go back inside. The police had finished examining every nook and cranny for evidence, and now we had the unenviable task of clearing up. Steve focused on his office, while Sienna, Lizzie and I tried to clean up the sitting room.

  The television was damaged beyond repair. The screen wasn’t cracked or smashed but it wouldn’t turn on. But surprisingly, nothing else was broken.

  Steve brought down an old television from one of the rooms upstairs. Although it was smaller and slightly thicker than the old one, it worked perfectly. When he carried the old television into the garage, I suggested Sienna make some tea.

  While Steve and Sienna were out of earshot I took the opportunity to tell Lizzie I suspected Toby Walsh had been the one who’d broken in. She listened carefully and made me feel like she was taking me seriously then promised to look into it.

  Once we’d finished, it was impossible to tell anything had occurred in the sitting room. Notebooks, pens and odds and ends were back in the drawers of the cabinets. Everything was back in its rightful place.

  Now I was feeling a little calmer, I worried about Janet. She could be an impossible, irritating, sarcastic cow at times, but I knew she was only doing it because she was so unhappy.

  The only thing I could do to repair the rift between us was speak to her to clear the air. That’s what Nicole would want me to do. No matter how mean Janet was to us when we were young, Nicole always forgave her sister.

 
I knew Sienna would be fine because Steve and Lizzie were staying at Yew Tree House. On my way out, I stuck my head into Steve’s study. He was shuffling papers together on his desk.

  “I’m heading over to see Janet,” I said. “I don’t want to leave things as they are between us.”

  Steve raised his eyebrows. “You’re brave.”

  “Not really,” I admitted. “I’m dreading it, but I’ll apologise if that’s what it takes to make her feel better.”

  Steve shrugged and I got the sense he didn’t think treating Janet with kid gloves was the way to go. I wondered if he and Nicole had argued over the matter in the past, but it wasn’t my place to ask.

  It took just over fifteen minutes for me to park in Rose Street car park in Wokingham, and a couple of minutes after that, I was ringing the buzzer at Janet’s flat.

  I imagined Janet rolling her eyes when I spoke into the intercom, but she did buzz me in.

  As I walked up the stairs, I mentally prepared what I was going to say. I would apologise for not keeping Janet in the loop as much as I should have done, and then I would try to reassure her I wasn’t attempting to come between Sienna and her family. Would it work? Unlikely. Janet and I would never be best friends, but I owed it to Nicole to try and smooth things over.

  Janet opened the door to her flat before I had a chance to knock. “Yes.”

  She kept one hand on the door, and positioned her body to block the doorway. She wasn’t even going to invite me in. This had been a waste of time.

  “I’ve come to apologise, Janet. Can I come in?”

  She stared at me for a few seconds before stepping aside. “Go on then, but make it quick. I’m busy.”

  We walked into her open plan living area, and I sat down on the sofa without being invited. If I waited for an invitation, I’d be here all day.

  “I’m sorry for not involving you with things. I should have called you when I first spoke to Eric Ross. You’re Sienna’s aunt, and you’re right, you should have an important role in her life.”

  Janet, who had remained standing, crossed her arms over her chest and stared at me. She had a talent for getting under my skin and making me feel uncomfortable.

  I swallowed nervously and then continued, “I don’t want to come between you and Sienna. Sienna should have a good relationship with her family. I want her to be happy.”

  Janet surprised me by not responding to what I’d said. Instead, she offered me coffee.

  “Oh, yes. Thanks. Coffee would be lovely.” I stammered and blinked in surprise.

  Janet moved into the small kitchen area to fix the coffee, and I put my handbag on the floor beside me and stood up.

  “Could I use your bathroom?”

  “Yes,” Janet said, flicking a switch on the coffeemaker. “But you’ll have to use the en suite. The toilet in the main bathroom isn’t working. The flush is broken.”

  “Right. Thanks.”

  I walked along the hall and opened the bedroom door. It felt strange to be in Janet’s bedroom. It smelled faintly of Chanel No5, and there was an ashtray on her dressing table, which didn’t smell as pleasant as the perfume.

  My fingers grasped the handle on the en suite bathroom door, but I paused. In the middle of Janet’s double bed was a box of photographs. Intrigued, I walked over to the bed to take a look.

  It was filled with photographs of Janet and Nicole as children. Most were still in the box, but some were scattered on the duvet. There was one that had been taken at the Tower of London as the two girls stood beside a Beefeater. Another, was of Nicole standing beside a large raven. She looked nervous and was watching the bird warily.

  I reached for another photograph, this one showed Nicole blowing out candles on a birthday cake. Janet stood by her side, her face lit up by the candles as she watched her sister enviously. I stared at the picture, feeling uneasy. The expression on Janet’s face was… unnerving.

  I grabbed another and gasped. In this one, Nicole and Janet were in their early teens, standing side-by-side on the deck of a boat, leaning back against the rail. Both girls had permed hair and braces. But the horrifying thing about the photograph was that Nicole’s eyes had been scratched out.

  I heard footsteps, and flustered, I dropped the photograph.

  Whirling round, I was just in time to see Janet enter her bedroom. “Are you all right? I wondered what was taking you so long.”

  My mouth opened but no sound came out. My gaze dropped back down to the photographs on the bed.

  Janet walked closer to me and stopped, her face inches from mine. “Been having a nose, have you?”

  “I saw the photographs and…” I looked back down at the photograph of Nicole with her eyes scratched out.

  Janet saw what I was looking at and picked up the photo. “I was angry with her. It was ages ago. Don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

  “It’s not normal.”

  “Of course it’s normal,” Janet snapped. “Sisters are supposed to fight. Don’t look at me like that. Have you any idea how prissy and judgemental you sound?”

  I took a step away from her but conceded she had a point. Family relationships could be complicated. After Nicole had died, everything seemed to take on a more sinister meaning.

  “Well, are you going to use the toilet, or not?”

  I managed to nod and quickly scurried into the en suite bathroom, locking the door behind me.

  I took a deep breath and pressed a hand against my chest, trying to slow my breathing. What was wrong with me? It was only Janet. I didn’t really suspect Janet could have done anything to hurt her sister, did I?

  I took my time in the bathroom, and when I finally emerged, Janet had left the bedroom and the photographs were nowhere to be seen.

  When I entered the sitting room, she handed me my coffee as though there were nothing wrong.

  I perched on the edge of the sofa, wishing I hadn’t come. Now I would never be able to scrub the image of Nicole with her eyes scratched out from my mind.

  “So, what’s wrong with the other toilet?” I asked, wanting to change the subject and not think about that photograph any more.

  “No idea. It just won’t flush. I’ve called a plumber, but he can’t come until the middle of next week.”

  “Do you want me to take a look?”

  Janet frowned. “You? What do you know about plumbing?”

  “I’m no expert, but I’ve had to fix a few issues when we were out in the sticks. We couldn’t call out plumbers, so we had to do things ourselves.”

  She shrugged and put her mug down on the coffee table. “Knock yourself out.”

  She followed me into the main bathroom, her sceptical eyes on me as I lifted the lid off the cistern and set it down on the toilet seat.

  “The floatation ball still raised,” I said. “But the cistern is empty.”

  “And what does that mean?”

  “Usually, when the water level drops in the cistern, after you flush, the floatation ball drops and signals more water is needed to fill the cistern. In this case, the flotation ball isn’t dipping down and sending a signal that more water is needed.”

  “Will that be expensive to fix?”

  “I doubt it.” I took a closer look. “It looks like the valve and connection here is just clogged with limescale. If we clean that, chances are it will be good as new. If not you might have to buy a new floatation valve, but you could fit it yourself.”

  Janet looked horrified at the idea.

  I set about cleaning away the limescale with a cloth and the edge of a screwdriver Janet had managed to find for me. The floatation ball dipped down to the water level when I was finished, and the cistern began to fill with water.

  I smiled. “That should do it, I think.”

  Janet looked grudgingly impressed. “Thank you.”

  After I replaced the cistern lid, Janet tested the flush, and it worked perfectly.

  I washed my hands, and Janet asked, “When did you learn how t
o do that?”

  “On my last placement, with the help of YouTube videos.”

  I followed her out of the bathroom and she said quietly, “I know that photo freaked you out. I’m not going to deny Nicole and I argued and fell out from time to time, but she’s my sister, and I loved her.” Her voice caught at the end of the sentence.

  I welled up but quickly blinked away the tears. The last thing I wanted was Janet spotting a weakness. “I know you did. And I know she loved you.”

  Janet didn’t meet my gaze as she picked up our coffee cups and carried them to the kitchen. “I’d never hurt her.”

  The photograph had scared me. There was something menacing and ominous about scratching someone’s eyes out in a photo, but deep down, could I believe Janet hated her sister enough to kill her?

  I watched Janet as she stood with her back to me at the sink. No, I didn’t believe she shot Nicole. To the best of my knowledge, Janet had never even fired a gun.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  The next morning, I was woken by loud voices. Bleary-eyed, I squinted at my mobile on the nightstand. It was seven thirty a.m.

  I sat up in bed and yawned. Ideally, I’d curl back under the duvet and get another few hours sleep. I’d been restless last night. Every time I closed my eyes I saw the picture with Nicole’s eyes scratched out.

  The loud voices carried again up the stairs. One was Steve’s, his low, rumbling voice seemed to permeate the walls. The other voice was female, and I wasn’t sure whether it was Sienna’s.

  I got up to investigate, dressing quickly and then padding out into the hall. The argument was getting very heated now. Then a door slammed downstairs.

  Should I go downstairs and find out what was going on? Or should I leave them to it?

  It wasn’t really any of my business, but curiosity got the better of me.

  The door to Steve’s study was closed. When I walked into the kitchen, I saw Lizzie sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in front of her, tapping away on her mobile phone. She looked up and her normally open, friendly face looked tense.