by Diane Saxon
She took a step back out of the brilliant swathe of sunlight and heat pushing through the panes of glass. Her gaze bounced over the trio of photographs on the wall. Professional, clear. A beautiful young woman, Imelda, her lips curved in a wide smile as the toddler in her arms above the defined bump of baby tummy, stared directly at the camera with laughter filled eyes.
The second picture was of the three of them. Taken at the same time as Imelda and Joshua were dressed in the same outfits.
The third photograph, in between the other two, was of Joshua on his own, a broad baby grin on his face, a glisten of baby dribble on his bottom lip. Jenna stroked the frame with one finger and then lifted the frame from the wall. She slipped the picture out and placed the empty frame on the top of the small cupboard.
She assumed it was very recent.
She cast one last glimpse around the room before she slipped back into the chaos of the hallway.
The cacophony of urgent voices merged into one, but she blocked them out as she glanced at the closed kitchen door to check Zak hadn’t emerged and then over to PC Walker, who gave a slow shake of his head to indicate that he’d kept an eye out and Zak was still inside the kitchen.
PC Walker squinted at her, his dark brows dipping with curiosity as he squeezed past the medics, a large-framed man tiptoeing through the seething mass of debris chucked on the floor as sterilised wrappers were ripped off equipment in the continued frenzy. He sidled up next to her. ‘They’ll be a while. They need to induce a coma so they can transport her to the QE or possibly Southmead.’ His mouth pulled tight as he shook his head. ‘It doesn’t look hopeful, Sarg. There’s huge blood loss.’
Even now, after seeing the gash on her face, Jenna acknowledged it could be anything from a simple slip on the floor whilst she was holding something in her hand, which hit her in the face as she went down. An item that had subsequently been kicked to one side in the effort to save the woman’s life. Or it may be attempted murder, with a weapon wallowing around under the medics’ boots.
The possibility they may not save her crossed her mind.
But Imelda Cheetham-Epstein was in very capable hands and if time was a factor, they physically could not have been quicker. A Sunday morning with the Air Ambulance crew immediately available. From all appearances, she’d hazard a guess they were about to move her as they slipped the stretcher underneath her slight body, the sounds of cooperation and teamwork controlled now they appeared to have stabilised her. All the elements gathered together to save this life.
That was for the medical crew to deal with.
Jenna concentrated on her part of the job. Finding a possible missing child. No panic yet, but as the minutes ticked by, she was aware of the need for speed and action. He wasn’t upstairs, he wasn’t in the living room and he certainly wasn’t in the long, narrow hallway.
As she raised her head to peer beyond the paramedics, Donna and Natalie stepped out of the room they’d been sent to search, shaking their heads as they joined Mason. The grim set of his mouth plummeted any hope she may have had.
Before she turned to make her way to the kitchen to speak with Zak, she needed to deploy her two uniforms to search further afield.
Without a word, she handed the photograph to Mason. There was no need to say anything.
Her heart told her there would be no success.
What the hell had happened to Joshua Cheetham-Epstein? Where could he be?
10
Sunday 11 July, 12:10 hrs
Emily glanced across at the child she’d strapped into the front passenger seat of her little white Honda Jazz as she kept driving. Driving until the rhythmic motion of the journey rocked the toddler to sleep. Slumped forward with its cheek resting on its chubby little knees with nothing but a light breath blowing through lips soft with sleep.
‘Well, fuck it. You’ve gone and done it now, Emily. How the hell do you get out of this?’
She pulled the car into a driveway and stared at the neat, new house with dove-grey venetian blinds still closed against the midday sun. She raised her hair from her neck and swiped away the sweat. At least it would be cool inside.
She sat back, popped her strap off but left the engine running so the air con continued to cool the interior of the small car while she tapped her fingers against the steering wheel.
It didn’t really matter how cool the car was, sweat still beaded across her top lip and popped out on the back of her neck again. Panic more than heat had brought that on. She swiped it away with fingers that shook and made a half-turn to stare at the child, her heart squeezing in her chest as she rubbed her hands on her jeans.
Her stiffened lips barely moved. ‘What am I going to do with you?’
She turned her gaze from the toddler and stared straight ahead through the windscreen at the house again.
Disapproval was all she’d be met with, but what choice did she have? She needed help. She closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands while she rested her elbows on the steering wheel. ‘Fuck.’
She had no choice.
It wasn’t your fault. With a slow move, she raised her head and spread her fingers wide to stare into the small mirror on the back of the sun visor she’d pulled down as she was driving.
The voice soothed. How were you to know the little woman would turn all aggressive and attack you? You only defended yourself.
She dropped her hands back down to grip the steering wheel.
You’re not to blame.
‘Who would believe that?’
No one. The sly voice gave a dig. No one has ever believed you. Better to keep it to yourself. Better not tell anyone.
Emily’s stomach gave a rolling lurch as she glanced down at the centre console. ‘Oh, God.’
Her fingers trembled as she reached out to pick up the two bunches of keys. One set smeared with Imelda’s blood. The other she’d swiped from Zak’s hallway table as she snatched up the child. She had no idea why, except maybe if she needed to return the toddler. Take him back to Zak. There had been no coherent reason at the time, except the sheer panic that she’d be discovered and the sound of footsteps making their way down from the stairs above.
She folded the two sets of keys into her hand, so they didn’t rattle and wake the sleeping toddler.
Horror shot through in sharp waves while she stared at the dried blood across the back of her knuckles. The stray hair that definitely didn’t belong to her.
She deserved it. You know she did. The dark insistence couldn’t quite convince her as her stomach spasmed and threatened to spill its contents over her lap. She hadn’t meant to.
She opened her fingers and allowed the keys to spill back from where she’d taken them. The sharp rattle of them made the youngster jerk in little spasms, although it continued to sleep.
Emily stabbed at the engine’s off button, flipped open the door and stepped out to escape the condemnation of her own mind, which hunted her down in ruthless fashion.
Heat struck her as she gave the car door a soft nudge to keep the cool inside for the toddler while she decided what to do.
She glanced up and down the small cul-de-sac. Not one of the neighbours would take any notice of her, distracted by their own busy lives. Most of them would be in their back gardens with kids screaming in annoyance. Heat escalating bad tempers.
Emily circled around to conduct a quick reconnaissance.
Three doors down, his back to her, a man leaned in and stretched his arm across the roof of his car to swipe a soapy yellow sponge from front to back.
No one else visible, she dashed around the bonnet of the car and opened the passenger door. She scooped the two sets of keys from where she’d dropped them back into the console, rifled through the bloodied set until she found the front door key. She held it at the ready between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand before she ducked back into the car.
She peered through the car windows for a final check, unclipped the seat belt and scooped the s
leeping child out, holding it close so only a muffled whimper sounded as she backed out of the car.
With the heel of her hand, she pushed the door closed and dashed to the house, past the neat rows of ornamental trees lining the short pathway to the door. She stabbed the key in the lock and barged her way in, her breath coming in panicked hitches.
Leaning her shoulder on the door, she blew out a breath.
‘Did anyone see?’ She rubbed her chin over the top of the child’s head, the soft curls giving some comfort. ‘No one saw.’
In the silent house, she pushed away from the door and headed for the stairs.
11
Sunday 11 July, 12:25 hrs
Zak spun around from where he looked out of the window, a dark flush stole over his face as he stared at Jenna across the wide expanse of the kitchen, his forehead wrinkled over dark brows, the beginning of panic edging in.
He held his hands wide. ‘Where is he? Where’s Joshua?’
With Mason behind her, Jenna stepped into the room and gave a long, calm study of the man in front of her to determine what part he may have played in the assault on his wife and disappearance of his son.
From his red-rimmed eyes and fresh smudge of tears down his cheeks, she could easily assume Zak was desperate for his wife and child to be fine.
Assumption would be exactly that.
There was many a felon turned out to be a great actor. Even more who were genuinely upset about what they had committed. It didn’t mean to say they hadn’t executed the crime. Just that they were devastated. Not necessarily for what they had done, but that they had been caught.
‘Zak, I need you to be calm.’
Zak faltered, his shoulders jerked upright. ‘What’s happened? Where is Joshua?’
Jenna shook her head. The imparting of bad news could be done several ways. She regarded quick and straightforward the best in this case. ‘Zak, Joshua wasn’t where you told me he would be.’
Zak’s lips moved silently, tears flooded his eyes as a look of disbelief streaked over his face.
She understood the fear, the devastation. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Sorry?’ His gaze shot up to hers. Not so upset she didn’t catch his quick whip of anger. ‘Where is Joshua? I want my son.’ He puffed out a breath and then surged across the room towards her and she held out a hand in a stop motion.
‘Zak, wait!’
He came to a standstill three paces in front of her, his eyes narrowed accusingly. ‘You’ve been gone ages. We could have been looking for him.’
She felt, rather than saw, Mason step closer to her left side, his power a steady vibration of reassurance.
She gave a nod, slow, to keep an aura of calm. ‘We have been looking for Joshua, Zak. We’ve conducted a thorough search of the house.’ She half turned, enough to draw Mason into the conversation. ‘This is DC Mason Ellis, and I have two further PCs here.’
Zak snorted, he drew back his lips to snarl at her. ‘Four of you? What good is that?’
Jenna raised her eyebrows and saw the acknowledgement in his face that he’d overstepped the mark. Worried he may be, but it was no excuse to become aggressive. A big man, Zak could cause plenty of damage, if he was so inclined. She needed to keep him calm, onside, and proactive. Her priority was not him, but his son. ‘Backup are on their way and will be here any minute, but as we weren’t aware Joshua was missing until not long ago, there was no reason for further resources.’ Before he could open his mouth with a retort, she cut him off, ‘There is now, and they are in place, including the search and rescue dog which is en-route.’
Jenna reached out and took his elbow. She led him to one of the two long-legged bar stools tucked under the bench running the length of the left side of the kitchen.
‘Zak, I need you to sit down.’ She reached out with her left hand and drew a stool towards her, all the time keeping a gentle, restraining hand on his arm. ‘Listen to me.’ As he sat, his eyes came on a level with hers and she closed in. ‘Zak, we need you to stay strong. Imelda needs you, Joshua needs you.’ She removed her hand from his arm and slipped onto the other stool as she kept her gaze fixed on him. Instead of leaning back against the semi-circular back rest of the stool, Jenna leaned in towards Zak. ‘I have two of my best officers looking for Joshua right now, with more on their way. We’ve scoured the house,’ she indicated Mason who stood quiet in front of the door, his arms crossed over his chest. ’Every spot we could find that might be feasible, but if you know of any hiding places Joshua would use, tell me now.’
She knew it was a slim-to-no chance, but waited as he took a deep breath in and then shook his head.
‘No. No. He didn’t hide. Maybe he was too young for that, but I can’t ever remember Joshua trying to hide.’ He rocked back on the stool and made it creak. ‘Why won’t you let me look? I’m more likely to find him.’ His voice had lost all aggression and turned instead to a plea.
‘Zak, we’re doing all we can at the moment. My officers have made a start in the side garden. Think of the house as a bullseye.’ She touched her fingers together to form a circle. ‘We’ll work our way from inside to out in expanding circles until we find him.’ She hoped. She leaned back on the stool and tilted her head to one side as her gaze locked with his and the anger seeped out of him. He slumped forward, and Jenna reached over to touch her fingers to the back of his hand. ‘I can’t allow you to join in the search, Zak. For one, any forensic evidence which has not already been destroyed while the medics were seeing to Imelda could be damaged by further movement out there.’ She jerked her head in the direction of the hallway where, from the sound and movement as she’d entered the kitchen, they were in the midst of tending to Imelda.
Jenna squeezed her fingers on the back of his hand to gain his attention as it drifted to the hall. ‘I need you to walk me through everything. Could you start from the beginning? We need to be clear. We need to understand.’
He jiggled broad shoulders. ‘It was nothing. Nothing unusual for our Sunday morning.’ He withdrew his hand from hers and twisted sideways on his stool to make it creak again. He squeezed his eyes closed and dug his fingertips deep into the skin of his creased forehead. ‘Imelda was up early with Joshua. About 5:30 a.m. She took him downstairs to let me get some more sleep.’ He looked up and gave her a sheepish shrug. ‘Work’s been crazy lately and what with the baby on the way…’ His breath caught in his throat in a painful sob and he pressed his knuckles against his lips. ‘What about the baby? Will the baby be okay?’
Jenna drew in a breath. How much could she tell him? At this stage, he needed the reassurance possibly without the intricate details. That wasn’t her job to do. ‘The paramedics told me the baby is absolutely fine at this stage. They’ve monitored it and found the heartbeat steady and oxygen levels stable. That’s all I can tell you at the moment. As soon as they get Imelda to hospital, we’ll get an update.’
He bowed his head, his shoulders slumped.
Jenna waited, patience always the best route. This was a man who, in the course of an hour, could very well have lost his wife, toddler and baby. Or murdered all three.
When he was ready, he blew out a breath. ‘With the baby on the way, we wanted to get upstairs finished, but I’ve been working non-stop.’ He stroked his fingers over his cheeks making the short, black stubble rasp with each move. ‘I woke at around 8 a.m. Slipped upstairs and started sanding the door down. It’s noisy and messy.’ He opened his arms to indicate the dust sticking to his clothes.
‘Did Imelda come upstairs?’
He nodded. ‘Yeah. I reckon it was just after 10 a.m. I remember the news had been on the radio.’ He ran his tongue over his teeth and then shrugged. ‘Maybe a little later. I don’t know. She had Joshua on her hip, and I was using the sander.’
‘What did she say? Did anything annoy you?’
‘No. I don’t have much of a temper.’ She’d heard it said before on many an occasion and had already witnessed Zak’s quick whip of
anger, which had soon dissipated. ‘Not really. You know, sometimes we have a bit of a squabble. If I’m overtired or she’s…’ he shot Jenna an awkward glance, ‘… hormonal. But not today. We’re not really arguers. We like a peaceful life.’ He sniffed. ‘We both have baggage, relationships in the past that were toxic. Too volatile.’
Interesting, but not necessarily relevant at this stage. It was worth following along the winding path at a later stage.
‘Anyway, we’re a good match. We like things nice and easy.’
Jenna pictured the scene upstairs and couldn’t think of anything less easy than destroying your own house, pulling it apart and starting again from scratch. She’d far rather buy a brand-new house, carpet, curtain and furnish it and move in. It suited her. It suited her sister. No maintenance, low upkeep.
Each to their own, she supposed.
Zak swivelled the stool around and placed his hands palm down on the counter as though he was about to push up from his seat. ‘My stomach was rumbling so loud, I told her I could hear it over the sound of the sander. We laughed.’ He dropped his head, bringing his hands up to cup his face. His voice came out muffled from behind his spread fingers. ‘We laughed.’ When he raised his head, his eyes were tortured. ‘She said she’d take Joshua down for a quick nap and then make brunch. I told her I just needed to finish off with the sander and I’d be down. I promised I’d follow. Fifteen minutes, she said. Fifteen minutes and I’ll have a full English ready for you. Keep up your strength.’ He paused, took a long haul of air in through his nose and then huffed it out from his mouth as he turned his head to look at the counter on the other side of the kitchen as though he’d noticed for the first time the packs of sausages, bacon, a half-used loaf of bread and an empty tin of baked beans beside a small pan.