The Return of Rachel Stone

by Amy Cross

  “So where exactly does the path run?” she asked.

  “I've got a GPS tracker, actually,” he replied, holding up his spare cellphone. “Believe me, there's no way we're going to put so much as a foot off the proper path. I'm not going to give Herbert Stone the chance to set his lawyers on me.” He tapped at the screen for a moment, before setting off across the edge of the lawn. “Stay close behind me and whatever you do, don't wander off. We've got to be careful with these slippery bastards.”

  Figuring that she had no choice but to follow his advice, Jo began to follow Nick across the lawn, although she kept her gaze fixed firmly on the house. Most of the windows were well-lit, and she was already squinting in an attempt to make out any figures inside, but so far the place seemed more or less empty. She knew full well that Herbert and Diana Stone would be inside somewhere, along with Herbert's sister Margaret and the girl who claimed to be Rachel. She wasn't entirely sure what she might learn from simply spotting one of them from such a distance, but she also knew that she wouldn't gain much from just sitting in a booth at the pub and going over more websites.

  “There!” Nick said suddenly, stopping and pointing at one of the windows, where a figure had just stepped into view. “That must be Herbert Stone!”

  Squinting again, Jo was just about able to make out a man who seemed to be in his late fifties. He was pouring a drink from a crystal decanter, and he seemed a little unsteady, as if this wasn't the first drink he'd had during the evening.

  “So that's what the old bugger looks like these days,” Nick muttered, raising his cellphone and zooming in before taking a couple of photos. “Don't worry, the photo part is a legal gray area,” he explained. “I can't pass up a chance to see the bugger's face, though. Do you know how long it's been since Herbert Stone was seen out in public? The man became a bloody recluse after his daughter went missing.”

  “I'm not surprised,” Jo replied, still watching the man at the window. “The Stones were hounded by the media.”

  “It was a legitimate public interest story.”

  “You mean the public were interested.”

  “Same thing.”

  “Not really,” Jo said with a sigh, as Nick took more photos. After a moment, she reached over and lowered his phone. “Don't you think you've got enough?”

  “No-one's seen Diana Stone for a while, either,” he replied, checking the photos to make sure they were clear. “The pair of them just went to ground. I mean, fine, some of my colleagues might have been a little intense back in the day, but that's just par for the course, isn't it? From what I've been able to determine, Herbert and Diana haven't even left the grounds of their house in more than a decade. Can you imagine just rattling around in the same old rooms for ten years?”

  “It does seem a little extreme.”

  “Maybe they've got something to hide. It's not exactly the behavior of an innocent couple, is it?”

  “You're not another one who thinks they killed Rachel, are you?”

  “Imagine it, though. You accidentally kill your kid, and you manage to cover it up. And then one day a girl shows up claiming to be her. You can't dig the bones up and prove that she's not, 'cause then you'd be getting yourself into a shed-load of trouble. So what do you do? You freeze, that's what. All your well-laid plans have gone up in smoke, and you freeze until you can figure something else out. Meanwhile, I reckon this girl, whoever she is, somehow knows the truth. Maybe she's planning to blackmail them.”

  “She seems to be taking a very elaborate approach,” Jo pointed out.

  “Yeah, well, people are strange sometimes, aren't they? Did I mention that I can't find hide or hair of the other brother, Jack Stone? He seems to have gone far away and vanished. Come on, let's check out the other side.”

  “Can we do that and stick to the footpath?” she asked.

  “Sod that,” he replied. “Now I'm this close, I need better photos. Anyway, don't worry, there's no way those dozy bastards inside are ever gonna spot me. I'll be careful.”

  She opened her mouth to ask what had happened to his earlier caution, but it was already too late. Nick sprinted off across the lawn, hurrying through the shadows on his way to the house, leaving her standing all alone. Sighing, she figured that the lure of some exclusive photos had been too much for him, and that he'd been tempted into breaking the rules he'd so carefully explained just a few minutes earlier. She felt tempted to go after him, but although she took a half-step forward, she finally decided she should probably just wait. If he managed to get some useful photos, she'd be able to see them anyway.

  And then she heard the sound of a baby crying.

  Turning, she looked toward the farthest, darkest end of the huge garden and listened to the very clear, very distinct sound. At first she tried to tell herself that she was mistaken, that the sound was actually something else, but deep down she already knew there was no mistake at all. A baby was crying somewhere in the grounds of the house, and she instinctively began to make her way across the lawn until she reached the shadow of the trees.

  The cry continued, filling the cold air, and she felt certain that anyone in the house would be able to hear such a loud, haunting noise.

  She looked around, making sure that no-one was nearby, before staring to pick her way through the pitch-black forest, taking care not to stumble. The child's cries seemed to be all around her, echoing in the air, although she gradually began to pick out a path that seemed to lead closer to the source. There was no sign of anyone moving around nearby, no rustling footsteps, and she was starting to wonder whether some prankster might have set up a recording and was using it either to torment people passing on the other side of the wall, or to torture the Stone family. As unlikely as that idea seemed, it was more believable than the suggestion that a ghost was at work.

  After a few more steps, however, she stopped and looked around again, as she realized she had to be almost on top of the sound's source.

  “Hello?” she called out cautiously. “Is anyone here?”

  She half-expected the sound to stop, but instead the cries simply continued.

  Taking out her phone, she switched on a flashlight app and then held it up again. All she saw were trees all around, and the child's cries seemed to be coming out of thin air. Finally, just as she was on the verge of giving up, she realized the sound seemed to be coalescing just a few meters away, and she stepped closer before crouching down and aiming the light at a spot at the base of one of the larger trees.

  Exposed roots had begun to twist up from the ground, forming a kind of nook that she quickly realized would be just about the perfect size and shape to hold a baby.

  Reaching out, she waved her left hand through the empty space, before touching the tree's bark and finding that it felt very cold, and a little damp too.

  And the baby's cry was coming from the heart of the nook.

  She leaned closer and -

  “Bloody hell,” Nick said suddenly, sounding particularly breathless as he bumped into her from behind, “I thought for a moment you were taking a wee.”

  “Quiet!” she hissed.

  They waited, but now the child's cries had faded away.

  “Did you hear it?” she asked, getting to her feet and turning to him. “You must have heard the crying sound.”

  “All I heard was my own out-of-shape gasps as I came through here to find you,” he replied, before holding his phone up. “Now, I'm not gonna say that I struck gold, but I'm pretty sure you're gonna want to see what I managed to spot through one of the windows back there.”

  ***

  “I'm sure all these pictures of Herbert and Diana Stone are very appealing to newspapers,” Jo said with a sigh as she swung her car door shut, having parked outside the pub, “but they don't really help us very much.”

  “There have been rumors that Diana Stone lost her mind,” he replied eagerly, hurrying after her as she headed toward the pub's side door. “From what I saw tonight, she seems pretty
sane. I mean, sure, she clearly likes a few drinks, and she's not exactly a master when it comes to the piano, but apart from that she looked pretty normal. As for old Herb, he was stumbling around like a complete tool. The man was wasted.”

  “But you didn't see Rachel. Or the girl who claims to be Rachel.”

  “Maybe she was in her room.”

  “None of which helps us very much,” she replied, unlocking the door and then turning to him. “Maybe I was right earlier. Maybe this isn't a case where I'm just hitting my head against a brick wall.”

  “You're giving up?”

  “I need to reconsider my options.”

  “Wuss,” he muttered, stepping inside. “Then again, I guess I can understand your reluctance. I mean, you're actually trying to help these people, whereas I've written them off as a bunch of weirdos. I'm more interested in the public interest side of this case.”

  She sighed.

  “Which I know you don't agree is public interest,” he added. “Listen, I think maybe I'm done with this stuff for the night, but I'm not quite ready to hit the sack. How about getting a beer with me, and we can shoot the breeze for a while? Get to know each other, figure out what else we've got in common, stuff like that. Who knows? It might even be the start of a beautiful friendship!”

  “I...”

  She paused, before shaking her head.

  “Another time.”

  “I'll even buy your first drink,” he continued. “Believe me, that's not something I do every day. Ask anyone who knows me, they'll all tell you that I'm tight as a duck's arse.”

  “Another time,” she said again.

  “Sure about that?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, the offer stands,” he replied, turning and heading away from the door, making his way toward the bar area. “You know where to find me if you change your mind. I need a few pints to get my mind off this craziness.”

  Once he was gone, Jo leaned back against the cold wall and looked out across the parking lot. The town wasn't exactly heaving, and for a moment she simply stared into the pitch-black night, thinking back to the sound of the crying baby. She still didn't believe in ghosts, but at the same time she was starting to run out of alternative explanations for what she'd heard, and deep down she was starting to think that she'd never be able to get to the truth, not while the Stone family mansion remained so firmly off-limits. Usually she could figure out a way to move a case forward, but this time she felt boxed-in and totally stumped.

  “Jo Mason?”

  Startled, she turned and saw a figure stepping closer.

  “I need to talk to you,” the figure continued, finally emerging from the shadows to reveal the face of a girl in her teens. “I think you might want to talk to me too.” She paused, before holding out a hand for Jo to shake. “My name is Rachel Stone.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  15 years ago

  “Rachel!” Diana shouted as she raced along the dark corridor. “Everybody wake up! Rachel's gone missing!”

  Banging on every door she passed, she quickly reached the stairs and began to hurry down. When she was just halfway, however, she lost her footing and slipped. Rather than falling down to the hallway, she managed to grab the railing and slither on her knees, although she let out a gasp of pain as she landed hard and scrambled immediately to her feet.

  “Rachel!” she screamed, cupping her hands around her mouth as she turned to look at each of the downstairs doors in turn. Above, footsteps could already be heard hurrying out of the other bedrooms. “Rachel, where are you?”

  “What the bloody hell is going on down there?” Herbert asked, still tying his dressing gown as he appeared at the top of the stairs. “Diana, have you lost your mind?”

  “She's gone!” she stammered, rushing to the front door and fumbling with the lock for a moment before pulling it wide open. Late night wind blasted against her as she stumbled out onto the steps and cupped her hands again. “Rachel, where are you? Rachel!”

  “What's going on?” Margaret asked sleepily as she stepped up behind her brother.

  “Go and check on the child!” Herbert snapped at her, before hurrying down the stairs and heading toward the front door. Outside, his wife was still shouting Rachel's name. “Do you have any idea what time it is, woman?” he continued. “You've woken the whole bloody house up!”

  “Rachel's not in her crib,” Diana replied, stumbling down the stone steps and onto the grass. “I woke up and she was there, and then I went back to sleep. Then I woke up again just now and she was gone.”

  “Impossible.”

  “I'm telling you!” she screamed, turning back to him. “She's gone!”

  Without waiting for him to say another word, she raced out across the lawn, desperately searching for some sign of movement. Stumbling several times, she turned and looked back toward the house, but still she saw no-one. At the same time, her sense of panic was growing and finally she cupped her hands around her mouth once more and screamed louder than she'd ever screamed in her life.

  “Rachel!”

  ***

  “We have units out looking right now,” the officer told Herbert as they stood in the doorway, “and we're establishing roadblocks on all the main routes heading away from Landsley. Whoever took your daughter, there's still time to stop them.”

  “Let me guess,” Herbert sneered, “that's the same meaningless speech you give to everyone who just had their only child snatched from their house in the middle of the night!”

  “We're doing everything in our power to find your daughter,” the officer replied. “Sir, I assure you, the first twelve hours after an abduction are the best time for making progress.”

  “I'll remind you that you said that,” Herbert muttered, “when twenty-four have passed and your so-called progress has ground to a halt..”

  “There are signs of forced entry at the rear door,” another officer said as he hurried through. “It looks like someone took a knife to the door that leads into the study.”

  “Impossible!” Herbert snapped. “I paid a fortune to have this house secured!”

  “Someone managed to get the door open,” the second officer continued, “and then they disabled the alarm. They shut the door again after they left, but there are scratch-marks all around the lock. We also found prints in the garden, indicating that the kidnapper was alone and that he headed south once he left the house. Beyond that, we're checking for prints in all the rooms in the house.” He held up a doll. “We also found this on the lawn. Did it belong to your daughter, Mr. Stone?”

  Herbert stared at the doll for a moment, before nodding.

  “Have you received any threats in recent weeks or months?” the first officer asked Herbert. “Have you perhaps noticed anyone watching the house?”

  “Absolutely not,” he replied. “What are you talking about?”

  “With all due respect, Mr. Stone, you're quite well known in this part of the country. People know that you have a high net worth and -”

  “My wife is sick!” he hissed. “She suffered serious complications following the birth of our daughter. She had to see a psychiatrist, and she's never quite recovered. I feel awful for even suggesting this, but I believe you should give some serious attention to the possibility that she might have something to do with my daughter's disappearance.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I went to bed at around ten o'clock last night,” he continued, “and my sister retired about ninety minutes later. My wife was up and about several times after midnight, and I don't have a clue what she was doing. I know a man shouldn't say this about his own wife, but Diana has some very serious problems and I feel...” He paused, as if he couldn't quite get the words out. “She tries to be a good mother, but she might have put our daughter into a very dangerous situation. Please, can you discretely question her regarding her whereabouts this evening? If she's done something to Rachel, and if the girl has been harmed in any way, my wife will b
e devastated.”

  “We're still leaning toward -”

  “I am telling you!” he said firmly. “My wife has done something to our child! She hallucinates, she hears things, and she's not in touch with reality! I blame myself for letting her get to this stage, but now the well-being of our child is at stake. You people have to do something, or so help me God I will have every last one of you fired! I know the chief constable!”

  “I'll speak to the lady,” the first officer replied, clearly a little put out by Herbert's attitude, “but right now, I'd rather not narrow our focus. We'll consider all the possibilities, and we'll do everything in our power to find your daughter. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go and speak to some of the other officers and make a phone call to Chief Inspector Daley.”

  “Incompetent fools,” Herbert muttered, not bothering to lower his voice at all as the officers headed to the front door. “My wife is responsible for this mess. Somebody needs to make her tell the truth before her actions lead to a tragedy!”

  ***

  Several hours later, having finally managed to leave the house for a short period, Herbert pulled his car up outside a cabin in the forest. Stepping out of the car, he looked around to make absolutely certain that nobody was watching, and then he headed over to the cabin and pushed the door open.

  “About bloody time,” Mac said, getting to his feet.

  “Is she alright?” Herbert asked, looking down at Rachel as she wriggled in the makeshift crib that had been created inside an old cardboard box.

  “Doesn't cry much, does she?” Mac replied. “Do you reckon this'll all be over by Thursday? Only, I told the wife I'd be back home by Thursday, so that'd be good. We'll have the little lass back home by then, won't we?”

  Chapter Fifteen