by Amy Cross
Today
“I've offered to take tests,” Rachel said as she stood in Jo's room above the pub. “DNA tests, lie-detector tests, everything I can think of. So far, they've refused.”
“What reason did they give?” Jo asked.
“They said they don't need test results to know who I am. They say they can feel it in their hearts.” She paused for a moment. “I know, right? It's all very touching. I should be honored.”
“Let's start this from the beginning.” Jo carried a mug of tea over and set it on the table. “Rachel Stone has been missing for fifteen years. She was a baby when she vanished, she was just a few weeks old, and now she'd be fifteen.”
“I am fifteen.”
“She can't have disappeared and raised herself,” Jo pointed out. “She'd have had to have been raised by someone.”
“You keep referring to Rachel as if she's not in this room. Does that mean you don't believe I am who I say I am?”
“It means I'm keeping an open mind.”
“You think I'm lying.”
“Why don't you start by telling me where you've been?”
Rachel hesitated, before picking up the mug and taking a sip. At the same time she kept her eyes fixed on Jo, as if she was studying her in some way. “They don't know I'm out,” she said finally. “Mum and Dad, I mean. They think I'm safely tucked away in my room on the top floor of their fancy mansion.”
“Aren't you worried they'll go up and find you're missing?”
“They won't. They never come up, they always wait downstairs for me to go to them. Funny, huh? Besides, I've left a note on the desk next to my bed, explaining that I'll be back in a few hours' time. I go out every night, and they never notice. Or if they notice, they never say anything. Sometimes, I think they're a little scared of me.”
“Where do you go on these nocturnal adventures?”
“I like it here,” she replied, clearly taking care to step around the question. “In this town, I mean. This part of the world. I hated London. It wasn't fun living on the streets, taking shelter under bridges and mixing with... Well, let's just say there were a lot of undesirable people around. People who saw a young girl and thought they could take advantage.”
“And did they take advantage?”
She shook her head. “I learned to look after myself from an early age.”
“How long did you spend living on the streets?”
“Long enough.”
“You don't like being specific with your answers, do you?”
“Not really.”
Jo hesitated, before realizing that she might need to try a different approach. “Were you alone?”
“On the streets of London?” Rachel's smile grew. “Hardly. There are lots of people living rough.”
“Did you have friends? Anyone who might be able to vouch for you?”
Now Rachel laughed. “You really don't believe me, do you?”
“It's my job to be -”
“Did you and your friend have fun on my parents' property tonight?” the girl continued. “I saw you, you know. Sneaking through the shadows, trying to get closer to the house. It was kind of comical, especially the way he darted off across the lawn, although I'm pretty sure he was way off the footpath at that point. Your friend's a newspaper guy, isn't he?”
“He's not my friend, but yes, he's from a local paper.”
“He got right up to the windows. It's pretty cheeky, really. Dad's lawyer'd have a field day if I ratted the poor bugger out.” She carried her mug of coffee over to the other side of the room and stopped next to Jo's suitcase. Reaching down, she lifted the lid and looked inside at the various items of clothing. “Everyone has a right to privacy, don't you think? It's a pretty crazy world when people are viewed with suspicion simply because they don't fancy becoming a celebrity.”
She moved a sweater aside and saw several large boxes of pills, each of which bore a label confirming the details of Jo's prescriptions.
“Now what -”
“I'd rather you kept out of my things,” Jo said, hurrying over and closing the lid.
“You don't like it when I walk along your garden path, do you?” Rachel asked with a smile.
“So you saw us,” Jo continued, unable to hide the fact that she was starting to feel rattled. “Is that why you decided to come down here tonight? So far you don't seem to be in the mood to answer any questions, which leaves me wondering why you bothered. Did you just decide to be enigmatic?”
“I came because I felt sorry for you. You've been poking around for a couple of days now, but you haven't really been able to get anywhere. I guess it was difficult, seeing as how you couldn't get access to me. So I figured I'd show up and let you see the whites of my eyes.”
“You make it sound like you're being hunted.”
“Mum and Dad don't dare ask too many questions,” she explained. “Aunt Margaret keeps her distance. Uncle Jack is said to be off traveling. Frankly, I think I'm overdue a good cross-examination.”
“Are you really Rachel Stone?”
At this, the girl allowed herself another smile.
“Are you?” Jo continued.
“What do you think?” She held her hands out at her sides, as if to present herself more fully. “I'm telling you, I'm the real deal. The original article. The poor little baby who vanished from the family estate and was presumed dead. I'd put my claims to the test with a DNA test if only Mummy and Daddy would agree.”
“Your aunt isn't convinced.”
“My aunt seems to be a smart woman.”
“And you seem to be enjoying this,” Jo continued. “You say you're Rachel, but you go out of your way to sow seeds of doubt.”
“Do I?” Her smile grew. “Silly me. Maybe -”
Suddenly there was a loud knock at the door, almost as if someone was trying to break into the room.
“Jo?” Nick called out after a moment, slurring his words as if he'd had more than just a couple of pints. “Are you awake? Are you decent? I've had some ideas about how we can make contact with Rachel Stone! It involves a drone, but don't worry, I can get one of those in the morning!”
“Well you must here the poor man out,” Rachel said quietly, with a mischievous grin. “He sounds very inventive.”
“We'll talk in the morning!” Jo said, heading over to the door. “You need to go to bed, Nick.”
“Aren't you going to tell him that I'm here?” Rachel asked quietly, following Jo and stopping just a few feet behind her. “What's wrong? Worried he might steal me away from you?”
“I just want to talk,” Nick whined from the other side of the door. “I get lonely sometimes. Can't we be friends? I don't really have friends, not at the paper. Everyone's out to screw everyone else over.”
“We can get breakfast together,” Jo told him. “I'm too tired for anything tonight.”
“Too busy, you mean,” Rachel whispered.
“Come on!” He bumped against the door again. “Just let me in! I'm friendly! I promise I won't bite!”
“Good night, Nick,” Jo replied firmly, hoping to send him on his way. “I'm sure we'll have a lot to talk about in the morning. For now, let's just get some sleep, okay?”
She waited for a reply.
“Okay, Nick?”
She heard him mumble something under his breath, and then he began to stumble along the corridor. A moment later she heard his key in the next door along, and finally she heard him heading into his room, followed by a heavy thud as if he'd half-fallen, half-collapsed onto the bed.
“He seems like a nice guy,” Rachel commented finally, staring at the bare white wall that divided the two rooms. “Still, I'm sure you can understand why I came to you tonight, rather than to him. You've got a little more of a positive reputation. I know you don't exactly try to sell yourself, but I picked up a few mentions of you in the press. Dartingham, Skellin Cottage, things like that.”
She stepped past the wall, heading over toward the window, and it was only no
w that Jo realized she was being circled. Since entering the room, Rachel had slowly made her way around the perimeter, prowling slowly but surely as if she was a predator sizing up some new, unfamiliar type of prey. Even Rachel's steps seemed deliberate and carefully paced, and she made barely any sound at all as she finally completed her circuit of the room and reached the door again.
“You should come to dinner,” she added finally.
“I'm sorry?” Jo replied, instinctively backing away without quite realizing what she was doing.
“You should come to Mummy and Daddy's house for dinner. You already know Aunt Margaret, and I can arrange for that weirdo Bradley to come as well. It might be good to shake things up a little.”
“I'm not sure your parents will appreciate that.”
“They really don't like challenging me at the moment,” Rachel explained. “They'll suggest that it's not a good time, but I'll easily talk them round. How about tomorrow? The food'll be good, and you can even bring that reporter guy as your plus one. I mean, I'd like that, and I know he'd like it.” She reached out and opened the door, before stepping into the corridor. “How does six grab you? There's no need to dress up too much, it'll be quite informal. Even jeans are acceptable at a push.”
“And why exactly do you want me to come?” Jo asked.
“So you can do your job, obviously,” Rachel replied. “So you can do what you're good at. I've heard a lot about you, Miss Mason. I'd really like to see a proper private detective at work. Unless you think I'm some kind of con artist or ghost.”
With that, she pulled the door shut and left Jo standing alone.
Hurrying to the door, Jo pulled it open and stepped out into the corridor, only to find that Rachel had inexplicably disappeared. She made her way to the top of the stairs, but even now there was no sign of the girl, and Jo couldn't help but feel a little freaked out as she wandered back to her room. After making sure that her door was properly secured, she went to the window and looked out, hoping to spot Rachel walking away from the pub.
After several minutes, she gave up and went to take her pills before bed.
Chapter Sixteen
15 years ago
Making their way through the forest, checking every inch of ground, volunteers from the local town continued the search for Rachel. Hundreds had turned out, and they'd been walking for hours now, ever since sunrise.
They would continue to walk for the rest of the day.
Chapter Seventeen
Today
“I don't know what happened to it!” the man outside the pub was saying, as Jo stepped out into the cool late afternoon air. “One minute I had my wallet, and then by the time I got to the checkout it was gone!”
“Someone probably had it away while you were in the supermarket,” his friend replied. “These pickpockets have got light fingers, you know. Harry Barnes lost his wallet yesterday in the nursery. The kids learn how to do it from the internet. If you ask me, they use that virtual reality rubbish.”
Jo turned to ask if there had been a spate of pickpocket incidents recently, but suddenly she felt someone tap her on the shoulder. Turning again, she found Nick standing right behind her, smiling proudly. To her surprise, she saw that he was dressed up in an M&S suit.
“Shall we go to dinner, my dear?” he asked, offering his arm for her to take.
“I'll drive,” she replied, stepping past him and heading toward her car. “And before you ask, yes, Rachel did say I could wear jeans.”
***
“These people are minted!” Nick whispered as he and Jo stepped through the mansion's front door a short while later. “Bloody hell, they've even got a chandelier!”
“My aunt and uncle had a chandelier in their house in Watford,” Jo muttered as she looked up and saw the blazing, brightly-lit crystals hanging high above the entrance hallway, “although I guess I have to admit, this one looks a little larger. And it definitely fits in better with its surroundings.”
Hearing footsteps hurrying toward them across the marble floor, she turned just in time to see Margaret Stone emerging from one of the nearby rooms with Bradley Botham in tow. They both looked a little flustered, and Jo was surprised to see that they seemed dressed up for a proper, fancy dinner party. She was starting to wish that perhaps she'd made more of an effort.
“This is utterly impossible,” Margaret muttered as she reached them. “Miss Mason, whatever possessed you to accept that girl's invitation?”
“Steady on,” Bradley said, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“Don't tell me to calm down!” she hissed, glaring at Jo. “This whole mess has really put the cat among the pigeons. Herbert and Diana are livid, but they don't dare cross the girl, so they've gone to a great deal of trouble to put on a show of unity. You have no idea how stressful things have been today!”
“I'm sorry,” Jo replied, taken aback by the vehemence of Margaret's protest, “but I think sometimes the direct approach is the best. You wanted me to get to the bottom of all this, didn't you?”
“I thought you'd be more discreet! More subtle!”
“Well, I -”
Before she could finish, Jo heard more footsteps coming from over her shoulder, and as she turned she saw a late middle-aged man entering the hallway, carrying a set of papers.
“And that must be the elusive Herbert Stone,” Nick whispered.
“Herbert Stone!” the man said loudly as he set the papers down. Making no effort to disguise the fact that he was in a foul mood, he flipped through the various documents until finally finding whatever he was after, at which point he slid the papers toward Jo and set a pen down. “You will read this, and then you will sign it. Assuming you still insist on staying for dinner, at least.”
“What exactly -”
“It's a non-disclosure agreement,” he continued, “and I'm afraid you cannot set foot in this house until your signature is in the appropriate place at the bottom. Miss Mason, I hope you'll understand that we have to be very careful with information at the moment. If news of Rachel's return were to leak, we would be besieged by members of the fourth estate, and that is something we simply cannot tolerate. Our priority has to be the safety and well-being of our daughter, so you and your guest must both sign this document immediately!”
Looking down at the form, Jo saw that it was a formal contract, complete with an eye-catching declaration at the center of the page.
“Ten million quid?” Nick spluttered, clearly shocked. “You can't be serious!”
“You will each of us be liable to pay this family the sum of ten million pounds,” Herbert continued, “if you are found to have leaked any information to the media. There shall be no negotiations here. Either you sign and enter the house on these terms, or you can turn around on your heels and go back to wherever you came from. Frankly, that latter option is absolutely fine by me! My lawyers, however, will still be watching your every move with great interest.”
“I'll sign your form,” Jo replied, scribbling her signature on the document before sliding the paper over to Nick.
“I'm not sure about this,” he told her. “I mean, ten million is -”
“It doesn't matter,” she said firmly. “You're not going to tell anyone about this, so just sign your name.”
“Sure, but I...” He hesitated for a moment, before rolling his eyes and doing as he was told. “Let's just say I'm not happy about all this,” he continued, lowering his voice a little. “I've never had to sign a bloody form just to get into a dinner party.”
Once he was done, he handed the form to Herbert, who took a moment to check that everything was in order before finally sighing as he gestured for them to go through.
“Rachel and my wife are waiting in the dining room,” he announced, his voice thick with tension, as if he'd rather be anywhere else in the whole world. “I suppose you had better go and join them.”
***
“We were thinking of taking a big family holiday to somewhere very ho
t and very far away,” Diana Stone explained as she poured herself some more wine from the decanter. “A few months in Bora Bora, perhaps.”
“Oh, it's nice there,” Nick replied, with some bread still in his mouth.
“You've been?” Diana asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
“Me and some mates went for my twenty-first,” he explained. “Seriously, you'll have the best time. I reckon it's one of the top clubs in the whole of Ibiza.”
Rachel bowed her head a little and smiled.
“I think there's been a misunderstanding,” Diana said cautiously. “We'll be going to the Bora Bora in the Pacific. It's one of the Leeward islands. Very exclusive.”
“Oh, right,” Nick replied, looking down at his plate. “Well, I bet they've got some good clubs there, too.”
“One would hope not,” Diana said tartly.
“Mummy and Daddy want to hide me away,” Rachel explained, clearly amused by the situation. “They think that if we go halfway around the world, no-one'll ever see me. If I didn't know better, I'd think that they were ashamed of me.”
“Nonsense, darling,” Diana purred, reaching over and placing a hand on her arm. “We just have so much catching-up to do. Plus, of course, you must remember that the media in this country can be utterly rapacious. I don't think there's a single honest, decent journalist left in the whole of the United Kingdom. They're all ravenous, parasitic vermin and not one of them can be trusted. It sickens me that they're even allowed to exist.”
“None taken,” Nick muttered after a moment, rolling his eyes.
“Still,” Rachel continued, “I suppose some sun wouldn't be bad.” She twisted slightly in her seat, as if she was slightly uncomfortable, and then she did the same thing a couple more times. “I barely saw the sun at all when I was living under that bridge in London. Of course, it wasn't very safe to be seen out during the day, on account of all the rapists and murderers and weirdos. A girl can get very pale when she lives under a bridge. I remember one night, I found a puddle of -”