Stolen

by Rebecca Muddiman

  Abby dropped her hand from his. ‘What?’

  Simon looked back at Casey as she jumped off the roundabout. She continued to twirl around and after several turns she fell to the floor in a giggling heap. An image of Abby drunk on cheap cider crept into his mind. Simon instinctively made a move to go to her but as Sara walked over and picked her up he stumbled back onto the bench and felt a stab of pain in his heart unlike anything he’d felt before.

  He turned back to Abby and his breath caught in his chest. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes.’

  Abby reached out for him with shaking hands and stroked his hair, a smile peeking through the stream of tears like the sun through a rain-soaked window pane. Simon wrapped his arms around her and for the first time he felt like everything would work out.

  Abby pulled away from Simon and turned around, leaning down and pretending to fasten her shoelace. Simon glanced to his side and saw Sara and Casey walking their way. As much as he felt he should, he just couldn’t drag his eyes away from them. Grabbing his phone from his pocket he turned on the camera function and snapped a picture of Casey as she turned towards him. Sara stared obliviously ahead at the duck pond and tugged on Casey’s hand, encouraging her to turn and look at the ducks and swans swimming carelessly through the muddy water.

  Once they passed by, Abby turned back to Simon and followed his eyes down to the picture of Casey on his phone. She took the phone from his hand and lifted it closer to her face.

  Abby and Simon walked hand in hand on the opposite side of the pond to Sara and Casey. They kept several paces behind them, but Sara never once looked their way and Casey was too concerned with distributing bread equally amongst the ducks to even notice she was the centre of their attention.

  As Sara tried to lead Casey away she stopped and felt around in her jeans pocket. Pulling a phone out she answered while keeping an eye on her charge. After a brief conversation she hung up and shouted for Casey to follow her. Casey looked from Sara to the queue of ducks to the remaining bread in her hand. Making a quick decision she tore the bread into four and flung it into the water, laughing as the ducks raced to collect their prizes.

  Sara and Casey headed towards the car park. Abby and Simon walked quickly in an effort to keep up. As they reached the car park a black Range Rover pulled in and Casey waved at someone unseen. Abby and Simon waited by the gate, trying to blend in with the incoming and outgoing groups of people.

  Sara opened the back door of the car and ushered Casey towards it. As she did, the driver’s door opened and a tall, red-haired woman stepped out. She walked around to Casey and bent down to give her a hug. Casey was speaking rapidly, probably regaling the woman with stories about ducks and swans and roundabouts. The woman smiled and stood up.

  ‘That must be her,’ Abby said.

  Simon tore his eyes away from Casey and looked down at Abby. ‘What?’

  He followed Abby’s eyes and saw she was no longer staring at Casey; instead she focused on the woman. As Casey was put into the car and the two women climbed into the front, Abby started to walk towards them. Simon pulled her back by the collar.

  ‘Stop,’ he said.

  ‘I want to talk to her,’ Abby said, trying to pull away.

  ‘Abby, wait,’ he said, his eyes still glued to the woman in the driver’s seat. Abby turned and looked at him.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked.

  ‘That woman,’ he said, ‘I know her.’

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Gardner gave one last glance up at Marcus Davies’ flat before getting in the car. It was the second time he’d spoken to Chelsea’s father and he liked him even less now than before. Jill Hoffman had been adamant that he hadn’t taken their daughter but only because they hadn’t seen him for over four years and he didn’t give a shit. Why would he want her? Jill had asked Gardner.

  Why would he want her?

  That got to him. Why wouldn’t a father want his own child? He was sure she hadn’t meant it that way, but to him it made Chelsea sound like a burdensome pet, or a piece of junk. But Davies’ attitude was pretty much as Jill had made out. He couldn’t care less about his daughter. He wasn’t even aware she was missing the first time they’d visited and it didn’t appear that he’d been losing much sleep since he’d been informed. He certainly didn’t have her. He didn’t have enough money to keep himself so why would he want a kid sucking up everything he had? Gardner left Davies’ flat with no doubt that he was innocent; or innocent of abduction anyway. The man couldn’t have abducted anyone; it would require half a brain cell and the drive to drag himself off the settee.

  DC Harrington hadn’t said a word the whole time they were there. He’d stood by the door, looking around the cramped living room in disgust. Gardner wanted to bring Lawton. He was trying to push her towards applying for the detective exam, trying to get her experience wherever she could find it, but though he had no doubt she had the intelligence and the commitment, she was still lacking in confidence. She was happy to continue knocking on doors asking old folks if they’d seen anything and listening to their life stories in return. He knew she was better than that. She could handle something bigger, Marcus Davies for example, he knew she could. She just didn’t know it. So he was stuck with Harrington, who was actually a pretty good detective and had done some pretty good work on the case so far. Gardner just didn’t like him. Couldn’t say why. He just didn’t.

  As they drove through the estate, past the parade of boarded-up shops, Harrington wound down the window. Personally, Gardner would’ve waited until they were back on the main road. Less chance some kid would throw a brick at them.

  ‘I think I’m going to need two showers after that. At least two,’ Harrington said, lifting his shirt collar to his nose. ‘Jesus. Maybe the kid is there.’

  Gardner looked over at Harrington. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Maybe that’s what smells so bad. The kid’s rotting body,’ Harrington said with a grin. Gardner didn’t return it. ‘What?’ he said, laughing. ‘It’s a joke.’

  ‘Hilarious,’ Gardner said as he turned out onto the main road and finally wound down his window.

  ‘So now what?’ Harrington said.

  Gardner shook his head. ‘I want to speak to the mother again. See if you can get hold of Lawton. Tell her to meet me at the station.’

  ‘Lawton,’ Harrington said. ‘You know, I think she’s still a virgin.’ Gardner resisted the urge to roll his eyes. ‘She’s just got that look about her, you know.’

  ‘I think that could be construed as sexual harassment,’ Gardner said.

  ‘Not if she doesn’t know about it,’ Harrington grinned. Gardner just glared at him. ‘Oh shit,’ he said. ‘You’re not..? Are you?’

  ‘No, I’m not,’ Gardner said.

  ‘Shame.’ Harrington fell silent for a few blissful minutes. ‘What about that blonde?’

  ‘What blonde?’ Gardner asked, his brain flicking through images of women they worked with.

  ‘The writer. Jen.’

  Gardner turned and looked at Harrington. ‘What about her?’

  ‘If you haven’t already, she’s well up for it. I thought I was in with a chance until you walked in, you bastard. She even gave me her number. Guess there’s no accounting for taste.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Gardner asked, although if he was honest he had noticed it before. Every time they met she’d touched him at least once, though he wasn’t convinced it was entirely personal to him. He got the impression Jen was pretty tactile, to say the least.

  ‘Come off it,’ Harrington said. ‘You must’ve noticed.’ Gardner just shrugged. ‘Or is it the brunette you’re interested in?’

  ‘Abby?’ Gardner said. ‘I think that’d be inappropriate, don’t you?’

  Harrington leaned back in his seat, stretchin
g. ‘The heart wants what the heart wants. Or at least the dick does.’ He grinned.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Abby and Simon watched as the car drove away. He led her back into the park and sat her down on the nearest unoccupied bench.

  ‘Who is she?’ Abby asked.

  He stared at the ground for a while, unable to speak, unsure of what to say. He recognised the woman but couldn’t think who she was or where he knew her from. Something about her triggered an uneasy feeling in his gut. Not just that she seemed to be posing as Beth’s mother. Simon felt that he should know her, that she was significant in a way he couldn’t recall.

  ‘Simon? Who is she?’ Abby said again, turning his face to look at her.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said, trying to pull a cigarette free from the pack. ‘I recognise her but I can’t think where from.’ He rubbed his temples and closed his eyes. ‘God!’ He moaned in frustration. ‘I know her.’

  Simon looked at Abby, seeing the fear, the concern on her face, and moved closer, putting an arm around her shoulders. He wanted to say something reassuring, some innocuous words that he knew would really mean nothing but at least he would be saying something. But he couldn’t do it anymore. Abby had been right all along. Her actions had been worth it after all. And sitting there by the playground less than an hour earlier he’d allowed himself to think that everything was going to be alright. That they’d work it out and Beth would be returned to them and they’d all live happily ever after. But now that feeling had evaporated and he was left with the stone-cold truth that they weren’t really any closer to getting their daughter back. The fact that they’d seen her meant nothing. They had no proof, nothing to go to the police with, not really. If anything they were worse off. Now Beth was there, had been there right in front of them, but was completely out of their reach. But there was something he could do if only he could remember who that woman was.

  Abby picked at the take-away with her fork but hadn’t actually put anything in her mouth for more than twenty minutes. Simon had managed to eat something but she noticed that even he was struggling. Her mind was full of conflicting thoughts. On the one hand she was overjoyed that Simon had agreed with her. She wasn’t going insane. Her daughter was within reach, finally. But then she knew that it wasn’t that straightforward. How was she going to get Beth back? How would her little girl feel about it? She looked happy. Was Abby even right to want to take her away from that? How would Beth feel about being taken away from everything she’d ever known to be given to two people that were, to her, perfect strangers?

  And then there was the woman. Ever since they’d seen her Abby hadn’t been able to get her out of her mind.

  Simon knew her.

  She’d been pressing him, trying to jog his memory but it wasn’t working and the more she pushed the more he retreated. She kept thinking about him and this woman, wondering how well they’d known each other. He wouldn’t keep it from her, not something this important. But still it bothered her. She wondered if it was the thought of them together, a stupid jealousy. If only. No, what bothered her was the thought that kept sliding to the front of her mind that it was somehow Simon’s fault. He knew the woman who’d stolen their daughter. If it hadn’t been for him maybe she wouldn’t have been taken.

  She’d tried to call Gardner, keen to tell him the news and to find out the mystery woman’s name; but she’d been unable to get hold of him. She wondered if he’d been to see this woman already, if he knew something Abby didn’t.

  Simon started clearing away the foil cartons. ‘Finished?’ he asked. Abby nodded, put her fork down and stood to help. They tossed the leftovers into the bin and went into the living room. Simon switched on the TV and flicked through the channels in a continuous loop. Despite having the most important event of their lives hanging over them, neither was able to talk. It was too much. Both knew the problems they faced and by keeping them inside hoped somehow they’d remain at bay.

  Gardner slurped the last of his coffee in a vain attempt at staying alert. He glanced at Lawton. She hadn’t said a word since they’d left Jill Hoffman’s house. She was hardly talkative at the best of times, but he could understand the reason for her silence now. Hoffman was hard work. Working with anyone whose child was missing was hard, but it was more than that. Chelsea’s mother seemed to resent the police at times. Maybe she thought they weren’t doing enough, or she just didn’t like the police anyway. Either way she was difficult, and Lawton, in her role as family liaison officer, seemed to take the brunt of it. Lawton was good at it. He’d been surprised just how good she was. She seemed to be able to bring comfort to victim’s families, and usually they trusted her. But Hoffman was having none of it and he could tell Lawton was blaming herself.

  ‘You sure you don’t mind doing this?’ Gardner asked.

  Lawton shook her head. She hadn’t asked him any questions when he’d told her he had one more stop to make. He couldn’t decide whether he liked that about her or not. In this case it was probably a good thing. He knew he had no real reason to be there; that this probably had nothing to do with his case. And if you were going to be pedantic, Abby’s wasn’t his case, not really, not anymore. His case was the disappearance of Chelsea Davies. Yet here he was, sitting outside the house of what was most likely a normal family, an innocent family, and he was about to knock on the door and basically ask them if they’d stolen their child.

  Maybe that’s why he’d brought Lawton, so when these people inevitably complained about him she could back him up, explain he was just trying to prove to Abby once and for all that the girl she’d seen wasn’t her daughter, that everyone’s lives could go back to normal once he’d spoken to the little girl’s mother.

  Gardner could sense Lawton glancing his way every few seconds. ‘What?’ he asked.

  ‘Sir?’ Lawton said.

  ‘You look like you’ve got something to say. So spit it out.’

  She looked out the window towards the house. He waited for her to ask why they were there.

  ‘You transferred from Blyth, right?’ Lawton said, barely looking him in the eye.

  Gardner felt the familiar twist in his gut. He didn’t want to do this. Not now. And not with Lawton, of all people. He thought they had a connection. He thought she had some respect for him, maybe even looked up to him, however misguided that might be. He sighed and turned towards her. At least she had the decency to ask him directly.

  ‘What about it?’ he said.

  Lawton looked down at her hands twisting on her lap. ‘I just wanted to know how easy it was to move, to transfer down here.’

  How easy? How could she possibly think it’d been easy?

  ‘It’s just,’ she tried to make eye contact but couldn’t quite do it. ‘Lee’s applied for this job in Birmingham and he thinks he’s going to get it and that’d mean moving and I just wanted to know how it works, getting transferred.’

  Gardner felt a brief moment of relief that this wasn’t about him. That Lawton wasn’t like the rest of them.

  ‘You’re leaving?’ he said.

  ‘No,’ Lawton said. ‘I don’t know. He might not even get the job.’

  Gardner felt a stab of sadness. He’d never really thought about it before but he’d miss Lawton if she went. They weren’t really friends, didn’t socialise outside of work, but of everyone he worked with she was the last person he’d want to leave. There were several others, on the other hand, he’d gladly see the back of.

  ‘Do you want to go?’

  Lawton shrugged. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Maybe? How long have you been together?’

  ‘Almost a year.’

  Gardner was surprised. He’d never thought to ask her about her life outside of work. If he thought about it, he didn’t know much about her at all.

  ‘So what does this Lee do? What job’s
so important in Birmingham?’

  Lawton shook her head. ‘I’d rather not say.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  Lawton sighed. ‘He’s a motivational speaker.’

  Gardner started to laugh. Lawton tried to look offended but couldn’t help joining in with him.

  ‘Don’t laugh,’ she said, eventually. ‘He takes it really seriously.’

  ‘I bet he does,’ Gardner said, trying to compose himself. After a moment he turned serious again. ‘Have you actually discussed it? Is it something you both want or does he just expect you to drop things and go with him?’

  Lawton frowned. ‘We’ve talked a bit,’ she said. ‘Listen, I’m not ready to pack up and leave just yet, I just wanted some advice.’ She turned back to the house, clearly done talking about it.

  Gardner looked down into his cup. He shouldn’t have laughed at her. He took one last swig of cold coffee and tossed the paper cup onto the floor of the car with the rest before glancing over at the house.

  ‘Ready?’ he asked and Lawton nodded.

  They walked across the street and Gardner knocked and waited. The door opened and a red-haired woman stood and looked at him. She ignored Lawton. She didn’t ask who he was or what he wanted, she just waited. Gardner cleared his throat.

  ‘Sorry to bother you. I’m DI Gardner,’ he said, ‘are you Mrs Helen Deal?’

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  The woman pulled her cardigan closed across her chest. ‘It’s Ms Deal,’ she said, without altering her expression.

  ‘I’m sorry to bother you this late but I was wondering if we could have a quick word?’

  Helen finally glanced at Lawton before looking around the street. She stepped back, allowing them to enter. She looked down at Gardner’s shoes as he wiped his feet on the mat. ‘If you wouldn’t mind taking your shoes off,’ she said.