The Lost Girls of Devon

by Barbara O'Neal

  “What did you find?” Sage asked.

  I picked up the bag and handed it to him. “Look.”

  He wiped his fingers and unzipped it, then looked inside. “What the—?” He pulled out a fistful of notes. “Where was it?”

  “In the freezer. I didn’t know what to do, but it feels like she might have been in trouble, to stash this much money. Like, why else would she need cash?”

  “We’re going to have to tell the inspector.”

  “I know. I just don’t want her to be—”

  “In trouble?”

  “I know. It’s ridiculous.”

  He pulled out the envelopes, frowning. “Did you count how much was in each one? Is it the same, different?”

  “I didn’t. Someone came to the door and scared the hell out of me.”

  “Who?”

  I shook my head. “Somebody who might have been trying to get in if it hadn’t been for a neighbor.”

  Sage looked at the money, then tossed me an envelope. “Count yours.”

  We both counted and came up with the same sum: £2,500.

  “A lot of money,” he said. “How many envelopes?” He eyed them. “Maybe a dozen?”

  “What was she doing, Sage?”

  He tossed the bag on the ground. “I don’t know. Jesus.” He rubbed his face. “How could all of this be happening to her and I had no idea?”

  “I didn’t either!”

  “But you lived a long way away. I saw her all the time. You’d think I would have noticed something.”

  “I just thought she seemed happy.”

  “Me too.”

  We fell silent, then started eating again, each of us lost in our own thoughts.

  “There has to be an answer,” I said. “Let’s look at this logically. What’s the first thing that happened? She met Henry, and her business started booming with his fishing trips.”

  “Right. And then, she and Henry fell in love.”

  “She kept building her business with the fishing trips, and—wait. Didn’t you say you thought the Persephone might be the answer to the weird business entries?”

  “Yes. Let’s see if we can figure that part out.”

  “First let’s finish this. They fell in love. He seemed pretty serious about her.”

  “Where did all this money come from?” he asked, looking both bewildered and frustrated.

  “Maybe Henry’s gig is gambling. A couple of different people have said that there are some high-stakes poker parties on the fishing trips. They’re very wealthy men—maybe they’re buying into the games, and he gets a cut?”

  He nodded, frowning. “But why stash it in the freezer?”

  “Drug money, tech money?”

  “Maybe.” He tapped a foot. “I keep thinking about the girl who died of a drug overdose. How did she get in the water?”

  “Huh. That’s a very good question. Was she on one of the boats?”

  “She was a runaway, right?”

  “That’s what Gran said the inspector told her. Do you want me to text her?”

  “No, that’s not necessary.” He stood up, walked to the stove, walked back. “Why did Diana have that house in Exeter? What was she going to do with it?”

  I shook my head. “We don’t know.”

  “What if what’s being smuggled isn’t phones or drugs, but girls?”

  “Oh, my God.” A sense of horror mixed with recognition poured through me. “The Persephone,” I said. “Who owns that yacht?”

  “I don’t know. But I think we need to go to town. To see the police.”

  “Yeah. And I need to know where my daughter is.” I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. We both stood, carried the bowls to the sink, and headed for the door. Sage picked up the cash as he passed.

  Sage was by far the better driver, so I climbed into the Range Rover. Matt jumped up in the back seat, ready for adventure. I texted Isabel:

  What are you doing?

  Her answer didn’t come right away, and my stomach squeezed. I’d learned that she didn’t always reply when she was with her friends, so I gave it five minutes, then texted again:

  Isabel, I’m worried. You need to answer me now.

  Still no answer. “She’s not picking up.” I stared at the phone as if to make it light up with her text. “Probably irritated.”

  “To be honest, I don’t know. Where do the girls come from?”

  “We don’t even know if that’s what it is!” I scowled at the phone, resisting, then caved and checked the Find My Friends app. Isabel was squarely where she should have been, right on top of the bluff where the carnival was. Relief and irritation filled me. “I just can’t stop worrying about her,” I said. “Something awful happened to her, and she won’t tell me what it was.”

  “Something awful like what?”

  “I don’t know. She was bullied somehow. Her friends turned on her.” In the dark cab, hurtling down the hill to the village, it was easier to talk about it. “Something happened one night when she spent the night with her girlfriends. The next day, she was a different person. She got off all social media and trashed her phone—she said she lost it, but I don’t believe her—and flat out refused to go to school.”

  “Wow. And you couldn’t find out what it was?”

  “Believe me, I tried everything I could think of. I talked to the parents of the girls, and I had the principal do an investigation, but nothing. Nothing,” I said again. “I don’t even know how that’s possible, that there could be no trace of anything.”

  My phone, right on time, buzzed.

  MOM! STOP THIS! YOU ARE STRANGLING ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  I snapped.

  Then maybe you should have let me in and told me the truth about what happened. I can’t stop worrying.

  why are you doing this right now????????

  I realized, with a stinging sense of idiocy, that it was weird.

  I don’t know. Worried about that girl, about everything.

  Three dots hung on the screen for a long time, then disappeared. Came back. Then:

  I will tell you. Just give me a break. I’m having fun! I’m happy!

  Promise?

  YES. OK??? Now leave me alone. I have to go home in an hour. :)

  “Argh.” I dropped my head against the seat. “She really is happy again. I hate to make her go home.”

  “I would never have figured you for a fretful mum.”

  “I’m actually not. Well, I am right now, but mostly, I want her to make decisions while I’m right here,” I began. “You never learn to make good decisions if nobody lets you make them. If she falls on her face now, it’ll be a lot easier to pick up the pieces than it will be later.”

  “Are we still talking about Isabel?”

  “I don’t know. No. I wish my mother and Gran and Dad would have let me make more choices. Somebody else always decided.” I watched the lights swoop across the hedgerows, casting shadows short and long, like a cartoon. “And then, when I did make a choice, to go to Glasgow on my own, I didn’t have the grounding I needed. I was so insecure, and then I just blew it all up and ran home.”

  “We all make mistakes, Zoe. It’s part of living.”

  “I know.” I sighed. “I think that’s part of my problem, though, that I’m always trying to make it just right.”

  “So that your mum won’t leave you?”

  I ducked my head. “Maybe.”

  He squeezed my hand. “I’d go back and make different choices too,” he said.

  “What choices?”

  “I thought I hated you, Zoe. Like real hate.” He shook his head. “The second I saw you at the market this time, I knew that was just a big lie.”

  “I know. Me too. Except—”

  “Except?”

  “I wouldn’t have Isabel, and she’s everything to me. If I think about going back, I can’t do one thing that would mean I didn’t have her.”

  For a moment, he was silent. When he spoke again, his voice was husky
with emotion. “And I wouldn’t have had the time with Alice.” He cleared his throat. “Being there for her while she died was one of the most powerful times in my life. I would not trade it.”

  Deeply moved, I covered his hand. “I love her socks,” I said, and as I’d meant him to, he gave me a smile.

  “Are we starting again?” I asked. “Me and you?”

  “I hope so.” He raised my hand to his lips. “I was afraid of it, but now—”

  “Now?”

  He let go of a breath. “I’m more afraid of not taking the chances life offers.”

  “Me too,” I whispered.

  “What about your life in Santa Fe?”

  I snorted. “Some life. The only person I’d miss is my father. And—” I looked out the window, acknowledging the truth. “Gran is dying. I need to be here with her.”

  “Yes.”

  As we drove into town, the lights of the carnival glittered against the still-heavy sky. “Looks beautiful, doesn’t it?”

  “I guess. It’s a lot of wasted energy.”

  “What?” I slapped his chest with the back of my hand. “Are you serious?”

  “Well, a little serious. We have to reduce our consumption on every level if we want a world worth living in. Maybe fewer carnivals wouldn’t be so bad.”

  I stared at him for a minute. “This is actually one of the reasons I was afraid to be with you before.”

  He grinned in the dark. “Because I’m a conservationist?”

  “Because you’re kind of priggish about it.” He kissed my fingers, and I relented. “But I have to admit you’re right. I mean, how much worse is it since we were together then?”

  “Some things are worse, but some are better.” He pulled into a parking space in front of the constabulary. “But right now, we need to face the music over this cash.”

  “I’m scared.”

  “I’ll tell them we were both there. And they know she was our best friend. What charges would they even press?”

  “Breaking and entering? Tampering?”

  “Not going to happen. I’ve known Hannaford since he had a crush on my mom after my dad died. He knows me better than that. C’mon.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Zoe

  We walked into the station, and I felt guilty instantly. “Is Inspector Hannaford around?” I asked.

  “He’s in his office,” said the man behind the desk, a beefy guy I hadn’t seen before. “Big break in the case today.”

  “Really? What kind of break?”

  The man cocked his head, gesturing toward the back. “That boyfriend of hers is singing.”

  Startled, I looked toward the back, and there was Henry, head in his hands, sitting on a bench. Hannaford was on the phone, writing something down. “May I talk to Henry?”

  “No. You can sit and wait.”

  Sage and I sat gingerly on the bench. He held the bag with the money between his legs, as if a thief might come along and rip it out of his hands. I looked at the phone in my hand, wondering if I should text Isabel again or leave her alone for an hour.

  The inspector made the choice for me by coming out of the office and waving a hand in our direction. Henry raised his head, and he looked utterly haggard.

  “What can I do for you?” Inspector Hannaford asked, gesturing us into the office.

  “Do you mind if I close the door?” I asked, pointing.

  “Not at all.”

  I closed the door and perched on the edge of the chair. “I don’t know if you’re aware that Diana was one of our best friends, both of us, from childhood.”

  He nodded. He looked as weary as Henry, and it seemed it had been a very bad day for them.

  Sage said, “We wanted to look through the house one more time, see if we missed anything, if something might point us in the right direction.” He heaved the multicolored bag onto the desk. “We found something in the freezer.”

  The inspector frowned and stood up to open it and look inside. Upon seeing the bills, he looked at us. “What were you doing in there?”

  “It was my idea,” I said. “I just needed to see if there was anything I missed. Something I might understand that you—or anyone else—might not understand.”

  “It was in the freezer?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you count it?”

  Sage said, “Not all of it, but the packages we did count were all twenty-five hundred pounds.”

  He wiped his face. “All right. Christ. You’ve put yourselves in a position. How’m I to know if you kept some of the money for yourself?”

  “You know we didn’t,” Sage said. “And there’s more. We found some notes in her business accounts about a property in Exeter. We went there, and it was empty.”

  “Look, I’ve got a big witness out there who’s waiting for his solicitor and a case about to crack wide open. Diana’s murder might be connected, but it’s bigger than that, and I need to keep my wits about me.” He looked in the bag again. “Christ. I hate that she was mixed up in this.”

  “Gambling?” I offered.

  “How did you hear that?”

  “It’s logical. Everyone’s been talking about it in town, and the men on those charters have deep pockets, right?” I leaned forward.

  Sage caught my arm. I took the hint. “I guess that’s your job, isn’t it?”

  “Thank you, Ms. Fairchild. You have been very helpful. I’ll let you know if I need anything else.”

  “What if,” Sage said casually, standing up, “it’s girls?”

  Hannaford frowned. “I don’t follow.”

  “What if the gambling has been hiding a sex-trafficking ring?”

  For a long moment, Hannaford only looked at Sage, his expression unreadable. Then he swore. “Jesus fucking Christ.” He picked up the phone. “Grayson, get in here.”

  A constable with a trim waist and crisp uniform came in.

  “Bring in the commodore.”

  “Sir?”

  “Just do it.” His polite manner broke, and he waved a hand at us. “You need to get out of here. Go home. We’ll let you know if we need you. And stay out of the way.”

  I leapt to my feet. “Absolutely. Thank you.”

  As we headed out, I stopped. “Henry, was it girls? Was she trying to save them?”

  He only hung his head. I wondered what he knew, what he’d mixed her up in, and rage burned through my veins. “She loved you,” I said.

  Sage pulled me away.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Isabel

  The carnival—which everybody calls a fair—was kind of lame, and after we tried to win teddy bears and had ridden the loser-size Ferris wheel and eaten a bunch of cotton candy, or “candy floss,” as they called it, we detoured into the woods. It was dark, but we used our phone flashlights to find a good spot, and we settled in for the real purpose of the evening. To party.

  I really wasn’t all that sure I wanted to stay. My curfew was in a half hour, my mom was in freak-out mode, and I didn’t really want to get on her bad side. But the balance of girls to boys was not great. Too many boys to three girls. I didn’t want to leave Molly.

  I was feeling guilty about partying when I knew my mom would hate it, but mainly because I should never have told Poppy about the pictures before I told my mom. Poppy is her mortal enemy, like in a Shakespeare play or something—a vow to the death to hate somebody.

  I think Poppy is one of the best people I’ve ever met. Not just kind, or not kind in that soapy, fake way, but genuinely interested in other people. It seems like she really likes people, all of them.

  But my mom has a point. Poppy left her. Loving all the other people in the world doesn’t really make up for that.

  “You want some?” Molly asked, passing the joint.

  “Nah.” I passed it on and stood. “I’m gonna go. My mom’s been freaking out. You want to walk back with me?”

  “Yeah,” Molly said, and she handed off the joint. “Maybe I’ll buy
some more candy floss.”

  “I’ll walk you guys back to the fair,” Isaac said. “It’s dark.”

  “Thanks.” We turned on our phones and walked back through the trees. The fair glowed bright against the night, and it looked beautiful from here. “I’m looking forward to seeing the art booths.”

  “Yeah, it’s not bad,” Isaac said. “I have to work tomorrow, but maybe I’ll see you Sunday?”

  “Maybe.” We reached the edge of the woods. “I’ve got it from here.”

  He nodded, lifting a hand, but he didn’t try to kiss me again, maybe because Molly was there.

  “Isaac likes you,” Molly said after he’d left. “You like him?”

  I shrugged. “I’m taking a break from guys, really.”

  Molly nodded. “Somebody hurt you?”

  I looked out over the black ocean, appearing dangerous behind the bright lights of the carnival. “Not like you think.”

  “Girls are worse sometimes.” Molly lit a cigarette. “Wait for me a sec while I go to the loo?”

  “Sure.”

  Molly peeled away and loped behind a bank of booths that hadn’t been completely set up yet. I shivered a little in the cold and watched the Ferris wheel spin around. My phone beeped, and it was Molly.

  Weird guys over here. Meet me

  OMW

  I rounded the booths, but there was no one there. The porta potties were all in a line, but nobody was around. “Molly?” I called, looking around.

  No answer.

  The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I turned around and ran back to the front of the booths before I texted her:

  Hey, where are u?

  My phone stayed silent. I turned in a circle, looking around carefully. Maybe she was playing a joke on me, trying to scare me. It was pretty busy, families and teens and even some tourists.

  I texted again:

  Hey, this isn’t funny. Text me back

  Nothing. I walked around the main area, looking for her, but nothing. I wished I had Isaac’s number, but we hadn’t gotten that far yet. Then I saw a flash of red, the color of Molly’s blouse, and I ran after her.

  But when I got there, she was gone.

  It was dark and getting kind of lonely, and I didn’t know what to do. I thought about running back to the woods, but I wasn’t sure I could find the others that easily, and honestly, I was getting pretty creeped out.