by Joanne Ellis
Totally amazed by the impact she was having on every one of his senses, Lucas attempted desperately to get himself back under control. She’s just another beautiful girl. He saw them every day. But, he couldn’t bury his urgent need to protect her, which was the totally opposite reaction to what usually occurred when he saw a pretty face.
As they walked into the interview room, his hand shook as he gestured for her to take a seat. Lucas took out a pen clumsily, placed a notepad on the table and sat opposite her.
“What’s your friend’s name?”
“Elle Sheridan.”
“Elle?”
“Elle.”
This was stupid. Get a hold of yourself.
“When did you last see Elle?”
“Friday night, about six, a—“
“You’re only reporting it now?” He cut her off with a gruff tone, overcompensating for what he would really have liked to have said to her.
Lucas observed her jolt back as though she’d been struck, before a frost entered her expression.
“As I was about to say,” she replied with a definite briskness after composing herself, “I saw her last Friday night, about six, as I was leaving to go to my parents’ house for the weekend. I didn’t return until Monday night and I wasn’t sure if she was home. It was late and her bedroom door was closed. She usually leaves a light on for me, so I did wonder if she was home or not, as the house was dark.”
“You didn’t talk to her over the weekend, while you were away?” Chelsea noted his tone was still brusque and his eyes had darkened by several shades.
“No I didn’t. We don’t check up on each other,” she replied in the same cool tone.
“So you don’t know how long she’s been missing?”
“No, I don’t. When I got home Monday night, I wasn’t sure if she was home and even if she wasn’t, I didn’t find it too unusual. Elle often stays away overnight. The only thing that was strange was that her car was there, but I thought she must have got a lift with somebody else.”
“You didn’t think it was strange she could’ve been gone for two days?”
“Not at first, but when I found she wasn’t home this morning, I was concerned, which is why I’m here now. I called her phone last night and this was when I found her handbag in her room. I was going to report it then but, like I said, it has happened before.”
Lucas stiffened as a chill tickled its way up his spine. This was beginning to sound familiar.
“What does she look like?”
“She’s tall and blonde, with blue eyes.”
He breathed out with relief. Wrong description but still it didn’t pay to discount her completely.
The relief broke his concentration. Is that her that smells so good? What do I need to ask her? I can’t think straight. Snap out of it, Hudson.
“I’ll log the details into missing persons and they’ll investigate this further.” He had to move her out as quick as possible before he felt tempted to touch her.
“Is that it?” she said. Her small full lips pursed, sending Lucas’ heart into a flurry.
God she’s incredible. Lucas steadied himself. “Yes, that’s all we can do for now. In the meantime, contact everyone she knows. She could be staying with someone and have forgotten to phone.”
A delicate dark eyebrow arched and a slight smile touched her lips. “Without her bag and purse, Detective?”
Lucas frowned and internally kicked himself. “It’s possible. I’m sorry this isn’t my area. I can only enter your statement. A missing person detective will follow it up.” Not my area? What are you on about? You’re a cop, Lucas! Everything is your area. He needed to get away from her. Trying to string a thought together was becoming impossible. He was awestruck, something he couldn’t remember being in a long time and never this powerfully.
“Fine,” she said standing with haste. “Thank you for your time.” She strode out of the room and down the hall.
Lucas sat mesmerised for a moment, attempting to recover from meeting the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. Sure he’d seen and met a lot of pretty girls but they had never rendered him completely hopeless before. He hadn’t even interviewed her properly. Being so close to her was beyond intoxicating. He hadn’t asked her name. He hadn’t told her his. He hadn’t asked her enough questions. Was he going to jeopardise this investigation because he’d lost his head over a passing infatuation?
Shoving his fanciful thoughts aside, Lucas considered for a moment the possibility Elle had been kidnapped by the same perp, even though her description didn’t match the pattern. Could the killer have changed MO? He’d better fill Maggie in on the details, it could be important.
Incensed with himself, Lucas went back to his desk to speak with his partner. He slammed down into his chair, disrupting Maggie from her note taking.
“What’s eating you? I thought you were going to grab us some breakfast.”
“I got side tracked. Another girl has gone missing.”
“What, who, when?”
“She’s blonde.”
“So? Maybe it isn’t just about hair colour. Was there anything that was the same as the others?”
“Yeah, her personal belongings are still at home.”
“Well what else? Is there a mystery guy? What?”
“I don’t know,” he mumbled.
“What?” She frowned.
“I got distracted.” He wouldn’t look up at Maggie and continued to stare down at his notes.
“Distracted?”
“Yeah, I was thinking with the wrong head.”
Maggie laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“You. I thought you were this tough, impenetrable brick wall.”
“She was pretty, I haven’t been laid for a while, no big deal,” he lied, hoping to avoid further questions. He knew this was not the reason for his reaction but couldn’t understand exactly why he’d responded as he had.
“I didn’t think anyone or anything got to you, well not on first sight anyway.”
“You did.” He lifted his eyes from his notes and offered a slight smile. “Look, I fucked up, it won’t happen again.”
“Ok,” she smirked raising an eyebrow. “I believe you.”
“So how about we concentrate on the case at hand and not my lack of sex life. I think we should check out the other warehouses seeing the first one was a bust.”
“Sure, I don’t think we can rule out this missing girl. Did you even get her name?”
“Yes, Elle Sheridan.” He glared at her.
“My mistake.” She lifted her hands in a gesture of surrender. “Let’s go then.”
They headed out and this time Lucas went in Maggie’s car. He needed time to collect himself. Maggie waited a few moments before bringing up the subject again.
“Did you get Elle’s address? Maybe we can re-interview ... what was her name?”
Lucas paused. “I don’t know.”
“You didn’t even ask that?”
“I told you, I wasn’t concentrating. Besides we can look up her address.”
“I suppose. This isn’t like you. Are you alright?”
“Yeah, just not sleeping well.”
“The dreams?”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“You’re distracted and you look uneasy. I’ve seen the look before.”
“It’ll pass, it always does. I’ll follow up the missing girl in the morning.”
“Ok, but I’m always here if you need me.”
“Yeah, I know, thanks, Mags. Let’s just hope the missing girl has nothing to do with our case.”
Chapter 7
Love and Confusion
Wednesday
Furious, Chelsea strode down the hallway and slammed out the front door. The nerve of that detective. When she realised he didn’t ask her name and hadn’t given her his, her annoyance grew. What kind of detective was he anyway? She wondered whether he’d taken her seriously at all. Perhaps
she should go back and talk to someone who would listen or at least care. Right now, though, she was livid and needed to calm down.
Chelsea didn’t intend to open the shop today. However, after her encounter with the uncaring detective, and with Elle missing, she needed somewhere she could relax and find some comfort. The one place she could do that was at Bloom.
Sick with worry and anxiety she drove towards her sanctuary. On the way she considered going home. What if Elle were to phone or return home? But would sitting around waiting for her to return really help?
Having tossed the issue this way and that, Chelsea eventually decided to drive on towards Bloom and resolved to check in over the day. What else could she do?
* * *
After investigating the other three warehouses and finding them vacant, the detectives decided to finish up for the day and start over in the morning. On the drive home, Lucas wondered which direction to take. The lack of evidence intensified his frustration.
The report on Kate Miller’s house would be completed by morning and he prayed for a fingerprint match or perhaps some kind of trace evidence, anything that would lead them somewhere closer. They needed a suspect, and fast, before they had another victim. Could this missing girl be the next one? He sincerely hoped not but as there weren’t any other missing women who fitted the description it was a possibility.
He decided they would have to go over everything again. They were missing something. Where were they meeting this guy? How were these girls connected? Lucas needed to refocus and obtain a clear head for the morning so sleep was his number one priority.
* * *
When Lucas walked into his apartment, a sudden sense of loneliness overcame him, something which was occurring more and more often lately. His home, small with sparse furniture, suited his needs as he spent little time here. After having a quick shower in an attempt to free his mind of circling thoughts and haunting visions, he collapsed into bed. He closed his eyes and attempted to block out the memories tormenting him. He tossed and turned but the images remained and sleep became impossible.
As he pushed aside his demons, milky soft skin and big green eyes swept over him. What was it about her that had him so stupefied? He conjured up briefly in his mind a parade of some of the many beautiful women he had known, and even slept with, but there was something more about this girl, something much stronger which tugged at him and he didn’t know what it was or why. He couldn’t allow these feelings to push through. He didn’t get close to anybody, especially to anyone related to a case. He’d made that mistake in his first year as detective and he had paid a heavy price. Anyone linked to an investigation in any way was off limits. Even if this hadn’t become his cardinal rule from all those years ago, the painful reality of losing loved ones deterred him from making any sort of commitment. He never wanted to love and then grieve again.
Giving up on rest, he grabbed the victims’ files from the side table and began to read. The flour trace was important. He could feel it, but how? Was it being transferred from where they were being held? It didn’t appear to be coming from the locations they had searched and there weren’t any other abandoned warehouses that fit the bill. So the killer could be taking them out of town or to a house filled with flour, but who has that much on their premises? Lucas didn’t want to think about the endless possibilities.
The other option could be the perp was a baker or chef of some kind and transmitted it with his hands. How many bakeries, cafés and restaurants were located in the city? Far too many to interview every person in every possible occupation. He grunted in frustration, there were too many options to consider and investigate. Time was what they needed to follow all the potential leads and time was what they had little of.
This wasn’t the only troublesome thought. The words SPOILT BITCH, why those words? Envy could be a contributing factor and driving force but both victims weren’t wealthy. Were they spoilt in another way? How?
He threw the folders down on the bed. Going in circles wasn’t getting them any closer. It all came down to Kate’s autopsy report and search of her house. They needed more evidence, something new.
Sleep was fitful for Lucas that night as he dreamed of emerald eyes, milky skin and bloody throats.
* * *
Maggie walked into her snug two bedroom cottage. The simple furnishings and quiet ambience suited Maggie and Steve. Being busy cops, and seeing the horrors they did, enhanced their need to come home to a sanctuary.
Maggie was welcomed by a delicious aroma emanating from the kitchen and knew Steve was preparing something mouth-watering.
“Hey, I’m home,” she called out.
“In the kitchen.”
“Smells great, babe. I’m famished.”
“Please sit down, my lady, and I’ll bring dinner to you.”
“Oh well, thank you, Sir,” she grinned.
Steve could always sense when she needed looking after. Her knight in shining armour, the most gorgeous man alive, was tall dark and handsome.
“Tough day, Mags?”
“You could say tough week. We’re getting nowhere with this case.”
“You’ll get him, you always do.”
He kissed her tenderly before placing her dinner and a glass of wine on the table in front of her. “I love you.”
She smiled.
She started to tuck into the meal he had lovingly prepared. “Speaking of love, some girl got to Lucas today.”
“No way! That man is made of steel.”
“It appears he isn’t after all. He questioned a girl whose roommate is missing and it might have helped with our investigation but he froze up instead. It was like he couldn’t get her out of there quick enough.”
“He’s so thorough.”
“Not today,” she grinned.
“Well I guess everyone needs a bit of love.”
“Oh, you’re such a romantic, Steve.”
“I know,” he said lifting her out of her chair. When he kissed her again it was with absolute passion. “That is because I’m married to an amazing woman,” he told her before guided her toward their bedroom.
* * *
When Chelsea walked into the house, she immediately checked to see if Elle had been home. Finding Elle’s room eerily untouched, Chelsea walked towards the kitchen, her heart heavy. She remembered Mrs. Sheridan and how worried she would be, so she phoned her to tell her about reporting Elle’s continued absence to the police. Hearing the fear in her voice only intensified Chelsea’s anxiety. She sighed, wondering what to do next.
She considered dinner but the thought turned her stomach, so she went upstairs instead. She sat out on the balcony and thought about Elle. This only agitated her all over again recalling that detective and his lack of … anything! He was sexy though, and those eyes, so enticing. He definitely sent her heart fluttering. His rude and unsympathetic manner, on the other hand, was inexcusable. First thing in the morning, she would go back to the station and make someone listen to her this time.
Worry consumed her as she remembered happy times with Elle. Chelsea prayed her disappearance was like all the other times when she’d spontaneously spent days with a man or stayed with a friend. Doubts undermined her fervent attempts to believe in every positive scenario. Chelsea couldn’t remember Elle being without her handbag and phone during any of those absences. Hot tears crept down her face as she tried to push aside her worst fear, that Elle was gone forever.
Oh Elle where are you?
* * *
It’s now time for her to say goodbye to her life. Nothing personal, Blondie, but I need to make it perfect.
Will she fight like Libby or will she accept it like Kate? She is feisty this one so I guess she’ll fight to the end.
* * *
As I thought, she fought death. She kicked and hit out as far as her restraints would allow until she gurgled her last breath. I know this one will hurt her and she will understand loss. Just like my loss.
She wi
ll soon know what it’s like to have nothing, like I had nothing. She would never have known what it was like to wear old dirty clothes that were too small and have everyone laugh. To understand how it feels to eat little and always be alone. To have a father who hates you and a mother who left you. What it’s like to live in the worst house, in the worst neighbourhood.
She never had to do anything for what she had. No, not Daddy’s Princess.
I cannot wait to see her blood flow but I have to wait, more to rehearse on yet. I can hear the next one now in the other room. She’s awake and calling for help. There is no-one here to help you, Lindsay.
Now I need to take Blondie to her final resting place. When I come back, I’ll have to start on you, Lindsay. Listen to your first screams and see how much of a fighter you are. Scream all you want, just like the others because no-one can hear.
Ah, there she is sitting out on the balcony. Is she wondering about her friend? Well she is watching the night sky now too just like you but unlike you, Blondie’s eyes are sightless forever.
Chapter 8
Gone
Thursday
The sound of the phone woke Lucas from another restless night. He bolted upright and rubbed his eyes before grabbing the phone.
Oh shit, what now? “Hudson.”
“Well he lives.”
“Morning, Carrie. It is morning, isn’t it?” he grumbled, picturing his sister on the other end of the phone, her auburn chin-length curls bobbing as she spoke, the same hazel eyes as his own filled with concern.
“Yes, grumpy, it’s just after seven. I haven’t heard from you for a week and was wondering if you were still with us.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“All work and no play, little brother.”
“Yeah I know but this case has been tough and we’re getting nowhere fast.”
“Are you ok? I saw the news and was wondering—“