by M A Comley
“May I ask why?”
“Because the way she was ranting and raving, damn, I thought we were heading for the divorce courts, that’s why!”
“And she hasn’t fallen out with anyone else recently?”
“No. To be fair, she’s been uber-busy, six days a week.”
“She’s totally committed to her work, is that what you’re telling me?”
“Yes and no. To the work fifty percent but also saving for this damn holiday. Her motto is, work hard and play harder. Except not in this country, not with the foul weather we usually get.”
Sara smiled, understanding his wife’s point of view completely, although she much preferred to take her chances in this country, exploring what the UK had to offer.
“Can you give us a recent photo of your wife, sir?”
He stood and searched for his phone in his jeans pocket, scrolled through it and handed it to Sara. On it was the picture of a beautiful blonde woman with sparkling, bright-green eyes.
“That’s perfect. Would you mind sending it to my phone?” She gave him the number, and within seconds her phone pinged, informing her she’d been sent a text message. Sara checked the image had arrived with the text and nodded. “Excellent. We can get the photo circulated as soon as we get back to the station.”
The doorbell rang. Alex excused himself and rushed out of the room to answer it. Voices mumbled in the hallway for a few moments, then the door opened to reveal an older man and woman standing behind Alex.
“These are Jennifer’s parents, Josie and Les Warren. They’ve come to see if there has been any progress. I told them you’ve not long arrived.”
Sara stood and shook the newcomers’ hands. “Pleased to meet you both. I’m DI Sara Ramsey, and this is my partner, DS Carla Jameson.”
Josie stared at Sara’s hand before shaking it. “What are you doing about our daughter’s disappearance? We’ve all been out of our minds with worry since Saturday. I may be speaking out of turn—if I am, please don’t hold it against us—but I think it’s appalling it’s taken you so long to get here.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way. We’re issued with strict guidelines we need to follow. It’s frowned upon by those at headquarters if we don’t adhere to them.”
Josie tutted and shook her head. “Sick, that’s what it is, when someone’s life could be in danger.”
Smile still intact, Sara said, “I couldn’t agree more. We’re here now. I want to assure you all that you’ve got the best team in the area handling your daughter’s case. If she’s out there, we’ll find her.”
“If she’s out there?” Mr Warren challenged, his brow furrowed either in anger or frustration, Sara couldn’t tell which.
Sara refused to be cornered by him. Instead, she nodded and told them all, “Right, if there’s nothing further anyone wishes to add, we should be on our way.”
“I’ve got plenty I want to add,” Mrs Warren blustered.
Sara noticed the weary expression exchange between Alex and his father-in-law. She prepared herself for another barrage of insults.
Mrs Warren sucked in a large breath and crumpled before their eyes. Sara was the first to react. She led the woman to the sofa and eased her onto it.
“I’m sorry. The thought of someone abducting my only child is… I haven’t slept since I heard the news. My mind is playing havoc, going over different scenarios. I can’t stop the strange and dangerous thoughts from rattling around in my head. I want my daughter back. Please, please, bring her home to us.”
Sara smiled and stroked the woman’s arm. “Obviously, I can’t make any promises but I can give you my assurance that we’ll do our very best to bring your daughter back to you. I know the delay hasn’t been acceptable to you, but take my word for it, it’s still very early days and you need to retain the hope in your heart.”
“I’m trying, I swear I am. Have there been any other cases such as this?”
“Nothing that has come to our attention in the last week or so.”
“Why? Why lead my daughter into a trap and kidnap her? What reason would anyone have to do that?”
Sara smiled and sighed. “That’s what we need to find out if that’s what even happened. When was the last time you spoke to Jennifer?”
“Friday evening.”
“How did she seem to you?”
“The same as usual. Although I did detect a note of weariness in her voice. I pleaded with her to take the weekend off, but she refused. She’s an utter professional. Told me she had no intention of letting her clients down just because she needed some time off. She’d have her break in a few weeks when she could afford to book a last-minute holiday. If only she hadn’t accepted that last appointment.”
“I know. We’re going to do our very best to track down the person she was due to meet. We must be prepared that the person might be innocent and that something could have possibly happened to her en route to the rendezvous, though, again, it’s something we’re going to need to look into.”
“I don’t think that thought has occurred to either of us, has it, Les?”
“In truth, I don’t know what to think. No, wait, here’s my thought on it: I don’t think we should hold the officers up, they have a job to do, out there; they won’t find Jennifer sitting around here, will they?”
“Hush now, Les, don’t be so bloody rude,” Mrs Warren chastised her husband and then cradled Sara’s hand in her own. “Ignore him, he’s always been an impatient bugger from the day I kept him waiting half an hour at the church on our wedding day.”
Her husband grunted and threw himself into the easy chair beside him.
“Actually, your husband is correct. If there’s nothing else you can tell us, it would be better if we made a move. Set the investigation rolling.” She released her hand from the woman’s and stood.
Carla followed her to the door.
“Here’s my card.” Sara offered it to Alex. “Ring me if you think of anything else we haven’t covered here today.”
“I’ll show you out.”
“Goodbye, Mr and Mrs Warren.”
“Goodbye, do your best for us,” Mrs Warren shouted.
“We will,” Sara called over her shoulder.
Alex rolled his eyes as he wished them good luck at the front door. “At least you get to leave. I’m bound to have them here for a good few hours yet.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sure their hearts are in the right place,” Sara assured him.
“I know. Do what you can to bring Jen home to me, I’m begging you.”
“I promise. I’ll be in touch soon, hopefully.”
Sara and Carla left the quaint cottage and hopped back in the car. Carla let out a long breath.
“And breathe,” she muttered. “I thought we’d have to listen to her banging on for an hour or more. I was willing you to take the plunge and leave.”
“Glad I didn’t disappoint you then, partner. Give her some slack, put yourself in her shoes. Hey, come to that, I think I reacted in the same way when you were bloody abducted last month. Despite your experience with criminals, I still feared for your life. Imagine what they must be going through.”
“That’s shot me down in flames. Thanks for that.”
Sara punched her partner in the thigh. “Don’t go getting all mardy on me.”
“I’m not. And if it’s all the same to you, I’ve been doing my best not to dwell on my abduction. Therefore, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t keep referring to it all the time.”
“All the time? Hardly, but your wish is my command. I’m sorry it’s still raw for you. Have you thought about extra counselling sessions? They might help in this instance.”
“No. I’d rather just forget about it and move on. I know having to deal with cases such as this is going to make that difficult at times, but if I have to go into battle every time a kidnapping case comes our way if that’s what this is, then that’s what I’ll have to do. Trust me, it’s harder than you realise.”
Sara twisted in her seat. “You know I’m here for you night and day, don’t you?”
A smile twitched at Carla’s lips. “I do. But I’m trying my very best to deal with the issue by myself and not get anyone else involved.”
“What about Gary? He’s supportive of your needs, isn’t he?”
Carla leaned back against the headrest. “Don’t start, Sara. Leave him out of this, okay?”
“Whoa! What? I only asked a simple question, and you snap my head off for it.”
“I didn’t, but that’s beside the point. I know how you feel about Gary. Every time his name is mentioned, don’t think I don’t notice your reaction.”
“All right, I admit it. I care what happens to you, love. Pardon me for looking out for a friend.”
Carla sighed, lowered her head and stared at the road. “Can we concentrate on the case instead of my troubled love life?”
“So you admit there’s something wrong with your relationship?”
“Leave it, Sara, it was a slip of the tongue, one I’d rather not elucidate on. Where to now?”
“If you insist. I repeat, I’m always here for you, no matter what. Back to the station.” Sara started the car and drove back into town.
Carla didn’t say another word on the trip. Sara sighed a few times, fearing that she’d overstepped the mark with her partner, not for the first time regarding her relationship with her waste-of-space boyfriend, whom she perceived played on his injuries to keep Carla onside.
Back at the station, Sara brought the rest of the team up to date with the information they had gathered about the missing person. “Therefore, we need to try and find this Jilly Smallcombe, the mystery client she was supposed to have met on Saturday evening. Use every conceivable database available to us. I want Jennifer found ASAP.”
“What about her car, boss?” Craig asked.
“I’ll leave that in your capable hands, Craig. If we can locate that it might give us some clue as to what happened to Jennifer. There again, it might not.”
“On it now.” Craig grinned.
Sara chuckled inside, his enthusiasm top notch as usual.
She left them to it. After an hour of Sara trawling through her dreaded post, she returned to catch up with the team. “Right, I know I’m expecting you all to have worked miracles in my absence, but let’s have it.”
A sea of blank faces glanced her way.
Christine was the first to offer anything. “I’ve checked the electoral roll for a Jilly Smallcombe, and our database just in case she had a record of sorts, and nothing. It’s as if she doesn’t exist.”
Sara perched her backside on the desk nearest to her, folded one arm and placed the forefinger of her right hand to the side of her face. “That’s news I wasn’t expecting to hear. So where does that leave us? Craig, what about the car?”
He shook his head. “I’ve issued an alert on the vehicle. We could be waiting days to hear back, boss.”
“Not good. So, if her name doesn’t exist, what does that tell us? That she intentionally led Jennifer into a trap? It seems plausible to me, but why? And more to the point, what the hell has she done with Jennifer? Could she be holding her somewhere?”
Carla let out an exasperated sigh. “If she’s still alive. What if she was intentionally set up by this woman so that she could kill Jennifer?”
“Again, it’s something we need to consider. Until we find something worth latching on to, we’re stumped. Craig, keep on top of the car situation, I think that’s going to be pivotal. Also, can you see if the ANPR system picked up Jennifer’s car at any time on Saturday evening?”
“I’ll see what I can find. I might need someone to lend me a hand, boss.”
“You’ve got it. Will, can you oblige?”
Will left his chair and pulled up the nearest one next to Craig, and they put their heads down.
Sara stared long and hard at the details on the whiteboard, trying to figure out what they were missing. “Premeditated, that’s my assumption, but why? According to Alex, her husband, Jennifer is a character who, well, she’s hard to describe really. I suppose professional would be out there in front, although he did say she wasn’t an easy person to live with. That doesn’t give someone the right to kidnap her, though, but think about things logically, it might spark something. Could she have irritated someone to the extent that they might want to punish her for it? There again, I could be talking out of my arse. Probably the latter, but what else do we have to go on at this stage? Nothing.”
“The investigation has only just started, it’s a bit harsh to say we don’t have anything right now,” Carla suggested.
“I know, but it also happens to be the truth.” Frustration was already kicking Sara’s backside on this one. “Why would someone kidnap a hairdresser? It’s not like she can be used to obtain valuable information. They’re not rich, at least they don’t appear to be.”
“Umm… wait, didn’t Alex say she trained to be a solicitor?”
Sara nodded. “That’s right. Carla, do some digging into that side of things for me. Good shout. It seems the more likely possibility to me.”
The more she mulled over the idea, the more Sara thought her partner was right.
2
Libby paced the corridor, every so often peering through the spyhole in the cell housing Jennifer. Her usually hard exterior crumbling before Libby’s eyes. Jennifer likely heard her footsteps approach the door, but Libby tortured her further by ignoring Jennifer’s pleas for help.
She’d recently fed her prisoner a bowl of porridge, more than she deserved. But Jennifer had refused the food. Now the bowl lay on the floor before her, the porridge a stodgy clump at her feet.
“Please, please, why are you doing this? Who are you? Do I know you? What have I ever done to you to deserve to be treated like an animal? To be caged up like this? Show yourself, let’s discuss the rights and wrongs of this situation. I know you don’t want to hurt me, not really, otherwise you would have done it by now. Please, let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone you’ve kept me here. My poor husband will be beside himself with worry. Don’t let him suffer. I love him. He needs me. He’s not capable of looking after himself, he never has been. Please, let me go home and care for him, like a wife should.”
Libby closed her eyes to block out Jennifer’s incessant moaning, pleading and pathetic questions. But her eyes flew open when she heard the final sentence of Jennifer’s plea. How dare she use that as an excuse to let her go? How fucking dare she go down that route? She wouldn’t have a clue what it was like… she might think she knows, but she knows fuck all about the sacrifices concerned. You’re going to suffer for saying that, missus. You’re a pathetic human being, a selfish individual who prefers to hear the sound of her own voice rather than listen to other people’s pleas for help. A wicked, no, evil bitch who revels in destroying people’s lives. Who used to take pleasure in punishing those perceived weaker than herself. Well, I’ve got news for you, bitch, this biatch is no longer weak and unable to defend herself. You’ll find out soon enough what I have planned for you and the others, but first I need to gather the rest of them.
She glanced at her watch. It was nearly ten-thirty, time to make a move. She knew her second target would be finishing her shift soon, and the pub where she worked was on the other side of town, giving Libby barely enough time to get there.
Libby took one final look through the cell door at Jennifer, banged on the door to get her attention and whispered, “Fear not, little one, you’ll have company very soon.”
“Who’s there? Please, you have to let me go. What do you mean by that? Who are you?”
Libby tipped back her head and laughed her way up the wide corridor. She secured the door to the storage unit behind her and jumped into her car. She drove fast but ensured she kept below the speed limit, to avoid being picked up by any police cars in town as she passed through the city centre and out the other side. She pulled up outside the pu
b with five minutes to spare, at eleven-twenty-five, aware that Smith would exit at eleven-thirty on the dot, as usual. Libby parked next to the barmaid’s vehicle in the corner of the car park. She switched off her lights and hunkered down in her seat until a rowdy drunk was kicked out of the pub and staggered her way.
Fuck off, you drunken git. Go on, bugger off home to your faithful, obliging wife that you’ll probably maul in bed tonight, whilst dribbling and farting. I bet you even fall asleep while you’re poking her one, and it won’t be the last time either. Yuck, why do women put up with men who down gallons of booze? How can most folk afford to get that drunk, what with the price of beer and spirits nowadays? Go on, fuck off, get out of my sight before Smith comes out. You’ve got precisely two minutes, arsehole. Now shift your frigging self. Or I’ll be forced to take you out. Yes, that’s what I’ll do, kill him if he doesn’t move on quickly.
The drunk straightened up and scanned the area all around him. Libby sensed he was about to do something uncivilised right in front of her damn car. She waited and watched. He fiddled with the zip on his jeans and dropped his trousers. She groaned inwardly. If the bastard didn’t complete his shit soon, she was going to miss the opportunity to grab Smith.
Fuck off! Do one, you cruddy individual.
He must have heard her. Somehow, he managed to right himself and pull up his jeans. He let out a large belch and scampered out of the car park, probably feeling ten pounds lighter, judging by what he’d unloaded in front of her car.