Lost Girls

by K Leitch

  Carla swore under her breath and waited anxiously while Michelle went off to make the call; she came back a few minutes later with a worried frown on her face.

  ‘I couldn’t get through,’ she said to Carla, ‘it just kept going to voice mail…they can’t have gone too far though I wouldn’t have thought….’

  ‘Where did they say they were going?’ Carla interrupted much more urgently this time.

  Michelle looked a bit startled at Carla abruptness. ‘Oh…I didn’t ask, they may have gone down towards the lake or through the woods. They’ll be quite restricted by the wheelchair though I suppose, so I expect they’ll just stay on the path….’

  ‘You mean they could be here…in the grounds?’ said Carla exasperated, getting out her phone.

  The nurse looked at Carla as if she was mad, ‘Of course they’re in the grounds, where did you think they were?’ she said, she didn’t get a reply because Carla was already out of the door and heading for the exit.

  Carla got Frank on the phone. ‘Frank I think I might have found the Sheenans, I am going after them…no don’t worry I’m just going to follow them but I need you to get me some back up as soon as possible. I’m at Hope Lodge, Mandy has the address. I think they’ve taken Agnes out for a walk on the grounds, I can’t imagine they are planning to kill her here but you never know. Anyhow they can’t have gone too far, the old lady is in a wheelchair and the staff here are expecting them back, so I’m hoping I’ll catch sight of them soon enough….look stop worrying I’m not going to do anything stupid, I just need to keep an eye on them. OK, OK, just get me my back up, and stop worrying.’ She ended the call and concentrated on looking all around her for any signs of the couple.

  The grounds attached to the home were vast; they included a lake, a wood, and a formal garden laid to lawn as well as meadows, some of which had been rented to local farmers for grazing. The fine day had given way to a damp evening and as Carla walked, what had started as drizzle began to turn into heavier rain. Carla pulled her thin jacket around her and squinted through the rain hoping to catch sight of them. She kept to the paths for most of the way, but soon the path she had taken divided into two. One of the paths carried on down towards the lake, the other seemed to be one that was used mainly by the staff, it led to a couple of large out buildings which had been set in amongst the woods so that they couldn’t be seen from the house, Carla took that path.

  There were three storage sheds and a large barn at the end of the path, the place was dark, deserted and eerily quiet. Carla crept over to the sheds and carefully peered in through the windows. There wasn’t much to see in the first two buildings, they were filled with boxes of supplies and gardening equipment as you would expect, but as Carla got closer to the third building she could hear voices.

  She sank down close to the ground as she crept under the window on the side of the shed. The voices were louder now, raised angry voices, there seemed to be an argument going on.

  Hardly daring to breathe, Carla slowly pulled herself up so that she could look through the little window.

  Inside were three people, an elderly lady sitting in her wheelchair, Agnes Cray presumably. She seemed quite content, amused even at the argument that the other two were having. The ‘voices’ Carla had heard was in fact only one voice. Rebecca Sheenan was furious about something; she was walking backwards and forwards across the shed, gesticulating madly as she shouted at John who was watching her every move and signing back at her furiously. Carla recognised the British Sign Language for the deaf; she had done a brief course on it when she had first joined the force years ago. Unfortunately the two siblings were signing so fast at each other that she had difficulty following what was being said. She gathered from what Rebecca was shouting though, that John was getting cold feet about killing Agnes, she recognised the sign for ‘enough’ which he was saying over and over.

  ‘It is not over until we do this John,’ Rebecca was shouting at him. ‘Don’t you see that? Once she’s dead we’ve fulfilled all that Una asked of us, we will have made them pay, all of them.’ She stopped pacing and knelt down in front of where John was sitting.

  ‘Try not to think of her as a harmless, mad old lady John; remember what she was… the cold and callus woman, that turned her back while your mother was being tortured and raped… and not just your mother, what about Missy and Kathy and Bella… all lost…disappeared…she is guilty John, as much as that animal Jonas, she is just as guilty.’

  Carla could see from his shaking shoulders that John was crying now. He kept on pleading with Rebecca but as Carla watched she saw Rebecca’s eyes take on a hard implacable look, she shook her head at her brother in disgust and disappointment.

  ‘This has all been for you Johnny,’ she hissed at him. ‘Everything I’ve done… everything I do…you know that don’t you. The years we suffered… and her…Una, you read what she wrote; you know what they did to her…to you.’ Her voice grew softer and she spoke slowly so that he could follow, ‘No one took any notice, no one…it’s up to us, it always has been hasn’t it… my love.’ John hung his head at her words but Rebecca held his head up again and determinedly looked into his eyes.

  Carla could see that John was weakening, Rebecca was winning this argument; Carla looked round anxiously to see where Agnes was in relation to the door of the shed. Once her back up team got here, she would need to know so that they could get her out of there without any harm coming to her. As slowly as she could and desperately trying not to attract any attention to herself, she shifted her position, just slightly, to get a better look.

  Quick as a flash, Rebecca’s head jerked upwards and she looked over her brother’s head… her eyes met Carla’s.

  Carla gasped in panic and clambered down from her position next to the shed. There was a roar of anger from inside just before Rebecca came storming out, John hard on her heels. Completely panicked, Carla turned and ran as fast as she could away from the shed, plunging into the pitch black of the trees that surrounded it. She ran tripping and stumbling and gasping for breath, her feet slipping and sliding all over the place in the muddy ground, made slick by the rain which continued to fall in a steady stream. She was running blindly, having almost no light with which to guide her. Slamming into huge tree trunks that loomed up in front of her she forced her way through the branches and the bracken, oblivious to the scratches and bruises on her hands and arms… she could feel them gaining on her every moment…closer and closer. Her lungs were screaming and her heart was pumping but she pushed through the pain, looking round desperately as she ran, for a way back to the house. In her panic she had completely lost the path and seemed with every footstep to be running deeper and deeper into the thick woods that surrounded the house.

  Suddenly she noticed lights, twinkling through the trees; she was almost there…almost there! With renewed energy she raced towards them, she could see a sort of clearing in the trees up ahead, Carla could hear John gaining on her, his hard breathing and heavy footsteps were very close now… she ran towards the clearing…she had to make it to the house…she had to!

  Abruptly Carla let out a shriek and came to a halt. Panting for breath, she clung onto a tree trunk with relief as she looked down at the large hole in the ground that she had almost fallen into.

  She stared down into the hole, ‘Oh God…oh God,’ Carla gasped in renewed panic, as her eyes took in the newly dug earth and the muddy shovel leaning against a tree just beyond it…it was a grave…oh God, it was a grave!

  A movement, right on the periphery of her vision… hot breath on the back of her neck… just before something hard smashed into the side of her head…she dropped like a stone into the open grave.

  John Sheenan wailed in misery as he looked down at Carla’s lifeless body in the muddy grave beneath his feet.

  Despite the rain and mud he could clearly see blood oozing out of the large wound on the side of her skull.

  He put his hand over his mouth to stop himself from retchi
ng, ‘What have I done now…I didn’t mean to hit her so hard, I really didn’t… but she had seen the hole and she had known it for what it was…and who it was for. She was the police for Christ’s sake…where she came others would follow.’ John put his head in his hands as he realised the ramifications of his actions. ‘I had to stop her,’ he said to himself, ‘shut her up…oh God,’ as a new horror reared its ugly head, ‘is she dead…what if she’s not dead? Oh fuck…oh God… I have to see if she is dead.’

  Whimpering and shaking he slithered down into the muddy grave and put a tentative hand on Carla’s neck…a pulse…very faint…she was alive…but not for long.

  Carla’s eyes flicked open for a second everything was black…black and cold… then nothing.

  The next fleeting moment of consciousness, she became aware of someone next to her, she couldn’t open her eyes but she could hear ragged breathing and whimpering sounds…she tried to move…to open her eyes…call out… it was like she was floating… she could do nothing to stop the sweeping blackness as it came over her again.

  Something wet and cold was thrown onto her face, she could smell wetness…earthy wetness…more and more on her legs her body…she needed to open her eyes…help…I’m here, help..HELP ME…HELP ME… she was screaming in her head, screaming over and over.

  Her eyes opened and she saw the sky for a second before more wet stuff landed on her face, she could taste it…in her mouth, earth…it was earth, in her eyes, all over her…please help… must move…no strength, can’t move…help…please help…nothing, wave after wave of blackness.

  No sky now, wet dripping into her eyes and nose…hands over face…hands over face…NO, NO NO…please not this, please anything but this. How will they find me…James…James…my babies.

  CHAPTER 65

  ‘Keep out of sight; if they’ve got the old woman in there we don’t want to spook them,’ Frank whispered to Sam and Midge as they took their positions around the storage shed in the woods.

  Just as Carla had, Frank, Sam and Midge had followed the path leading to the sheds and now, like her, they too could hear raised voices coming from the third shed.

  Frank edged over to the window and looked in. He could see Rebecca and John Sheenan, who seemed to be having a heated argument, and he could see Agnes Cray bound and gagged in her wheelchair. There didn’t seem to be any sign of Carla though, maybe she had taken the other path, or maybe she was laying low just as they were. There was a team of armed officers on their way so all Frank had to do for now was keep an eye on the situation until they arrived.

  From his position Frank could see that John Sheenan, who was gasping for breath and covered in muck, seemed to have gone into a complete panic meltdown. He was pacing up and down wringing his hands and moaning trying to articulate, pointing at Agnes and signing furiously to Rebecca.

  Rebecca shoved him hard, and pulled his face towards her again. ‘GET A GRIP JOHN!’ she shouted, ‘WE FINISH THIS NOW!’ John continued to protest as best he could by signing and making strange noises and it was obvious even to Frank, who didn’t understand the signing, that he was trying to persuade his sister to cut their losses and get away.

  ‘NO JOHN!’ Rebecca finally shouted at him, looking him straight in the eye. ‘I’ve told you we finish what we’ve started and we’re not going to let anyone get in our way. She chose her fate by coming here, by following us; she was one of them John… the police. The same police that didn’t listen to Jacob or your mum, that let a monster get away scot free while she…while Una suffered, and then you….’ She wiped an angry tear from her eye, ‘She was as guilty as the rest of them John, she deserved to die…and so does this pathetic creature.’

  Frank slumped down under the shed window, his heart beating frantically. Who were they talking about…who deserved to die because she’d followed them…not Carla…no it couldn’t be… could it? He looked through the window again; Rebecca had pulled out a large roll of plastic sheeting and was spreading it over the floor. Frank had seen and heard enough, there wasn’t time to wait for the armed police team. He signalled to Sam and Midge to take their places on either side of the shed door and after a silent count of three, he kicked open the door and rushed in, followed by Sam and Midge.

  Taken completely by surprise, Rebecca and John looked at them in amazement for a couple of seconds before Rebecca made a lunge for the door. Sam caught her before she got there and despite her frantic struggles managed to get some handcuffs on her. John was a different kettle of fish though and he fought hard, it took both Frank and Midge a while to subdue him and not before he had got in a few good punches, Midge’s mouth was bleeding and Frank’s face was swelling up. Frank wasn’t aware of his injuries, however, he was far too worried about what had happened to Carla.

  He slammed John up against the shed and held him there by his throat. ‘Where is she?’ he asked furiously. John stared back at him, his eyes wild and shaking his head in denial.

  ‘You’re lying,’ Frank hissed tightening his grip, ‘I know she’s been here, where is she? What the fuck have you done to her?’ Frank shouted again, his anger boiling over, he felt like he wanted to beat the crap out of this fucking moron until he told them what he needed to know.

  Sam put a hand on his arm, ‘Frank…Frank, calm down mate,’ he said pulling Frank away.

  ‘I know they’ve done something to her,’ Frank was saying furiously, ‘I heard them, before we went in, I heard them talking…’ he turned round to John again and pointed a finger in his face.

  ‘If you’ve hurt her I will make you pay you fucking sick bastard….’

  John began to cry and shake his head again; he kept looking over at Rebecca who staring hard at him with a look in her eye that promised dreadful retribution if he said anything. John turned his head away from her though…he had had enough, done enough… with a last pleading look back at her, he pulled on Frank’s arm to get his attention.

  ‘JOHN!’ Rebecca shouted at him, ‘you keep your mouth shut, d’you here me….’

  John ignored her and continued to try and make himself understood by Frank, by forming strange words in his throat and gesturing to the woods.

  ‘What‘s all that about?’ Frank said impatiently, trying to follow him ‘What…she’s in the woods? Where in the woods?’

  John hung his head, and nodded over towards a muddy shovel that was propped up against the side of the shed.

  Frank followed his gaze; he took in John’s filthy muddy clothes and the thick mud on his hands and face, he stared at the shovel for a couple of seconds before its terrible implications became clear. Then he grabbed it and started shouting. ‘Oh my God…oh no no no you fucking buried her…you sick fuck!’ he screamed. Furiously, he grabbed John by the arm and almost threw him out of the shed; following behind him he started pushing him towards the trees. ‘You had better find her…and you had better find her alive…come on move…move cunt,’ he shouted as John stumbled ahead of him. Sam followed as they ran along the same path that Carla had taken earlier. They ran without thought as they crashed into trees and slipped on the mud, a desperate feeling of urgency and panic filled them as they ran, giving them the speed they needed. All around them they could see the evidence of an earlier chase, broken branches and flattened bracken, Carla had been running for her life. Thoughts kept running over and over through Frank’s mind, how long had she been down there, how much time had they wasted grappling with Rebecca and John while she’d been frantically trying to dig her way out, he couldn’t imagine her terror as she slowly suffocated under the sodden ground…it had been too long, they’d taken too long….

  Suddenly John slowed down, they had come upon a clearing in the trees and in the centre was a recently filled in patch of land.

  With a howl of fury, Frank threw himself onto the muddy ground and started digging. He looked up at Sam who was staring at him in horror. ‘Don’t just stand there you stupid cunt, start digging….’

  Sam didn’t need tel
ling twice, and soon both of them were up to their armpits in wet sticky mud.

  John meanwhile had slumped down next to a tree. He knew what was down there and he didn’t want to think what would happen to him once these men found her.

  ‘Carla…Carla…we’re here, we’re going to get you out…Carla,’ Frank continued to shout as he dug frantically with his hands. The earth was wet and hadn’t settled so it wasn’t long before Frank felt something like material he clung onto it and pulled, a muddy jacket sleeve came into view.

  ‘That’s it! Carla, we’ve got you…hang on…we’ve got you,’ he shouted excitedly as he began to reveal more and more of her, working his way up towards her face.

  Finally they could see all of her. Beneath the mud her skin was grey, she was limp and lifeless as they dragged her out of the grave, Frank checked for a pulse…nothing…no wait…yes there it was so faint he had almost missed it.

  ‘Hold on Carla…hold on love…you are not going to die,’ he said desperately, ‘you are not going to do this Carla…you are not going to die.’ He cleared her nose and mouth of mud and put her into position and began CPR, pressing down in rapid counts on her chest and then breathing into her mouth, every so often he would check her pulse.

  It seemed like it was a hopeless task, over and over Frank massaged her heart and breathed into her mouth but still she lay there…still and lifeless.

  ‘No no no no Carla,’ Frank shouted at her. ‘Come on you stupid cow…come on!’

  Sam, who had watched Frank’s desperate efforts with a heavy heart, was beginning to think that they were fighting a losing battle, when suddenly Carla took a huge gulp of air and started coughing and choking on all the crap that was inside her throat. Frank turned her onto her side as she violently threw up, rubbing her back and talking to her in a soothing voice, as she retched over and over, then he pulled her to him and cradled her in his arms. ‘That’s right…you’re OK now love…safe now…I’ve got you…’ he babbled, as hot tears streamed down his muddy face.