Lost Child: A Gripping Psychological Thriller

by D. S. Butler

  Marjorie picked up her own cup of tea with a shaking hand and turned to me. “You know her, Beth. Dawn could never have done something like that.”

  I was getting sick of her assumption I knew Dawn and that we’d been friends at some point. We hadn’t. I’d once felt sorry for her, tried to reach out and it hadn’t worked out well. That was all.

  “Actually, Mrs Parsons, I really don’t know Dawn very well, at all. We were at school together, but we weren’t friends. She was a bully.”

  Mrs Parsons’s face paled, and her eyes widened. “A bully? No, you’ve got that wrong. Dawn was never a bully. She was the one who got bullied. She would cry herself to sleep because of what they did to her at school.”

  “I’m not saying Dawn didn’t get bullied. She did, but she was no angel. I stopped to speak to her on the way back from school once. I was only eleven and about half the size of Dawn, and do you know what she did when I tried to be friendly?”

  Marjorie shook her head.

  “She shoved me into the brook. And then she left me there. That’s what I know about Dawn, Mrs Parsons.”

  With a smothered sob, Marjorie sunk down into an armchair and then put a hand over her eyes, as though she wanted to block out the truth. Maybe I’d gone too far. But if we convinced Marjorie her daughter wasn’t a sweet, hard done by victim, she might be willing to help us.

  “You never told me that,” Mum said, turning to face me.

  “It was a long time ago. Look,” I said, trying to keep my voice even and calm, “Dawn wasn’t perfect, but none of us are. Maybe she made a mistake. We need to know how she was involved in Jenna’s disappearance. Was she helping someone? Did she just happen to stumble across someone snatching Jenna and…” I trailed off, not really sure where I was going with this. Had Dawn known who had taken Jenna all this time? Had she snatched Jenna herself?

  “Dawn isn’t perfect, but I know she would never have harmed so much as a hair on Jenna’s head. Dawn is a kind-hearted girl. I’m sorry she did that to you when you were just children. But that isn’t her typical behaviour. She’s a good girl. She visits old Mrs Taverne two days a week and helps with her cleaning and ironing. She even does her shopping, and she doesn’t get paid. She does it because she wants to help.”

  I looked down at my untouched tea. Where did we go from here? Marjorie wasn’t prepared to accept Dawn’s involvement, and any moment now she could ask us to leave.

  “Tell me about Dawn,” I said. “Which friends has she kept in contact with? Did her behaviour suddenly change two years ago?”

  Mrs Parsons thought for a moment and then shook her head. “She’s been getting more isolated over the past few years, but I didn’t notice any change in her that I could pinpoint to the time Jenna went missing. She has a hard time making friends, and she lost her last job just after Jenna went missing, I think.”

  “Any boyfriends? Did you ever suspect she was sneaking off to see anyone?”

  Mrs Parsons shook her head. “No, she preferred to stay at home. We watch the soaps together in the evenings. Occasionally, she’d go out on one of her walks.”

  “Where did she go on these walks?”

  “Oh, I’m not sure exactly. She stayed local, though. She got one of those little gadgets that measure how many steps you do in a day. She used it to monitor her progress on the computer. In fact, her route will probably be on there. She showed me once and…” Mrs Parsons’s voice trailed off as she turned her head to look for the computer and saw the empty space on the desk in the corner of the room.

  I nodded slowly thinking things over. What if Dawn had discovered something on one of these walks? Could she have seen Jenna here in Woodstock?

  “Maybe Dawn was trying to help. Her sending the photograph of Jenna to Beth could have been her attempt to help,” Mum suggested.

  Marjorie nodded frantically. “Yes, that must be it. She must have stumbled across something and didn’t know what to do. She wouldn’t have been a part of taking Jenna. I’m sure of that.”

  No matter how convinced Marjorie was, I was going to reserve judgement. Could Dawn have seen Jenna near Robin Vaughan’s house? But why would no one else have seen her?

  “Did Dawn ever make any trips to London?” I hated myself for asking the question. Deep down, I didn’t want to believe Luke’s brother was involved, but I had to ask.

  Marjorie shook her head. “No, why do you ask that?”

  Mum watched me quizzically.

  I picked up my cup of tea, even though I had a lump in my throat which made it hard to swallow. I took a sip and listened while Mum asked Marjorie Parsons more questions. But we went round and round in circles before we finally had to admit defeat.

  Marjorie Parsons didn’t hold any answers. At least, not the ones we needed.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Mum went to bed, but I knew there would be no point in me trying to do the same. I couldn’t sleep with all this hanging over me. I curled up on the sofa with the television on, the sound turned down low, and stared at the screen, not paying any attention to the film flickering over the screen.

  At two AM, I heard a creak on the stairs and sat up. I was cold, and from where I’d been curled up on the sofa, my neck and back felt stiff.

  Mum shuffled into the front room and gave a little start when she saw me.

  “You couldn’t sleep either?” I asked.

  “It seems to be getting quite a habit,” Mum said. “I needed a glass of water. Do you want one?”

  I shook my head but stood up and stretched and then followed her into the kitchen. “What do we do if Dawn doesn’t talk?”

  “She has to. Eventually. I just hope it won’t be too late.”

  Mum didn’t say too late for what. She didn’t need to. In the pit of my stomach, I had a horrible, sinking feeling that had grown in intensity over the past few hours. Maybe we were already too late.

  Whatever role Dawn had played in Jenna’s disappearance, I found it hard to believe she was the mastermind.

  Mum turned on the tap and filled her glass. “Did you tell anyone about the photograph of Jenna?”

  I frowned, not quite following the change in conversation. My mind was fuzzy from lack of sleep. “No, of course not.”

  Mum took a sip of water and then set the glass down on the draining board. “I think Daniel must have told Pippa. He promised he wouldn’t tell anyone.”

  “Well, that’s not surprising. We know Daniel doesn’t have a very good moral compass.” My words were vindictive, covering a layer of guilt. I ran a hand through my hair. “Actually, I did tell someone about the photograph. Sorry. I should have mentioned it sooner.”

  Mum’s eyes widened as she looked at me. “Why, Beth? Who did you tell?”

  “It was only Luke. I’m sure he won’t tell anybody. It was after I’d made that scene with his brother. I felt I owed him an explanation and… Well, I told him about the photograph so he would understand.”

  Mum sighed. “The problem is we can’t be certain he hasn’t told anybody else.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. My gut reaction told me that Luke would keep my secret, especially one so important, but as far as Mum was concerned, I’d gone against my word.

  “You’re right. I shouldn’t have told him. I was shaken up by the whole situation with Phil. I just wanted him to understand.”

  “I know, love.”

  We hadn’t bothered to switch on the light in the kitchen. The full moon illuminated the kitchen without any need for artificial light.

  “What do we do if Dawn doesn’t talk?” Mum asked.

  “She will,” I replied with more conviction than I felt.

  Mum refilled her glass with water, said goodnight and went back to bed. The sofa wasn’t comfortable enough for me to spend all night on it, so I went to bed, too, fully expecting to lie awake for hours.

  I lay on my back, interlaced my fingers and rested them my stomach. I closed my eyes and tried to recall every moment of th
e day Jenna went missing, focusing especially on where Dawn had been. I’d seen her at the face-painting station, but when Jenna went missing, Dawn had disappeared, too. Where had she gone? She told the police she went to get something from the car… But had she? Or had she been part of a plan to snatch Jenna?

  I tried to concentrate and remember every little detail, but for some reason, my mind kept returning to the exchange between Daniel and Kate just before I had taken Jenna to the bouncy castle.

  There had been tension between them, and I’d meant to ask Kate about it later when I got to speak to her alone, but after Jenna had gone missing, we had no time for anything else.

  Had Kate suspected something was going on between Daniel and Pippa? Had Daniel and Pippa started their affair before Kate’s death? Or even before Jenna went missing?

  Whatever it was, something had been bothering Kate, and I puzzled over what could have been worrying her. Fragments of that day floated through my mind in no discernible order, and after a while, frustrated, I reached over for my mobile phone and illuminated the screen to check the time.

  It was then I saw I’d missed a text message.

  I sat bolt upright in bed and opened the message. It was from Marjorie Parsons.

  She’d sent it earlier in the evening. Why hadn’t I checked my phone earlier?

  She’d sent it at eleven thirty. Hours ago.

  I quickly read the message:

  I thought of something else to tell you about Dawn. It’s nothing urgent. Give me a call or come over tomorrow and I’ll explain. Marjorie.

  I considered phoning her straightaway, but it was now three AM.

  I got out of bed and walked down the hallway towards the stairs. The window on the landing was the only one that looked out onto the lane. From there, I could see the front of Marjorie Parsons’s cottage.

  I opened the window to get a better view, and the cold night air, fragranced with Wisteria blossoms, made me shiver. As I’d expected there were no lights on in the Parsons’s cottage. Of course, Marjorie had probably been tucked up in bed for hours.

  I was going to have to wait until tomorrow to talk to her. In any event, she probably just wanted to tell me something inconsequential in an attempt to persuade me that Dawn was a good person. I couldn’t blame her for that. In fact, I admired her loyalty to Dawn.

  If the police couldn’t get anything from Dawn during their questioning tomorrow, then perhaps we could rely on Marjorie to persuade Dawn to tell us whatever she knew.

  I was about to shut the window when I saw a movement along the lane. A figure was standing outside Marjorie Parsons’s house.

  I froze, staring. Although the moon was bright tonight, I couldn’t make out who it was from this distance. It looked like a male figure, but I couldn’t say for sure.

  The pubs and restaurants were all long shut. This was a quiet, residential lane and only led to more houses.

  I was immediately suspicious. Were they simply out for a walk? Perhaps they were suffering from insomnia, like me. But why had they stopped walking and lingered beside the Parsons’s cottage?

  After a moment or two, the figure started walking again, away from the cottage and towards our house.

  I took in a sharp breath and pulled the window shut, trying to be quiet. The glint of moonlight must have reflected on the glass and made the figure look up. Although I couldn’t see their face, I was sure they were looking directly at me.

  I stayed motionless. Logically, that was the sensible thing to do. But I hadn’t stayed still because I was sensible. I was frozen with fear. There was something about the shadowy figure that felt very wrong.

  I finally started to breathe normally again when the figure carried on walking. I didn’t dare move, though. It seemed to take ages for the figure to walk past the beech trees, and when he did, I gasped.

  The branches no longer obscured his face, and the moonlight clearly illuminated his features. It was Daniel. Daniel Creswell.

  I hugged my arms around my body and waited for him to carry on walking. I half-expected him to walk up to our gate, but he passed by without stopping.

  I stood there for a moment, my heart thudding in my chest as I tried to think of a feasible explanation for why he would be walking along the lane at this time of night. He didn’t even live in Woodstock anymore. He lived in Oxford.

  Had he been visiting Pippa? If so, why had he been walking down Rectory Lane? Pippa’s house was on the High Street. I would have liked to think it was because he was frantic with worry over his daughter. Had he been drawn to the Parsons’s house, looking for answers?

  My legs felt shaky as I walked downstairs to my bedroom. Unable to rid myself of the unsettled feeling, I climbed back into bed. I knew Daniel was awake. I could call him and ask why he was wandering about at this time of night.

  Maybe there was a logical explanation. The situation was getting more and more complicated, and I had no idea who to trust.

  I’d never liked Daniel, and I liked him even less after I found out he had cheated my mother financially. But I’d never once doubted his love for Jenna, and I’d never seriously considered the possibility he had something to do with her disappearance.

  Various memories flashed through my mind as I remembered Daniel being short tempered with Jenna on a few occasions. It was never anything physical, but what if he’d lost his temper, just once, and hurt her?

  I put my hands over my face and groaned. That couldn’t have happened. Jenna was in a public place when she went missing. There were too many confusing threads to this mystery, and I felt like I was going around and around in circles.

  I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to take a sleeping tablet tonight because I wanted to be awake early tomorrow morning. A groggy head was the last thing I wanted if Dawn decided to make a full confession. Yes, that was unlikely, but I couldn’t help hoping.

  I would have to wait until tomorrow morning to find out what Marjorie wanted to tell me about Dawn. I turned over in bed and stared up at the ceiling, willing the time to pass quickly.

  All I could do was pray tomorrow would deliver the answers we’d been waiting two years for.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  I woke at seven AM the next morning, feeling terrible, and headed straight for the bathroom to take a shower. After I had dressed, I walked into the kitchen, with my hair still wet, yawning.

  Mum was already there, sitting at the table. “Coffee?”

  I nodded. “I’ll get it.”

  I picked up her cup and got a mug out of the cupboard for myself. Lifting the filter coffee jug, I poured us both a generous serving.

  “I’m going to see Marjorie Parsons this morning,” I said, glancing at Mum over my shoulder. “She sent me a text message last night, but I didn’t see it until the early hours. She said she wanted to tell me something about Dawn.”

  “Really? I’ll come with you.”

  I shook my head after I took a sip of my hot coffee, burning my tongue. “It’s better if you stay here, in case the police call with news. I’m sure Marjorie just wants to tell me about another one of Dawn’s good deeds and try to persuade me her daughter is a good person deep down.”

  Mum’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. “It can’t be easy for Marjorie, but surely she must accept Dawn knows something. Otherwise, she would never have had the photograph.”

  I nodded. “We should try to keep Marjorie on side. If the police don’t have any luck with Dawn, her mother might be able to persuade her to tell us what she knows.”

  “If anyone could do it, I suppose Marjorie could, but right now, she doesn’t believe Dawn could be involved.”

  I shrugged, took another sip of my coffee and then set it down on the counter. “Marjorie always gets up early, doesn’t she?”

  “Yes, she’s an early riser. She told me she hasn’t slept later than six AM in years. She always volunteers for the early shift if we need to do something for the Woodstock Women’s group.”

  “Ri
ght,” I said, leaning over to give Mum a quick squeeze. “I’ll go now. I won’t be long, and I’ll probably be back before the police telephone to give us an update on Dawn’s interview.”

  I left Mum in the kitchen and headed for Marjorie’s house. As I approached the thatched cottage, I shivered, remembering Daniel lingering there last night. I decided to ask him about it later.

  There were no lights on in the cottage, but it was a bright, sunny morning so that wasn’t unusual. I rang the doorbell, stepped back and waited.

  No response.

  Marjorie’s car was in the driveway, so she hadn’t gone out. I tried again, keeping my finger pressed against the bell a little longer this time.

  When I still didn’t get an answer, I took a couple of steps back so I could see the upstairs windows. One set of curtains were closed. Was that Marjorie’s bedroom?

  She was supposed to be an early riser. Typical. Today of all days, Marjorie had chosen to sleep in.

  I had her telephone number from the text message, so I pulled out my mobile phone and dialled. It rang and rang and then cut through to an answering service.

  Frustrated, I hung up and then peered through the letterbox.

  “Marjorie! Are you there? It’s me, Beth. I hope I’m not too early.”

  I straightened up and waited, but still got no response.

  A few moments later, I peered through the letterbox again and saw Thomas the tabby cat strolling towards me.

  “Where’s your owner?”

  I got a meow in response.

  I tried the bell again. Just when I was about to give up, I heard a car behind me.

  I turned to see a marked police vehicle parking at the side of the lane. They hadn’t parked in Marjorie’s driveway but had parked outside her house.

  Two uniformed officers exited the vehicle. Both male, one about a foot taller than the other.

  The taller of the two officers spoke first. “Can I help you, Madam?”