by Adele Abbott
I parked the car in a layby two miles away, and then made my way on foot. There was a keen frost which meant the ground was hard rather than muddy. By a little after four o’clock I was settled in a hollow beneath the roots of an ancient tree. I remembered it from my childhood—it had been one of my favourite hiding places when Kathy and me played hide and seek. From there I had an almost unrestricted view of the drop point which was below the bridge.
By six o’clock, my hands, toes, nose and ears were all numb with cold. I’d heard a few sounds—twigs cracking—that kind of thing. It could have been the police or it could just have been small animals. I heard the 4x4’s engine when it was still some distance away. Two minutes later, it came to a halt under the bridge. Bob Dale climbed out, walked around to the passenger side, and took out a small, brown sports bag. After depositing the bag next to the wall, he got back into the vehicle and drove away. The whole thing took less than five minutes.
For the next hour, I never took my eyes off the bag. By the end of the second hour my legs were beginning to cramp, and it was becoming harder and harder to stay focussed. What was I doing there anyway? What exactly had I expected to achieve? When the kidnapper showed up the police would arrest him. Or should that be if the kidnapper showed up? Where was he?
Each hour dragged by more slowly than the one before. I was hungry and thirsty, and colder than I’d ever been. I must have started to nod off because I jumped at the sound of car engines. Two police vehicles pulled up close to the bridge. A uniformed officer got out of one of them, collected the bag, and then both vehicles were driven away. The drop-off must have been a bust. Maybe the kidnapper had spotted the police—who knew? Right then, I didn’t much care—I just wanted to get home to a hot bath. I gave it another twenty minutes, and then climbed out of my hiding place. By the time I got back to my car and drove home, it would be almost midday.
I never saw or heard him coming. The first thing I knew was when I was flat on my chest with my arms behind my back.
“You’re nicked,” the police officer said, as he clamped the handcuffs on my wrists.
Before I knew it, another three officers had me surrounded. Two of them lifted me to my feet and dragged me to their car which was parked at the top of the embankment.
If I hadn’t been so tired, I would probably have used magic to escape, but my brain was barely functioning and it was all I could do to stay awake.
***
The metal bench in the holding cell wasn’t the most comfortable bed I’ve ever had, but it didn’t stop me falling into a deep sleep.
“You never listen, do you?”
The words skipped around in my dream.
“Wake up!”
I opened one eye to see two legs inches from my face.
“What? Where am I?”
“Sit up!” Someone grabbed my hand and lifted me into a sitting position.
“Jack?”
“Detective Maxwell to you.”
My brain kicked into gear and I remembered where I was and why. This wasn’t good.
“What were you doing there?”
“Watching the drop.”
“I know that, but I want to know why? I told you in no uncertain terms not to get involved.”
“No one saw me.”
“How can you know that? It’s my guess the kidnapper did see you, and that’s why he did a runner.”
“He couldn’t have. I was—”
“Save it for someone who cares. In fact, save it for the Banks family. You can tell your sorry story to them if anything happens to their daughter.” With that he turned and walked out of the cell.
“Jack, wait!”
But he’d gone. A uniformed officer escorted me out of the police station.
Was Maxwell right? Could the kidnapper have spotted me? I’d been super careful, and arrived hours before the drop. But what if he’d already been there? What if he had seen me? What if something happened to Amanda Banks? Maxwell was right—I was an idiot. Why had I taken the case? The truth was I’d done it because I was annoyed at Maxwell for warning me off. It hadn’t been about Steve Lister or Amanda Banks. It had been all about me and my stupid pride. If anything happened to Amanda, I’d never forgive myself. And Jack Maxwell wouldn’t—that was for sure.
***
I collected my car from the layby, and then drove home. A hot bath and a change of clothes did nothing to lighten my mood. I’d messed up big time, and I had no idea how to put it right. The one thing I could do—had to do—was to tell Steve and Bob I could no longer work on the case. I’d done enough damage—I had to quit before it was too late—if it wasn’t already.
I was about to leave the flat when my phone rang. It was Bob Dale. I braced myself for the tongue-lashing I knew I deserved.
“Jill, it’s Bob.”
“Bob, I’m sorry—”
“Listen. There were two notes.”
“What?”
“The kidnapper left two ransom notes. Dexter was told to pass one to me, but not to mention the other one to anyone. While the police were watching my drop, Dexter made the real drop miles away.”
“When did you find out?”
“Just now—Patty told me. She and Dexter are worried because the note said they’d get Amanda back within three hours, but there’s still no sign of her.”
“Do the police know?”
“They do now. Dexter told them about half an hour ago.”
“Was the money collected?”
“Yes. Dexter went back to check. It was gone.” Bob hesitated, and I could hear his voice waver. “What do you think this means? Is she dead?”
“No.” I had no idea, but what else was I meant to say? “They’ve got their money. They have no reason to kill her.”
“Who says they need a reason?”
I knew he was thinking about the Camberley case.
“What do we do now, Jill?”
We? I’d intended telling him I was no longer on the case, but how could I do that now? He was barely clinging on as it was.
“I’m not sure. Hopefully Amanda will turn up. In the meantime, I’ll keep trying to find her.”
“You’ll let me know if you come up with anything?”
“Of course.”
I should have felt relieved. The drop-off point had never been the bridge, so I couldn’t have spooked the kidnapper. That seemed insignificant now. Where was Amanda, and why hadn’t they released her now they had the money? I feared the worst.
***
I needed to clear my head; a trip to Candlefield was called for. The twins were busy in Cuppy C. Judging by the number of customers in the shop, their marketing push seemed to have done the trick. I gave them both a wave on my way up to my room.
“Barry? Where are you boy? Barry?”
It was unusual for him not to come running as soon as he heard my footsteps on the stairs. Maybe he was at Aunt Lucy’s?
I was about to turn around and make my way over there when I spotted a handwritten note which had been left on my bedside cabinet. The note said Barry was at the BoundBall clubhouse. There was no name on the note to indicate who’d written it. Why would Barry be at the clubhouse, and who’d left the note?
I’d been to the clubhouse before when I’d helped to find the missing Candlefield Cup. The clubhouse was now shared by the vampire, werewolf and wizard teams. I tried the door, and discovered it was unlocked. As soon as I turned the handle, I could hear barking.
“Barry!” I held out my arms and braced myself as he threw himself at me. “How are you boy?”
Only then did I realise Barry wasn’t alone. Another dog was standing a few yards away. His tail was wagging, but his ears were down as though he was unsure about me.
“Come here boy.”
That was all the invitation he needed to approach me. I recognised him now. It was Chief, Drake Tyson’s dog. I checked his collar tag just to be certain. Sure enough it read ‘Chief’.
What was going on?
Just then the door behind me opened, and in walked a familiar figure.
“Drake?”
“Jill?”
“This is not funny!” I yelled at him. “I was scared to death when I saw the note. If you’d wanted to see me, you should—”
“Hold on! I had nothing to do with this.”
“Do you expect me to believe that?”
“Yes I do because it happens to be the truth. I found this in my hallway this morning.” He held up a note that bore the same message as the one left for me. “What’s going on?”
I shook my head, but I had a feeling I knew precisely what was going on. The twins had been quizzing me about Drake, and had tried to persuade me to get in touch with him. It looked to me like they’d decided to take matters into their own hands to orchestrate this meeting.
“It’s nice to see you again.” He smiled. Oh how I’d missed that smile.
“Yeah. Nice to see you too.” I stared down at my feet. “I think I owe you an apology.”
“No apology necessary.”
I looked up, and met his gaze. “I should have given you an opportunity to tell your side of the story. I jumped to conclusions, and I shouldn’t have done that.”
“I guess you heard about my spell in prison?”
I nodded. “It was only when Raven explained what—”
“Hold on. You’ve spoken to my brother?”
“Yes. He caught up with me in the street and explained what had happened.”
“When?”
“I don’t remember exactly. Not long ago.”
“Where?”
“Near the market place. Why?”
“I haven’t seen him for weeks. He’s disappeared, and I’m worried about him.”
“I’m sorry, I had no idea or I would have let you know.”
“It’s okay. At least I know he was okay when you saw him.”
“I could help you to find him if you like?”
“It’s okay. It’s my problem.”
“I’d like to help. It would make me feel better about—you know.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Chapter 12
“But, we’re busy, Jill,” Pearl protested.
“Yeah, there’s a queue in the tea room,” Amber said.
I ignored their objections, and dragged them out of the shop, upstairs and into my room.
“What did you two think you were playing at?” I said.
They both looked at me with the same puzzled expression.
“Don’t play innocent.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Pearl said.
“Me neither.”
“I’m talking about this.” I held up the handwritten note.
“What is it?”
“As if you don’t know.”
“Let us see.”
I handed the note to Pearl. The two of them read it.
“We didn’t do this,” Pearl said.
“Yeah, that isn’t our handwriting.”
The twins were hopeless liars, so I knew they were telling the truth.
“I’m sorry. I was so sure it was you two. Then who was it?”
They both shrugged.
“Did you find Barry?” Amber asked.
“Yeah, he’s fine. I dropped him off at Aunt Lucy’s. Look, I’m sorry. I really thought you two had done this to try to get me and Drake back together.”
“It’s okay,” Amber said. “I wish we had thought of doing something like that. How did it go? Did you kiss and make up?”
“There was no kissing involved.”
“Pity.” Pearl smiled.
“We did make up though. Or at least I apologised. I’ve agreed to help him search for his brother.”
The twins hurried back down to the shop. I stared at the note. If it wasn’t Drake, and it wasn’t the twins, who was it?
***
I almost didn’t recognise him when I got out of my car.
“What do you think?” Mr Ivers did a twirl for me.
“You look—great.” And the weird thing was—I wasn’t lying. I felt even worse now about having wrongly accused the twins. They’d done an incredible job on Mr Ivers. His hair was shorter and suited him much better. But it was the clothes which made the man. He looked liked he’d recently finished a fashion shoot for one of the more hip men’s retailers. If he wasn’t such a bore, I’d have fancied him myself.
“Please thank Amber and Pearl for me. They were great.”
“I will.”
“They have boyfriends, I guess?”
“They’re both engaged.”
“Pity. Still, now I have my own newspaper column and my new look, the girls should come flocking.”
“Yeah, you’ll have to fight them off.” Or talk to them about movies for half an hour—that would do the trick.
***
The next morning, I sold my soul once again by buying a copy of the Bugle. I was hoping for news on the kidnapping, but there was nothing—not even a mention. At this stage, no news was probably bad news. I called Steve and Bob. Neither of them had heard anything. Bob did tell me Dexter was losing patience with the police, and had threatened to employ a P.I. himself. That would have gone down well with Maxwell. Speaking of whom, I wasn’t sure if I should try to contact him. I felt like I should apologise for the other day, but what was the point? As soon as he knew I was still working the case, he wouldn’t want to hear it. Perhaps it was best to let sleeping dogs lie.
***
Donald Hook was sitting next to Mrs V.
“Morning Mrs V, morning—Don—ald.”
Mrs V glared at me. Donald barely acknowledged me. He was too busy working his way through the pile of brochures on Mrs V’s desk.
“Look at this swimming pool, Annabel. Spectacular isn’t it. And at that price, they’re practically giving it away.”
“It looks lovely, Donald, but isn’t it rather hot there though. My skin burns so easily.”
“That’s what sun block is for silly.”
I didn’t like the way this was going, but I had a plan.
“Let me see,” I said, as I walked around the desk. “I’m not sure the weather would suit you there, Mrs V.”
Donald turned his head and gave me a look. I’m not sure he appreciated my contribution, but that was okay because while he was busy being annoyed, he didn’t notice me slip a small tracking device into his pocket.
“Why don’t we go down the road for coffee, Annabel?” Donald began to gather up the brochures.
“Oh, alright. Is that okay, Jill?”
“Sure. Knock yourselves out.”
Mrs V and The Captain had no sooner left than the hammering started.
“What’s that?” Winky looked up from his smartphone. He’d been preoccupied since Bella had bought it for him. I wasn’t sure what he was up to exactly—probably FelineSocial and Angry Birds. Still, it made a change from listening to him complaining.
“Can’t you make them stop?” he said. “It’s giving me a headache.”
He had a point. There was an almighty racket coming from somewhere outside. It sounded as though someone was hitting the wall with a sledgehammer.
“I’ll go and check it out.”
“Hurry up.” Winky sighed. “I can feel a migraine coming on.”
The scaffolding tower was directly in front of the building. A small crane was parked at the roadside, and was in the process of lifting a huge sign up to the men waiting at the top of the tower. I had to twist my neck to get a good view of the sign as it was being lifted into place: Armitage, Armitage, Armitage & Poole.
“Hold on!” I shouted to the men in the tower.
One of the men shrugged. He obviously couldn’t hear me, so I ran back in the building, up the stairs and over to the window in my office.
“Oh, hello,” the man in the tower said. He was directly below my window. “I couldn’t hear you before.”
“Where exactly are you fixing that?”
I shouted.
“Keep it down,” Winky said.
“Be quiet! I’m trying to sort it out.”
“What?” The man looked puzzled.
“Not you, sorry. I was talking to—never mind. Where are you going to fix that sign?”
“Right here.” He pointed to the wall in front of him.
“But it will obscure my little sign.”
The man glanced at my sign, which was minuscule by comparison, and gave a shrug.
“That’s our orders, sorry. You’ll have to take it up with—” He read the sign. “One of the Armitage triplets.”
Just what I needed—a comedian. “Don’t worry. I will.”
Gordon Armitage had a corner office the size of a football field.
“You didn’t need to expand next door,” I said. “You could have just moved the additional staff in here with you.”
“Good morning to you too, Jill. My P.A. didn’t tell me you were here.”
“I told her not to bother. I didn’t want you to suddenly remember an urgent appointment elsewhere.”
“What’s so important that you had to see me right now? Have you decided to move out after all? I knew you’d see sense eventually.”
“What do you think you’re playing at with that sign?”
“I thought I heard drilling. Right on time—that’s what I like to see.”
“You can’t put it there.”
“I think you’ll find I can.”
“It’s too big. It obscures mine.”
“Really? Well that’s unfortunate, but I have to say—I don’t care.”
“I’ll take you to court.”
He laughed. “Oh, Jill you’re so funny. Have you forgotten what it is we do here? I’ll give you a clue—we’re lawyers. Please do take us to court. I’ll tie you up in so much paperwork and red tape you won’t have any time left to do whatever it is you do.” He laughed again—louder this time. I was so tempted to turn him into a donkey or a piglet or—but I couldn’t. I’d have to find another way to beat him.
Mrs V arrived back at the office just over an hour later.