by A. S. French
‘I thought about it a lot after Gran died and I was on my own. I’d dreamed about having a sister or brother, and as I got older, with only Gran around, getting married and having kids seemed the best way for me to make sure I was never alone. Plus, all the other girls in school were always talking about having children, so it felt natural for me to feel the same.’
‘Society expects us to become mothers.’
‘I’ve never felt that outside influences are pressurising me. Some women don’t feel maternal, there’s no control over that, but it kicked in for me as I got older.’ She peered out of the window, staring at the adults arriving for their kids. ‘But this job isn’t conducive for meeting the right person or for raising children.’ She glanced at herself in the mirror. ‘I’m probably getting too old for it anyway.’
Astrid laughed. ‘How old are you?’
‘I’m thirty this year.’
‘Plenty of people become parents into their thirties and beyond. You’ve got loads of time.’
‘What about you? Do you have any kids?’
‘No. I guess I’m one of those people with no interest in becoming a parent, but I do have a niece I’m trying to get close to.’
Grace didn’t reply, nodding towards the school where a portly security guard was marching to the front.
Inside her head, Astrid was back at school, listening to her sister telling her how all the other kids hated her and how even the teachers disliked her. Not for the first time, she worried about Courtney guiding Olivia through her childhood. Her concern for her niece only increased her determination to find Alex Sanchez as soon as possible.
To find her before it was too late.
If it wasn’t already.
7 Seventeen
Astrid stuck her fingers into her ears as the bell signalling the end of the school day shrieked.
‘I always hated going home after school.’
Her father wouldn’t be there when she got in, but it only added to her stress having to wait for him. And then there was Courtney tormenting her with those comments her sister practised to perfection. She stopped looking at her mother for help once the smell of alcohol became Gloria Snow’s favourite perfume.
Grace pursed her lips. ‘Most kids hate school. I did.’
Astrid observed her partner struggle to get comfortable in the car. ‘Did you get a lot of grief because of your height?’
Students filtered out of the building.
‘Yeah, it was a constant deluge of name-calling, as much from the teachers as the children. I think the adults thought they were funny, but the kids went straight for the jugular.’ She gazed out of the window. ‘It prepared me for working in the police, so I can’t complain. I guess you were the most popular girl in school.’
Astrid detected a hint of sorrow in Grace’s voice.
‘No, I was a loner, but I loved learning, and it kept me from my family.’ Astrid stepped out of the car, Grace following her. ‘Do you know what this kid looks like?’
Astrid’s mobile vibrated as the throng escaping into the world increased in front of them.
‘I’ve sent you the photo,’ Grace said as she watched the kids.
Astrid peered at the image on her phone, staring at a portrait of an average-looking teenage girl with a face covered in mascara and lipstick purple enough to have been stolen from Prince’s cosmetic bag.
‘Hey, Tall Paul, whatcha doing ere?’
A gang of girls gravitated towards Grace, pointing and giggling at her. ‘Lanky Skanky,’ they shouted in unison. The school security did nothing while the teachers slithered back into the building. Astrid searched for any sight of Beth Sharp as Grace showed the kids her police badge. It elicited a mixture of responses, from bemused stares to WE DON’T GIVE A FUCK glares.
The mouthiest of the girls strode up, flaming red hair, flaring her perfect teeth and flicking her fake eyelashes.
‘Couldn’t they get a uniform to fit ya, Giraffe?’
She tried to hide her reaction, but Astrid saw Grace cringe at that word.
‘Do any of you know where Beth Sharp is?’
The ruby-headed girl stood with her hip jutted to the side, one arm draped across her body, clasping the elbow opposite. Her head lolled down to her shoulder, casting her long hair on to the faded Diana Ross t-shirt which clung to her like a second skin.
‘We don’t talk to the cops, even giant ones.’
The girl gang burst out into fits of laughter, exhibiting teenage angst and bravado. Astrid moved to Grace’s side and scrutinised the red-headed ringleader, a delinquent already in the making with eyes like burnt cigarettes. Astrid was about to say something when she spotted Sharp leaving the school and moving down the steps. She had kohl-encircled eyes sunk into deathly pale cheeks, hair bursting from her skull, and was dressed entirely in black.
The mouthy red-headed girl saw her too. ‘Run, Beth; a pig and a giraffe are coming for ya.’
The mob started whooping and hollering a combination of animal noises. Sharp twisted her head to the side, gazing straight at Grace. She was off and running before Astrid could react. The kid pushed through the crowd as the rest of the school joined in with the carnival atmosphere.
The last thing Astrid wanted was to run after a teenage girl, but she set off anyway. Grace surprised her again, not so much a giraffe in her movements, but travelling as fast as a gazelle. She parted the teenagers, about to lay her hands on Sharp when the kid took a quick turn around the corner and, unable to halt her momentum, Grace stumbled into a woman walking her dogs. When Astrid reached them, the dog-walker stood cursing the police officer who was trying to make her excuses.
She helped Grace up as the disgruntled animal lover skulked away. ‘Did you see where she went?’
If Sharp had slipped into the shadows, she’d be impossible to find. Grace dusted herself down and nodded beyond Astrid.
‘She ducked into the first building on the right down that street. They used to be apartments, but the place was condemned six months ago.’
‘Okay, partner, let’s see if we can locate her.’
Astrid moved out, with Grace hobbling behind her as they approached the dilapidated concrete. The door was hanging off its hinges, the wind pushing it back and forward, so it creaked worse than Grace’s knees. Astrid made her way in, with no concerns for her safety, finding a corridor draped in debris, rat shit and dust. A set of metallic boxes covered in rust, unused post boxes for twenty apartments, clung to the wall on her left. Beyond them were a broken elevator and stairs. Damp covered everything, and the building stank of a year’s worth of garbage.
‘You won’t need that,’ Astrid said as Grace reached for her weapon. ‘Not for this kid; she’s scared of her own shadow.’
They moved up the first flight, curious eyes checking every nook and cranny for signs of danger.
‘Five flights with ten apartments on each floor, from what I remember,’ said Grace. ‘You want to search through fifty places and all the corridors and maintenance rooms? We’ll be here all day.’
‘This should be enough; unless she can stick to walls like Spider-man.’
Astrid pointed to the space where the stairs should have been, which was only a black hole. They inched towards it, staring up at the inaccessible floors above them.
‘I guess that’s one of the reasons they condemned the building,’ Grace said. ‘You want to go through each room together?’
‘No, that’ll take too long. You check the five on the right; I’ll do the ones opposite.’
She was inside the first apartment before Grace replied. A quick analysis told her it was three rooms: the main one with a small kitchen, then the bathroom and bedroom. The furniture was cracked and broken, a moth-eaten sofa sitting in the middle of the room as if someone had tried to drag it outside and given up halfway through. Paint peeled off the walls, and flies circled everything; it stank of damp and rotten vegetables. The kid wasn’t there; neither was she in the other rooms.
Astrid
stepped out of the flat as Grace exited the one opposite, shaking their heads at each other. They got the same results from the following three apartments on each side. Two rooms left, and if the kid wasn’t there, she must have grown wings.
Apartment Five had a similar layout as the others, filled with the identical stink of garbage and dirty feet. Astrid didn’t have to check the rooms: Beth Sharp sat with her back to the far wall, knees pulled up to her chest, eyes shrunk into her head. She was scared, but it wasn’t of Astrid.
Astrid relaxed her shoulders and lowered her tone. ‘Who’s threatened you, Beth?’ The girl shivered and tried to crawl even further into her skin. Her jaw quivered, her mouth opened, but no sounds came out. She lifted a hand to her face, and it trembled as she wiped at her eyes. ‘You can trust me, kid; I’m not here to hurt you.’
Astrid hadn’t moved, standing a few feet away. Sharp dropped her arms to her side, her tremors subsiding but always present.
‘They punish kids like me.’
The words crawled out of her mouth, terror vibrating off every syllable.
‘I want to help you, Beth. But you’ll have to help me to do that.’
She bent her knees to get down to the girl’s eye level. Beth may have been seventeen, but she seemed a lot younger crouched amongst the shadows and the debris of the building. It was cold, but sweat slithered from her forehead and into her eyes. Astrid removed a tissue from her pocket and handed it to the girl. Beth took it in her shivering fingers and wiped at her brow.
‘Thanks.’
Her voice trembled. Astrid questioned if she should leave her alone until she overcame her fear, and then remembered Alex probably wouldn’t last long if someone had abducted her and she was still alive.
‘Is this connected to Alex Sanchez’s disappearance, Beth?’
She nodded. ‘Yes.’
Astrid pushed on. ‘How did you get her to go to the compound?’
There was a noise in the corridor, but Astrid didn’t take her eyes from the girl.
‘Glen wanted her there, said she needed punishing. Alex needed to expose them for what they are, for what they’re doing, so I said I’d get her inside.’ She lifted her trembling fingers to her mouth and bit her nails. ‘Glen and I grew up as neighbours, and we used to, you know, go out together.’ She chewed on one finger until there was no nail left. ‘And it’s my fault what happened to her.’
Something deep inside Astrid wanted to take hold of the kid and tell her not to worry, that it wasn’t her fault, that everything would be okay. But she was incapable of breaking through the emotional wall she’d constructed around herself for so many years.
‘Okay, let’s get you out of here.’ There was another loud bang from the corridor. Astrid turned to the door, for the first time noticing the sleeping bag behind it and the opened food tins and fresh rubbish. ‘Have you been staying here, Beth?’
She thought the kid was going to strip the flesh from her fingers as she pushed her hands further between those shivering lips.
Beth nodded. ‘Yes.’
All those years living on the streets flashed through Astrid’s head. ‘Why?’
She took her fingers from her mouth and wiped her eyes. ‘It’s safer here sometimes. I can’t trust my dad.’
Astrid stared at Beth and saw herself reflected in the kid, remembered the fists and the belt and all the other objects he hit her with. She rubbed at the bruise on the back of her neck and the cut on her face, new injuries to replace the old ones. There were others on her body, acquired long after she’d left her family behind, and each one of those told a tale of triumph over adversity, but it was the scars from her childhood which she could never erase.
She was fighting off those memories when the voices came from the other side of the door.
‘Little piggy, little piggy, let us in, or we’ll blow the house down.’
Astrid scanned the room for a weapon as Beth sank so far into the sofa she nearly disappeared into it. The door swung open, and three blokes swaggered inside: bundles of toxic masculinity clutching onto baseball bats. Behind them in the corridor, Grace was out cold on the floor.
‘You’ve assaulted a police officer.’ Astrid flexed her fingers. The back of her skull throbbed, and she imagined the cut on her cheek leaking warm blood down her face.
‘You can’t believe how difficult it was to reach up and give her a little love tap on the head.’ The middle one spoke, his arms and chest puffed out as a sign of leadership. She guessed all of them to be in their mid-twenties and of low IQ. Apart from the leader. He scanned the room for other bodies, his gaze darting around as if he’d done this before and was calculating for logistics and danger. ‘Give us the girl.’
Astrid stared at him. ‘Was it a dishonourable discharge?’
His eyes shrank to pinpricks, but it didn’t camouflage the hate vibrating inside him. ‘What?’
‘Did you get a dishonourable discharge from the military? I wasn’t talking about one of your nightly emissions from that.’
She pointed at his groin. His two companions hovered at his sides, bats twitching in their hands. Astrid noticed their jerky movements even though she focused on him. When they’d entered the apartment, she’d moved from opposite Beth to behind the end of the sofa. Now they couldn’t jump her together, which was why she knew they’d have to come at her from either side.
His grimace turned into a grin. ‘You need to give us the girl, English; then we’ll leave you alone.’
‘Beth must be important for you to attack a police officer.’
The girl buried her head into a cushion at the sound of her name.
‘You’ve got it all wrong, English; we saw you drag her here, so we followed you in. The cop was already on the floor when we arrived to rescue her from you.’
As he spoke, the other two inched their way around the sides. Astrid had to work out which one would be the quicker. She moved to her left, close to the kitchen and the utensils that had gathered rust for months.
‘So, that’s how you’re going to try and explain this when I beat the three of you senseless?’
She observed the movement of his eyes and the tiny flick of the head to his attack dogs. It was quick, but not as speedy as her as she sprang to her left and grabbed the grease-stained frying pan from the counter. She brought it around in one swing and smashed the baseball bat from the thug’s hand; it went flying through the air and landed over the sofa. As it sailed across the room, she thrust her knee into his groin, following through to crack against his chin as he tumbled down.
As he hit the ground, she turned to meet the goon coming from the other side; he was big, but he wasn’t fast. She put her free hand into the top of the couch, pushed up and leapt over the cowering girl below. Astrid landed and grabbed the discarded club before the attacker and his leader could react. She threw the wood with precision, catching the second thug between the eyes before he could change direction. Bat and skull cracked as one, sending out a long howl from the man as he grasped at his head. He collapsed and joined his compatriot in a heap.
Astrid peered at the leader. ‘It’s just us now.’
He glanced down at his fallen compatriots, and then stared at her. ‘I survived Afghanistan and Iraq.’ His glare cut through Astrid. ‘I don’t need anyone else to deal with you.’
He climbed onto the end of the sofa, towering above the timid girl below who tried to find safety behind a dirty cushion. Astrid backed away from him, towards the window. She couldn’t endanger the girl. In the doorway, Grace’s legs twitched.
‘Why do you want Beth?’ she said to him. ‘She didn’t tell us anything.’
His perfect white teeth shone brighter than a shooting star. ‘I’m just protecting America from foreign degenerates like you.’
He strode across the sofa, his feet moving past Beth as she squeezed into the frame of the furniture. Astrid had her back against the cold of the glass, watching him stride towards her. If he moved to the right, he co
uld squeeze the life from the trembling girl’s throat. Astrid couldn’t do anything until he got off that couch.
He reached the end, one foot on it, the other next to Beth’s face.
‘What are you waiting for, Mr Dishonourable Discharge?’
He launched himself at her, foot aimed at her guts, hand swinging down towards her head. She ducked, his shoe missing her hair by inches. She rolled on to the floor underneath him and bounced off the sofa. As he landed and fell into the window, she had her arm around his neck and was pulling on his throat. He was taller and stronger than her, but she had leverage, and a calmer mind. Astrid pressed against the back of his knee as she dragged harder against his neck. His hands flailed at his sides, trying to grab at her and failing. He gasped and choked as she squeezed the life from him.
‘Let me go, you English bitch.’
‘Are you sure they didn’t kick you out of the military because you’re useless?’
He struggled, but it was no use. He couldn’t get an advantage as oxygen seeped from his lungs.
‘Are you going to kill him?’ The girl was off the sofa and staring at Astrid.
‘Do you want me to?’
‘Not while I’m watching.’ Grace had recovered and was standing behind her.
Astrid gave one last squeeze and dropped him to the floor when he was unconscious.
She turned to Grace. ‘How much of that did you see?’
Grace rubbed at the back of her head. ‘Enough to know never to get on the wrong side of you.’
Beth Sharp shivered on the sofa as Astrid held out her hand. ‘You’re safe now, kid.’
The girl took Astrid’s help and got off the couch, trembling as she looked at the thugs sprawled on the floor. ‘Thank you.’
Astrid let go and turned to Grace. ‘Are you going to arrest these three?’
Grace strode past her and flipped the thug leader over and on to his back with her foot. She let out a long sigh. ‘This will open up a whole can of worms.’ She restrained the bloke.
‘How come?’
‘Because, my new English friend, this is Jed Fowler, nephew to the esteemed Senator Bob Brady.’