by Becca Lee
With the memory of her taste and her scent firmly locked into my senses, I hopped into my car and headed to Ella’s.
One of the good things about finishing a shift at this time was that it meant I went against the flow of rush-hour traffic. For a Monday, the chaos was expected, with a mountain of cars heading south while I headed north. The journey only took twenty minutes. Pulling up outside El’s, I immediately spotted Jo pacing the veranda. When she spotted me she froze, her face pale. She clutched her phone to her chest and worried on her bottom lip.
Something was wrong. It was rare I saw Jo stressed, and to be ghostly pale meant she was crazy-arse worried, too. I leaped out of my car, my seatbelt barely finishing retracting and jogged to the house. “What is it? What’s wrong? Where’s Ella?” I stood facing her and then headed indoors before she had the time to reply. “Ella?” I knew there was a chance she could be sleeping, but there was no way I was going to let that stop me. At that moment, I just needed to know she was fine, and that Jo’s concern was nothing to do with my woman. I knew it was wrong to hope Jo had had an argument or something with Liam, but my selfish need for Ella to be well was pushed to the forefront.
“She’s not here.” Jo’s voice was quiet and unsteady.
I stopped in my tracks, my hand on El’s bedroom doorhandle. I opened it anyway, only to find a made bed. I turned to face Jo and took several steps in her direction. From Jo’s physical reaction alone I knew some major shit had gone down. This wasn’t about Ella heading to the station by herself, or being stubborn and going out for a walk. This was something completely different. Something that had my stomach plummeting and my heart racing. I forced my jaw closed and felt the tight tick as I clenched it together. I knew if I spoke, I would end up shouting. I had no desire to shout at my sister, even though my body and heart compelled me to do so.
“She went out for a coffee.”
Those words should have sounded innocent. Six simple words, words with nothing sinister or unnatural attached to them. Yet Jo’s haunted look as she spoke them sent a bolt of fear up my spine. I indicated with my head for her to continue, still unable to be fully in control of my voice. Ella’s car was still in the driveway. Not that she’d be able to drive anyway; she’d be in too much pain if she tried.
“She left me this note.” I stepped closer to her and took the note from her outstretched arm.
Just popped out to get a coffee. Won’t be long.
Ben came ‘round to apologise. Won’t be any longer than twenty minutes.
I’ll pick you one up. :)
I hadn’t realised it was possible to feel an icy-cold sensation in my bones while feeling a hot rage flowing through my veins until that moment. The one word, “Ben,” seemed to pulsate off the paper. “How long ago did she leave?” I dreaded the answer.
Jo looked at the clock on the wall. “I finished my shower forty minutes ago. I was in there for maybe ten minutes, so anytime between then.”
Fuck. “Her mobile?” I made to reach for mine, which sat in my pocket.
“It’s here, along with her purse.”
“Damn, Jo, why didn’t you call me? Shit, this is bad, so fucking bad.”
“I didn’t know how long ago she’d left, so I waited twenty minutes, but then thought there must be a queue or something. Then I just thought you’d be mad, and I knew you’d be on your way home.” The roar of a bike pulled up outside the house. Liam. “I freaked, but didn’t know how much to freak, so I called Liam.”
A moment later, Liam stepped into El’s house. It felt wrong and alien to be here while she wasn’t. I looked across as Jo stepped into Liam’s arms, and found myself turning away, feeling a mixture of dread and envy as he leaned down and kissed her head.
“It’ll be okay, right?” Jo asked in a muffled voice, her face pressed against Liam’s chest.
Liam’s deep voice rumbled when he spoke. “Sure it will, baby. You know what she’s like. She likes to chat as much as you. She’s probably stayed to finish her coffee and will be back in no time.” He rubbed her back, comforting her.
It was total shit. There was no way she would stay out. She was a little anally retentive when it came to time-keeping. If she intended to be gone for no longer than twenty minutes, then she would be sure to keep that promise. I looked at Liam, a deep frown on his face, one I was sure mirrored my own. “We need to find her.”
Liam nodded once, kissed Jo and then told her to stay put with the phone. “You call me if you hear anything. Okay?” She nodded. “Preston?” He indicated with a curt nod outside, and I swiftly followed after giving Jo a kiss on her cheek. “Anything and you call me. You understand, right? This is serious, Jo.”
“I know. I got this. I’ll do some calling around; maybe call the local coffee houses.”
Outside, I headed toward Liam who was now sitting on his Ducati, helmet in his hand. “What’s the story?”
“It’s this Ben creep.” I raked my hands through my hair. “Shit, man, this is fucking serious. He’s been spreading bullshit at work about me, even got the police involved. Between that, his taking El out at Byron, and the lies he told her last week—”
Looking confused, Liam interrupted, “What was he saying to get the police involved? Damn, man, what the hell’s been happening over the last week?”
“He accused me of being responsible for the arson attacks that have been going on. I met with the police last night. I think they believe me—that it wasn’t me, that is. Also last week, he told El some bull crap about me screwing someone else. I have no idea what his game plan is, but he clearly doesn’t want El and me together. But now the police are involved ... I have no freakin’ clue.” I needed to go. Sharing all of the stupid crap that had gone down reignited the urgency I felt. I needed to get out there and find Ella. Now.
We briefly discussed which areas of town we’d search first. I’d already decided I’d give it an hour, and then I’d make a call to Detective Richards. The fact that she had left me a note held me back from making a call immediately.
We agreed to keep in touch the whole way, and check in at least every ten minutes. An ice-cold dread filled my stomach. I’d had several moments in my life when I’d felt the strangling grip of fear, but this was on a completely different level. I’d seen death. I’d faced true horror, not only with Sophie, but on at least fifteen separate occasions at work. It never got any easier, any better. But the fear of Ella being hurt, beyond that of a knock to the head in the ocean, made me want to tear, shout and rage.
There was only one clear thought in my mind at that point, a miracle in itself. I would do whatever it took to find El, and if there was a single hair damaged on her beautiful head beyond her current scrapes and wounds then Ben would be going down, and I didn’t give a shit about the consequences.
I jumped in my car and revved my engine, signalling to Liam before I headed east. I drove towards the beach; there were several places I knew where she liked to grab a coffee. Liam headed to hub of the town. The short drive was the longest of my life. I jumped out of my car when I parked at the north end of the beach. I couldn’t start running around aimlessly. I needed to keep my head together. I weaved in and out of the tourists and systematically headed into each coffee house, not even bothering to flash the picture I kept in my wallet. There was no point. With the tourist season in full swing, there was no chance anyone would remember her.
I knew she was remarkable, with her fiery-red hair cradling her lightly-tanned face, but to a stranger she would be simply another customer among two hundred. After my sixth coffee-shop or restaurant, I called Liam. He’d had no luck either, so he’d called in a few of his friends to help. For a guy with a standard, straight job, and a successful company, he had an interesting crew of contacts. Having some of them onboard wouldn’t be a bad thing.
Drawing closer to my hour deadline after continuing to the next group of businesses a short drive away, I knew it was no use. I needed to contact the police. I just hoped that by
going directly to Detective Richards, I wouldn’t get the brush-off and have to wait the standard twenty-four hour missing person period.
I pulled over to the side of the road, and let my car idle in neutral. I noticed I had several missed calls from Dani and a text letting me know I had voicemail. The last thing I wanted to do was worry her about Ella; no doubt she was calling to check up on Ella’s injuries. I would call her once Ella was safely in my arms. I punched in the number from the card he gave me, and on the third ring Detective Richards picked up.
“Richards speaking.”
“Detective, it’s Preston Craig. We spoke yesterday.”
“Yes, Preston. I remember. Have you got new information for me?”
My left hand gripped the steering wheel as I held my phone to my ear. “It’s Ella, my girlfriend, who I spoke about yesterday. She’s missing, with Ben. I think, damn, I know something’s not right.”
There was a pause on the line and I thought I heard a door open or close. “What happened?”
I went on to tell him specifically what had happened based on what Jo had said. He interrupted a couple of times with questions to ask me to elaborate, but other than that, he listened in silence. I hoped to God that meant he believed me.
“Okay, Preston, I need you return to her place, while we follow this up.”
“But—”
He didn’t allow me to interrupt. “An officer will meet you there and I’ll be in contact shortly. Just go straight there.” He didn’t allow me to respond before he’d put the phone down.
Nothing about me returning to El’s felt right, but with no idea of where to start searching, I may as well have been looking for a nun in a strip bar.
“Shit!” I threw the phone on the passenger’s seat and placed my head on my knuckles as they gripped the steering wheel tightly. I breathed deeply. I needed to do something. There was no fucking way I could sit back and do jack-shit. The way Detective Richards had responded was almost as though he didn’t seem surprised. He certainly had wanted me off the line.
A calming breath later, I turned my head to the side and looked at my phone. I needed to find Ben. He should be my focus. Find Ben, and I was damn sure I’d find El. Grabbing my phone, I hit John’s name from my contact list. Six rings and there was no answer. I knew he was likely asleep; I just hoped his phone wasn’t on silent.
Finally, a gruff “Hello” answered the phone.
“John, I need you to call your sister now.”
“Shit, Preston, I just got—”
“It’s El; she’s missing. I need his details right now. Shit, man. I need to find her.”
I could hear John reacting, the shuffling of his sheets and him clambering out of bed. “Give me five.” The phone went dead.
I strummed my fingers on the steering wheel, waiting far too impatiently for his return call. My mind was going a mile a minute; I couldn’t help but begin to think of the worst. Visions of El with Ben almost drove me to distraction. I felt it in my gut. She was not safe. Nothing about this situation was right. At that moment, I felt defenceless and weak, never a situation I liked to be in.
I was pissed. Pissed at myself for going into work the previous night. If only I had stayed at home, if only I had not gone to work, then she would never have been in this situation. I couldn’t help but to feel responsible.
The shrill call of my phone brought me out of my self-pity. I needed to get it together. I needed to make this right. “What have you got me?”
“Damn, man, it’s not good. Shit, you’re not going to like this.”
I felt his words in the bottom of my stomach. The fear and dread rolled around in my gut, causing me to bite back bile. “Just tell me.”
“It’s to do with your accident.” I heard the shift in his voice, the definite change. “The woman ... the woman who was killed in the accident.”
Sophie? Surely, he couldn’t be referring to Sophie. Despite the many years that had passed, Sophie’s death was still fresh and raw in my mind. With my own injuries, with my own healing, there was not a day that went by where I didn’t think about her. I had healed, and I had, with the help of Ella, managed to come to terms with the tragedy. But that didn’t mean I didn’t grieve, that I didn’t feel guilt and sadness. “Sophie? I don’t understand.”
“Did you know she had a fiancé?”
I did. I had wanted to go to the funeral. In many ways, it was a good job I didn’t. Being in hospital, being confined to my hospital bed with my own injuries had meant that I was unable to attend. I was convinced Ella and the rest of my family wouldn’t have let me go anyway. And I knew they were right. If somebody I’d loved had been taken from me the last person I would want to see was the person responsible—or at least, the person involved. It was important that I corrected myself. I was not responsible for her death. A daily reminder, a daily mantra, one that I forced myself to listen to.
Trapped in my car, in between the blackouts, the nausea, and the intense pain, I could only look on in horror as the firefighters cut open her car. It wasn’t until thirty minutes later that I found myself in a similar position—being cut out of my damaged and crumbling car. But in those thirty minutes of waiting, my pain was almost forgotten. The horror of watching a bloodied, torn body being removed by the firefighters would irrevocably change me. It was obvious she was dead.
Her lifeless body was carried carefully from the wreckage. I had watched on as the paramedics tried desperately in vain to bring her back, to give her life. But it was too late. She was gone.
Almost four days later from my hospital bed, I had learned she was engaged to marry. She was twenty-four, happy, and with a whole future ahead of her. It didn’t take long for the investigators to determine the cause of the crash. Faulty brakes on her car. Something that should never have happened, something out of my control. The wrong place at the wrong time. I’d heard it all, told myself it all. And with the help of Ella, I had begun to believe it all.
I blinked as I considered what John was telling me. “Yes I knew, why?”
“It was Ben; he was the fiancé. This is un-freaking-believable. When I spoke to my sister, she’d already begun to do some research. Damn, nothing can get past her. All that was on his file, and in addition to the basics was his previous work history. Shit, man, did you know he used to be in the army? I had no idea.”
This was all too much; too unreal. I didn’t even know where to begin with my questioning. I had no idea if Ben knew who I was, if he really was a danger; all I knew was I was worried. Hell, I was beyond worried. “How the hell did your sister manage to get the link between Ben and Sophie? This is too fucking crazy.”
“I told you, Preston, she’s like a dog with a bone and watches far too many CSI episodes. She managed to gather more information about him by using damn Google. Shit, nobody can hide from Google.”
“Do you think he’s dangerous? Is Ella at risk?” I honestly didn’t need to know the answer to those questions. It was my desperate attempt for reassurance, to convince myself that everything would be okay, to talk myself down from the unimaginable.
He reassured me without hesitation.
“Thanks, John, seriously. I’ve got to go. Just get the word out please, and let Liam know. Call me if you hear anything more.”
“Sure thing, Preston.”
I ended the phone call immediately and opened my phone history. I immediately called the Detective. The phone rang just twice before he answered. I didn’t wait for him to speak before I began, “It’s Ben. I have no idea where he is, but I do know who he is.”
“Link to Sophie Davies.”
“What the fuck? You knew? You said nothing to me. Where the hell is Ella?” My anger could no longer be contained. I didn’t care that I was speaking to a person who was meant to be helping me, a person who should be finding Ella. Instead, I was a whole heap of pissed. How could he know about Sophie, about my link, and do jack-shit about it?
“I need you to listen,” he said
with authority. “We are a step closer to finding out where he is. We are confident he is with Ella, and that she is fine.”
A tiny bit of relief flowed through my system. “How do you know?”
“We picked up some footage thirty minutes ago. Listen, Preston, I know this is hard, but you need to keep your cool. The last thing you can afford to do right now is to lose it. I need your head straight. Do you understand?”
Instinct determined I should tell him to piss off or to demand more information. Trying to keep my cool, keep calm, was proving difficult, but from his frighteningly even tone I knew there was more he was about to tell me. This was not the time to explode. I sighed deeply. “Okay, I’m listening.”
“From what we’ve discovered, Ben knows who you are. He’s been out of the forces for eighteen months now. He did a year up in Townsville before heading to the station where you’re based. He asked for the transfer.”
It didn’t make sense. How could he be the same ranking as I was with just eighteen months experience? I shared my confusion with the Detective.
“He was a firefighter before he joined forces. It was almost immediately after Sophie’s death that he enlisted. Where are you?”
My initial thought was in hell; instead, I answered, “I’m just pulled over outside of Chasm Hills. I’ve been driving around the cafés and bakeries hoping to find her.”
“Okay, I need you to stay there. I’m sending a car out to you now.” I attempted to interrupt, but he stopped me and continued. “You need to listen to me. Someone will be with you in less than ten minutes. When they get there, just follow the instructions and I’ll be in touch.”
The line went dead. This whole situation was crazy. It was too surreal, too strange, too much like a bastard nightmare. I called Liam, letting him know the recent turn of events. He was in disbelief, almost as much as I was. I promised to contact him as soon as I knew more while he promised to keep his ear to the ground.
Chapter Nineteen