All the Lost Girls

by Bilinda P Sheehan

  It took me a second to realise the sub-text behind what she was saying. The path was potentially a gold mine of evidence; they needed to keep the pool of people they would have to check against as small as possible.

  I stepped out into the downpour and pulled my hood up against the onslaught. Not that it was much good; it didn’t seem to matter in which direction I tried to turn my face, the rain still flung itself under the hood and slapped me in the face.

  “Strange place to put a playground,” Officer Shaw said. “In the middle of the woods, I mean.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Although it’s really a copse rather than a wood. When they first built these houses, the trees were probably immature but they’ve grown up a lot since then. Ash always grows fast.”

  She gave me a sideways glance and I smiled. “I grew up in the country. My father was an arborist.”

  “Was?” There was mild interest in her eyes.

  “Retired,” I said.

  She nodded and her pace seemed to quicken.

  “Mine was a DCI,” she said. “Mom always worried he’d get injured on the job when really he should have been worrying about his cholesterol.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “He’s not dead.” She grinned at me. “Just had to retire early. Lots of doctor’s appointments, three stents in his heart, and high blood pressure all made him a candidate for early retirement. He’s still kicking but the way he complains, I sometimes think he’d prefer it if the heart attack had taken him out instead of forcing him to retire.”

  I paused as we reached the edge of the pathway. It wound up into the trees and I understood why, in the early dawn light, Officer Shaw had called it a wood. From this vantage point it certainly looked like one.

  “I’ve got a torch,” she said, fishing it off her belt. The beam lit up the area directly in front of us and I followed her into the trees.

  “The path should take us straight to the—”

  I cut off as the sound of a woman’s voice drifted to us on the breeze. It sounded like Rachel. I couldn’t make out what she was saying but her voice was definitely strained, as though she were on the verge of hysterics.

  Officer Shaw started to jog forward as she spoke rapidly, in hushed tones, into the radio on her shoulder.

  We reached the edge of the playground and I could see Zoe, wrapped in her favourite Frozen duvet sitting inside the large bucket swing. The canopy of foliage overhead was keeping her relatively dry.

  Near where we stood, still hidden by the trees, I could see Rachel with her back to us.

  Dan stood between the mother and daughter and as my eyes fell on the anthracite coloured handgun in his left hand my heart skittered to a halt. He raised the gun and pointed it at Rachel. Her knees buckled and she dropped onto the soft-play tarmac, sobbing.

  6

  “I have eyes on the girl and the suspect.” Officer Shaw rattled off the coordinates of the playground into her radio.

  Dan had lowered the gun and was pacing back and forth in front of Rachel who was still sobbing on the ground.

  “Stay here,” Officer Shaw whispered to me, her face an impenetrable mask as she inched toward the gap in the trees.

  Where the hell did she think I was going to go? There was no way I was going to go out there, not while he was waving a gun around the place. He’d take one look at me and probably blow my head off.

  “Daddy!” Zoe’s voice cut over the sound of Rachel’s sobbing and my chest constricted painfully as Dan wheeled around to face her. At least he hadn’t pointed the gun at her. Yet. Just what was he planning on doing?

  I remembered the painting Zoe had made of her father. The childishly drawn blue drops that fell from Dan’s eyes. Did he plan on using the gun? Pointing it at Rachel would suggest that he had certainly thought about it. It was also entirely possible that he was depressed and intended on escaping the life he now found himself living without his daughter or his wife, by committing suicide.

  There was another, much more disturbing, possibility and just thinking about it was enough to cause my skin to break out in a cold sweat.

  I hadn’t pegged him as a family annihilator but I remembered a study I’d read that talked about substance abusers who were also jealous and overly possessive of their partners. It was a lethal cocktail.

  As I watched him try to soothe his upset daughter, I realised Dan ticked all of those boxes. In his own way, he loved his family but his love bordered on obsession and that made it so much unhealthier. I glanced at Rachel as she pushed up onto her feet. Looking at him now, there was nothing of the man she’d once described him as being when she’d fallen in love with him.

  Every time she pulled away from him, every time I thought she’d managed to extricate herself from, his hold had sucked her back in as though he were capable of exerting a force of gravity over those who fell into his orbit.

  Dan started to cross the playground toward his daughter, his grip on the gun wavering. My heart began to gallop in my ribcage. I couldn’t just stand here and watch him hurt his child.

  “Mr Clayton,” Officer Shaw called from the relatively safe cover of the trees.

  He wheeled around, raising the gun and pointing it wildly in the direction he thought her voice had come from.

  “I’m going to step out now, just so we can talk,” she said, moving out from behind the trees. “I need you to put the gun down so we can talk properly.”

  “I need you to fuck off so I can talk to my wife,” he said, his voice bordering on hysteria.

  Ducking low to keep myself out of sight, I started to move around the edge of the play area through the trees. Zoe knew me and if I could get her attention, I might be able to persuade her to come to me. At least then she would be safe. My heart hammered in my chest, the noise echoing in my ears in time to the patter of rain against leaves on the trees. They’d mostly all fallen and the wind that was starting to rise would finish off those that remained, clinging to the branches.

  I crept through the undergrowth, painfully aware of every branch that groaned, every twig that snapped underfoot and the rustle of foliage and debris that littered the ground.

  “Mr Clayton, I’m not trying to stop you from talking to your wife, I just want to facilitate a safe discussion between the two of you, is all.” Officer Shaw’s voice was calm, her tone placating. How could she do it? My palms were sweating and my heart was beating so hard I was sure that at any moment, Dan would hear it.

  “Stop fucking talking to me,” he said his voice pitched higher and I glanced through the trees. The gun dangled from his fingers, almost forgotten as he beat his fist against the side of his head. “I need to think and you’re not letting me think.”

  “Mr Clayton,” Officer Shaw said. “Can I call you Dan? My name is Tamsin. I just want to help.”

  She was standing between Dan and me, her feet inching forwards with every second that ticked by. Clearly she’d had the same idea as I’d had and she was moving toward Zoe.

  Dan started to pace, each circle bringing him closer to Zoe who sat on the swing, her eyes wide with terror, thumb jammed in her mouth.

  “Just let me get Zoe and then we can all sit down and—”

  “No!” he screamed, the sudden ferocity in his voice made Zoe shriek, her face blanching as her tears came once more, hot and heavy.

  “Please, Dan,” Rachel pleaded, “don’t hurt her. Just let me hold her. I swear, I’m sorry. I just—”

  “Shut up the lot of you!” He cried again, beating his hands against his head once more.

  I edged closer to the tree line and tried to catch Zoe’s eye but she was too upset, too distraught, to even register my presence. I was close enough to her now that if Officer Shaw could keep Dan’s attention for long enough, I could grab her but I knew any sort of sudden disturbance right now could set him off so I didn’t dare attempt it.

  Adrenaline sang in my veins and the urge to move, to do something—anything—to diffuse the situation was
a constant mantra in my head.

  Rachel rushed forward, her eyes focused only on Zoe, but Officer Shaw caught her arm, dragging her back as Dan once more raised the gun and pointed it first at his wife and then at the police officer.

  Sirens split the air and I felt a momentary shot of relief spike through me. Our backup had arrived. Surely Dan would see the situation was pointless and would give up the gun. Everything and everyone would be fine.

  “Daddy,” Zoe moaned through her tears.

  He turned to his daughter and crossed the space between them before crouching next to her.

  “It’s all right, baby. Daddy’s right here.”

  She started to cry harder as he bumped the gun against her arm and I could feel my heart climb into my mouth. Zoe struggled against his grip, fighting to get away from him, to move away from the cold metal.

  Dan’s expression twisted. The tenderness I’d seen just moments before vanished as he looked down at his struggling daughter with disgust.

  He pushed himself onto his feet once more, turning his attention on Rachel. “You’ve done this to her. You’ve turned her against me,” he said, using the gun to emphasise each of his words.

  “Mr Clayton,” Officer Shaw said. “Please put the gun down.”

  The sirens grew louder and I could see the faint pulse of red and blue lights bouncing off the trees surrounding me.

  “I said get back,” he said.

  “Just let me reach Zoe…”

  “I said GET THE FUCK BACK—”

  Crack!

  Silence flooded in to fill the void. It took my brain a moment to realise what had happened. My mind moved as though it had legs that were stuck in molasses. Officer Shaw turned from Dan, her eyes wide with surprise as her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground. I’d always thought that if I were faced with a traumatic event that everything would feel so much clearer, the adrenaline making the world sharper somehow. As I crouched in the bushes, I was catapulted back to that night with Clara. The feel of her fingers as they’d slipped from mine was as real now as it had been then. Officer Shaw’s eyes found mine and in them I could see a plea, a silent cry for help.

  Sound returned to my ears with a deafening roar. Zoe and Rachel’s screams mingled to create a cacophony of noise.

  My gaze flickered from the face of Officer Shaw, who now lay on the ground, her legs bent back behind her body at an unnatural angle. I took in the scene in what felt like tiny snapshots of information. As though my mind understood that if I tried to focus on everything all at once, I would fall apart.

  I wanted to go to her, to check to see if she was breathing, but my gaze was drawn up to Dan. He was moaning like a wounded animal. Low guttural choking sounds came from deep within his throat.

  Listening to him made me think of home. Ireland.

  I remembered one Summer time when I was standing on the back porch, hearing the sound of a cow gasping for air. Low guttural choking noises crawled out of its throat as the animal lay dying. It had broken through a fence into the clover pasture and gorged itself on the lush plants. It lay on its side, stomach swollen into a high mound.

  “I didn’t mean to…” Dan’s words cut through my ruminations. Shock. I was in shock, that was what was wrong with me. I recognised it as the same emotion I’d experienced when I’d managed to pull myself from the river and realised Clara was nowhere to be found.

  Curling into a ball on the bank of the river, I’d started to sob, teeth chattering, mind reliving the moment when her hand had slipped out of mine.

  But I couldn’t curl into a ball now. Zoe depended on me.

  Only a few seconds seemed to have passed but the sirens were louder now. The sound of voices shouting, searching, drawing closer, broke through Dan’s panicked babbling.

  Zoe had slipped off the side of the swing and was making her way toward the trees, moving in my direction on unsteady legs. Her hair quickly became plastered to her face as the rain pelted down from above. The pale pink pyjama set she wore rapidly turned a dark rose colour under the unrelenting weather. Yet the grinning panda on the front of her long sleeve bed shirt was undeterred by the downpour and still proclaimed how much he loved to sleep.

  Beckoning her forward, I moved as close to the edge of the tree line as I could, careful to keep myself out of sight of Dan. If he saw me…

  Zoe’s left foot hit a small stone and she stumbled, dropping the doll that had been in her grip. My heart tried to crawl out of my chest as it hit the ground with a dull thud. For a moment I was certain Dan hadn’t heard anything but as Zoe bent down to retrieve her lost companion, he swung around and stared at his daughter. His face displayed a myriad of emotions, completely unreadable because of their brief duration. They flashed across his face in the blink of an eye.

  Time slowed to a crawl as he raised his arm. The gun trembled in his grip. Rachel’s scream ripped through the night air.

  “Sorry, baby, it’ll be better soon,” Dan said.

  My legs were moving, my body in motion before my mind fully caught up. Zoe’s blue eyes were wide with terror as she faced her father, shock and fear sealing anything she might have said to him behind her lips. My fingers brushed the edges of her soft pink pyjamas.

  Crack!

  7

  “You sure you have to leave, Siobhan?” Paul asked, wrapping his arms around my waist as he tried to tug me back into bed.

  Giggling, I pulled away and finished tucking my blouse into my navy slacks.

  “You know I’m sure. The fact that they’re letting me in on this is a big deal for me.”

  He pouted, his sandy hair tousled from the pillows and I reached over to brush my fingers against his cheeks.

  “I’ll be back at the weekend,” I said. “Maybe sooner if they decide they don’t want my help.”

  Paul grabbed my fingers and tugged them to his mouth. “And what am I going to do in this bed all on my lonesome?”

  “Sleep,” I said with a grin.

  My phone started to vibrate and I tugged my hand back, straightening up before I read the message.

  “Shit,” I swore. I was going to be late.

  “Something the matter?”

  “Just Brady. You know what he’s like.”

  Paul smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “He’s an asshole but he’s a good guy.” His smile faded. “He’s not going with you is he?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I’ve got to send my reports in to him. And he keeps sending me new memos on the case.”

  He sat up on the bed. “You know you can talk to me about it.”

  I smiled. “I know but if I don’t go now, I’m going to miss my train and I really don’t think being late for my first day is such a great impression to give.”

  “I guess not…”

  I leaned over the bed and pressed my lips to his, a quick kiss that quickly deepened as he tried to tug me back onto the bed alongside him.

  “I’ve got to go,” I said, pushing him away.

  “You’re going to leave me wanting?” Under normal circumstances I would have given in and climbed back into bed with him. But my job was too important to me.

  It was easier for him; his position with the NBCI was already secure. I was the new girl and the last big case I’d worked had hardly turned out in my favour. Evidence had gone missing—mislabelled apparently—although I found that hard to believe. And the suspect we’d had in mind had walked away scot free thanks to the DPP deciding there was insufficient evidence to go ahead with a prosecution.

  A year later, they’d finally agreed to take the training wheels off by sending me down the country to take over the murder enquiry that had just opened up. It was important and I wasn’t going to screw up a second time.

  This time, I had something to prove.

  “I’ll see you soon,” I told Paul.

  With a sigh he let me go and for a moment I could have sworn that what I saw reflected in his eyes was resentment. It was gone in an instant a
nd I dismissed the thought, pushing it aside in favour of the other thoughts filling up my head.

  A little over two hours later, I was sitting inside the Garda Sergeant’s car as he drove me through the winding back roads of Tipperary. We’d left what had looked like the only decent road outside of Cahir and were now winding our way upwards.

  I stared out the window at the mountains that surrounded us like giants standing in judgment of those who lived in their shadow.

  “Much further?” I asked.

  I turned to stare at the man next to me. His light brown hair was greying around the temples and, from the looks of things, beginning to thin. His mouth was set in a grim line and had been like that from the moment I’d told him I wanted to go straight to the site where the body had been discovered.

  “Another bit,” he said, his eyes never leaving the road.

  Great. I’d already managed to piss off the locals.

  “Look, I know you’re not thrilled about me being here,” I started to speak but trailed off as he took a hairpin corner without slowing down. My hand found the handle that sat near the roof of the car and I held onto it until my fingers began to cramp.

  “Doesn’t bother me in the slightest,” he said, never once losing his tight-lipped expression.

  Turning my head, I rolled my eyes and returned my gaze to the world beyond the window.

  The clouds hung low over the mountains, giving an oppressive atmosphere to the area.

  “Which mountains are they?” I asked.

  “The Galtee’s,” he said as though that explained everything.

  He swung the car into what looked like a car park and hit the brake. Across the lot, I could see the fluttering Garda tape that announced to everyone who saw it that this area was strictly off limits.

  “Up through there,” he said, jabbing a finger in the direction of a path that wound up into the trees.

  “Are you coming?”

  “Why would I? Haven’t I been up there enough over the last twenty-four hours? You’re the one who won’t take our word for it.”