The Island Angel

by Alex Slorra

  “It’s not against the law to sit in a coffee shop. Besides, I like watching you work. It’s so fuckin’ weird.”

  “Shit, Sarah,” Anna whispered. “Don’t swear in here.”

  Sarah laughed and jiggled a cassette-sized device at her. “Look, I got one!”

  Anna’s curiosity got the better of her. “What is it?”

  “An iPod.”

  “Wow, those are expensive.”

  “Hell, yeah.” Sarah cupped it in her hands. “But you’re my little bitch now, aren’t you?” She flipped the iPod and kissed its shiny back.

  “You can’t make out here. Get a room.”

  “Only if you join us.” Sarah puckered her lips and made a kissing action towards Anna.

  Anna laughed. “Stop that.”

  “Not my fault you’re cute.”

  “You need help.”

  “Exactly.” Sarah chuckled.

  Anna sensed a stare from the other side of the room and glanced over to see her boss giving her the hex.

  “Gotta work.” She turned and started to clear a nearby table.

  Sarah threw a scrunched-up napkin at Anna, which bounced off her shoulder.

  “You missed something.” Sarah pointed to the paper ball on the floor.

  Anna shook her head, trying to hide a smirk. She bent down with cups and plates in both hands and tried to pick up the napkin between two free fingers. The toe of Sarah’s Reese Denim sneaker nudged her.

  “Sarah!” Anna yelled, drawing the attention of other customers in the coffee shop. Embarrassed, she lowered her voice. “You’ll get me fired.”

  “That’d be awesome because then you can give me a lift home.”

  Anna rolled her eyes. She’d only just gotten the job a few weeks earlier and Sarah, after discovering this, would turn up every day after she finished her summer job at a music shop, begging for a ride home.

  “I’ve got ten minutes left.” Anna headed back to the counter.

  “Get me a free muffin,” Sarah yelled after at her. “A blueberry one!”

  An hour later, after dropping Sarah off in the opposite direction, she’d pulled into the drive of her family home on the western outskirts of Ann Arbor.

  “Hey, Mom.” Anna dropped her keys in a bowl on the kitchen counter.

  “How was work?”

  “Okay, a bit quieter than normal.”

  “Your pickup working out for you?”

  “I love it!” And she did. It was a white 1993 Dodge Ram, with a large chrome front bumper, which, more by luck then ability, Anna hadn’t yet smashed into anything.

  Her mom had bought the pickup as a present after she passed her driving test three months ago. It had changed her world. She was free to go where she wanted, when she wanted, no longer needing to ask for rides. Or worse, having to borrow her mom’s car, which required half an hour’s discussion about the dos and don’ts of driving before she could get her hands on the keys. The slight problems of gas money and Sarah using her as a chauffeur were easily tolerable. The part-time job at a coffee shop downtown was only a fifteen-minute drive away, and she had her own money for the first time. It seemed as though the world would finally submit to her will and she could be herself.

  “Annamaria, I’ve got to take Dad to a doctor’s appointment. I should be back around six. I managed to get him ready without too much of a fight this time. The medication is at least helping with that.” Her mom placed her handbag on the kitchen counter. “I better use the bathroom before we go. Can you keep an eye on him for a minute?”

  “Sure… Where is he?”

  “I sat him in his chair on the deck.”

  Anna nodded and headed across their dated 1970s kitchen. She pushed open the screen door and stepped out onto the deck. It was in need of a coat of paint, something she had promised to do before school started again in September.

  A clear sky, except for a few smudges of white, and a temperature in the eighties, made for a perfect late summer day. The blue wicker lounger, where her father normally sat, was unoccupied.

  “He’s not here!” Anna called into the house, before scanning their expansive yard. The property was a turn of the century farm, but the land had been subdivided to the point they now only owned two acres. Her father had been a farmer, and being a lot older than her mother, he had retired a few years ago.

  A small red barn sat at the end of their driveway’s turning circle and, behind it, broadleaf trees obscured the neighbouring property. She spotted her father ambling in a zigzag route out of their yard.

  “He’s making a break for it!” Anna yelled towards the screen door as she set off after him. Before she could catch up, he rounded the edge of the barn and was no longer in sight, causing Anna to increase her pace.

  Her father had Parkinson’s disease. It was advanced now, and he was 1 per cent of the person he’d been. It was cruel to say that at 50 per cent, he was a kinder person. Anna chastised herself for the thought.

  When she found him, he was on his back like an upturned ladybird.

  “Come on, up you get.” She had to use all her strength to help him to his feet. He would be a foot taller than her if he stood straight. Something he rarely did. “Are you okay?” He didn’t answer but instead stared at her with a blank expression.

  Then, in a rare moment of lucidity, he asked a question, although it was obvious he didn’t know who he was speaking to. “When will this end?” His face was ready for a meaningful answer, ready to engage with a response that would provide enlightenment.

  Anna couldn’t think. She didn’t know what to say. It wouldn’t end. It would only get worse and worse.

  “Soon.” It was her first ever real lie, and it chilled her that sometimes the truth couldn’t be told.

  The answer appeared to satisfy him. He gave a small nod, his stature raised, as if everything was now right with the world.

  She brushed him down, picked the dried leaves off his plaid shirt, and guided him back in the direction of the house.

  Her mom grabbed his arm when they approached. “We’re going to be late. I told you to stay in your chair.” She shepherded him in the direction of their car.

  Anna watched for a moment, still fazed by having to lie to her father. I’d better check on Spot.

  She stepped off the deck and meandered to their remaining field.

  When her sister was twelve, the pony had been her pride and joy. Now, at twenty-one, Emma had a two-year-old girl, and Spot was too old to ride. Emma was still with the same man she’d met at eighteen, but they hadn’t married. They lived in a suburb of Detroit, and Anna rarely saw her. She’d hoped to visit more often, but her mom didn’t like her going into Detroit.

  Another reason she hadn’t seen her recently was Emma’s partner, Mike. He was always aggressive towards her and sometimes worse. She didn’t like how he looked at her.

  The phone rang, but by the time she had reached the house, it had stopped. A moment later, her cell beeped. She pulled the small device out of her pocket.

  “Where’s Mom?” Her sister’s frantic voice crackled in her ear.

  “Taking Dad to the doctor.”

  The line went quiet for a heartbeat.

  “Anna, I need you to come and collect me.”

  “Why, what’s up?”

  “Please come,” Emma pleaded.

  “I just got home. What’s wrong with your car?”

  “Mike won’t give me the keys.” She sounded in near hysterics. “Please! He’s drunk and being an asshole. I need to get out of here for a bit.”

  Anna’s chest tightened. Emma and Mike always fought and sometimes it even came to blows.

  “Okay, Emma. I’m coming.”

  It should have been a forty-minute drive to Emma’s house, but, with the rush-hour traffic, it had taken an hour and a half.

  She turned into her sister’s road, driving slowly past the rundown houses. A couple were boarded up, while, in front of others, trash clung to the street’s edge. In c
omplete contrast, many were bustling, with families working on cars or sitting on their porches, drinking beer and laughing.

  Anna pulled into her sister’s double drive, slipped the column shifter into park, and turned off the ignition. She walked around to the rear of the house since the front door was never used.

  She paused when she heard her niece wailing and Emma yelling. Nothing new then. But she wasn’t sure. Emma’s tone lacked the conviction it normally had when dealing with Mike.

  She knocked on the back door. If it had been just her sister at home, she wouldn’t have bothered. But Mike was always at home now, and Anna didn’t want to get on his wrong side. Not that he had a right side. At least, none she’d seen.

  “It’s Anna,” she yelled.

  The house went silent, and then Mike yanked open the door.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” His words were slurred. In one hand, he held a beer while his foot propped open the door. He ogled her up and down.

  “Emma!” Anna called around him.

  “Anna, go home!” Emma’s words came fast and urgent.

  “That’s right, fuck off.” Mike let the hydraulic closer slap the screen door shut in front of her as he turned to go back in.

  Anna hesitated, but she couldn’t simply leave.

  She yanked open the door and raced into the kitchen. Mike faced Emma, yelling at her. It looked like he might hit her.

  “What’s going on?” Anna screamed. Abbie, her two-year-old niece, was standing on the floor beside her mother, crying. When she saw Anna, the toddler wobbled over to her. Anna instinctively picked her up.

  “I told you to go home.” Mike launched himself towards Anna. One of his hands curled into a fist.

  Then everything happened too fast.

  Emma had pulled a knife out of its block on the kitchen counter. She darted between them.

  Up close, Anna could see that her sister’s face was swollen, her eyes red raw, with mascara smeared down her cheeks. Emma pointed the knife at Mike and waved it towards him. “You leave them alone!”

  “So, bitch, you’re going to stab me now?” He reached to try to catch her hand, but in his drunken state, missed. The knife pierced his forearm, causing him to reel back in shock. In an instant, his shock turned to rage, fuelled by alcoholic venom.

  Anna had never seen such fury. He grabbed Emma’s hand, twisting her wrist until the knife fell. He snatched up the blade and, in one motion, stabbed Emma in the chest.

  Rooted to the spot, Anna tried to scream, but no sound came. She lowered her niece and darted to her sister. “No! No!”

  But Emma was already on the floor with a growing pool of blood spreading under her.

  “This is your fault!” Mike roared at her. He spun Anna around and pushed the blade into her ribs, then again as she fell.

  Through searing pain and a sinking sensation, as if the ground was dropping out from under her, she watched Mike burst out of the house and heard his car screech down the road.

  Abbie had dropped to her rear and covered her face with her arms while crying.

  Anna reached into her pocket, with one hand was pressed against her chest, and dialled 911. Blood filled her mouth as she tried to speak.

  “My sister… Stabbed, I… I think she’s dead!” Just getting the words out was agony; fear and dread were pulling them apart. “I’m hurt too.” She trembled.

  “Please provide your location.”

  She gave the address the best she could. The phone slipped from her hand.

  “Mommy,” Abbie wailed, standing up and then taking unstable steps towards Emma.

  “Everything will be okay,” Anna said, choking.

  She tried to push herself up, but the effort made her faint, and her brain flashed brown-red then white. She collapsed but managed to stay conscious. Unable to move, her eyes focused on an object inches from her nose. Anna followed the second hand of Emma’s watch on her lifeless wrist; a tick for every minute. And then it stopped.

  ANNA WOKE TO a soothing voice. Fingers stroked her hair and cheek.

  “Sweetheart, you’re okay.”

  She blinked to clear her eyes, forcing them to focus. A woman with different coloured irises stared back at her.

  “You were having a bad dream.”

  “Where’s Abbie?” she asked in a sudden panic, needing to know she was safe.

  “In her room, doing her homework.”

  Anna clenched her jaw and closed her eyes tightly, trying to clear the too-vivid images.

  “What time is it?”

  “After five.”

  Propping herself up, Anna rubbed her eyes. She’d dreamed about that day so many times, and she’d become accustomed to how it affected her. But this time it had seemed more real, more threatening. Her past was seeping into the present.

  “Are you all right?” Jessica asked.

  Anna sighed, leaned forward, and clung to Jessica as if her life depended on it. Something told her it just might. She gave her head a quick shake, trying to vanquish the demons dancing in her skull. Thoughts became words she’d meant to keep secret.

  “With you, yes.”

  IN A PUB, close to his hotel, John finished the dregs of his pint of IPA. He had planned to start looking for an apartment to rent but, after Anna’s call, it appeared there was a possibility he hadn’t expected.

  Heather had given him the boot a week before, forcing him to take a room in an economy hotel in Stratford. Except there was nothing economical about hotels in London. He had made a big mistake, and he knew it. Sure, Anna was frigid and rubbish at sex, but he wanted her back. Anna’s friend’s problems had given him a way in, a means to justify seeing her. He lifted his phone off the bar’s varnished, hardwood surface and texted the intern his firm had assigned him.

  Something’s come up. Can you take my casework on Tuesday? Give me a call when you want to be briefed.

  A few seconds later, his phone buzzed with a text.

  Pamela: It should be possible. I’ll call you shortly.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ADRIAN CHAPMAN GLANCED up from his desk to the detective who had entered his office.

  “We have a lead, sir,” the detective stated in an even tone.

  “Which case?”

  “Hokthorn equity fraud.”

  “What’s the lead?”

  “Last Tuesday, we spoke to Miss Cox’s brother in North London—”

  “I know.” He turned his attention to the view from his fourth-storey office.

  Routemaster buses and black cabs whizzed along the Embankment, while beyond, a river cruise boat left its jetty to head down the Thames. It was quiet for a Sunday afternoon, and his team was falling behind on closing cases. So, he had insisted they all come in. At least today, he could get things done without his boss breathing down his neck.

  “Well, sir, he said he hadn’t seen her. But, when we asked around, two people in the Black Horse pub across the road identified her from her photograph.”

  “Get on with it, please,” he snapped.

  “This morning, Darren Cox reported his car stolen. But there was none in his drive when we questioned him. Meaning, it had disappeared long before he reported it missing.” The detective glanced down to read from his tablet. “It was a black Saab convertible, 1983. Registration H72—”

  “Look at these.” Adrian touched the bags under his eyes. “I’m growing old waiting to hear about this lead.”

  “Understood, sir. The vehicle was logged by an average speed camera heading north on the A1. That was the evening Miss Cox disappeared. After this—”

  “North. I see.” He scowled at the detective. “The car should be easy to find then.” He waved his hands round his head as if casting a spell. “Somewhere…north.”

  Unfazed, the detective continued. “After this, Miss Cox was caught on CCTV at a service station near Durham. We believe she left the motorway on the A690. Using that timeframe, we’re going through the camera feeds to track down her r
oute.”

  Adrian sighed. “How long will that take?”

  “We should have the results by the end of the day.”

  “Any social media alerts for Miss Cox?”

  “A few hits. I’m in the process of reviewing them.”

  “If she’s not located by the end of the week, I want to deprioritise the search. She’ll turn up eventually. I need more focus on Blackmoors Bank.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Oh, and let that IT manager from Hokthorn, Chris something, look at Miss Cox’s laptop. And make sure he’s supervised.” He turned back to the window. “He might find something we haven’t.”

  SUNDAY WAS PAST sunset and, even though it was the end of May, it still was cold at night. Jessica had lit the woodstove to keep the room warm. She’d have to look at the boiler again, if only so Anna could have a warm bath. On her return to the kitchen, she finished cleaning up the dinner leftovers and made two cups of coffee.

  Anna’s mood had worsened as the day progressed and she had remained in the lounge, complaining her leg was stiff.

  Jessica placed a cup on the table for her and sat on the sofa opposite. “Something wrong?”

  Anna turned to her. “Have you seen my watch? I had it yesterday morning. But I can’t find it.”

  “Sorry, I haven’t. I can take a look.”

  Anna sighed. “I’m pretty sure I lost it outside. I checked the time when the storm started… It was my sister’s.” She blinked and wrapped her arms around herself.

  Jessica stood. “I’ll look for it now.”

  “It’s okay. I searched the house already. I must have lost it in the paddock.” Desolation swept across her face before she masked her emotions and changed the subject.

  “I need to work out what to do with this volunteer thing,” Anna said, her gaze flicking back to her laptop’s screen. “I had a dozen people reply to the website. I’m kind of surprised, I didn’t expect anyone to actually see it.”

  “They’re likely searching for volunteering work in the area.”

  Anna nodded. “A few are creepy, but there’s one or two that might work out… The thing is, when I put up the notice, I’d thought the spare room would be free. So, you’ll have to give it up.”