‘That’s a good thing, isn’t it? I mean if everyone is talking about Carol-Anne and sharing her picture that can only be good.’
Isla ground her teeth. ‘You need to be prepared for an almighty backlash. Given the nature of what happened yesterday, there are plenty of mothers who will empathize with what has happened, and there will also be plenty who will call you names and deride you for leaving your daughter unsupervised in that car. I’m not judging you, Alex, but others will. So, to that end, our advice is for you to delete, or at least suspend any of your social media accounts: Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, or wherever else you have a digital footprint. Such an appeal is going to thrust you firmly into the spotlight, and once it’s out there, there will be no going back.’
‘I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to get her back,’ Alex said firmly. ‘Even if it means I get lynched, we’ve got to try everything.’
Isla nodded her understanding. ‘Okay, well can I ask you to find me a recent picture of Carol-Anne that we can distribute? It should be a full-body shot if possible, and preferably something which captures her essence in your eyes. Whoever has her may be using larger clothes and hats to disguise her appearance, so we need something that would shine through disguises like that. Okay?’
Alex raced up the stairs, bursting back into Carol-Anne’s room and immediately scanning the walls for something suitable. As her eyes danced over the images, she heard a noise that chilled her bones: the unmistakeable sound of a little girl giggling.
The bus, packed full of antisocial children on their way to school, finally dropped Ray at the stop at the end of his road. He already had a cigarette between his lips as he stepped off the vehicle, and it was lit before his second foot hit the pavement. Public transport wasn’t his preferred method of travel, most usually bumming a lift home from Owen, but at least he’d managed to grab ten minutes’ kip before the first of the screaming and chattering groups had got on. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than being a school teacher and being subjected to six continuous hours of enthusiastic disobedience. He’d far rather spend a day sitting outside a suspect’s premises waiting for something to happen; surveillance was boring, yet peaceful.
The air felt fresh this morning, and the only clouds that remained in the bright blue sky were thin and white, offering little threat of the downpour they’d experienced yesterday. The surrounding countryside was now firmly in autumn’s grip and winter was only just around the corner. Piles of wet leaves lined the edge of every kerb, and the puddles on the road had yet to evaporate under the bright sun. A cool breeze offset any warmth of the sun’s rays.
His phone beeped to inform him of a new message.
Are we still on for tonight? I miss you x
Why had he brought this additional complication into his life? Didn’t he have enough on his plate already balancing an intensive job, a wife, and child? His guilt exploded once again as he pictured Carol-Anne; maybe if he hadn’t started the affair she would still be here. Had his behaviour indirectly led to Alex’s momentary lapse of concentration yesterday? Was this karma’s way of getting back at him?
He deleted the message without responding, telling himself that cooling things would be the right thing to do, at least until Carol-Anne was safely returned. After that, he would need to sit down with Alex and resolve their future once and for all.
He didn’t recognize the small red car parked on the driveway, but as he remained on the doorstep finishing his cigarette, he couldn’t help wondering who would choose such a vibrant colour. Stamping out the cigarette, he popped two pieces of gum into his mouth, dropping the now empty juice bottle in the recycle bin.
Opening the door, he wasn’t prepared for the sound of chattering coming from the kitchen. Poking his head around the door, he caught sight of Alex with a grey-haired woman in a matching cardigan, who had police written all over her face.
Alex rushed over to him, throwing her arms around his neck. ‘Thank God you’re home.’ She peeled away and fixed him with a stare. ‘I heard Carol-Anne giggling upstairs.’
He frowned sceptically. Of all the things he’d thought she might say, this hadn’t been one of them. He’d expected admonishment for staying out all night and for stinking of cigarettes, though neither of these things seemed to be bothering her.
‘DS Granger,’ the grey woman said, extending her hand. ‘I’m Isla Murphy. DI Trent assigned me as your Family Liaison.’
Ray shook the hand, still not able to comprehend the mixed look of excitement and horror on Alex’s face. ‘Please, call me Ray. What’s going on here?’
‘I heard her, Ray,’ Alex blurted. ‘I heard Carol-Anne’s voice in her room. I swear it!’
He raised an eyebrow at Isla.
‘Your wife believes she heard the sound of a child laughing upstairs,’ Isla confirmed.
‘Giggling,’ Alex corrected. ‘Just like Carol-Anne. I swear it was her, Ray.’
‘As I explained to your wife, it was probably a by-product of the stress she’s been under.’
‘I didn’t imagine it,’ Alex said, glaring.
‘With respect, Alex, we’ve both searched the room and there is no sign of Carol-Anne up there.’
‘I heard her,’ Alex repeated, annoyed at the exchanged glances between Isla and Ray.
Gripping her arms, Ray held Alex firmly. ‘What exactly did you hear?’ he said, his frown still heavy.
Alex took a deep breath to compose her out-of-control emotions. ‘Just now. I was upstairs in her room, and I swear to you I heard her voice, as clear as I’m speaking to you. I was standing at the foot of her bed, looking at the photographs of her on the wall when I heard it. It was like she was actually in the bed. I’m not making this up, Ray.’
He blinked several times, his detective’s mind trying to connect dots that couldn’t be there. He had to accept that one of two truths were real: either somebody had abducted Carol-Anne as Alex had claimed, or his wife really had snapped.
He’d been home and searched for Carol-Anne and she hadn’t been anywhere in the house. He froze. In the panic of rushing home from the scene yesterday afternoon he’d checked all the obvious places – the bedrooms, living room, kitchen and bathroom – but he hadn’t torn the place apart.
His heart bursting with hope, he pulled himself away from Alex and raced up the stairs, turning at the top and diving into Carol-Anne’s bedroom, stopping in the middle of the room and straining to hear anything. His heart skipped a beat as he momentarily saw Carol-Anne snuggled under her thin duvet, before his mind snapped back to focus, and he realized the bed was empty.
Alex burst into the room right behind him. ‘I was just here,’ she began, before he lifted a hand to silence her.
It was almost impossible to hear anything above the sound of his rapidly beating heart. Dropping to his knees, he searched the carpet for any kind of audio device that could have been inadvertently triggered, or a toy with the capability of making a noise like laughter, but all he found was a box of books and clothes his sister had donated to them that had belonged to her own daughter. Certainly nothing obvious that could have been mistaken for a child’s giggle. He then lifted each of the stuffed toys from around the edge of Carol-Anne’s bed; none of them made a noise as he squeezed their middles and limbs.
Climbing back to his feet he went through each of the drawers in the chest, and finally the