Stolen (21 page)

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Authors: Rebecca Muddiman

Tags: #child, #kidnap, #stolen, #northern, #crime

BOOK: Stolen
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But what was more frightening was the possibility he actually thought this little girl was his daughter. Then what? How would they prove it? If he agreed with Abby but they were unable to get her back, what would happen to Abby then?

And how was he supposed to know anyway? He didn’t understand how Abby could be so sure about recognising her daughter. The last time they’d seen her she was just a baby, not even a year old. Was it possible to know her five years later? Maybe it was a mother’s instinct. Simon worried that his lack of intuition could lead to serious consequences. If he wasn’t sure, how could he say yes or no? His decision could either mean that he and Abby walked away from their own daughter or tore someone else’s family apart.

What did he really want to happen today?

Abby’s fidgeting in her seat shook Simon from his thoughts. The air was beginning to clear and the sun poked its head out of the clouds. A group of women with a gaggle of noisy children emerged from the street a little further down the road. The activity caused Abby to sit forward and search the group for Sara and Casey. Simon watched her, unsure of what or who to be on the lookout for. The sag of her shoulders told him everything he needed to know.

Simon wound down his window and shrugged off his jacket. He was just settling into his seat again when Abby shot forwards, eyes wide.

‘That’s her,’ she said.

Simon sat up and followed Abby’s gaze. Turning out of the cul-de-sac onto the main road, a young blonde woman walked leisurely along holding the hand of a little dark-haired girl. The girl was skipping and staring up at the woman, a grin spreading across her face. He stole a glance at Abby and noticed a single tear trickling down her face. He looked back at Sara and Casey, who were almost at the end of the road.

Without a word Simon opened the car door and got out. Abby opened her door and looked expectantly at him.

‘I can’t see her properly,’ he said. ‘I’ll go after them. Wait here.’

‘No,’ Abby said and walked around to his side of the car. ‘I want to come.’

‘You can’t,’ he said, keeping an eye on Casey. ‘If they see you, you’ll get arrested.’ He started to cross the road. ‘Wait here, I’ll call you and let you know where I am.’

Before she could argue, Simon crossed the road, following Sara and Casey, leaving Abby standing alone beside the car.

He barely noticed as Abby approached and sat down on the bench next to him. He could still see Casey twirling round and round on the roundabout but her face was a blur of movement and distance. Abby took his hand but he didn’t avert his eyes to look at her. He was mesmerised by the sight of the little girl.

His head twisted around as Abby cupped his face. She wiped a tear from his cheek that he didn’t even know had fallen. She was almost smiling at him.

‘Well?’ she asked.

Simon thought about everything that had crossed his mind the night before. He didn’t want to rush into things. He made decisions with his head, not his heart. And yet the minute he’d seen that girl, he knew. He knew that he was looking at the little girl who was taken from him five years ago.

Simon looked into Abby’s eyes. He opened his mouth and said, ‘I don’t know.’

Abby dropped her hand from his. ‘What?’

Simon looked back at Casey as she jumped off the roundabout. She continued to twirl around and after several turns she fell to the floor in a giggling heap. An image of Abby drunk on cheap cider crept into his mind. Simon instinctively made a move to go to her but as Sara walked over and picked her up he stumbled back onto the bench and felt a stab of pain in his heart unlike anything he’d felt before.

He turned back to Abby and his breath caught in his chest. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes.’

Abby reached out for him with shaking hands and stroked his hair, a smile peeking through the stream of tears like the sun through a rain-soaked window pane. Simon wrapped his arms around her and for the first time he felt like everything would work out.

Abby pulled away from Simon and turned around, leaning down and pretending to fasten her shoelace. Simon glanced to his side and saw Sara and Casey walking their way. As much as he felt he should, he just couldn’t drag his eyes away from them. Grabbing his phone from his pocket he turned on the camera function and snapped a picture of Casey as she turned towards him. Sara stared obliviously ahead at the duck pond and tugged on Casey’s hand, encouraging her to turn and look at the ducks and swans swimming carelessly through the muddy water.

Once they passed by, Abby turned back to Simon and followed his eyes down to the picture of Casey on his phone. She took the phone from his hand and lifted it closer to her face.

Abby and Simon walked hand in hand on the opposite side of the pond to Sara and Casey. They kept several paces behind them, but Sara never once looked their way and Casey was too concerned with distributing bread equally amongst the ducks to even notice she was the centre of their attention.

As Sara tried to lead Casey away she stopped and felt around in her jeans pocket. Pulling a phone out she answered while keeping an eye on her charge. After a brief conversation she hung up and shouted for Casey to follow her. Casey looked from Sara to the queue of ducks to the remaining bread in her hand. Making a quick decision she tore the bread into four and flung it into the water, laughing as the ducks raced to collect their prizes.

Sara and Casey headed towards the car park. Abby and Simon walked quickly in an effort to keep up. As they reached the car park a black Range Rover pulled in and Casey waved at someone unseen. Abby and Simon waited by the gate, trying to blend in with the incoming and outgoing groups of people.

Sara opened the back door of the car and ushered Casey towards it. As she did, the driver’s door opened and a tall, red-haired woman stepped out. She walked around to Casey and bent down to give her a hug. Casey was speaking rapidly, probably regaling the woman with stories about ducks and swans and roundabouts. The woman smiled and stood up.

‘That must be her,’ Abby said.

Simon tore his eyes away from Casey and looked down at Abby. ‘What?’

He followed Abby’s eyes and saw she was no longer staring at Casey; instead she focused on the woman. As Casey was put into the car and the two women climbed into the front, Abby started to walk towards them. Simon pulled her back by the collar.

‘Stop,’ he said.

‘I want to talk to her,’ Abby said, trying to pull away.

‘Abby, wait,’ he said, his eyes still glued to the woman in the driver’s seat. Abby turned and looked at him.

‘What is it?’ she asked.

‘That woman,’ he said, ‘I know her.’

Chapter Fifty-One

Gardner gave one last glance up at Marcus Davies’ flat before getting in the car. It was the second time he’d spoken to Chelsea’s father and he liked him even less now than before. Jill Hoffman had been adamant that he hadn’t taken their daughter but only because they hadn’t seen him for over four years and he didn’t give a shit. Why would he want her? Jill had asked Gardner.

Why would he want her?

That got to him. Why
wouldn’t
a father want his own child? He was sure she hadn’t meant it that way, but to him it made Chelsea sound like a burdensome pet, or a piece of junk. But Davies’ attitude was pretty much as Jill had made out. He couldn’t care less about his daughter. He wasn’t even aware she was missing the first time they’d visited and it didn’t appear that he’d been losing much sleep since he’d been informed. He certainly didn’t have her. He didn’t have enough money to keep himself so why would he want a kid sucking up everything he had? Gardner left Davies’ flat with no doubt that he was innocent; or innocent of abduction anyway. The man couldn’t have abducted anyone; it would require half a brain cell and the drive to drag himself off the settee.

DC Harrington hadn’t said a word the whole time they were there. He’d stood by the door, looking around the cramped living room in disgust. Gardner wanted to bring Lawton. He was trying to push her towards applying for the detective exam, trying to get her experience wherever she could find it, but though he had no doubt she had the intelligence and the commitment, she was still lacking in confidence. She was happy to continue knocking on doors asking old folks if they’d seen anything and listening to their life stories in return. He knew she was better than that. She could handle something bigger, Marcus Davies for example, he knew she could.
She
just didn’t know it. So he was stuck with Harrington, who was actually a pretty good detective and had done some pretty good work on the case so far. Gardner just didn’t like him. Couldn’t say why. He just didn’t.

As they drove through the estate, past the parade of boarded-up shops, Harrington wound down the window. Personally, Gardner would’ve waited until they were back on the main road. Less chance some kid would throw a brick at them.

‘I think I’m going to need two showers after that. At least two,’ Harrington said, lifting his shirt collar to his nose. ‘Jesus. Maybe the kid is there.’

Gardner looked over at Harrington. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Maybe that’s what smells so bad. The kid’s rotting body,’ Harrington said with a grin. Gardner didn’t return it. ‘What?’ he said, laughing. ‘It’s a joke.’

‘Hilarious,’ Gardner said as he turned out onto the main road and finally wound down his window.

‘So now what?’ Harrington said.

Gardner shook his head. ‘I want to speak to the mother again. See if you can get hold of Lawton. Tell her to meet me at the station.’

‘Lawton,’ Harrington said. ‘You know, I think she’s still a virgin.’ Gardner resisted the urge to roll his eyes. ‘She’s just got that look about her, you know.’

‘I think that could be construed as sexual harassment,’ Gardner said.

‘Not if she doesn’t know about it,’ Harrington grinned. Gardner just glared at him. ‘Oh shit,’ he said. ‘You’re not..? Are you?’

‘No, I’m not,’ Gardner said.

‘Shame.’ Harrington fell silent for a few blissful minutes. ‘What about that blonde?’

‘What blonde?’ Gardner asked, his brain flicking through images of women they worked with.

‘The writer. Jen.’

Gardner turned and looked at Harrington. ‘What about her?’

‘If you haven’t already, she’s well up for it. I thought I was in with a chance until you walked in, you bastard. She even gave me her number. Guess there’s no accounting for taste.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Gardner asked, although if he was honest he had noticed it before. Every time they met she’d touched him at least once, though he wasn’t convinced it was entirely personal to him. He got the impression Jen was pretty tactile, to say the least.

‘Come off it,’ Harrington said. ‘You must’ve noticed.’ Gardner just shrugged. ‘Or is it the brunette you’re interested in?’

‘Abby?’ Gardner said. ‘I think that’d be inappropriate, don’t you?’

Harrington leaned back in his seat, stretching. ‘The heart wants what the heart wants. Or at least the dick does.’ He grinned.

Chapter Fifty-Two

Abby and Simon watched as the car drove away.  He led her back into the park and sat her down on the nearest unoccupied bench.

‘Who is she?’ Abby asked.

He stared at the ground for a while, unable to speak, unsure of what to say. He recognised the woman but couldn’t think who she was or where he knew her from. Something about her triggered an uneasy feeling in his gut. Not just that she seemed to be posing as Beth’s mother. Simon felt that he should know her, that she was significant in a way he couldn’t recall.

‘Simon? Who is she?’ Abby said again, turning his face to look at her.

‘I don’t know,’ he said, trying to pull a cigarette free from the pack. ‘I recognise her but I can’t think where from.’ He rubbed his temples and closed his eyes. ‘God!’ He moaned in frustration. ‘I know her.’

Simon looked at Abby, seeing the fear, the concern on her face, and moved closer, putting an arm around her shoulders. He wanted to say something reassuring, some innocuous words that he knew would really mean nothing but at least he would be saying something. But he couldn’t do it anymore. Abby had been right all along. Her actions had been worth it after all. And sitting there by the playground less than an hour earlier he’d allowed himself to think that everything was going to be alright. That they’d work it out and Beth would be returned to them and they’d all live happily ever after. But now that feeling had evaporated and he was left with the stone-cold truth that they weren’t really any closer to getting their daughter back. The fact that they’d seen her meant nothing. They had no proof, nothing to go to the police with, not really. If anything they were worse off. Now Beth was there, had been there right in front of them, but was completely out of their reach. But there was something he could do if only he could remember who that woman was.

Abby picked at the take-away with her fork but hadn’t actually put anything in her mouth for more than twenty minutes. Simon had managed to eat something but she noticed that even he was struggling.  Her mind was full of conflicting thoughts. On the one hand she was overjoyed that Simon had agreed with her. She wasn’t going insane. Her daughter was within reach, finally. But then she knew that it wasn’t that straightforward. How was she going to get Beth back? How would her little girl feel about it? She looked happy. Was Abby even right to want to take her away from that? How would Beth feel about being taken away from everything she’d ever known to be given to two people that were, to her, perfect strangers?

And then there was the woman. Ever since they’d seen her Abby hadn’t been able to get her out of her mind.

Simon knew her.

She’d been pressing him, trying to jog his memory but it wasn’t working and the more she pushed the more he retreated. She kept thinking about him and this woman, wondering how well they’d known each other. He wouldn’t keep it from her, not something this important. But still it bothered her. She wondered if it was the thought of them together, a stupid jealousy. If only. No, what bothered her was the thought that kept sliding to the front of her mind that it was somehow Simon’s fault. He knew the woman who’d stolen their daughter. If it hadn’t been for him maybe she wouldn’t have been taken.

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