Little Girl Gone. Stephen Edger

Little Girl Gone - Stephen Edger


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the car she’d been shepherded to. Couldn’t he see how much she needed him right now? Couldn’t they just temporarily forget all the arguments and focus on supporting each other? Isn’t that what relationships were all about? Wasn’t that what they’d promised on their wedding day?

      Maybe it was just more evidence of his infidelity. She had no doubt he’d loved her once, but in reality they’d been going through the motions for months. The miscarriage had stolen more than just their unborn child.

      If she was right about the real reason he was avoiding her, what did that mean for their future together? She’d seen it when she’d explained what had happened. That look, so subtle, yet so apparent to someone who had shared so many tender moments with him.

      He thought she was lying.

      As the minutes continued to disappear into the mire of history, even she was beginning to question her version of events. Had Carol-Anne definitely been in the car? Or had Alex’s fragile psyche snapped and her mind created the memory to cover up the truth? After what had happened at that park in Manchester, she knew it was a possibility, yet the memory was so real. She couldn’t have fabricated Carol-Anne giggling, could she? And if she had, where the hell was Carol-Anne now? Already Ray had been home and confirmed she wasn’t there.

      ‘You’re not crazy,’ Alex muttered under her breath, failing to convince even herself. ‘You’re not crazy,’ she said, firmer this time.

      She felt numb to the anxiety now. Troubled thoughts continued to flood her mind, each one like a paper cut, inflicting pain; eventually they would kill her. Her pulse and heartbeat had slowed drastically, as her body subconsciously came to terms with the prospect that there was nothing she could do to fix this terrible occurrence. The pill she’d found in the bottom of her handbag had probably helped, the last of her prescription from Dr Kirkman. Maybe that was why the scene outside the car was occurring in slow motion despite the minutes on the clock passing so quickly.

      At least Ray hadn’t blamed her yet. He had to be thinking it behind those dark brooding eyes of his; however he hadn’t uttered the words, and she appreciated that. Carrying the guilt was hard enough, and having him to share the burden was a blessing. She wished he was sitting in the car with her now, but Ray wasn’t someone who could just sit on the sidelines and watch the game unfold. Especially not where Carol-Anne was concerned. He needed to be involved, even though he would probably be assigned to other duties as the full investigation launched. For now, at least, his DI was allowing him to observe.

      The driver’s door opening snapped her back to reality. The woman who took the seat was older than Alex, and with a slender frame and taut shoulders, she carried a confidence suited to her role.

      ‘Alex? I’m Detective Inspector Serena Trent,’ the woman said, extending her hand. ‘I’ve read the statement you gave earlier, and I’m hoping you can clarify a few points for me.’

      Alex nodded, her pulse already quickening.

      ‘In the statement you said you had to wait for that particular space?’

      Alex nodded again, terrified that the detective could read her mind.

      ‘Did you speak to the woman whose space you took?’

      Alex coughed, and when she spoke sounded croaky. ‘Briefly, just to check she was leaving.’

      ‘And can you describe what this woman looked like?’

      Alex frowned. ‘I don’t remember.’

      ‘Hair colour? Eye colour?’

      The only thing she could remember was that bright yellow umbrella. She wasn’t even sure they’d spoken anymore.

      ‘Did she have any other distinguishing features? Glasses, distinctive nose, anything like that?’

      Alex stared blankly back at her, too exhausted to cry again.

      ‘Can you remember the make and model of her car? Or any part of the registration plate?’

      Alex watched DI Trent. Was she being serious? Did she really think the woman with the yellow umbrella had taken Carol-Anne? Was that even possible? Alex had seen the SUV pull away, but had it actually exited the car park? What did Trent know that she didn’t?

      ‘Alex? I said, can you remember the make or model of the car?’ Trent repeated.

      Alex shook her head, staring down at her hands as they scratched at the scars on her wrists.

      ‘Given the proximity of her departure and your dash to the ticket machine, she could be a potential witness. It would be good if we can identify her in case she saw anyone strange hanging about the place.’

      Alex raised her head, considering the woman before her, in whom she was expected to put all her trust. Ray had mentioned Trent’s name in passing, although he’d never said how attractive she was. The skin around her eyes wasn’t as smooth as her neck, and she didn’t look as old as Alex was certain she was. Her face bore little by way of make-up, and her bleached hair seemed to hang effortlessly, without need of grips or spray.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ Alex eventually said.

      Trent narrowed her eyes. ‘And there was a second woman you interacted with too?’

      Alex blushed at the memory.

      ‘In your statement you said you thought she might have taken your daughter,’ Trent encouraged.

      ‘I thought I heard Carol-Anne’s voice.’

      Trent watched her in silence for a moment. ‘I’m going to apologize in advance for my next question, but I need to know, Alex, have you taken any pills or consumed any alcohol today?’

      Alex ground her teeth, her nails scratching feverishly. ‘No.’

      ‘Are you taking any medication, prescribed or otherwise?’

      How could she know about that? Surely Ray hadn’t told his boss what they had been through this past year? If he had, it would explain why Trent was looking at her so strangely.

      Trent ran a hand over her face, as if wiping away the guilt of having to ask the question. ‘It’s a strange case for me to be involved with – knowing Ray so well – and vicariously knowing you through his eyes.’

      The hairs on the back of Alex’s neck tingled. ‘What’s he said?’

      Trent raised her hands in a calming gesture. ‘Nothing bad. As his superior I’m obviously aware of what you both went through a few months ago, and—’

      ‘My miscarriage has nothing to do with this.’

      ‘I’m not saying it has, Alex, I just meant I know the pressure the two of you have been under, and stress can do strange things; the mind can play tricks.’

      ‘I didn’t imagine this! Someone took my daughter.’ For the first time Alex wanted to believe the words, even if Trent would take more convincing.

      ‘Our Scene of Crime specialists have been searching for forensics in and around your car, and so far they’ve not found anything to suggest anybody else had access to the car. The only prints on the rear door handle are a match to your own, presumably created fresh today when you put Carol-Anne in the back of the car. What’s also odd is they’ve found no loose hairs anywhere in the back of the car; has it been cleaned recently?’

      It had been at the garage for a service yesterday, but what did that have to do with this?

      ‘Do you keep a spare key for the vehicle at home?’ Trent continued.

      Alex nodded.

      ‘Does anyone else have access to your home who might have used the key to get to Carol-Anne in the back?’

      ‘I unlocked the car when the alarm went off.’

      Trent smiled thinly. ‘We have to consider the possibility that whoever took your daughter came here with that intention. We have to investigate


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