Saving Sophie: A compulsively twisty psychological thriller that will keep you gripped to the very last page. Sam Carrington
sorry … I’m not much use,’ she stumbled, her face flushed. ‘I can’t … I can’t really remember.’ She hung her head, didn’t make eye contact.
‘You were the last person to see her, by all accounts,’ the man who had introduced himself as Detective Sergeant Mack said. Her shoulders fell, folding in on themselves like collapsing cards. The last person to see her. The words hung, suspended like an accusation in the air.
‘Um … actually I don’t think I was.’ Sophie fumbled with her mobile, then held it up towards the detective. ‘Here, see.’ The text from Dan saying they’d lost Amy and Erin way before the club. ‘But that was after they’d put me in a taxi, so he must’ve seen her after me. And Tom. He said Amy put me in a taxi. There’s another text from him … saying that she told him about it.’ Sophie dropped her head again. Her words – practically finger-pointing, like a child not wanting to get the blame for something broken – her eagerness to ensure DS Mack didn’t think she was the last one to see Amy shocked her. This was one of her best friends they were talking about. She was missing at best. Dead at worst. Why did she feel so numb; so distanced? Amy could be dead, but she didn’t feel the horror, the devastation she imagined she should feel in this kind of situation. Why?
‘Hmmm.’ DS Mack’s brow furrowed. He held the phone up briefly and locked eyes with Sophie. ‘I’m going to have to take this.’ He bagged it, placing it beside him – all without breaking his gaze.
Sophie’s face coloured. She opened her mouth to protest, but knew it was pointless so shut it again.
‘Could Amy have got into the taxi with you?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t remember.’ It’s all she could say. All she’d been saying for the past twenty-four hours. The room fell silent, but the atmosphere was loud with tension. Sophie looked to her parents, her eyes pleading. She knew there was nothing either her mum or dad could say to help. They’d gone over the events of the night: the police bringing her home, the state she was in, her incoherent ramblings. They’d asked how come the police hadn’t thought anything was wrong then. DS Mack said there was no evidence at the time that anything untoward had happened. She was a drunken girl who’d been parted from her friends. She didn’t have any marks on her, no signs of any struggle. She didn’t tell them there had been any problem. She just appeared drunk.
Now though, things had changed. This had developed into a serious situation. A body had been found in Coleton. One matching Amy’s description. Questions needed to be asked, answers needed to be found.
‘Does Liz know?’ Sophie tried to break the silence, utter anything to move this on. ‘Amy’s mum?’
‘She has been informed.’ DS Mack shifted position on the sofa, which seemed to have swallowed his middle, making him look like he was all head and legs. ‘Amy has yet to be formerly identified. The parents are on their way to do that now.’
‘Terrible … I can’t imagine …’ her dad mumbled, shaking his head. Sophie caught her mum shooting him an I told you look. She had obviously been right to be worried, right to think the worst. A chill ran through her. Murdered? How had this happened in the sleepy market town of Coleton? It wasn’t like London, that kind of thing was expected there. She’d always thought of Devon as dull and full of old people. Yes, she’d heard her mum going on about those she dealt with at work: the criminals she’d supervised, men who’d committed some terrible offences – murder, even. But not committed here. Not her home town. She knew there were nasty people, her mum had been a victim herself, but despite her harping on to Sophie about her worries that something bad had happened Saturday night, even she hadn’t uttered the word murder.
‘I don’t understand.’ Her mum sat upright, suddenly animated. ‘If the … body … if Amy, hasn’t been identified, then it might not be her, so why—’
‘Until we get confirmation, it’s still a missing person case,’ DS Mack jumped in, ‘so we need to get statements from those who last saw Amy, regardless.’
‘Right. Okay.’ She slumped back. Sophie watched as the hope drained from her mother’s face.
But, there was still hope. Sophie had to cling to that. It might not be Amy. She’d hold on to the optimism for as long as possible. Because the alternative was too horrific to contemplate.
The shrill tone of Sophie’s mobile message notification cut through the room. DS Mack turned his head and picked up the plastic bag containing the phone. His eyebrows raised as he spoke: ‘You’ve got a text.’ He tilted his head, ‘From a Dan.’ He flipped through his notebook. ‘Would that be Dan Pearce by chance?’
‘Yes. Why?’ Her words came out sharply. Sophie noted a look passing between DS Mack and her mum. Her mum had cocked her head to one side. Sophie looked away.
‘His name is on our list … and he is the Dan you said may have been last to see Amy. Yes?’
‘Uh, yes, that’s him.’ A rushing sensation filled her ears.
‘Shall we take a look then, see what he has to say?’ He was already undoing the bag, slipping the phone out.
‘Clearly you’re going to anyway.’
‘Sophie!’ Her dad leant forwards. ‘Watch your tone.’ He flashed Sophie his angry stare.
DS Mack struggled to stand, the sofa not ready to give him up, then handed Sophie the phone. He stood over her while she opened the text.
Come outside.
This wasn’t good timing. She held it up to the detective so he could see.
‘We’ll need to speak with him, so perhaps you could text him, tell him to come inside.’ He smiled, but stood firm. He watched as she texted.
A few minutes passed, Dan didn’t reply. He didn’t come to the door.
DS Mack retook the mobile from her. ‘I’ll let you go out and find him, then.’ He peered out of the front window into the duskiness beyond, then perched on the edge of the sofa. Sophie took her cue and jumped up before DS Mack changed his mind and went outside to get Dan himself.
She’d escaped. A temporary reprieve. Her mum had begun crying, her dad pacing; she was numb. The claustrophobia had been almost too much to bear, she’d felt herself on the edge of breaking down. Outside, the coldness of the early evening air acted as a refresher, triggering a reaction, making her thighs shake, and hands tremble. She drew some deep lungfuls of breath. In … out, in … out. She’d seen her mother do this a lot for the past two years to quell her panic attacks. Was this what it felt like for her?
Sophie sat heavily on the dwarf red-brick wall partitioning their house from the neighbour’s, waiting for Dan to show. Her street only had five other houses: two directly opposite, one either side of theirs and one at the end of the road on the corner. But, she could guarantee that each occupant was currently ogling out of their windows, trying to figure out what was going on. She was surprised that Bill, the nosey bugger from number twenty, hadn’t come across to ask – as the self-appointed Neighbourhood Watch lead he liked to know the ins and outs so he could inform the rest of Ambrook. He was going to have a field day with this.
‘Hey, Soph, you all right?’ Dan appeared from behind her car.
‘How long have you been there?’ Sophie raised herself up and went towards him.
‘Saw the police car. What’s going on?’ Dan’s angular face showed patchy red blotches, the way it always did when he was nervous. A flash of suspicion shot through her mind: he lived in Torquay, didn’t drive – how had he got here? And why was he hanging around outside her house?
‘They’re here about Amy.’ Her voice,