would sanction something like this around here without your say-so. Was it someone I locked up? Someone looking for revenge? Going after me is one thing, but to snatch my daughter, it’s … give me a name!’
Demetrios took off quickly, moving back through the doors he’d emerged from, ushering Ray to follow him. Lifting a framed photograph from the corner of the desk, he showed it to Ray. ‘This is my daughter Gabriella. She’s ten now, and lives with her mother and grandparents in Sicily. I miss her every day. I swear on her life, I have no idea who would make a move against you. I would never be involved in something so cruel.’
Ray examined his face, looking for any twitch or hint of deceit. Finding none, his heart sank. ‘Then can you find out who would do it? She’s only two and I’m terrified that …’ He couldn’t finish the sentence, as he struggled to keep his composure. ‘I will do anything to get her back. Any amount of money, I’ll pay it. I just want my daughter back.’
And in that moment, their conflicting backgrounds were forgotten about as they shared the pain and joy of paternity.
‘Leave it with me, detective. I will see what I can find out. And then maybe one day in the future, you can return the favour.’ There was a momentary glint in his eyes as he spoke, but it was gone seconds later. He pressed a buzzer somewhere beneath his desk, and the bouncer returned and led Ray away by the arm.
The sound of urgent banging woke Alex from the few disrupted hours of slumber she’d managed on the sofa when her hours of impatient pacing had yielded no news. Ray’s keys weren’t in their usual spot suggesting he’d never made it home, and as she reached for her phone to check for any news on Carol-Anne, her heart sank to find no messages or missed calls. He may not have verbally blamed her, yet his actions were speaking far louder.
Further banging quickly lifted the fog of drowsiness, and she raced to the front door, yesterday’s suit creased and hanging from her aching body. As she opened the door to see a tall woman in a long skirt and grey cardigan holding her identification aloft, the hope of seeing Carol-Anne bounding towards her faded.
‘I’m PC Isla Murphy,’ the woman in the cardigan said, her silhouette framed by the early morning light. ‘I’m your assigned Family Liaison Officer. You were expecting me, weren’t you? DI Trent said she would phone ahead and tell you I was coming.’
Alex strained her neck to look beyond the woman for any sign of her daughter, but finding an empty and lifeless street, she stepped to one side. ‘You’d better come in,’ she said, allowing Isla to enter before closing the door. ‘Is there any news?’
Isla headed into the kitchen, making a beeline for the kettle and promptly filling it. ‘Tea? Coffee?’
‘Tea,’ Alex said, subconsciously biting at her nails, oblivious that she was chipping yesterday’s coat of polish.
‘Where would I find that? And mugs?’
Alex pointed to the cupboard hanging above the kettle’s stand on the counter.
Isla removed two fresh mugs, depositing teabags in each. ‘Do you take milk and sugar?’
‘Just milk,’ Alex replied, not one who enjoyed being fussed over, yet desperate to keep her only contact with the investigation onside.
‘Have you had breakfast yet?’ Isla asked, while waiting for the kettle to boil.
‘I’m not hungry,’ Alex replied, shaking her head. ‘Please, just tell me what’s happening. Does DI Trent have any new leads? Have they worked out who took my daughter yet? Please, I need something.’
Isla cocked her head sympathetically. ‘I have nothing new I can tell you yet,’ she said. ‘I am due to have a check-in call with Detective Inspector Trent in the next hour, and then hopefully I will be able to provide you with an update. In the meantime, we should get you some breakfast. It’s important to take care of yourself during situations like this. I’ve seen firsthand how the stress takes a grip, and you need to stay strong for your daughter’s sake. There’s no knowing when she is going to need you again, and you’ll be no use to her if you’re exhausted. In my experience the best thing you can do to help us is to eat three square meals per day, get eight hours’ sleep and keep yourself well-hydrated.’
There was something so familiar about Isla. Standing at over six feet tall, her grey hair was scraped back over her head and held in a bun with a grip. The cardigan was the same shade of grey as her hair, and the skin around her face and neck was so pale she looked washed out; like someone had plucked a character from a black-and-white movie and deposited her in a Technicolor universe. Facially she couldn’t have been much older than her late-fifties, but her plain clothes and dour attitude reminded Alex of an old headmistress.
‘I’ll fix you some toast,’ Isla continued, lifting the lid of the bread bin. ‘Butter and jam?’
‘In the fridge,’ Alex said, nodding at the unit in the corner behind the door.
‘I hear your husband is in the force, is that right?’
‘He’s a detective sergeant in Trent’s team. You don’t know him then?’
‘Not personally. Southampton isn’t my regular patch. I’m usually based on the Isle of Wight, but DI Trent requested me specifically to come and be with you.’
‘Why?’
‘I like to think it’s because I’m good at my job,’ Isla said as she dropped two slices of bread into the toaster. ‘I’m here for whatever you need for as long as this takes, Alex. I’m not a spy, as some families choose to believe. I’m here to keep you informed of the investigation’s progress, to answer any of your questions, and to shield you from as much of the stress and drama as I can.’
Isla turned away to make the tea, placing the mug on the breakfast bar in front of Alex when it was ready. When the toast popped up, she spread the butter and jam ferociously, handing the plate over.
Alex dutifully took a bite of the toast, struggling to generate enough saliva to swallow.
‘How did you sleep last night?’ Isla asked, brushing a stray hair from her face.
‘Hardly at all,’ Alex admitted. She wasn’t one who easily shared with strangers, yet Isla struck her as someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer.
‘That’s to be expected. It might be an idea to get your head down for a nap later on this morning or early afternoon. There’s no knowing how long or short the investigation will be, and I should warn you there will be a lot of hanging around waiting for updates. I will do everything in my power to keep you as well informed as I can, and if there is anything specific you want me to ask the investigation team, please tell me and I will make a note of it.’
Alex wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to her next question, but asked anyway. ‘Have you worked on any child abduction cases before?’
Isla studied her face, as she looked for the right words. ‘I have, and before you ask me how many of those cases resulted in the safe return of the child, you should know that no two cases are ever the same. My track record as a Family Liaison Officer has absolutely
