Little Girl Gone: A gripping crime thriller full of twists and turns. Stephen Edger

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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 soft bag of baby toys Alex had packed up to donate to charity. Although this bag did make a variety of noises as he lifted it, none came close to the sound Alex had described. And that’s when his eyes fell on the small open window behind the partly drawn curtains. Moving across to the window, he was about to close it when the noise of two chattering children in school uniforms stopped him.

      Reaching for Alex’s hand he pulled her towards the window and pointed at the two girls in the street. ‘That’s probably all it was: kids on their way to the bus stop.’

      Alex pulled her hand free of his. ‘You think I misheard? It was Carol-Anne,’ she repeated through gritted teeth.

      Ray shook his head sceptically. ‘I know you want to believe that, but how could it be? We’ve all checked and she’s not in her room. Some bastard has taken her, and what you heard was your body’s way of telling you that you’re missing her. I’m sorry, Alex.’

      She stormed from the room, and stomped down the stairs. Ray remained where he was, taking a final glance back around the room, disappointed that he’d allowed Alex’s imagination to let him believe that Carol-Anne was hiding somewhere in the property. To be safe he moved out to the landing, pulled down the loft ladder and, using the torch on his phone, he scoured the floor space, searching behind dusty boxes of Christmas decorations and old photograph albums. He found nothing more than silence and cobwebs.

      Closing the hatch he headed back downstairs, his heart heavy at the prospect of Alex’s previous psychological issues returning en masse. Finding Isla alone in the kitchen, he nodded when she offered to put the kettle on.

      ‘Trent says you’re one of the best FLOs she’s worked with,’ he said to finally break the silence.

      ‘That’s very kind of her. She’s one of the better SIOs I’ve come across,’ Isla smiled back. ‘You couldn’t have asked for someone better to be in charge of your case.’

      ‘Trent said you were dialling into the morning brief; anything to share with us?’

      ‘It was a standard primary briefing, leads they’re going to pursue and that kind of thing. She did also say she wants your permission to appeal to the public.’

      ‘What did Alex say?’

      ‘She gave the go-ahead.’

      ‘Did you tell her to delete her Facebook account?’

      ‘I did. Standard procedure in these circumstances. You should do the same.’

      He grunted. ‘I don’t have time for all that sort of thing. My digital footprint is as clean as they come.’

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