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

it’s missing.’ Owen paused and squeezed Ray’s arm. ‘We’ll get her back, mate. You have to let us do what we do best.’

      Ray wasn’t listening, his imagination already working through a list of suspects who would want to see him suffer such cruelty. He’d locked up his fair share of villains over the years, but none who would devise a revenge as complex as snatching a child from an open car park. Yet what else did that leave?

      For now he needed answers from the only witness at the scene. Making his way to the patrol car, he climbed into the back, unable to bring himself to meet Alex’s eyes.

      ‘You said you looked away for thirty seconds at most.’

      The confusion on Alex’s face revealed she hadn’t been expecting this to be his opening gambit. ‘It’s true.’

      Ray shook his head, hating himself, yet unable to stop the words leaving his lips. ‘Thirty seconds from the car to the machine without looking at the car. Then twenty seconds initially until the alarm sounds, and then another fifty seconds buying your ticket. Almost two minutes where you weren’t watching our daughter.’

      ‘No, Ray, it couldn’t have been that long—’

      ‘I’ve seen the security footage! How could you be so reckless, Alex?’ He still couldn’t meet her gaze as he uttered the words, feeling her pain as much as his own.

      ‘I-I-I,’ she began, unable to string together the words needed to explain her actions.

      ‘I’m going to have you driven home,’ he continued, not prepared to listen to anything more she had to say; at least not yet. The pain burned deep in his chest, and to remain in her presence would only lead him to say something he would later regret.

      ‘I see you’re smoking again,’ she said bitterly, as if trying to strike back.

      It was like waving a red rag at a bull. Turning, he glared at her, pointing his finger just inches from her face. ‘You have no right to judge me for anything right now.’

      And with that, he climbed out, wanting to hug his wife and tell her everything would be okay, and equally wanting to berate her for losing their daughter. Lighting a second cigarette, he stalked off into the darkness.

       7

      ‘I don’t want to go home,’ Alex growled as Owen watched her from the front of the car. ‘Let me help search for her. I’m her mother, and she needs me.’

      It wasn’t Owen’s fault, he’d been told to drive her home. As far as DI Trent was concerned, they’d taken and questioned Alex’s statement, and now she was just getting in the way of their investigation.

      ‘Someone will call as soon as there is any news,’ Owen tried to reason, but calming highly strung women clearly wasn’t one of his strengths.

      ‘Wherever she is, she’ll be frightened because I’m not there. She’s never spent a night without me nearby. Even when Ray puts her to bed, I still kiss her goodnight. There hasn’t been a single night when I haven’t held her close and kissed her.’ She didn’t like the look of pity shrouding the young detective’s face.

      ‘What about a public appeal?’ she blurted. ‘You could put her picture on the news and tell everyone in the city to look out for her. Or the radio? Maybe I could speak to the local radio and put her description out there. Maybe someone would come forward and say they’ve seen her.’

      She couldn’t keep the desperation from her voice, nor could she sit idly by and wallow anymore. A time for grieving might come eventually, but while she could still feel Carol-Anne’s life force, she would keep fighting.

      She was fighting a losing battle as far as Owen was concerned, though. His DI had ordered him to drive Alex home and no amount of reasoning or valid arguments would deflect him from that course of action.

      ‘Can I get you anything?’ Owen asked, as he pulled into the driveway and killed the engine.

      Alex didn’t answer, instead staring out the window at the big brick building that had never looked so alien to her. If it wasn’t for a slight recognition, she would have said he’d brought her to somebody else’s house. With no lights on, and the curtains open, the building looked unloved and abandoned. Hadn’t it been a loving home? Carol-Anne had known she was loved by both her parents, right?

      ‘I could pick up a takeaway for you,’ Owen continued, watching her from the mirror. ‘Or if you need me to go to the shop, then—’

      ‘Thanks, I’ll be fine,’ Alex replied, avoiding eye contact. She was determined not to cry in front of him. The rest of the journey home had been filled with awkward silence; awkward because she didn’t feel like engaging, and he clearly hadn’t known what to say to someone experiencing a living grief.

      She clamped her eyes shut as her fingers brushed against the door handle, but they refused to coil around it, her body fighting against going in and her worst fears being realized. Even though Ray had already confirmed Carol-Anne wasn’t at home, to see it with her own eyes would be to finally admit that her daughter was gone, maybe never to return, and the weight of that would crush her soul.

      ‘Is there anybody I can call to be with you?’ Owen asked.

      With no brothers or sisters, Alex’s circle of friends had dwindled since she’d given up work to be a full-time mum, and although her social media feeds listed dozens of ‘friends’, there was no one she would want to see now. Sophie was her closest friend these days; even so, she didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of Alex’s current emotional state.

      She shook her head, forcing her fingers around the plastic handle.

      ‘I think DI Trent said she’s assigning a Family Liaison Officer to support you. I can wait until she arrives if you’d like?’

      There was desperation in his voice, but it suited her best to decline the offer, much to Owen’s evident relief. Pushing the door open, she stepped out into the cool and damp air. The rain had stopped and the atmosphere made it clear a reprisal could be imminent at any time. Reaching into her handbag she removed her house key, grimacing at the ‘World’s Best Mum’ key ring that dangled between her fingers. It was all she could do to stop herself tearing it off and throwing it to the gutter.

      Owen was still in the car, waiting for her to enter, so as she pushed the door open, she waved without looking, then pushed the door closed with her bottom before crumpling to the floor, her head in her hands.

      She couldn’t have been there for more than a few minutes when there was a gentle knocking at the door. Had Owen heard her wailing and come to check on her? That was the last thing she needed: the pitying look of her husband’s colleague.

      Or maybe Ray had finally come to his senses and had come home to offer the support she needed. Wiping her face with the backs of her hands, she forced herself up and took several deep breaths to compose herself, before pulling the door open.

      ‘Oh you are home,’ the woman on the doorstep said cheerily, clutching a bottle of white wine. ‘I wasn’t sure as your car isn’t in the drive and all the lights are off. Have you just got home?’

      Alex frowned at her friend. ‘Sophie? What are you …?’

      Sophie’s puzzled expression mirrored Alex’s. ‘It’s Tuesday night? You said Ray was going out to play squash and I should come over for a girly catch-up. Sorry, am I too early? You did say come after seven.’

      The memory fired to the front of Alex’s mind. ‘It’s Wednesday.’

      Alex studied Sophie’s face. Her elfin-like bob curled at the fringe, and despite the bright choice of eye shadow, she wore little other make-up to accentuate her high cheekbones and silky-smooth skin.

      ‘Yes, it’s Wednesday, silly! Oh, and before