However, all readers - sooner or later - find for themselves a literary genre that is fundamentally different from all others. Missing by Adam Nicholls (top e book reader .TXT) đź“–
- Author: Adam Nicholls
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Book online «Missing by Adam Nicholls (top e book reader .TXT) 📖». Author Adam Nicholls
“Are you working with the police?”
“Have you exchanged words with Mr. Carter?”
The noise was unbearable. The last thing Mason needed now was his face all over the media. Was this a backlash of having Owen make press statements? Had his name been dropped without his knowledge?
Mason finally reached the door and had to squeeze through, covering his face to prevent more photos of him. The more he was exposed, the more danger he’d put his family in.
“Where the hell have you been?” Bill was inside, storming toward him with a phone in his hand and Christine awkwardly smiling behind him. “I’ve been trying to call you.”
Mason knew that tone. “What’s happened?”
“Those missing twins? One of them was found running down Elmgrove. She was struck by a car, but she’s okay.”
He should have been overjoyed that one of them had been recovered, but that was just it… “Only one of them?”
“The daughter, Kylie. She was screaming her head off, something about how her brother was being buried under the Golden Gate Bridge.”
“Have you had it searched?”
“Every square inch, but nothing’s turned up. The killer probably hightailed it out of there as soon as the girl got away.”
Mason rubbed his palms over his eyes and took a deep breath. Was the boy dead, or had he gotten away, too? “All right. So where’s the girl now?”
Bill grabbed his coat from the hook and slid his arms inside. “At the hospital. Come on, we’ll take your car.” He turned to Christine. “I’m sorry you have to put up with the cameras, honey. Just keep the doors and blinds closed. Call me if you need anything.”
Mason opened the door, and they headed for the car, battling through another assault of unanswerable questions. They got in and dashed to the hospital, where Kylie Carter lay unconscious. Mason felt like a monster for having to extract information from her, but if she was able to talk, he’d need to hear everything she had to say.
Evie had drawn the drapes and not seen a shred of daylight since. With a pillow as her cuddle companion, she had no further reason to leave the couch. Even her laptop remained in the corner, unused.
The news was playing on the TV—something about a false Val Salinger sighting in Paris—but she paid it no mind. Instead, she continued to stare at an open book, the page unturned in a long time.
All she could think about was Mason, and how she’d let him down. Evie tried to convince herself she wouldn’t have been much use to him anyway, but she knew it was far from the truth. Without her counsel he would go off the rails, like he had before he’d met Sandra—a rapid downward spiral into alcoholism.
The news report moved on to the next story, and Evie’s ears pricked up. It was the voice of her brother, saying “no comment” as he shoved through a crowd of journalists. Watching them now, she cringed at the idea she used to be one of them.
Such insensitive pricks.
Mason looked different, there was no denying that. He looked scruffier, his skin paler and his cheeks unshaven. The darkening bags under his eyes spoke volumes.
Evie wanted to help him, but what about Amelia? She just couldn’t risk letting any harm come to her. So, what else was there to do?
Well, she thought, there is one thing…
It was a bad idea. A terrible idea, really. She’d be breaking the law. But if it was for a good cause, perhaps she could justify it. If it would allow her to continue providing information to her brother, and vice versa, then why shouldn’t she do it? Besides, there would be no written proof—it was more of a verbal arrangement.
Evie sat upright, sniffed her armpits, and tugged on her hair. She then threw on something warm and grabbed her keys. It was an exhilarating feeling, like the one you get when you’re spending money on something you know you can’t afford.
Stumbling in the dark, she quickly opened her laptop and confirmed the address hadn’t changed, then headed for the door with her nerves in tatters.
I can’t believe I’m doing this after all these years.
They soon arrived at the hospital to meet a relieved but distressed Owen Carter.
“How are you, sir?” Mason asked, noting the red-raw eyes.
“I don’t know what to think. I’m so pleased to see Kylie again, but I can’t stop thinking about where Ryan is.”
“How is she?” Bill asked as they moved from the waiting room into the corridor.
“A few bumps and scratches. She woke up a half hour ago. I told her you were coming.”
Mason felt useless. He kept walking with his head up and his hands buried in the pockets of his trench coat.
When they reached the door, Owen lowered his voice. “Please don’t put too much of a strain on her. She’s as scared as I am.”
“Just relax. She’s going to be fine.” Mason entered the room, shutting Bill and the girl’s father out. The truth was, he was just as concerned about what he might hear.
Inside, a machine was beeping and a girl lay prone in a bed across the room. Her skin was bruised like a peach, her appearance nothing like her picture now. A cast covered her arm, and a lost expression adorned her face.
“Kylie, my name’s Mason Black. I’m the lead investigator assigned to your case.”
The girl looked at him and blinked big hazel eyes. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Mason realized he was staring. He snapped himself from his trance and pulled a chair over beside her bed. “I’m here to ask you some questions. You don’t have to answer them all, but the more you tell me, the better chance I have of finding your brother.”
The girl nodded and winced. The car must have hit her at quite a speed.
He took the cell phone from his pocket and showed her the photo from the National Park. “Is this the man who abducted you?”
Kylie squinted her eyes at the dark and blurry picture. “I think so.”
“Great. And did you happen to see any distinguishing features? A tattoo, a scar, anything like that?” Mason already felt he was putting too much on her. But she was a brave girl, and it seemed she could handle it.
Kylie thought for a moment. “No. Oh, but he wore gloves the whole time.”
There it was again. What was it about the gloves? “The whole time?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, her voice weak. “Even in the RV, which was pretty warm.”
Mason was just about to ask that question. Knowing this was how he’d been taking the children, his chances of finding the killer had improved. It seemed they only had to find the RV, and they would find their guy. “Can you describe the contents of the RV? Did he have any possessions or framed photographs that stood out? Files? Books?”
“No, nothing like that. It was… metal.”
“Metal?”
The girl licked her lips. “It was like a metal box in the back. The walls, the floor. Everything.”
“Like a box?”
“Yes.” A tear rolled down the girl’s cheek and hit her pillow. “The man was so angry when I ran. Before that, he just seemed happy, I guess.”
Mason was confused. “Excuse me, you said he seemed happy?”
“No,” she said. “I mean, when I mentioned money he wanted to listen. I think.”
Although it sent a chill through Mason, maybe this was a good thing. Now he knew the boy’s father was wealthy, their chances of receiving a ransom note had raised considerably.
“Mr. Black, will my brother be okay?”
Mason didn’t want to lie, but he could hardly tell her the truth. “I’m doing everything I can.” The truth of it was, he had no idea. “Thank you for your time, Kylie. I have to go and do some work. I’ll send your father in.”
“Be careful,” she called after him as he went for the door. “The bad man hates you.”
Perspiration brewed under his collar, heat searing his skin as if from nowhere. Mason stopped dead in his tracks. “He talked about me?”
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