Just Keep Breathing GS Rhodes (top 10 novels of all time .TXT) 📖

“Gosh, yes, horrible business that,” she said softly. “Such a sweet girl, never had a bad word to say about anyone, can’t imagine why...” She trailed off and sniffed. Was she crying? “To take her away? Who would do such a thing?”

Kidd cleared his throat. “It really is an awful business, Ms Lu, but we’re here to figure out her movements prior to her disappearance, try and find her if we can,” he said. He wasn’t in the business of making anybody false promises, but he would certainly do his best to bring her back in one piece. It seemed to placate her a little because she offered him a small smile.

“If you would like to take a seat,” she said, gesturing across to a pair of blue chairs. “I’ll go and grab Ms Chowdhury, she’s the headteacher, wonderful woman, and she will take you through to her office. Won’t be a moment.”

Ms Lu scurried away, leaving DI Kidd and DS Sanchez to sit on the blue cushioned chairs in the reception area. There was a TV screen up in the corner displaying students’ work, a couple of school news items, and reminders for students of the school rules. It felt like a little bit much, and definitely felt out of place in an office that had stagnated over time.

“Can’t believe she thought we were a couple,” DS Sanchez whispered.

“I know,” Kidd grumbled. “I’d rather not think about it if I’m honest.”

“Rude.”

“Excuse me?” He looked at her, incredulous.

“Well, what’s so wrong with the two of us being a couple?” she asked, a twinkle in her eye that told him immediately that she was messing with him. He wasn’t really in the mood to be messed with.

“DI Kidd, DS Sanchez.” The voice caused them to turn their heads towards the door where an Indian woman was standing in a maroon, Hilary Clinton-esque power suit. Her hands her folded neatly in front of her and she was fixing them both with a sweet smile, though it didn’t quite make its way to her eyes. “Sorry to keep you waiting, would you like to come with me?”

She was soft spoken, not the kind of person DI Kidd thought would be a headteacher. The headteachers he had encountered over his years in school were 1) usually men and 2) gruff types who were in positions of power and determined to scare the living daylights out of you with a single, withering stare. Ms Chowdhury seemed the exact opposite of that.

She led them through a door that Ms Lu had to buzz them through, guiding them through a labyrinth of desks to a large, secluded office. There was one window off to the side, large, letting in a huge amount of light. The walls were painted sky blue, relaxing but cold. She gestured to the two seats opposite her desk and took a seat herself, leaning back slightly in front of a wall covered in books, a couple of trophies, and framed certificates.  It looked like she was setting up for a photo-op rather than a discussion.

Kidd took a seat in one of the chairs, immediately sinking down into it. She was seated higher than he was, which he didn’t like, the squashy chair he was in making it almost impossible to get comfortable.

“Ms Lu tells me that you’re here to talk about Sarah Harper?” Her inflection went up at the end like a question, but she knew exactly why they were there. She had to have been expecting them.

“Yes, Ms Chowdhury,” DI Kidd said, struggling to the edge of his seat so he could get somewhat comfortable. He still wasn’t, but at least now his knees weren’t positioned by his ears. “It was reported to us last night that she was missing—”

“Yes, she caused quite a stir when she didn’t show up for school yesterday,” Ms Chowdhury said, stopping short of rolling her eyes, which Kidd found more than a little off-putting. One of her students is missing and she doesn’t seem to care. “I imagine she will show up in a day or two.”

Ben blinked. What is she talking about?

“Do you?” DS Sanchez asked, filling in for Ben’s silence. “What makes you say that?”

Ms Chowdhury smiled, leaning forward in her chair to lock eyes with DS Sanchez. “This isn’t my first rodeo, DS Sanchez,” she said. “And it certainly isn’t Sarah’s.”

“She’s disappeared before?” DI Kidd asked, taking out a notebook and quickly jotting that down.

“This is one in a series of disappearing acts made by Sarah Harper over her years at this school,” Ms Chowdhury said, placing her hand delicately on her mouse and clicking a few times on her desktop. “It happened when she was in Year 9, twice in Year 10, and in Autumn term of Year 11 she had already managed three.”

“She’d vanished three times?”

Someone should have bloody mentioned that, Kidd thought. They were starting to look like amateurs here.

“Like I said, DI Kidd, it’s a habit of hers,” Ms Chowdhury said. “When something happens at school that she doesn’t agree with or she doesn’t get her way, she takes it upon herself to make a dramatic exit and show everyone who’s boss. It’s about control.”

“Is it?” DS Sanchez asked.

“Absolutely,” the headteacher said firmly. “She disappears for a day then returns as if nothing has even happened, her friends fawning over her, any problem she was having miraculously solved.”

“But then, why is this the first time she’s been reported missing?” DI Kidd asked. It didn’t make sense. If Sarah had a habit of vanishing into thin air, why would her parents not have reported it before? “What’s different?”

“That’s what you’re trying to figure out, isn’t it DI Kidd?”

It was a verbal slap that Ben wasn’t expecting. He took a moment to right himself. He hadn’t expected to be battling with the bloody headteacher to get information about Sarah. Though, Ben supposed, she was giving away perhaps a lot more than she thought. It just wasn’t about Sarah.

“Something like that,” he