Miss No One Mark Ayre (children's books read aloud TXT) 📖

"Hello, Gary," she said. "Fancy seeing you here."

"I've been looking for you," he said.

"Let me guess. Your conscience got the better of you. You couldn't sleep for thinking about how you bore false witness. Jesus would be disappointed."

To his credit, Gary hung his head and looked ashamed. Whether because he felt guilty for incriminating Abbie or for making Jesus sad, she couldn't tell. His cheeks flushed, and his neck reddened. But there was something beyond the shame. Something lingering in his eyes. Something he was trying and failing to repress.

"I have a couple of priors," he said. "I was carrying some stuff I shouldn't have had."

"Drugs?" Abbie guessed. Gary looked to the floor again but nodded. No subterfuge there.

"Detective Ndidi said, if I didn’t do what he asked, he’d get a judge to make an example of me. I’d be locked up. They’d throw the book at me.”

As Gary said this last, he flinched and raised his hand as though to protect his face.

"You do realise the book thing's a metaphor, right?" Abbie said.

Gary stared at her, his eyes uncomprehending.

"You do know what a metaphor is?"

Gary's expression twisted into what Abbie guessed was his thinking face. It looked uncomfortable and underused.

"Anyway," she said. "Ndidi promised if you claimed I attacked you and him rather than him attacking you, and if you signed your name to a statement saying the same, he'd ensure you escape jail time?"

Gary nodded. He was a decade or more younger than Abbie. Right then, he looked a decade again younger than that.

"And you chose to trust this man who had wordlessly attacked you an hour before? You chose to sell me out for the man who might have killed you if not for my intervention. That right? Need to get my facts straight."

For the third time, Gary dropped his head. Each time he seemed to droop a little lower. By the fifth or sixth occasion, he'd look like a scarecrow folded at the middle.

"I made a mistake," he said. "I was afraid. Afraid of jail time and afraid of him. I know it ain't right, selling you out, but it was just me and him in a room, and I would have done anything to get out of there."

"I understand," said Abbie. "He got in your face and pushed you for an answer. He laid out the situation and didn't give you time to think about what was right or the implications of your actions."

Nodding like a bobblehead in the wind, he said, "Yeah. Exactly."

"Which was intentional," Abbie continued. "Had he given you time to think, you might have realised there was every chance it was in his best interest to keep you out of jail."

His head snapping towards Abbie's, Gary's eyes widened in confusion.

"Because he wanted to attack you," Abbie continued. "And he can't very well do that if you're locked in a cell, can he?"

Gary's skin paled. Abbie didn't believe he would have worked this out even if Ndidi had given him a year to think over every conceivable possibility. The truth was, Gary wasn't all that bright.

But now he was thinking about it, and he was afraid.

"Why did Ndidi attack you?" Abbie asked.

Having frightened the younger man, Abbie thought he might be well-shaken enough to spill on this topic. But though he met her eyes again and seemed to consider the problem, he eventually shook his head.

"We need to talk,” he said.

"We are talking."

Again, he shook his head. It was clear he wanted to say more, but he appeared to be frozen to the spot, his tongue trapped in his mouth, his voice box closed for business.

He kept looking around. Perhaps Abbie mentioning Ndidi's motives in getting Gary off jail time had not been the wisest move.

Glancing over the frightened man's shoulder, Abbie could still see the parents and adults playing in the park. The time was nearing three in the afternoon. Somewhere, Isabella remained bound and frightened and alone. How long before she decided no one was coming to her rescue? And would she be right?

"This way," said Abbie.

Without explanation, she put a hand under Gary's elbow and led him towards the toilet block. He seemed a little startled by the move but didn't resist nor ask any questions. Abbie didn't need to apply any pressure. She touched his elbow and walked, and he came right along with her.

"I need to know why Ndidi attacked you," she said as they reached the toilet block. They were now beyond the sight of anyone in the park. Abbie didn't intend to do anything to Gary she wouldn't want others to see, but still, better to be on the safe side. Especially seeing as Kilman would soon be pounding the streets, seeking Abbie.

Gary was again shaking his head. That whole lanky form trembling.

"What are you afraid of?" Abbie asked. "If you're worried about Ndidi finding you, I wouldn't. For one thing, I can protect you. For another, he's got other stuff on his mind right now."

"His daughter," Gary whispered.

"Yeah, exactly," said Abbie. She still had her hand on his elbow. As the words slipped from her mouth and realisation clunked into place, she let go. "You know about Isabella?"

The previous night, or early that morning, depending on how you looked at it, police officers Franks and Evans had driven Abbie and Gary to the station. But while Abbie had stayed overnight, Gary had made his false statement and left. By the time Ndidi learned about Isabella, Gary was long gone.

"How do you know?" she said.

He was looking at the grass, at his boots. The trembling hadn't stopped. Maybe instinct had convinced Abbie to lead Gary away from those playing in the park, into the shadow of the toilet block.

If so, instinct had been spot on. When Gary refused to answer or look at Abbie, she grabbed his arms and shoved him against the block wall.

His back then head hit the brickwork, and he cried out. Tears appeared in his eyes.

"Did you