The Vanishing Girls Callie Browning (interesting books to read .TXT) 📖

Eileen's mouth soured. "If lying to someone for their whole life constitutes a bad secret, then it's abhorrent."

Holden raised an eyebrow, his expression grave as he contemplated her words.

Eileen sighed. “I had a friend who kept telling me it’s not that bad. I could do it for a few months until I got back on my feet. Let’s just say that we’re no longer friends. I regret doing it now.” She bit her lip and shook her head. “There aren't a whole lot of choices for females out there. Which is kind of obvious given that these women were killed because they’re desperate for jobs,” she added soberly. “By comparison, being afraid of the dark is something I can get over.”

Holden thought quietly for a moment before nodding his head. “Start with the little fears and the big fears fall in line. Even people like my father had their share of doubts about their ability. He once confessed that he almost didn’t start the business.”

Eileen tried to remember a time when the peach building hadn't served as a landmark. She couldn't imagine a world without Davis and Sons.

“What did he do?”

“He said that he learned the hard way that fear wasn’t his friend. He said you’ve gotta kick it in the nuts and chase it away.”

The man’s wisdom was on point as usual. “What's your fear?” Eileen asked.

“I can’t think of any.” Holden shrugged.

The car jerked to a stop as Eileen pressed the brakes in the middle of the field.

“Want to drive?”

Holden looked at her and then the steering wheel as though trying to connect the dots. "But I haven't driven in a long time."

"Because?"

He was about to respond when he stopped himself and looked at her. The moon had come up, full and round in the sky, and dusted everything in sight with pale light.

His laugh was sardonic as he muttered, "'Son, everything you’ve ever wanted is on the other side of fear’."

To Eileen’s surprise, he got out, walked around the car and waited until she climbed over the handbrake before sliding behind the wheel and shifting the car into drive. Hesitation and doubt evaporated and Holden looked like a brand new man behind the wheel, one prepossessed of himself and his capabilities. At the end of the cane field, he turned the car onto the road, his capable hands manoeuvering the car through the village and toward the highway. They drove past shops, small chattel houses and men playing road tennis under a streetlight.

“Do you want me to take you home?” Holden asked.

Eileen bit her lip, her mind warring with itself as she considered the implications. Did he want to spend the night at her house? She pursed her lips and said slowly, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“It’s late; you shouldn’t go home alone given the current climate. I can drive you there and come back in the morning to take you to work.”

“Oh…yes…that would be very nice.”

Damned him for being such a gentleman, she silently fumed as he followed her directions.

“I’m sorry about Paul,” said Holden as the wind whipped through the windows. “He was a full ass tonight.”

Eileen’s cheeks coloured; she had pretended not to hear his floozy comment, but her ruse wasn’t fooling Holden.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I have to worry about it. Paul has been getting away with murder for years and it's got to stop. Everything with him is pure luck. Do you know that he signed up for the Vietnam war and they called it off before he even got a uniform?”

“That is lucky,” Eileen agreed as she turned his words over in her mind.

"You're telling me."

“Now that you’ve mentioned your brother…” Eileen cleared her throat, trying to frame her words carefully. “…I had the chance to talk to the young man in the scrubs. He’s Grenadian and he’s studying at the medical school here.”

Holden raised an eyebrow. “So what’s his relationship to them ?”

“He’s the victim’s cousin and he said something interesting when we were chatting.”

“Oh.” Holden’s interest piqued.

“He said she was heading to a job interview.”

Holden smacked the steering wheel. “We’re definitely on the right path.”

“As a matter of speaking,” Eileen said slowly before she cleared her throat. “He went to a study group in the north, and when she got off the bus, a black car was waiting for her. He couldn’t see the driver, but he said the car was fancy.”

“What did he mean by ‘fancy’?”

Eileen looked Holden in the eye. “He pointed to Paul’s car.”

Chapter 20

The Reckoning

Maybe telling him wasn’t the best idea, Eileen reflected the next day. She should have known that Holden wouldn’t race to the nearest police station and have his brother clapped in irons. But on the other hand, his brooding anger didn’t seem like a natural progression either.

He’d left the car at her house and taken a taxi home, choosing to wait outside in the verandah as he stewed silently in the humid night air. By the time Eileen got to work the next morning, Holden had been there long enough to drink two entire pots of Earl Grey, evidenced by the mound of used tea bags in the bin. His tone was clipped as he dictated two letters before he left work long before lunchtime. She bit her lip. In the months she’d been there, Holden had seldom left on time, far less early.

She'd always heard that blood was thicker than water but Eileen was an orphan; she had never been forced to test the theory. Almost every story Holden told involved Paul flouting rules with impunity. Holden had said it himself: his brother was accustomed to getting away with murder. What if it was literal this time?

Her feelings for Holden warred with her disgust and fear for Paul and it left her stomach in knots. If she could gather enough evidence to implicate Paul she would ensure that he faced the consequences of his actions, because there was a good chance that he was the culprit. Not only did