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Book online «Miss No One Mark Ayre (children's books read aloud TXT) 📖». Author Mark Ayre



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flicked on the bedroom's main light.

The shape became a woman and the woman flinched, turning her head towards her chest and squeezing closed her eyes. Her ankles were bound and there was a gag in her mouth. Her wrists were handcuffed, the chain behind the pipe of the radiator, holding her to the wall in a most uncomfortable looking position.

"Hello, Rachel," said Abbie.

Raising her head, Rachel blinked rapidly in the light to adjust her eyes. As she did, Abbie remained perfectly still, framed in the doorway. She waited until the middle, and youngest surviving Becker child met her gaze, then walked in and sat on the bed on the radiator's side.

In this position, Abbie's knees were only a foot or so from Rachel. Had the Becker a mind, she could have swivelled, brought her bound knees towards her chest, and fired her feet at her captor. Clearly a rational woman, Rachel did no such thing. She didn't attempt to attack nor try to speak. The gag would have made communication difficult, but she could have got across a simple message.

Rachel said nothing. She held Abbie's eye and remained static. Not that she had many options in that regard.

"Just a flying visit," said Abbie. "I don't know how much Orion told you, but I think we both know it won't be long before he tries to complete the job he started. I should imagine he intends to have his little sister back in his protective big brother embrace by the time the sun next drops below the horizon."

The eye contact still did not break. Abbie had always known she would step in here and never intended to have a conversation or spout an hour-long monologue.

"A child has been taken," said Abbie. "If you and your brother play fair tomorrow, I'll let you both live. But if anything happens to the girl, I warn you, there will be no mercy. I'll kill you, I'll kill him."

These threats seemed not to concern Rachel in the least. Abbie could have mentioned the bullet she had put in the Becker matriarch, but her aim wasn't to get a rise from her captive. Abbie had come in to get a good look at Orion's younger sister. Photos were never as good as the real thing, and Abbie was convinced, having met Rachel's eye now, she would find it easier to end her life later.

Because Abbie had been lying. When she came face to face with Orion, Abbie's priority would be to save Isabella. Still, she did not intend either Becker sibling to survive the next twenty-four hours. They would meet, and Abbie would finish what the police had started with Quintus, and she had continued with Margaret.

The child would be saved. The Becker clan extinguished.

Rising from the bed, Abbie smiled at Rachel.

"It won't be easy, the position you're in, but I advise you to try and get a few hours sleep. After all, you've a big day ahead."

Using the few duvets, pillows, cushions and throws she had available, Christine had managed to arrange four sleeping stations in the living room. One on the sofa, where she would sleep, and three more on the floor. When Abbie stepped in, it looked as though someone had recently completed a successful game of Tetris. Abbie hated to undo all that.

"I'm sleeping in the hall," she said.

All eyes turned her way. Ana said nothing but Christine questioned the decision, and Ndidi argued against it.

"I don't trust you," he said. "We should all be in here, where we can keep an eye on each other."

Abbie rolled her eyes. "What do you think I'm going to do; run off with Rachel? You're welcome to kip in the bedroom if you're concerned. There's even a bed in there."

Despite the allure of the bed, Ndidi seemed unwilling to share with a convicted murderer. Go figure. After that, Abbie got her way fairly quickly.

No one slept well. It was gone three in the morning when the group got their heads down, but by half seven, they were all up; Christine and Abbie were pouring orange juice and making toast in the kitchen.

Christine had a decent selection of spreads. Abbie and Ariana had Marmite, Ndidi raspberry jam, and Christine marmalade. The homeowner grabbed a second fold-up chair in the bathroom; she and Abbie created something resembling a circle with Ana and Ndidi on the sofa.

The minutes dragged by. There was some stilted conversation, but for the most part, the group sat in silence, browsing the internet on their phones or contemplating the turns their lives had taken.

Bobby occupied Abbie's mind. Over thirty hours ago, she had left him with a warning. He could text while she was gone, but there was every chance he would receive no reply. Abbie had to focus, and in any case, she might not get a chance to check her phone. Still, she had expected a text last night. Something short to tell Abbie he was thinking of her. To say he couldn't wait to see her again. To check she was doing as he had asked: staying safe so she could come back to him.

Maybe that was the problem. Abbie had warned Bobby his messages might go unanswered. Still, perhaps he knew if he texted and Abbie didn't respond, despite her warning, his already worried mind would kick into overdrive. At least if he didn't message, he would only have to deal with the baseline worry levels with which he'd begun.

With this in mind, maybe Abbie should text Bobby. To tell him she was okay. To let him know she missed him and was looking forward to returning to his bed. Although, as it stood, that would actually be her bed, as that's where she'd left him. Yes, a quick text was her best course of action.

Only every time Abbie unlocked her phone and navigated to her message stream with Bobby, something stopped her. At first, she believed this to be a faceless, nameless, unknowable something,

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