Behind Shadows: A Psychological Mystery Thriller (The Adam Stanley Series Book 1) (3 page)

The woman's eyebrows knitted, confusion flashing across her face. "I don't know how to say this, but I just saw a woman I would swear was you leave with the little girl you described, not five minutes ago."

***

I couldn't believe what she was telling me and I felt my legs buckle.

Jane gripped my arm and I leaned against her. "I'll make some calls and alert everyone she's missing. In the meantime, you need to go over to the information centre at the zoo’s entrance. I'll make sure they're expecting you," she said. "I'd take you myself but I'll have to wait for somebody to relieve me."

"No, no. That's fine. Thanks for all your help." I raced back to Michael, unsure how my legs still held me upright. The tightness in my chest made it hard to breathe.

Michael was chatting on his phone. When he noticed me, he ended the call.

"Michael, Michael, Emma's gone!" The words left me in a breathy rush.

"Calm down, Amanda!" He jumped to his feet, grabbed me by the upper arms and shook me roughly.

Our raised voices woke Jacob, who began to scream, which he always did if woken too soon.

"I can't f-f-find Emma. The girl said a woman took her."

"What do you mean 'took her'? Was she crying?"

"No, no. I don't think so. She didn't say Emma was upset."

"Okay, let's not panic. I'm sure she'll be okay. Now, tell me again, what happened?" Michael's face had drained of all colour.

"We have to go to the information centre first, I'll tell you on the way."

I told him everything, all the while running towards the zoo's entrance. I had my eyes peeled for a blond woman in a bright red jacket. The knot in my stomach was so big it felt like a ton weight.

I couldn't believe this was happening. I'd always prided myself on being vigilant when it came to my kids. I never let them out of my sight. I cursed myself for answering the bloody phone in the first place.

By the time we reached the information centre, I felt like a nervous wreck.

Michael spoke to the woman at the counter who was, as Jane had said, expecting us. She wrote down some details before getting on the walkie-talkie and giving a description of our beautiful little girl.

An older lady with short blond hair led me into a small room at the back of the office. She made me a cup of sweet tea, as though this kind of thing happened all the time.

"She'll be fine, love. They get so excited that they don't even think to check you're still beside them. Before long she'll realise you're not there and start to cry and then a member of staff will locate her. You'll see." She placed the cup on the desk in front of me. "There you go, sweetie, now get that down you."

I hoped and prayed she was right. Just then, a voice came over the walkie-talkie confirming they'd found a little girl answering Emma's description in the aquarium. Relief flooded through me. I held on to the arms of the chair to steady myself, taking deep breaths, tears pooled in my eyes again.

Emma's cries reached my ears as soon as I entered the aquarium. Michael was close behind me, pushing Jacob.

"Mummy," she squealed, running to me.

I dropped to the floor and hugged her, both of us sobbing. My breathing was rapid and harsh.

"Naughty, Mummy!" she scolded.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I didn't mean to lose you. I was on the phone." I wiped her eyes and straightened her hair. "Come on, let's go home."

Michael stood at the entrance looking over at us, the relief was evident on his face. I smiled at him and he nodded his head and gave me a tight-lipped half smile.

I hugged the attendant who had found her. "Thank you so much. I imagined all kinds of things had happened to her."

"Don't worry." The middle-aged woman hugged me back. "It happens all the time. It's easily done with all the crowds."

"Did you see anybody with her?" I asked, dropping my voice so Emma couldn't hear.

She shook her head. "No. She was alone, crying for her mummy. Why do you ask?"

My stomach dropped to the floor at the thought of my daughter wandering around calling for me. "The girl in the insect house said she left with a woman who was dressed the same as me!"

She shook her head, her face screwed up in a ‘no-I-don't-think-so’ way. "She was probably just mistaken. Maybe she noticed the two of you together earlier and got confused. Don't worry, your daughter's safe now, and I don't think she'll wander off again anytime soon."

We walked back to the station subdued. Emma, her bag now hanging on the pushchair, dragged her little legs, scuffing her feet on the ground.

"Don't do that, Em. You'll ruin your new shoes."

She lifted her feet higher but continued walking in a lazy way as if the fright had zapped all her energy.

Once we were back on the tube, and we'd all calmed down, I decided to have a chat with Emma about the dangers of wandering off.

"But I didn't, Mummy. You did."

"I told you, darling. I stepped to the side of the room to answer my phone. I wasn't away for long and when I came back, you'd gone."

"I fowwowed you. You wunned away. Naughty, Mummy." She began to cry again.

I looked up at Michael. His eyes had narrowed and he had a strange expression on his face. "What?" I snapped.

"Nothing," he said, his voice was flat and he turned to face the window.

"Michael, of course I didn't run away from her. You were outside waiting for me, for goodness sake. She's confused that's all." I shook my head, feeling my face flush even though I didn’t have anything to be guilty for.

***

Instead of going straight home, we took the children to the ballpark where we spent a couple of hours before going on to McDonalds for dinner.

Emma seemed to have recovered from her ordeal and both she and Michael were soon back to normal.

I was glad to be home. I kicke
d
my boots off, slipped my poor aching feet into my slippers and groaned.

Michael had taken the children upstairs to run them a bath. I opened a bottle of merlot and filled two glasses. I half-emptied my glass in one swallow then topped it up again.

I tidied the mess from the front-door mat, putting the shoes into the wicker basket and hanging coats up on the hooks. I took the bags through to the kitchen and set about unpacking.

I screwed a plastic carrier bag up and opened the drawer to shove it in. It was as though the contents of the drawer sprang to life and hundreds of plastic bags seemed to double in size and come up to meet me.

“Woah,” I said. Shoving them back down, I slammed the drawer. “Bloody hell, that needs sorting out,” I said to myself.

Emma's backpack was crammed full. I shook my head as I pulled out a half-eaten sandwich stuck to her favourite pink, crocheted blanket.

I threw the sandwich into the bin and reached for the dishcloth to wipe off the gooey mess.

As I placed the blanket on the bench top, I noticed a clunk. I shook it and a small silver item fell to the floor. Picking it up, I was surprised to see a tiny seahorse brooch. Now where the heck did that come from? Goosebumps covered my entire body.

Upstairs, I found Michael chasing the children from room to room with a towel on his head. He was pretending to be a monster and roaring at the top of his voice. Emma was squealing and almost running on the spot. I thought she might pee herself. Jacob belly-laughed at them both.

"Hey, hey, calm down now, come on," I said as I pulled Jacob into my arms.

"Again, Daddy, ‘gain," he cried.

"No more, darling, it's bedtime. Daddy will read to you instead—won't you, Daddy?" I mock-glared at Michael and smiled.

He shrugged and winked at me. "Sorry, squirt, your mummy's right, it's bedtime."

"Aw, Mummy, you spoiled-ed it." Emma stomped off to her bedroom.

I waited until I'd tucked Emma up in bed, before pulling out the seahorse from my pocket. "Emma, where did you get this from?"

Her eyes lit up. "A horsey! Can I keep him?" She snatched the tiny trinket from me.

"I found it in your bag, darling. Do you know how it got there?"

"No," she said as she inspected the brooch.

"Tell the truth, love—you won't be in trouble," I said, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"I don't know!" she said.

"Give it back to me." I held my hand out. "Now, please."

She began to cry. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. I was so exhausted, I just wanted to get back to my glass of wine and unwind.

Having put Jacob to bed, Michael came into Emma's room. I explained to him about the brooch.

"She's had a rough day, Mand. Maybe she could keep hold of it till the morning?"

"I s'pose," I sighed, willing to agree to anything for a quiet life.

Michael pinned the pretty brooch to the top corner of Emma's pillow and she stopped crying right away. I left them reading a story.

Back in the kitchen, glass in hand, I spied Michael's phone charging on the docking station. I remembered his hurried call at the zoo. I went to the bottom of the stairs and listened. He was still reading to Em.

My heart racing in my chest and all my nerves jangling, I unlocked his phone. He used the same number for everything. My clumsy fingers could have been sausages for all the use they were.

I opened the inbox. Empty.

The call log showed one name, numerous times—someone called Toni. A sick feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. I prayed he wasn’t at it again. My head was in a whirl. There must be some other explanation. He’d sworn to me it had been a one-off.

When Michael came downstairs, I was topping up my wine for the third time. I handed him his glass and sat down next to him on the sofa.

"Where do you think the seahorse came from, Amanda?" he asked.

I shrugged.

"We'll get to the bottom of it, don't worry."

"We will indeed," I said, looking at my cheating husband out of the corner of my eye. “We will indeed,” I repeated.

Chapter 3

Dennis

"Gotcha, you stupid bitch!" Dennis muttered to the computer screen, a smile spreading across his face. Taking that computer course had been the best thing he'd ever done. His typing was still very slow, but getting faster every day. He wondered how he ever managed without the internet.

Sophie03

Where do you want to meet?

Dannyfitz

Somewhere private. I'm married and will need to be discreet.

Sophie03

My grandmother is away and I have the key to her house.

Dannyfitz

Perfect. What time and where?

"Fuck! That was easy," he said aloud, signing off from the chat room. Young girls had changed a lot in the ten years he'd been away. He'd made it clear to Sophie03 that he expected sex and the fifteen-year-old had been eager to meet up.

Luckily she had a place they could use. He looked around his squalid room with its ripped wallpaper and dingy furniture. This place made his skin crawl. It was no place for a young girl. He’d told her he was thirty-nine and owned a big house in Richmond.

Standing up, he checked himself out in the tarnished mirror above the bed. He was in good shape for almost sixty years old. He had a small paunch and his hair had gone quite grey, but that made him look distinguished, he thought.

"Not bad. Not bad at all," he said to his reflection.

***

As Dennis parked the car, he was surprised by a feeling of impending doom. He almost gave in to it and raced out of there.

Instead, he forced himself to calm down and think about it rationally. Perhaps it was the guilt that was getting to him, or could the rehabilitation classes be having some effect? Possible, but unlikely.

He couldn't see anything wrong with what he was about to do. If the girl wanted it—and she obviously did—what was the problem? He thought about his probation officer and laughed. She would piss her monstrous pants if she knew.

Taking one last glance at his reflection in the rear-view mirror, his cold grey eyes looked back at him. He raked his fingers through his hair. After breathing into his hand, he inhaled deeply through his nose. Satisfied, he picked up the box of chocolates and a bottle of cheap wine from the passenger seat, and got out of the car.

The door to the house stood ajar. After knocking for the second time, he pushed it open a little further with his boot and stuck his head inside.

"Hello? Sophie, can you hear me?"

Still nothing, but he could hear a sound coming from inside like a vacuum cleaner or something electrical. He felt uneasy once again.

He glanced back at the battered old navy-blue Ford parked on the street and wondered if he should follow his instincts and get the hell out of the place? But the itch in his pants was too great to ignore.

He crept into the hallway with slow, uncertain steps, all his senses wired.

The place smelled musty as though it had been shut up for some time. He followed the sound that was coming from the back of the house, his heart racing.

"Hello-o, Sophie?"

He reached the kitchen and realised he'd gone too far as the sound was now behind him. He backtracked and came to a door under the stairs. When he opened the door, the noise was louder.

"Sophie?" he called down the stairs.

"Oh, is that you, Dennis?" The soft voice came from deep within the cellar. "I'm trying to get the heater to work so we can have a bath. Can you help me, please?"

The girl's voice made his hard-on twitch. It had been more than ten years since he had stroked, caressed or tasted a nubile young body. All his senses were telling him to turn and run—the last thing he wanted was to be banged up for another ten years. However, he couldn't ignore the painful urge in his groin.

A bare bulb hung from the centre of the ceiling, casting dark shadows to the outer reaches of the room. He descended the rickety wooden steps, taking care to place his feet in fear of falling.

Sophie was at the back of the cellar, bending over the boiler. She was perfect from behind in the skin-tight, faded jeans. He was in danger of coming in his pants if he wasn't careful. He grabbed the end of his cock through the fabric of his trousers and gave it a sharp pinch.

Her long blond hair hid her face. He walked up to her, put his hands on either side of her hips, and rubbed his hardness against her. "Look what I have for you, my dear."

"Oooh," she giggled, standing upright and arching her back. She was tall, as tall as he was.

Her head tilted backwards, resting on his shoulder. The scent of soap and shampoo, mixed with her excitement, filled his nostrils. She pushed against him with her exquisite tight bottom and groaned.

He could barely control himself. He placed his hands on her upper arms and tried to turn her to face him, but she shrugged his hands off.

"No, wait! It's sexier this way. Close your eyes," she whispered.

He did as she asked, anticipation surging through his veins. She was right—it was erotic not seeing her.

She pushed herself provocatively against his engorged hardness, deliberately replacing her bottom with her hand, she rubbed at it with continual strokes, like a masseuse. Her touch grew more tantalising and urgent as she turned around and crouched in front of him, then with the other hand she unbuckled his belt. He felt her pull his trousers down around his ankles, his breath catching in his throat as his heavy penis sprang free.

Sophie wasted no time. Her cold hands added an extra sensation to the red-hot silky skin of his huge, throbbing cock.

"Oh yeah, good girl, yeah," he groaned as he wrapped one of his hands in her hair; with the other he steadied himself on the boiler.

Sophie roughly pulled at him, making his breath hitch.

"Steady, girl, take it easy," he moaned. Her breath was so close, teasing and driving him wild. He put the roughness down to inexperience which excited him all the more.

The next sensation was unexpected, although not altogether unpleasant. Sophie, moving quite fast, grabbed at his testicles. He felt himself lifted briefly. A confused grunt stuck in his throat.

A feeling of warm liquid running down his legs and splattering the floor, made him think he'd urinated. He groped for his penis, but his fingers sank into a squelching, empty space where it should be.

He felt the cellar walls move in and out. He was dizzy and confused. It couldn't be what he thought. There would be pain. Someone was playing a cruel trick on him.

Sophie had stepped away into the shadows.

In his panic, he tried to get under the light where he could see, but his trousers, still around his ankles, made him stagger before he crashed backwards to the icy floor.

As he hit the ground, Sophie took a step forward into the light, and the shock hit him like a freight train. Tightness in his chest prevented him from taking a full breath. Hot lava-like bile filled his throat and mouth. He swallowed it back down. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.

"Still the same, I see. Prison didn't make a blind bit of difference to you, did it?" she said as she continued walking towards him. Blood covered the front of her pink blouse and had spattered down her jeans.

He shook his head, his wide eyes blinking rapidly. "You," he managed to utter. As he scrambled backwards, his right hand still deep in his groin, pressing into the gaping, bloody hole where his penis and testicles should be.

Hitting the far wall, he could go no further. Blood spurted from his crotch in terrifying amounts. He felt the life draining from him with every beat of his heart.

He welcomed the darkness when it came.