Ready or Not (24 page)

Thirty
Two

They walked back to the car outside the school and Chris got Matthew to drive.

             
‘I knew I recognised that name,’ he said, buckling up in the passenger seat.

             
‘What name?’ Matthew asked, starting the engine.

             
‘Neil Davies.’

             
Chris sat forward in his seat and tapped the dashboard distractedly. ‘His son, Ben, was reported missing at the beginning of the week,’ he told Matthew. ‘That’s the kid whose name the receptionist couldn’t remember.’

             
Matthew glanced sideways. He narrowed his eyes and gripped the steering wheel. ‘Not exactly an uncommon name,’ he said.

             
‘True.’ But too much of a coincidence otherwise, he thought.

             
‘How do you know, anyway?’

             
‘Kate Kelly.’

             
‘The fit one?’ Matthew asked, winking slyly.

             
Chris rolled his eyes. ‘You think?’ he said dismissively.

             
Matthew tutted. ‘You don’t?’

             
Chris shrugged and avoided answering the question. Most men found Kate attractive, though she was not beautiful in the conventional sense. There was an awkward clumsiness about her that was endearing. She blushed easily and was slightly kooky. She thought herself aloof, but was more often than not the opposite. She was vulnerable, but she didn’t know it; if she did know it, she would never have admitted it. She didn’t realise how attractive she was, which paradoxically made her all the more so.

             
‘You two close then?’ Matthew asked, glancing at Chris.

             
‘We worked together when I first moved down here.’

             
‘Not what I asked.’ Matthew grinned and focused on the road ahead. He’d seen Kate just days earlier, watching him through her office window as he fought with the drinks machine on her corridor. There was something about her, he thought, but she was too old for him. Anyway, he’d been trained not to mix business with pleasure.

             
Matthew wouldn’t have been the first person to try to interrogate Chris about his relationship with Kate. There were plenty of people who’d raised a curious eyebrow or given him a gentle nudge when Kate left a room, but the gossipmongers back at the station were going to be given no ammunition from Chris. They would be disappointed: nothing had ever happened between them; well, nothing that she’d decided she wanted to pursue. They were friends. She had made that clear.

             
‘What do you make of all this then?’ Chris asked, changing the subject. ‘It’s been me doing all the brain work so far – let’s hear your theories.’

             
Matthew sighed exaggeratedly. He didn’t like being put on the spot and continually joked that he was just the tea boy; although Chris sometimes wondered whether the light-hearted, jovial tone was used to hide some deeper resentment of his position. He’d done well so far, but his progress had been steady and he could easily have been promoted by now had he demonstrated the right tenacity.

             
‘Victims, three men,’ Matthew said. ‘One killer. Or so we think.’

             
‘I think,’ Chris corrected him.

             
‘We both think then. All with a wife and two kids, one boy, one girl, but we don’t know what the relevance is, or even if it’s relevant at all.’

             
He paused.

             
‘Is that it?’ Chris asked, hopeful for more.

             
‘I’m thinking.’

             
Matthew groped in his pocket for a chewing gum. He offered Chris one; Chris declined.

             
‘That helping the thinking process at all?’ Chris asked, referring to the incessant chewing that ensued.

             
‘No,’ Matthew admitted. He stared blankly at the road ahead. ‘I don’t get it. Who the hell is Adam? And why would he claim to be the husband of someone who’s been dead for three years?’

             
Chris reached into his pocket for his phone and brought up Kate’s mobile number. If anyone might be able to offer them some sort of insight it would be her. He hoped so, at least.

             
He called, but it went straight to voicemail.

             
‘Hi, this is Kate Kelly. Sorry I can’t answer the phone at the moment – please leave a message and I’ll get back to you.’

             
He hung up.

             
Chris turned to Matthew. ‘Ever been to Candy’s?’

Thirty Three

There was too much mystery surrounding Neil Davies. Last night, in the glow of a couple of large glasses of wine and an absence of rational thinking, Kate had been happy not to know too much. Today, in the cold light and sobriety of the afternoon, an insinuating vein of common sense told her she needed to know more.

              Now that Stacey Reed was found, Kate had to concentrate her focus on Ben Davies. She’d been sure that he was safe and in some way responsible for his own disappearance, but now she couldn’t be so certain. He had been missing for five nights; if he was sulking, he’d have got over it and gone home by now. Children who cried for help didn’t stay away that long.

             
Regardless of her feelings towards his father, Kate had a duty to the boy, and that was to bring him home safe and well. She just hoped that that was still possible.

             
But where was home for Ben, Kate thought. What had happened to the family after Sarah’s death that was so bad Neil’s own children had been taken away from him?

             
Plenty of people lost their partners, Kate thought. Other people found themselves suddenly and unexpectedly on their own, alone with children they would have to raise as a single parent, but that didn’t automatically mean they would have their children taken away from them and put into foster care. Just how badly had Neil’s wife’s death affected him? What were the repercussions of her death?

             
Why hadn’t she asked him? There had been plenty of opportunities last night for her to ask her own questions, but she had been so wrapped up in responding to his that it hadn’t occurred to her. It was almost as though she didn’t need to ask, or didn’t need to know. Neil made her believe she could trust him, though she realised now she didn’t know the slightest thing about him. She had trusted someone who was no more than a stranger.

             
Kate avoided the castle this time, taking the long way around the outskirts of Caerphilly town to get to the estate where Sophie Davies now lived. She needed to keep a clear head today and reminders of the past would only cloud her focus with distracting and unhelpful diversions.

             
Yesterday she had gone easy on Sophie Davies, despite the girl’s bad attitude and her sniping comments. She’s made allowances for the fact that the girl had lost her mother and been removed from the rest of her family, but there was no room for sympathy when Ben was still missing.

             
Today, the girl was going to talk.

             
Kate pulled up outside the house. The car wasn’t in the driveway, but when she rang the bell Mrs Evans, Sophie’s foster mother, came to the door.

             
‘Miss Kelly,’ she said, after Kate had introduced herself. Her North Wales accent was as thick as her husband’s. ‘My husband said you’d called yesterday. Nothing the matter is there?’

             
‘I’m sure Sophie has told you, Mrs Evans that her brother, Ben, is missing. I know they don’t see a lot of each other at the moment, but Sophie really does need to tell me everything she knows. Yesterday she was a little…’

             
She paused while trying to find the most suitable, least offensive choice of adjective.

             
Mrs Evans waved a hand dismissively. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘It’s been a very tough few years for Sophie. She’s not always so difficult, but she has her moments.’

             
Mrs Evans ushered Kate into the house and closed the door behind her.

             
‘She’s in the kitchen,’ she told Kate. ‘I’ll be in the living room if you need me.’

             
In the kitchen Sophie Davies sat at the table with a book in front of her. She glanced up briefly as Kate entered the room, but went straight back to the book, determined to get to the end of the chapter before being interrupted. Kate sat opposite her and waited patiently.

             
Sophie got to the end of the chapter and closed the book.

             
‘What are you reading?’ Kate asked, glancing at the title on the front cover.

             
Sophie pushed the book across the table towards her.

             
‘Any good?’ Kate asked, studying the cover.

             
Sophie shrugged. ‘It’s about a girl who lives with her grandmother,’ she explained sullenly. ‘The girl’s father is dead and she thinks her mother is dead too, but she’s not – that’s just what her grandmother told her.’ Sophie paused. ‘Why would anyone do that?’ she asked, although Kate suspected that she was not expected to answer. ‘Why would anyone lie to their own family like that?’

             
Kate said nothing. She didn’t know what to say that might ease the tension and avoid exacerbating the girl’s bitterness.

             
‘I thought we’d said everything yesterday,’ Sophie said, breaking the silence. She folded her arms defensively and stared at Kate with her dark, heavily made-up eyes.

             
‘I didn’t,’ Kate said, ‘and I’m pretty sure you didn’t either, Sophie.’

             
Sophie gazed out of the kitchen window, avoiding eye contact with Kate. She played aimlessly with the plastic bracelets on her wrist.

             
‘Every day your brother is missing,’ Kate told her carefully, ‘it becomes harder to find him. It’s been five days now, Sophie. That might not sound a lot to you, but he’s a twelve year old boy. I know he’s not as independent as you are. I know he can’t look after himself the way that you probably could.’

             
‘You don’t know anything about me,’ Sophie said defensively.

             
‘No, I don’t,’ Kate admitted, realising flattery wasn’t going to work with the girl. ‘And I don’t know enough about Ben either. That’s why I need someone who knows him better. That’s why I need you.’             

             
Sophie leaned on the table and looked up at Kate from beneath her thick eyelashes. ‘For a detective, you’re not especially good at detecting,’ she said. There was a sneer in her voice and an attitude in the way she held her shoulders, as though challenging Kate; trying to provoke a reaction.

             
‘I’m sure your father told you how concerned everyone is,’ Kate said abruptly, ignoring Sophie’s last comment. ‘In fact, he told me you were very upset about the matter.’

             
Sophie narrowed her eyes and sat back sharply in her chair. ‘I haven’t spoken to my father in two years,’ she said bitterly. ‘I’m not allowed to. Or, more to the point, he’s not allowed to speak to me.’

             
Sophie Davies was playing a very silly game, Kate thought. She could feel her impatience growing already. She rose from the table and opened the kitchen door. ‘Stay there,’ she said sharply to Sophie.

             
Mrs Evans was sitting in the living room watching last night’s Eastenders on Sky Plus. She pressed the TV off with the remote when she saw Kate enter the room. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Thought I’d leave you to it.’

             
‘That’s fine,’ Kate said. ‘I just wanted to ask you a little bit about Sophie. Has she…’ She considered the most appropriate way to pose the question. ‘Does she cause you any problems, Mrs Evans?’

             
The woman smiled. ‘No more than any of the others we’ve had,’ she said. ‘My husband and I have been fostering for years, Miss…’

             
‘Kelly,’ Kate reminded her. ‘Kate.’

             
‘Kate,’ she repeated. ‘Like I said, we’ve been fostering for years and we’ve had children with all sorts of problems stay with us. Children whose parents have had drug problems, even children with drug problems…in comparison, Sophie’s a delight.’

             
Kate sat at the end of the sofa.