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Authors: Sophie McKenzie

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BOOK: Sister, Missing
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‘That looks like private land,’ Jam said, uncertainly.

I shrugged. ‘That’s where Madison is.’

Jam and I set off up the hill. I sent Rick a text and, glancing over my shoulder, I could see he was following us at a distance.

That was reassuring, at least.

We reached the gate. It was made of rusting metal – part of an iron fence that cut through the trees and disappeared into the distance. The fence was high and topped with metal spikes set
close together. It was old and rusty, for sure, but still a lethal way to keep out intruders.

‘You were right,’ I whispered to Jam. ‘This is private property.’

‘We’re not the only ones who’ve been here.’ Jam pointed to the gate, which was open a fraction.

‘I guess she wants us . . . me . . . to go through.’ I hesitated. I could only make out a few metres of stony path beyond the gate.

‘Madison’s along
there
?’ Jam sounded sceptical. ‘I’m not sure, Lauren, this could easily be a trap.’

‘What choice do we have?’ I said. ‘If we don’t go she’ll kill Madison.’ I paused. ‘I know it’s a risk, but I think Sonia Holtwood just wants the
money. That’s all she’s ever wanted.’

I looked over my shoulder. Rick had reached the bridge and was watching us from there. Two cars passed along the road in quick succession.

‘Rick will follow us,’ I said, slightly reassured.

‘OK.’ Jam pushed at the iron gate.

It opened with a rusty creak.

‘Let’s go,’ I whispered.

I followed Jam through and onto the stony path. Jam let go of the gate. We crept forwards.

Slam.
The gate closed behind us with a firm click.
No.
I spun round and pushed at it, but it wouldn’t budge.

Jam joined me, rattling the metal bars.

‘It’s locked itself,’ I whispered.

‘Oh, man.’ Jam glanced around.

My chest constricted. Now we were locked behind the iron fence, with Rick on the other side. I could see him still standing by the bridge. He clearly didn’t realise we’d been locked
in. Or maybe he thought he could follow us over the gate. I looked up at its high spikes and at those on the surrounding iron fence. Maybe he
could
climb over, but it wouldn’t be
easy.

My throat tightened. I met Jam’s gaze. Should we give up and try and climb back over the gate ourselves?

I only had to think for a second. No way.

‘Madison,’ I said.

Jam nodded and together we set off along the path.

 
7

The Arrival

Despite the fierce sun it was cool on the path. Trees surrounded us on either side, casting the walkway into shade, and the damp chill of the stone seemed to seep through my
sandals, into the soles of my feet. The path narrowed and we had to walk single file. I could hear the soft pad of Jam’s trainers right behind me. After a moment, we came to another gate set
in the long iron fence. I stood in front of it for a second, the backpack full of money still in my hand, peering out at the clearing beyond.

This was clearly the end of the private land we had walked across. Beside me, Jam pointed to the chain that was looped through the gate. It had been cut cleanly in two. Jam gave the gate a
shove. It was stiffer than the one we had walked through before and dragged against the ground as we pushed it, but between us we forced it open and emerged out of the shadowy private land into the
sun-washed clearing.

I shielded my eyes from the sun and looked around. We were standing in a gravel-strewn space, about fifty metres square and surrounded on all sides by trees. Four grubby maintenance vans were
parked in a row at the far end, next to an iron hut. There was a rubbish tip next to the hut – mostly made from broken bits of stone, as far as I could see – and scrap metal lay
scattered across the ground.

Two long, winding gravel tracks led away from the clearing in opposite directions. I had no idea where we were, but it couldn’t be too far from the road as traffic noises hummed in the
distance.

The sun was now high in the sky, but despite the fierce heat on my head and back I still felt cold. Cold to my bones.

Where were the kidnappers? Where was Madison?

I glanced at my phone. No message. Nothing.

I tightened my grip on the backpack with the money. The handle felt sticky against my palm.

‘They’ll be here in a minute,’ Jam said, looking round.

I thought of Rick, stuck on the other side of the gate. Had we been really stupid to come through here alone?

A white van appeared on one of the gravel paths. We stared as it drew slowly closer.

At the edge of the clearing – about fifty metres away – the van swung round so the back was now facing us. It stopped. A man got out. He was big . . . muscular, with a cap pulled
down over his eyes. He walked to the rear of the van.

‘You were supposed to come alone,’ he called out. He had an American accent.

I said nothing. My heart was pounding in my ears.

‘Marcia says to put the money there.’ He pointed to a spot halfway between us, on the dusty gravel ground.

I glanced at Jam. Marcia Burns was Sonia Holtwood’s real name. So she
was
behind the kidnapping. Jam said nothing, but the muscles in his jaw tightened and I knew he’d clocked
the name too.

‘Where’s Madison?’ I shouted, trying to stop my voice from shaking. ‘We’re not giving you anything until we’ve got Madison.’

The man reached for the back door of the van. He opened it slowly, keeping his eyes on Jam and me.

I gasped. Madison was inside, curled up on the floor. She struggled to her feet as the door opened, turning to face me. There was a gag round her mouth, but even from this distance I could see
the terror in her huge, brown eyes. Instinctively I rushed forward, my breath catching in my throat. ‘Madison!’

‘Get back!’ The man’s yell stopped me in my tracks.

I stood, shaking, in the middle of the clearing. ‘It’s OK, Mo, we’re here now. Are you all right?’

Madison gave me a small nod.

‘You better not have hurt her!’ The words exploded out of me.

The man chuckled. ‘She’s fine. Now bring the money over. Slowly. Put it down and we’ll do the exchange.’

I walked towards the van. My legs were trembling, but I kept my gaze on Madison. She was still wearing the denim shorts and blue top from our outing to the beach. Her plaits had mostly come
undone and, for some reason, it was the sight of her messy, unbrushed hair that hurt the most . . . the thought that there had been no-one to look after her . . . no-one to hold her when she cried
. . .

‘I’m going to get you,’ I called out. ‘Everything’s going to be OK.’

Madison’s hands were tied behind her with rope. I took another step forward. My legs could barely hold me up. This had to be the longest walk of my life.

‘Come on!’ the man shouted.

I had a flashback to the boat on which Sonia had left me to drown. This man had been with her then – his name was Frank.

The sun beat down, fierce against my face. It was almost directly overhead now, glinting off the side of the van.

‘OK, Frank,’ I said.

His head jerked up. He stared at me.

Good, I’d unsettled him by recognising him

Madison was now pointing at Frank as if trying to warn me about something. She twisted round, moving her fingers like she was firing a pistol. Was she trying to tell me Frank was armed? I
gritted my teeth. I didn’t care if he was carrying a bomb packed with enough explosives to blow up the whole of the south coast.

‘I’m coming, Mo,’ I called again.

‘That’s far enough,’ Frank shouted.

I stopped, about thirty metres away from the van. I glanced over my shoulder. Jam was a little way behind me, his foot tapping nervously against the ground.

‘Put down the money,’ Frank ordered.

I set the backpack down in front of me. ‘Let Madison go.’

Frank turned and reached inside the van. He ordered Madison to jump down. She landed with a light thud on the gravel. She started to run towards me, but Frank tripped her. She stumbled, almost
losing her balance.

‘You freaking bully,’ I shouted. ‘If you dare hurt her I’ll—’

‘You’ll what?’ Frank laughed. ‘Now take a few paces back, away from the money, then I’ll let the rugrat go.’

I took a step back, keeping my eyes on Madison the whole time.

‘Further,’ Frank ordered.

Another step. Another. Frank watched me carefully. A bead of sweat trickled down my neck.

And then the sound of an engine drifted towards us. I looked round. Through the narrow gap in the maintenance vans, I could just make out a police car shimmering in the sunshine. It was heading
slowly along the gravel path behind me, a long way off still, but definitely coming towards us. As I watched, the car disappeared behind a clump of trees. It couldn’t have seen us yet.

Frank stopped walking, his expression furious.

‘Double-crossing little—’

In a single, swift movement he whipped a gun from his pocket. The barrel glinted in the sun. He pressed it against Madison’s head.

‘You told the police,’ he shouted.

‘No!’ Panic surged up inside me. I ran forward. ‘No, I didn’t.’

Frank swore. ‘Stop or I’ll shoot her!’

I stopped running. The backpack was at my feet. A good thirty metres away from Frank and Madison.

‘Throw me the money,’ Frank ordered.

‘Let Madison go first,’ I insisted. I glanced over my shoulder. The police car was still hidden from us by the trees, but it would surely reappear again any second.

Frank swore again. Before I could move, he picked Madison up, tucked her under his arm and ran to the front of the van. Madison kicked furiously, but Frank just flung her into the front seat. A
second later the engine revved and the van roared away, up the path it had come down earlier.

No.
I raced after the van, a scream rising inside my throat.

But the van was roaring into the distance, leaving only whirling gravel dust behind.

Madison was gone.

 
8

Last Chance

Jam grabbed my arm. I hadn’t even noticed him run up beside me. ‘Are you OK?’ he said.

My head was spinning. I couldn’t think straight. I glanced round. The police car was visible again on the gravel path, driving slowly towards us. I had no idea what the police were doing
here. All I could focus on was Madison, trapped in that van. A huge sob welled up in my chest. I’d promised my little sister that she’d be all right and instead I’d let her be
taken away from me. Again.

The police car was almost at the end of the gravel path.

‘Lauren?’ Jam gripped my arm.

I took a step towards the police car. We had to get them to follow the van . . . rescue Madison.

As I moved, my phone, which was still in my hand, vibrated.
Call withheld.
It was
her
. Sonia Holtwood.

I snatched the mobile to my ear.

‘Is Madison OK?’ I gasped.

‘What the hell are you playing at?’ Sonia Holtwood – even with her voice disguised through the filter – sounded furious. ‘The one thing I told you
not
to do
was involve the police.’

‘I didn’t . . .
please
.’

‘Frank
saw
the cop car.’

‘I know, but
I
didn’t call them.
Please.
Let me speak to Mad—’

‘My gun is pointed at your sister’s head right now,’ Holtwood said. ‘Give me one reason why I shouldn’t pull the trigger.’

My whole body froze with shock. I met Jam’s gaze. He looked as distraught as I felt.

Across the clearing the police car was pulling to a halt.

I looked down at the bag with the money on the ground beside me. I had to think – and move – fast. I kicked the bag across the gravel so that it was half hidden behind a large piece
of scrap metal.

‘You don’t have the two million,’ I hissed into the phone. ‘And if you shoot Madison now you’ll never get it.’

‘Are you threatening me?’ The filtered voice hardened. ‘Because you’re—’

‘It’s not a threat,’ I said, desperately. The police car front door opened and a female officer got out. ‘I didn’t call the cops but they’re
here
.
Right now.’

Holtwood sucked in her breath. ‘OK, we’ll do another deal,’ she said quickly. ‘But this is your last chance, Lauren. If you tell those officers
anything
you’ll never see Madison again. Leave the phone on so I can hear.’

I took the phone away from my ear and held it in my hand.

‘What’s going on?’ Jam hissed.

Across the clearing a male police officer had now got out of the car as well. He and the policewoman started walking towards us.

‘We have to lie about the kidnapping,’ I said quickly. I had no doubt Holtwood meant what she said. If she heard me speaking to the police now she would kill Madison.

‘Oh, man.’ Jam blew out his breath.

‘Hello there.’ The male police officer smiled as he reached us. He was young – not much older than we were. The woman beside him, on the other hand, was middle-aged, with grey
hair and a permanent crease down the middle of her forehead.

‘What are you two doing out here?’ she said, unsmiling.

‘We just came for a walk.’ My lips were dry. ‘We’re not trespassing on private land, are we?’

‘No.’ The policewoman looked irritated. ‘We had a call from a Shelby Purditt. Do you know her?’

Jam and I looked at each other.
Shelby.
So that was why the police were here.

I met the policewoman’s gaze. ‘Shelby’s my sister.’

A beat passed. The woman was still staring at me. ‘So you’re
Lauren
Purditt?’

I opened my mouth. I was about to explain that my surname was different because I’d been brought up by different parents, but then I thought better of it. There was no point complicating
everything.

‘I’m Lauren,’ I said. ‘Look, I don’t know what Shelby’s told you, but she’s always making up stuff. She does it to get me into trouble.’

Jam cleared his throat. ‘What’s this about?’

‘The station received a call from your sister about an hour ago,’ the policeman said. ‘She was apparently emotional and incoherent, but the gist of what she said was that your
sister Madison had been kidnapped and that you were paying a two-million-pound ransom to get her back.’

BOOK: Sister, Missing
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