Sister, Missing Read online

  Shouts issued from upstairs. I went into the hall. Shelby was yelling again about how everyone was ignoring her. A second later she stormed down the stairs, past me and out into the garden, slamming the kitchen door behind her.

  Selfish cow. How could she go on and on about not being listened to, as if this whole situation was about her? Didn’t she realise how terrified Madison must be, spending the night alone with Sonia Holtwood?

  Nothing else mattered to me except getting Madison back. And though there was no reason why Sonia Holtwood wouldn’t let her go once she had her two million, anxiety gnawed through me like a rat on a rope.

  I could hear Annie sobbing in her bedroom. Should I go up and try and comfort her? No, Rick was there. I could hear his voice now, soft and low, attempting to calm her down.

  I walked back into the kitchen and sat down at the table. My heart literally hurt inside my chest. How could my little sister be gone? I couldn’t bear it.

  My phone rang. It was Mum . . . calling from Disney World. I let it go to voice mail. My head was too full of worry about Madison to explain everything again – and deal with Mum’s reaction.

  ‘Missed your phone call?’ Shelby’s thin, accusing voice came from the garden doorway.

  I looked up. Her eyes were red from crying, but the fierce look of disdain on her face made it impossible to feel sorry for her.

  I pocketed my phone.

  ‘Don’t let me stop you calling him back.’ Shelby’s tone was scathing. ‘We all know how you can’t get through a whole hour without speaking to your boyfriend.’

  ‘It wasn’t Jam actually,’ I said.

  ‘No?’ Shelby sniffed. ‘I noticed he couldn’t wait to get away from you earlier.’

  I stared at my sister. Was that true? Surely Jam had gone out to get fish and chips because he was a nice person who could see Annie was in no state to think about cooking any dinner – not to get away from me. I mean, like I said, he’d been a bit distant recently, but he still wanted to be with me. Coming here today proved it, didn’t it?

  Either way, Shelby was just being mean.

  ‘What’s your problem, Shelby?’ I snapped. ‘Your real problem, I mean, apart from what you should be worrying about which is Madison and what you obviously are worrying about which is the state of my love life.’

  She hesitated. Then to my surprise she sank down in the nearest chair and twisted her hands together, exactly as I’d seen Annie do.

  ‘We should be calling the police,’ she said. ‘I know Mom and Rick are totally against it, but the police would know what to do. They’re in the best position to get Madison back.’

  Now Shelby’s haughty mask had slipped, I could see how scared she was. For the first time I seriously wondered if she had a point. The police were experts at dealing with kidnapping and ransom demands, which I certainly wasn’t, while Annie was an emotional wreck. As for Rick, well, his work as a security guard, or whatever he’d done, didn’t exactly make him James Bond.

  Perhaps the police were in the best position to help Madison.

  I looked up at Shelby, ready to discuss it at least. Her dyed hair was a mess, blonde strands falling over her face and at least five centimetres of root showing. Somehow it made her look more vulnerable. I felt pity for her. After all, Madison was her sister too. She must be feeling as terrible as I was.

  And then Shelby’s cold, haughty mask slipped back into place. Her eyes hardened and she swept back her hair.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re still so arrogant about this when it’s your fault Madison was taken,’ she sneered. ‘You were supposed to be looking after her.’

  Her words pierced through me. I wanted to deny them, but deep inside I knew that what she said was horribly, irrefutably true. I had been looking after Mo. It was my fault she’d been taken.

  ‘You’ve totally convinced everyone the kidnapper is Sonia Holtwood,’ Shelby went on, ‘which means they’re all terrified she’ll hurt Madison, but the truth is you don’t know who or what is really involved. You’re out of your depth, but you’ve convinced Mom and Rick you’re right. It’s pathetic.’

  ‘And what makes you so sure you’re right?’ I snarled, deeply stung. ‘What makes you so sure that Sonia Holtwood won’t just do what she said and kill Madison if we go to the police?’

  A few seconds passed. Shelby’s hard brown eyes bored into mine. ‘That’s the point,’ she said icily. ‘I’m saying I don’t know which is why we should hand everything over to the cops.’

  And with that, she turned and marched out of the room.

  6

  The Meeting Place

  Dawn. I’d slept badly after the showdown with Shelby. I hadn’t called Mum back, either. The last thing I needed was somebody else telling me I was getting everything wrong.

  I’d been kidnapped by Sonia Holtwood myself. I’d had my life turned upside down by that woman. I knew, better than anyone, what she was capable of. And, the more I thought about it, the more convinced I was that I should stick to my gut feeling that keeping the police out of the situation was the best way to get Madison safely home.

  I could hear Annie in the next room, talking in a low voice with Rick. Clearly he had spent the night here. I thought of Sam – warm, thoughtful, hard-working Sam – and felt a flush of anger on his behalf. What was Annie doing letting some muscleman she hardly knew get so close to her?

  On the other hand, I had to admit that at least Rick seemed to calm her down a bit.

  My phone beeped. My heart lurched as I opened the text, but it was only Mum.

  Sorry didn’t talk earlier. Will call u later. Hope revising going well.

  I sent a short reply.

  A few minutes later Annie appeared in my bedroom doorway. She glanced round. I followed her gaze to the bed. I’d laid Madison’s pocket dolls across the pillow and the sight of them all lined up in their little outfits brought a lump to my throat. Tammy, the doll she’d been playing with on the beach, nestled in the centre of the group. Her shoes were still missing and her plait was still untied. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to tidy her up.

  Madison will do it when she comes home, I kept saying to myself. Don’t jinx things by doing it now.

  ‘I just came to say I’m aiming to get to the bank as soon as it opens,’ Annie said in a croaky voice. Her blue eyes looked red and sore from crying.

  ‘Would you like me to come with you?’ I said, throwing back the bedcovers.

  Annie offered me a shaky smile. ‘Thanks, Lauren.’

  Another hour dragged by. I went down to the kitchen and made some tea. I woke Jam, who had slept on the sofa in the living room, and soon after that Rick and Shelby appeared too. Rick offered to cook bacon and eggs, but none of us could manage any breakfast.

  We didn’t want to hang around the house – so we were all standing outside the bank when it opened. Annie went in alone to collect the cash. She emerged half an hour later with a backpack in her hand.

  ‘I can’t believe so much money fits into something so small,’ she whispered.

  I nodded. The bag did look tiny considering it contained two million pounds.

  ‘Come on,’ Rick said, looking round as he spoke. ‘Let’s get in the car and get back home. It’s spooking me out standing here with this much cash.’

  The holiday home kitchen was normally light and airy, with sunshine filtering in through the garden door and the large window over the sink. Today, however, Rick had drawn the curtains to avoid anyone in the surrounding houses peering in as Annie opened the backpack to show us the bundles of fifty-pound notes.

  ‘I can’t wait ’til that money is out of the house,’ Rick muttered. ‘It’s giving me the heebie-jeebies having it here.’

  My phone beeped.

  It was her.

  I read the text out loud:

  ‘Tennison Bridge, North Norbourne. Eleven am. Come ALONE.’

  ‘That’s on the way to the beach where we had one of our picnics last week,’ Annie
said. ‘D’you remember? We stopped off to take a picture.’

  I nodded. The bridge had been small and pretty – made of grey stone and set over a sloping, tumbling brook. Annie had insisted on a photo of the three of us. Shelby had made a fuss, of course, but eventually we’d stood in a row and smiled. I’d been bored . . . missing my friends from London . . . missing Jam. Only Madison’s chatter had cheered me up.

  ‘How can the kidnappers be so sure we’ve got the money already?’ Shelby said.

  ‘They were probably following us to the bank,’ Rick said.

  I shivered. Then checked the time. Just over an hour to go.

  ‘I really don’t like you going on your own,’ Annie said.

  ‘The bridge is on a road,’ I said. ‘There’ll be other cars driving past.’

  ‘Which is weird, don’t you think?’ Shelby interjected. ‘Why would the kidnapper risk anyone seeing what she was doing?’

  ‘I’ll be with Lauren.’ Rick squeezed Annie’s shoulder and she smiled gratefully up at him.

  ‘It says come alone.’ I pointed to the text.

  ‘I’ll stay fifty metres away,’ Rick said. ‘Hide behind a tree or something.’

  ‘So will I,’ Jam added.

  ‘There’s no need,’ Rick said. ‘I can look after Lauren.’

  ‘And it isn’t safe for you, Jam,’ Annie added. ‘Sonia Holtwood knows what you look like.’

  ‘Then she’ll know I’m not the police, won’t she?’ Jam said flatly. ‘I’m going and that’s that.’

  Annie and Rick looked awkward, but they didn’t argue. I said nothing but, inside, I felt relieved.

  An hour later, Jam, Rick and I set off. Rick parked just down the road from the bridge and we got out of the car. The earth underfoot was dry and cracked. The sun was as high and bright as it had been yesterday when Madison was taken. Was that really only twenty-four hours ago? I couldn’t bear to think how terrified and unhappy Madison must be, all on her own with Sonia Holtwood. The backpack containing the two million pounds felt heavy on my back. Jam took my hand. I took a deep breath and sent a mental message to my little sister: We’re coming, Mo, I promise. Just hang in there . . .

  ‘You sure you’re OK doing this?’ he asked.

  I nodded. Rick cleared his throat. ‘I guess we should wait here,’ he said gruffly. ‘Lauren needs to go on alone.’

  Jam met his gaze. ‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘I’m going to wait at the bridge with her. Sonia Holtwood just said no police. And, like I said, she knows I’m not the cops, which is an advantage. Anyway, I’m not letting Lauren do this alone.’

  ‘But she threatened to kill the little one.’ Rick’s voice rose in panic. ‘What about the risk? Wait.’

  But Jam had already dragged me away.

  ‘You shouldn’t be coming with me,’ I muttered as I stumbled after him across the field towards the bridge.

  I looked over my shoulder. Rick was hanging back by the car, clearly scared of following us himself.

  Jam made a face. ‘Like you always do what you’re told.’

  I bit my lip. I wanted to tell Jam I was grateful, but I didn’t want to sound all mushy. Jam himself was frowning, looking round. He was clearly preoccupied with what was about to happen.

  We reached the bridge. It ran over a small stream which looked like it had once been a lot bigger. We slid down the bank to the water and walked under the bridge and out the other side. There was no sign of anyone in the surrounding fields, just a couple of joggers in the distance.

  A few cars passed. We waited at the bottom of the bridge, by the stream. The sun was up now, but the air in the shade was cooler and there was a smell of damp. Rick was just visible, peering over the bonnet of his car.

  ‘Now what?’ Jam said.

  I took my phone out of my pocket and checked it for what felt like the millionth time, though I knew there had been no call or text.

  ‘We wait,’ I said.

  Jam nodded then strolled under the little bridge again. It was only a few metres long, but the shady side of the bridge created dense shadows. I pressed my hand against the damp stone. Despite the sparkling water, the bridge felt dank and gloomy – very different from how it had seemed last week, when we’d stopped to have our picture taken.

  ‘This place is spooky,’ I said with a shiver. ‘Imagine it at night.’

  As I spoke, my phone rang. Number withheld.

  Jam stopped walking. He turned and watched as I brought the mobile to my lips.

  ‘Hello?’ I said, my voice trembling.

  ‘Do you have the money?’ It was the kidnapper’s voice. Female, but disguised through that same robot-like filter. This time, though, I was sure I could make out the twang of Sonia Holtwood’s American accent.

  ‘I’ve got it,’ I said. ‘Where’s Madison?’

  ‘Safe,’ Holtwood said. ‘She’s here. We’re waiting for you.’

  I looked round. There was still no sign of anyone on either side of the bridge. The joggers had long since disappeared and all I could see was an elderly man with a dog, walking slowly into the distant trees.

  ‘Up the hill, away from the bridge and the road,’ the voice went on. ‘I’ve left the gate unlocked.’

  ‘What gate?’ I said. ‘How do I know Madison’s there?’

  There was a scuffling noise, then the phone’s filter cut out and Madison’s tearful voice came on the line. ‘Lauren?’

  Before I could reply, the line went dead.

  I froze, the mobile still in my hand.

  ‘What did she say?’ Jam was already beside me, his whisper echoing against the bridge’s stone wall.

  I looked around. The hill Holtwood had mentioned was to the right of the bridge, rising gently away from the road that had brought us here . . . and away from Rick.

  ‘She wants us to go up there.’ I pointed towards the incline. It led up towards a high gate in a long iron fence, surrounded by trees and shrubs.

  ‘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.