Sister, Missing Page 8

  Matt’s tanned, handsome face paled.

  ‘If you don’t help us I’ll tell the police you were helping the kidnappers. That’ll make you an accessory to a serious crime.’

  ‘No.’ Matt gulped. ‘Don’t go to the police. I—’

  ‘. . . already have a record?’ Jam suggested.

  Matt frowned with anxiety. ‘It was a woman,’ he said, his voice barely audible. ‘She didn’t give me her name, but she had an American accent.’

  ‘Holtwood,’ Shelby breathed.

  ‘OK,’ I said. ‘Tell me everything that happened.’

  12

  The Trail

  Matt led us away from his table. Lipstick Girl frowned, but didn’t attempt to follow. Matt stopped beside a glass cupboard containing shelves of cakes and desserts, then spoke in a low voice.

  ‘The woman who came up to me was older . . . maybe in her forties, and American . . . I dunno,’ he said. ‘She was wearing a cap, pulled down low, and shades. Didn’t say her name. Just paid me a hundred pounds to walk up to you on the beach and distract you . . . I don’t really know anyone called Cassie. I made that up.’

  He brushed his blond curls off his forehead and glanced quickly round the restaurant as if to check no-one had overheard him.

  ‘How did this woman find you?’ I asked.

  Matt shrugged. ‘I was hanging outside the Boondog,’ he said. ‘She came up to me, asked if I wanted to earn some cash.’

  ‘Didn’t you ask why?’ Jam said.

  ‘Weren’t you suspicious?’ Shelby added.

  ‘No. Look, it was all over in, like, ten minutes. She turned up here, took me over to the carousel place by the beach, gave me the money and told me when to walk over to you.’

  I looked through the pizza restaurant window. Though I couldn’t hear the music from here, the carousel was clearly visible – a moving circle of prancing ponies. When Madison and I had walked past it on the morning she’d gone missing, Sonia Holtwood must have been standing there watching us. I shivered.

  ‘Matty, what’s going on?’ Lipstick Girl came over, hands on hips.

  Matt threw an appealing glance at me. ‘We’re done, aren’t we?’

  ‘In a sec.’ Jam quickly fished his phone out of his pocket. He held out a picture of Sonia Holtwood we’d found earlier. It was the best one we could get our hands on, but I knew Holtwood was easily capable of changing her appearance. ‘Is this the woman you spoke to?’

  Matt looked at the photo, then shook his head.

  ‘Maybe but, like I said, she was in a cap and shades, so it’s hard to tell.’

  ‘OK.’ Jam took his phone.

  Matt went back to his table.

  My heart sank. Matt had been our only lead to Madison and – despite what he’d told us – we’d reached a dead end.

  ‘Now what?’ Shelby turned to me, her eyes wide with fear. ‘Sonia Holtwood’s going to call you any moment and we’re no closer than we were before to finding Madison.’

  I bit my lip.

  ‘Man, she’s going to expect you to have something to add to the ransom,’ Jam said. ‘What are you going to tell her?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Feeling sick, I led the others outside and onto the promenade. It wasn’t quite as busy as yesterday, the Easter Monday bank holiday, but the beach was still full of families enjoying the heat wave.

  I tried to focus on the options. It was hard to think straight. The image of Madison in the back of that van kept forcing itself into my mind’s eye. ‘Holtwood thinks we’re still in London,’ I said. ‘Maybe I can use that.’

  ‘How?’ Shelby asked.

  My phone rang.

  I glanced at Jam. He gave me a swift, encouraging nod. I hurried into a gap between two stalls and cupped my hand over my mobile as I brought it to my mouth. I didn’t want Holtwood to hear the sounds of the seaside around me.

  ‘Hello?’ I said.

  ‘Lauren.’ The same, disguised, voice as before.

  ‘You might as well skip the filter,’ I said. ‘I know you’re Sonia Holtwood.’

  ‘Have you found whatever Sam hid?’

  The contents of the two letters flashed into my mind. Sam wasn’t my biological father. Or my sisters’. Stop it, Lauren. I couldn’t let myself get distracted.

  I also couldn’t admit the truth.

  ‘We need more time to find whatever it is,’ I lied.

  A pause. The line crackled in the silence.

  ‘More time isn’t acceptable,’ Holtwood said. ‘I told you what would happen to Madison if you didn’t come through.’

  My stomach gave a sick lurch. I had to buy us more time. It was the only way to stop Holtwood carrying out her threat.

  ‘How do I know you haven’t killed Madison already?’ I said.

  The crackle on the line stopped. For a second I could hear background sounds quite clearly: a few notes of music – strangely familiar – then some distant, excited shrieks . . . and then Madison’s voice in my ear.

  ‘Lauren, are you there?’

  ‘Yes, sweetheart I’m—’

  ‘Enough.’ The filter re-engaged and Holtwood’s snarling voice came back on the line. ‘You’re out of time,’ she snapped.

  ‘Wait, we’ve almost finished searching the flat,’ I insisted, trying to keep my voice strong. ‘We just need a bit more time.’

  Another pause. ‘I will give you another twenty minutes,’ Holtwood said. ‘But we’re finishing this tonight, one way or another.’

  The line went dead.

  ‘What happened?’ Jam said.

  My voice sounded like someone else’s – dull and flat – as I explained. ‘We’ve got twenty minutes,’ I finished.

  ‘What about Madison? Was she there?’ Shelby asked.

  I nodded. ‘And there was this music . . .’ I stopped. I was certain I’d heard those notes somewhere before – but where?

  Shelby’s eyes widened. ‘So . . . if we don’t think of something in the next twenty minutes then Holtwood will kill Madison?’

  I nodded again. What on earth were we going to do?

  ‘Maybe Mom will know about something else valuable?’ Shelby suggested excitedly.

  ‘I doubt it,’ I said, heavily. ‘I mean, between us we know what she owns and there’s hardly anything worth more than a few hundred dollars.’

  ‘What about her jewellery?’ Shelby said.

  ‘OK, but it’s not worth millions. Holtwood’s looking for “big money” stuff. That’s what she said.’

  ‘We can still try,’ Shelby said.

  ‘She’s right, Lauren,’ Jam said.

  ‘OK.’ I couldn’t see how turning to Annie at this point would help at all – but I had no alternative suggestion.

  We raced along the promenade towards the carousel. The turning for the holiday home was just past it. This was the same route I’d taken yesterday morning, after I’d lost Madison. I felt more and more sick with every step. We’d already passed the spot on the beach where we’d laid our towels. Now we passed the ice cream stall where Madison had bought our lollies, then the ladies’ toilet where I had looked for her.

  Shelby stopped as we reached the main square at the heart of the promenade. ‘If we talk to Mom we’re going to have to explain that we went to the London apartment,’ she said anxiously. ‘Mom will totally freak when she knows we kept her out of the loop.’

  ‘You’re not responsible for your mum,’ Jam said with a wry smile. ‘If she flips out it’s not your fault.’

  Shelby looked close to tears and it struck me that having Annie for your mother full time must be hard work. My own mum – my adoptive mum who I grew up with – was always so organised and sensible. Too much so, sometimes. But better that than a mother who was all over the place all the time.

  ‘What really gets me is how Holtwood managed to take Madison without anyone noticing,’ Jam said, looking round. ‘I mean, the place was more crowded when you were here yesterday and she had to get her all the way up the
road to a car or a van. You’d think Madison would have yelled out or screamed or something.’

  I stared at the carousel. It was spinning slowly round, still playing ‘The Teddy Bear’s Picnic’. There was something I wasn’t thinking of . . . some small fact, niggling away, just out of reach.

  ‘Maybe Madison did scream and everyone ignored her,’ Shelby said darkly.

  ‘Or maybe there was lots of noise,’ I said.

  The carousel beside us was certainly noisy. Only two children were riding round right now, but both were whooping with delight. ‘The Teddy Bear’s Picnic’ was still blaring out.

  ‘. . . to the woods today,

  you’re in for a big surprise.’

  I gasped. Those two notes – on ‘surprise’ – sounded suddenly familiar.

  Another whoop from one of the kids on the carousel.

  It all fell into place.

  ‘They’re here right now,’ I said. ‘Holtwood and Madison.’

  13

  Musical Direction

  ‘What?’ Jam stopped walking. ‘How can Holtwood and Madison be here? What are you talking about?’

  My pulse raced. ‘When Holtwood turned off the filter so I could hear Madison speak, I also got a blast of background noise. I heard that carousel music. Just a couple of notes, but I’m sure it was that same tune.’

  ‘You mean they’re somewhere near the carousel? Here?’ Jam looked round.

  ‘But what if Holtwood sees us?’ Shelby shrieked. ‘She’ll know you lied to her. She’ll know we’re here. Not in London.’

  ‘Behind here.’ Jam grabbed our wrists and dragged us behind the carousel booth.

  My heart thumped against my ribs. Had I just blown it again?

  ‘Oh no,’ Shelby said. ‘She’s watching us now.’

  ‘No.’ Jam took a step back from the booth. He shook his head. ‘No, that doesn’t make sense. Holtwood has no idea we’re here. There are lots of people around. Even if she was out in plain view she might not see us.’

  ‘And she isn’t in plain view,’ I said. ‘She can’t be, she’s got Madison with her, remember? She’ll be hiding somewhere.’

  Shelby nodded.

  I peered around the carousel booth, trying to take stock. We were in the central square, the beach behind us. To our left was the carousel and the path leading back to the Boondog Shack, the ice cream stalls and the restaurant where we’d met Matt.

  To our right was a small row of shops. They stood with their backs to the promenade rail. People were bustling in and out of all of them.

  Opposite us was a larger store selling all sorts of beach goods, from sunglasses to inflatable beach toys. It was even busier than the shops on our right. A row of beach huts led away from it.

  ‘How far away from the carousel would you have to be, so that the music still sounded over the phone?’ I asked.

  ‘You’d have to be close,’ Jam said.

  ‘You’re right,’ I said. ‘We couldn’t hear it outside the restaurant, earlier.’

  Shelby moved nearer, peering round the carousel booth beside me. ‘Maybe she was standing outside one of the shops,’ she suggested.

  ‘But Madison was with her,’ I said. ‘They must have been inside.’

  Shelby gazed around. ‘But all the shops are really busy.’

  ‘We have to check out the whole area,’ I said. ‘Shelby, you look around the square. Jam, why don’t you see if there’s any sign of Holtwood or Madison in the shops on the right. I’ll look opposite.’

  We split up. My palms were sweating as I ran over to the big shop opposite the carousel. One look inside confirmed that there was no way Holtwood could have made her call from its crowded aisles. There were no other shops on this side of the square. No proper buildings at all . . . just the terrace of brightly coloured beach huts stretching along the promenade.

  I rubbed my sweaty palms down the front of my jeans and set off along the row. Identical in size and shape – they were all about three or four metres square – the beach huts varied only in the colours chosen to decorate the fronts. Some were painted in bright, strong blues and reds, others in soft pastels. All of them looked well cared for. A few were occupied, with elderly couples sitting out in plastic chairs on the tiny porches.

  I sped along. Towards the end of the row of huts, the noise of the carousel music began to fade. Another few metres and it wouldn’t be audible at all, which meant there was no way I’d have heard it through Holtwood’s phone if she’d been standing here.

  The last hut seemed different from the rest. A strip of green paint was peeling off the wooden door. I looked more closely. The wooden boards along the front of the hut – some of which were nailed over the windows – were warped and worn. It looked deserted and uncared for, completely unlike the others in the row. The carousel music was quieter from here, but still clearly audible.

  I was about to turn away when I saw it. A tiny doll’s shoe. It lay on its side, half covered with dust and sand. I picked it up and my heart lurched into my mouth. This was surely Tammy’s shoe – from the pocket doll Madison had been playing with when she was taken.

  Hands shaking, I tried the hut door. It was locked. The brass lock glinted in the sun. Unlike the rest of the hut, it looked smart and expensive. I took out my phone. Seconds later Shelby and Jam appeared, running towards me.

  Jam arrived first. He skidded to a halt beside me, then gazed doubtfully from the doll’s shoe to the back of the beach hut.

  ‘Do you really think Madison could be in here?’ he whispered. ‘I can’t believe Holtwood and Frank would dare to keep her so close to the beach.’

  ‘I know, but we have to check.’ I pointed to the thin wooden slats that made up the beach hut wall. ‘Sound could travel through that.’

  I leaned against the wood. It was warm against my cheek. No noises came from inside. ‘I can’t hear anything,’ I whispered.

  I turned round as Shelby ran up. I showed her the doll’s shoe.

  ‘What are you going to do, Lauren?’ she whispered.

  ‘Find a way in,’ I said.

  I ran my palm along the weather-beaten wooden boards. I pressed each one as I passed by, but none of them were loose.

  ‘That lock looks brand new,’ Shelby whispered.

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘Which is weird on such a shabby old hut.’

  Jam examined the door carefully. ‘The lock might be new, but the wood around it is rotten,’ he said.

  I followed his gaze across the promenade. No-one was watching us. We looked at each other. Jam raised his eyebrows.

  I checked my watch. We had ten minutes until Holtwood called again. And nothing to offer her.

  This was our best option for finding Madison.

  ‘Let’s do it,’ I said.

  ‘Do what?’ Shelby squeaked.

  ‘Oh, man,’ Jam breathed. He braced himself.

  I stood beside him. ‘On three,’ I said. ‘One.’

  ‘You can’t break the door down,’ Shelby hissed.

  ‘Yes, we can,’ I said firmly. ‘Two.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Three.’ Together, Jam and I aimed our kicks squarely at the door. It flew open, revealing an apparently empty hut. I glanced quickly round. No-one had seen us.

  ‘Oh, Lauren, you can’t go in there.’ Shelby hopped from foot to foot, clearly hugely agitated.

  For a second I felt irritated with her anxiety. Then I thought about the bombshell news hidden in the letter we’d found earlier. I knew Jam was looking at me. My face burned with guilt.

  ‘We have to. There might be more clues to where Madison is,’ I said.

  ‘But—’

  ‘Wait here, then, Shelby,’ I said, and I led the way into the hut.

  14

  The Hut

  I could see immediately that there was nothing and no-one inside. The hut was totally empty.

  Jam followed me in. ‘We must have been wrong,’ he whispered. ‘There’s no sign that anyone’
s been here.’

  ‘And, by the way, you’re now breaking into someone else’s property,’ Shelby added, peering through the open door. ‘We shouldn’t be here.’

  ‘Wanna call the police again, Shelbs?’ I hissed.

  She scowled at me, her face all shadowy and spooky-looking in the dim light.

  I looked round. I was sure we were close to Madison now, but Jam was right. There was absolutely no sign that anyone else had ever been here. Treading carefully, I edged round the room, peering into the dusty corners. In the distance, the carousel music rose above the shrieks of excited children. It felt like it belonged to a different world.

  ‘There’s nothing here, Lauren,’ Shelby whispered. ‘We need to go.’

  ‘Wait.’ Jam’s voice echoed across the hut. He was standing in the far corner, peering down at something. ‘Look at this.’

  I scurried over. A scrap of blue cloth was caught between two of the floorboards. It looked like it had been torn off a larger garment.

  ‘That’s Madison’s,’ I gasped. ‘It’s from the top she was wearing when they took her.’ I examined the ground. ‘Look at the floorboards. There’re gaps between the planks here.’

  Jam sank to his knees and ran the tips of his fingers around the side of one of the boards.

  ‘There won’t be anything underneath,’ Shelby insisted. ‘Beach huts don’t have cellars or—’

  ‘Help me, Lauren,’ Jam said.

  I squatted beside him and inched my fingers around the opposite side of the board.

  ‘Ready?’ he whispered.

  I nodded.

  ‘Pull.’

  With a creak, the floorboard came away from the floor. Shelby gasped. Jam reached for the next board. I leaned over, helping him move it out of the way.

  Beneath us a man-sized hole in the earth below was clearly visible. A rope ladder hung from a metal bar at the top. I peered into the hole. The rope ladder vanished into shadows.

  ‘Do you have a torch?’ I whispered.

  ‘Funnily enough, what with it being the middle of the day I didn’t think we’d be needing one,’ Jam hissed back. He prodded the side of my jeans. ‘Use your phone.’