Liam nodded. “One night would turn to two, then three, four, five, and when finally his mum came to get him, we’d say to each other that we’d never turn him away and one day we’d keep him for good.”
I close my eyes.
“I turned him away, Ryker. I shut the door in his face. What if he’s gone?”
“He hasn’t.”
“You said he was having problems at work.” Liam leans up to stare at the building in front of us. “What if he’s been fired or quit and he’s taken off? What if, even with my police resources and your network of friends, we can’t find him?”
“He said we’d talk tonight, and I believe him, Liam. I still believe him. I think we should wait until eight to be sure, then drive back to ours and see if he’s there.”
“And if he’s not?”
For once, I choose silence as my answer.
17
Freddie
They stop outside the building from four until eight, andthank godI moved my car at twelve. It’s a few streets away, parked parallel to the curb where there’s no pavement but there is a painted white line. Whatever that means. I’ve been driving since I was eighteen, and it shames me to admit I have no clue.
Liam would know.
I went back inside, and lost myself in work, but during a trip to the canteen for a drink, I saw their cars. Two intimidating 4x4s parked in the back row of spaces. They’d reversed into their spots, and both cars faced the building. I ducked down on instinct before cursing myself and standing upright. They couldn’t see me. There’s a film over the windows in here, which means no one can see in but we can look out, although the road, trees, and buildings opposite have a grey tint like a newspaper filter.
It’s grim, but I’m thankful for it now.
Ryker and Liam couldn’t see me.
All they saw was a reflection of the sky.
When the day winds down, I hide in the toilets and wait for Stephen to lock up. He might pause at the front doors and wait for me, but the car park will thin out, and he’ll realise my car has gone.
He’ll think he missed me, then he’ll speed down the road in his freshly waxed Porsche to get home.
Ryker calls again, but I let it go to voicemail. I’ve got missed calls and messages from both of them, but I’m not ready for our talk yet. I need to be sure I’m alone for the night.
I didn’t move my car just so Ryker and Liam would believe I’d gone; I did it so Stephen would be unaware I’m staying here too. He’ll grow suspicious if he arrives early tomorrow and my car is in the same spot. I’ll fetch it tomorrow morning, and drive into the car park after him giving the illusion I went home for the night.
Right now, the canteen upstairs is my home.
When I moved the car earlier, I also grabbed a few bits from the shops. A blanket, eye mask, and an air freshener, the glass type where wooden sticks poke from the top.
I stay in the locker room for an hour before easing the door open to check no one’s here. There’s a faint buzz from the lights, but nothing else. Even so, I sneak upstairs to the canteen, holding my breath and darting glances over my shoulder.
I relax once I’m inside, and although it’s early, I arrange mycotfor the night. The duvets and pillows in the supermarket had been tempting, but I would’ve struggled to get them inside the building without someone noticing.
People would talk, and now I know I’m not in Stephen’s firing line, I don’t want to throw him a gun and tell him to shoot me.
I rip open the air freshener, then drag a table close to stand it on. It chases away the lingering scent of a thousand lunches and helps me relax. I eat a sandwich I bought earlier, then down abottle of orange juice with the hope it will give me enough energy for the conversations ahead.
It’s nine thirty when I lie down with my rucksack as a pillow and accept Ryker’s call.
“Freddie,” he says, and his relief comes through the phone loud and clear. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I tell him, but the way he said my name has knocked me off-kilter and there’s a waver to my voice.
“Freddie . . .”
