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Rick
“Did you find her?” I bark down the phone at Ryder.
“Not a fucking peep. And enough with the snapping, man. We’ll find her.”
I close my eyes, squeezing the bridge of my nose.
“I’ll be back in thirty, and then we can go over where else she might have gone. In the meantime, have another coffee and eat something. Maybe you won’t be so hangry when I get back.”
Before I can reply, the line goes dead. Cheeky fucker.
I make myself another coffee and call her mobile again, only to be met by the same ‘the person you have called is unavailable’ message.
When I couldn’t find Jess, I sought out the policewoman that spoke to her. But all she could tell me was that Jess looked shaken up, like she’d had a shock, and mumbled something about how’s this possible before she took off.
I even had Ryder drop me at her flat, but when I arrived, she wasn’t there. After waiting an hour, I came back to my flat in London.
At that point, I didn’t think my evening could get any worse. If only that had been true.
Realising there was nothing more I could do, I checked the emails I’d received before it all went to shit. One was a detailed report on Jess’ car from my friend Toby, the road traffic investigator, confirming my suspicions about the brakes. Someone had tampered with Jess’ brakes with the intention of causing her to crash.
I’m not entirely sure I can explain the feeling that tramped through my body at warp speed thinking about Jess being hurt or the synonymous urge to hunt down whoever did it and rip them apart piece by tiny fucking piece.
It’s a feeling I haven’t had since Kuffs was killed, and I wanted to rain hell down on everyone in that damn building and punish every doctor and nurse that couldn’t save my wife.
The fact Jess was inducing those same feelings in me knocked me for six. But it did force me to accept I had feelings for Jess. Feelings I had no right to feel, feelings I didn’t deserve.
The second email was a slap in the face. Blatantly reminding me of my past transgressions. When I saw the anonymous email address, I should have deleted it, but something pushed me to open it. And just as I knew it would, another video of me loaded on the screen, only this time Kuffs was there too.
The video is almost identical to my dream the other night at Jess’, and the same one I’ve had twice more since I was home.
I sent it to Dean, but I’m not holding my breath that he’ll get anything from it. The first one was untraceable, so no doubt this new one is the same.
The man that approached Max at the school hasn’t been seen since either. I’m not sure if he was looking to send his son there, as he claimed, or if Drew’s presence around the school has deterred him. I’ve asked Scott to stay in London for now in case I need him.
I hear the front door, and two seconds later, Ryder walks into the kitchen. He and Cam stayed here last night, while Jamison stayed with Ryder’s parents.
“Hey. I checked with the hotel, and her car is still there. She’s got to pick it up at some point. So, you head there, and I’m going to take Cam to my parents’ house and come back.”
I’m up out of my seat before Ryder even finishes his sentence. Snatching up my phone and keys, I race for the door.
The car drive to the hotel is a slow kind of torture as my mind fills with unanswered questions. Jess looked like she’d seen a ghost last night when she looked at me before she ran. I don’t understand what could have spooked her so damn much, but I intend to get answers. When I finally find her that is.
I get stuck behind every Sunday driver possible going at a snail’s pace and every fucking traffic light turns red when I reach it. It’s like the whole world and his wife is against me finding her.
When I arrive at the hotel, it’s quiet, and there’s police tape cordoning off the front entrance. I don’t stop at the front, instead driving round to the car park.
Despite the hotel being empty, there are still a significant number of cars parked here. As I round the last car at the end of the first row, a flash of red brake lights catches my eye as they disappear round the corner towards the exit.
I quickly scan the rest of the cars in this row as I drive by, just to be sure, but I know that was Jess leaving.
Pulling back out into the street, I spot her a few cars ahead and drop in behind a black Mercedes. I follow her all the way to Soho Square, where she takes a right, and I get stuck at the traffic lights.
I tap my hand on the steering wheel impatiently, getting more and more forceful the longer I wait for the lights to turn green. I screech off round the corner as soon as it turns amber, narrowly missing the last car from the other direction.
Not seeing her, I slam my hand against the steering wheel before taking a calming breath and focusing back on looking for her.
Thankfully, it’s still early with little traffic on the road, except the idiot slow pokes, which allows me to meander my way down the road, checking down each turn off as I go. When I reach the second to last turning, I spot her car parked halfway down on the right. Checking there’s no one behind me, I reverse enough to be able to turn down the road and pull up behind her car.
