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While I was on the phone to Paula, Max called Ben. He pulls up outside the house now, the tyres of his familiar car spitting gravel. It’s the exact model of car that I was pushed from; now I understand why I hated it so much.
Max waits at the open door as Ben bolts out of his car and into the house.
“Where is she?” he demands.
Seeing the crushing heartbreak turn to bright hope when he locates me, destroys me all over again.
God, how has he coped? But more importantly, why didn’t this asshole say anything either?
Like a tornado, he swoops in, gathering me in a tight embrace. The breath whooshes out of me. “I’m so sorry,” I mumble into his ear. “I had no idea.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I think that’s debatable,” I mumble into his shoulder before pulling back. I can’t stand to be around these two right now.
“It’s Max’s fault, not yours.”
Hearing Ben blame his brother-in-law is brutal. “It’s not Max’s either,” I say. He might have pushed me away, but it was my head that broke. Of course, it broke. It broke spectacularly. But that’s not anyone’s fault.
“You should’ve said something,” I reprimand, looking between them both. “I’m fucking cross—especially with you,” I level at Max. “But we’ll get to that.”
His face falls, but I concentrate on Ben, recapping what I can about his wife and where she might be. I stress that, so far, I’ve not mentioned Max or his involvement to the police, just that I remember details of a grey-eyed woman. There is no way he can mount a rescue plan without the police becausewewant these fuckers caughtI state.
“Castrated first,” Ben grits out. “It’s a big ask, Ava, but I know we have to do this the right way. Fuck, I hope we’re not too late.”
“Me too,” I tell Ben quietly, guilt rising.
“Let’s try and focus on the positive. If we can’t find her we keep trying. And we keep going until we know,” Max says. “If nothing else, we can imprison these bastards with Ava’s testimony."
Ben speaks to his contacts in the Metropolitan police, pushing them to get in touch with Cambridgeshire police to see if there are any new leads from Ava Rivas.
An hour later, Max drives me to Cambridge. We barely talk. I’m too numb, dealing with all the awful memories.
Tilly meets me at the station where I debrief Paula, Jones and Jamison over the next two hours, begging them to get in touch with the Dutch and Belgian police.
I’m assured that they’ve been doing that already. So I leave, heading back to the house to collect my passport.
“Do you have to go?” Tilly asks.
“I need to be there.”
She nods, saying softly, “How do you feel?”
“Terrified about going back. Angry at Max. Inconsolable. Heartbroken,” I add, the tears falling again.
“Oh, Ava,” she murmurs, sweeping me up in her arms. “Stay here until you get the call from the police.”
I sniff. “Ben will get it. Not me. I need to stay close so that we can fly out as soon as.”
“If you’re sure,” she replies sounding unconvinced.
Despite Max offering to collect me, Tilly drives me back to Highgate. It’s late when we arrive, and it feels strange to enter this house where I’d made new, happy memories. Where I fell in love.
I add it to the list of things I need to resolve.
Max is his usual attentive self, but he gives me more space than he would normally. It might be because Ben and Jeremy are here, both of them asking me questions and hassling the police to hurry up.
Max takes a seat next to me, the one we lounged on watchingAtonement.“Do you want to go to bed?”
