fake that kind of fear. But was it fear for his daughter or himself?
Jennifer rose to answer the door, but Fiona had beaten her to it, and she groaned as a strident voice filled the hall. DCI Anderson gave her a curt nod, before following Fiona and Nick into the kitchen. Jennifer’s spirits lifted as Will stepped in behind him, smartly suited, with his beard neatly trimmed. He must have bagged the job as the DCI’s driver to see her. She stood at the door, her attention drawn to a van in the distance. She glanced past Fiona as the white Transit van abruptly pulled over onto the side of the road.
‘I don’t suppose you know who owns that van, do you?’
Fiona squinted, pulled her glasses from her pocket, and then stared outside. ‘Oh. It’s Radcliffe, the local handyman. He probably doesn’t want to intrude.’
Jennifer recalled the man in the parka, who had glared at her with mistrustful eyes. ‘He can come if he wants. I’m going to have to speak to him at some point anyway,’ she said, before closing the front door. ‘Could you do me a favour and tell Joanna we have guests?’
Fiona nodded and took the stairs.
Jennifer followed everyone into the kitchen. Will’s suit had been dry cleaned, which meant he must have had fair warning he’d be driving for the DCI. So much for recuperation, she thought, pulling out a chair at the table and sitting down. Now was not the time to catch his eye. She was all too aware of her DCI, standing stiffly as he waited for Joanna to join them. Nick took a seat, straining to keep a professional front. His fingers were tightly clasped together as he stared stoically ahead, but Jennifer knew that inside he was crumbling.
‘You didn’t have any problems opening the gate, then?’ Jennifer asked, more to break the silence than anything else.
Will shook his head. ‘We drove straight through. It was wide open.’
Nick looked at him, confused. ‘But we closed it last night, and hung the “No Trespassers” sign to keep the journalists out.’
‘I didn’t see any sign,’ Will replied. ‘The press have been all over Haven, but they’ve been turning up at your old address.’
‘Who left the gate open, then?’ Nick said, his head swivelling as Joanna walked into the kitchen.
Jennifer would have expected her to look wretched, with puffy eyes and hair askew. Instead, her morning lie-in had afforded her a refreshed face, her colourful vintage clothes adding a splash of glamour. If her demeanour surprised DCI Anderson, he didn’t show it. Joanna took a seat, the question on her face not urgent enough to reach her lips: had they found her daughter?
‘I’ll keep my visit brief,’ DCI Anderson said, taking a chair. ‘As you know, DC Knight has been assigned to provide updates, but I’d like to speak to you both about conducting a press appeal.’
‘They haven’t found any evidence yet, have they?’ Nick asked, drumming the table with bitten-down nails.
‘Helicopters have scoured the area since first light. It’s difficult with the woodlands, of course.’ His gaze returned to Joanna. ‘The technology picks up heat sources but the trees block their radars.’
‘Oh, so that’s what the noise was this morning,’ Joanna said, smiling politely, with all the interest of someone discussing servicing their car.
Jennifer caught Will’s puzzled expression. Even the sight of him gave her a little tingle inside. He glanced back, and she flushed as she dropped her gaze to her notepad. The last thing she wanted was their DCI cottoning on that they were seeing each other. He’d have them on opposite shifts at the drop of a hat.
Over the next thirty minutes, DCI Anderson brought them up to date on the numerous enquiries taking place. Jennifer monitored Nick’s gaze as he drew upon every word, the DCI trying to provide what little comfort he could.
‘I wouldn’t give up hope just yet. Abigail is unfamiliar with the area and may have become disorientated. The woods are
Jennifer rose to answer the door, but Fiona had beaten her to it, and she groaned as a strident voice filled the hall. DCI Anderson gave her a curt nod, before following Fiona and Nick into the kitchen. Jennifer’s spirits lifted as Will stepped in behind him, smartly suited, with his beard neatly trimmed. He must have bagged the job as the DCI’s driver to see her. She stood at the door, her attention drawn to a van in the distance. She glanced past Fiona as the white Transit van abruptly pulled over onto the side of the road.
‘I don’t suppose you know who owns that van, do you?’
Fiona squinted, pulled her glasses from her pocket, and then stared outside. ‘Oh. It’s Radcliffe, the local handyman. He probably doesn’t want to intrude.’
Jennifer recalled the man in the parka, who had glared at her with mistrustful eyes. ‘He can come if he wants. I’m going to have to speak to him at some point anyway,’ she said, before closing the front door. ‘Could you do me a favour and tell Joanna we have guests?’
Fiona nodded and took the stairs.
Jennifer followed everyone into the kitchen. Will’s suit had been dry cleaned, which meant he must have had fair warning he’d be driving for the DCI. So much for recuperation, she thought, pulling out a chair at the table and sitting down. Now was not the time to catch his eye. She was all too aware of her DCI, standing stiffly as he waited for Joanna to join them. Nick took a seat, straining to keep a professional front. His fingers were tightly clasped together as he stared stoically ahead, but Jennifer knew that inside he was crumbling.
‘You didn’t have any problems opening the gate, then?’ Jennifer asked, more to break the silence than anything else.
Will shook his head. ‘We drove straight through. It was wide open.’
Nick looked at him, confused. ‘But we closed it last night, and hung the “No Trespassers” sign to keep the journalists out.’
‘I didn’t see any sign,’ Will replied. ‘The press have been all over Haven, but they’ve been turning up at your old address.’
‘Who left the gate open, then?’ Nick said, his head swivelling as Joanna walked into the kitchen.
Jennifer would have expected her to look wretched, with puffy eyes and hair askew. Instead, her morning lie-in had afforded her a refreshed face, her colourful vintage clothes adding a splash of glamour. If her demeanour surprised DCI Anderson, he didn’t show it. Joanna took a seat, the question on her face not urgent enough to reach her lips: had they found her daughter?
‘I’ll keep my visit brief,’ DCI Anderson said, taking a chair. ‘As you know, DC Knight has been assigned to provide updates, but I’d like to speak to you both about conducting a press appeal.’
‘They haven’t found any evidence yet, have they?’ Nick asked, drumming the table with bitten-down nails.
‘Helicopters have scoured the area since first light. It’s difficult with the woodlands, of course.’ His gaze returned to Joanna. ‘The technology picks up heat sources but the trees block their radars.’
‘Oh, so that’s what the noise was this morning,’ Joanna said, smiling politely, with all the interest of someone discussing servicing their car.
Jennifer caught Will’s puzzled expression. Even the sight of him gave her a little tingle inside. He glanced back, and she flushed as she dropped her gaze to her notepad. The last thing she wanted was their DCI cottoning on that they were seeing each other. He’d have them on opposite shifts at the drop of a hat.
Over the next thirty minutes, DCI Anderson brought them up to date on the numerous enquiries taking place. Jennifer monitored Nick’s gaze as he drew upon every word, the DCI trying to provide what little comfort he could.
‘I wouldn’t give up hope just yet. Abigail is unfamiliar with the area and may have become disorientated. The woods are
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