“You think she might have hurt herself?”
Julian’s stomach knotted. The possibility that Mia might have harmed herself hadn’t occurred to him, but now his mind flashed back to her Facebook page where she’d listed her hobbies as cutting and suicide. He thought about that look in her eyes. Thinking about it made his head swim. “No. No way.” He sounded as if he was trying to convince himself more than Eleanor.
“Something else I don’t get. Why do you need me? Why can’t you find out if she’s okay yourself?”
Julian told Eleanor about the crash, leaving out the reason for it. “Oh my God,” she exclaimed. “Are you okay?”
“I will be in a couple of days.”
“You weren’t drunk or anything, were you?”
“No, just tired and…distracted.”
Eleanor was silent a moment. Julian could sense her mind ticking over. He knew her well enough to guess what was coming. “Maybe you should call the police,” she said. “I mean, if Mia’s hurt herself-”
“She hasn’t hurt herself — at least, not in the way you mean.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
Eleanor was right, of course, but still Julian was reluctant to follow her suggestion until he had no other option. If he got the police involved, he knew Mia would never forgive him. “Look, if I really thought she’d hurt herself don’t you think I’d have called the police already.”
“I suppose.” Eleanor sighed. “Okay, Julian, I’ll do it. But if I can’t find her-”
“If you can’t find her, I’ll phone the police.”
Julian started describing Mia to Eleanor as she’d looked when he first saw her. Then, realising his mistake, he broke off and described her as she’d looked the previous evening. “You sure about that?” Eleanor asked. “That’s a pretty radical image change. They sound like two different girls.”
“I’m sure, unless she’s dyed her hair back to its original colour.”
“Well it’ll be a lot easier to pick her out of a crowd if she has.”
Julian told Eleanor where Mia went to school, where she lived. “And if you come across her foster dad, don’t mention it was me who sent you,” he cautioned. He paused, before continuing awkwardly, “Thing is, he’s somehow got it into his head that me and Mia…well, that we’re, you know, screwing each other.”
“Why would he think that?” Eleanor asked in a quieter, frowning tone of voice.
“I don’t know, but he’s way, way off the mark.”
“Honestly?”
“I’ve got a lot of faults, Ellie, like most people do, but I’m not a liar.”
Again a moment’s silence, again a deep intake of breath at the other end of the line. “If I’m going to do this, I’d better get moving. I’ll be in touch as soon as I’ve got anything to tell you.”
The hours seemed to stretch as Julian waited to hear from Eleanor. His mum came to see him, but his attention kept drifting to his phone and laptop, and she soon gave up on trying to have a conversation. “Turn those things off and get some rest,” she gently remonstrated.
Julian closed his laptop, but the moment his mum was gone he flipped it open again. He tried phoning Eleanor a couple of times, but to his frustration she didn’t answer. By late afternoon he was wound so tight with waiting that he flinched at a knock on his bedroom door. Wanda poked her head into the room. “Eleanor Hill’s here. She says-”
“Show her in,” Julian interrupted. The instant he saw Eleanor’s face he knew something was up, and the knot in his stomach coiled tighter. “You didn’t find her, did you?”
“No. I waited outside her school, but I didn’t see her. So I went to her house. Her foster dad answered the door. When I asked if Mia was in, he gave me this really suspicious look and asked who I was. I told him I was a friend of Mia’s, and he said she wasn’t in. So I asked if he knew where I could find her, and he said, you tell me, she didn’t come home last night and she wasn’t in school today. And then he asked if I knew you. I said no, but it was obvious he didn’t believe me, and as I was leaving he shouted after me, if you find them, tell them they won’t get far. I think he thinks you’ve run off together or something.”
“Run off,” murmured Julian, his face creasing.
“So are you going to call the police?”
Julian nodded, reaching for his phone and dialling slowly. He knew he had no choice, but in some strange way Eleanor’s words had made him more, not less reluctant to contact the police. When Tom Benson picked up, he said, “I need to speak to you about Mia Bradshaw.”
“That’s funny,” replied the detective, “I was about to phone and say the same thing to you. I need you to come down to the station for a chat.”
Julian guessed at once that Mia’s foster dad had beaten him to phoning the police. He explained about his neck. “Ah, yes, I heard about that,” said the detective. “Well, in that case, I’ll come to you.”
Julian thought about his parents. Almost as much as he wanted to find Mia, he wanted to avoid causing them — especially his mum — anymore upset. “Can’t we do this over the phone?”
“I’m afraid this is too serious for that.”
“When are you coming?”
“Now.”
Julian hung up and said to Eleanor, “You’d better go.”
She looked at him with concern. “Are you sure? I can stay if you want.”
“There’s no need.” Whatever the policeman might have to say to him, Julian didn’t want Eleanor, or, for that matter, anybody else to hear it.
Eleanor heaved a sigh. “God, I really hope nothing bad’s happened to Mia.”
No matter what’s happened to her, it’s too late to hope that, thought Julian, but he said, “I hope so too.”
“First one girl goes missing and turns up dead. Then, just a few days later, her best mate goes missing too.” Eleanor shook her head. “It’s crazy. I mean, like, what’s going on in this town?”
“To know that, you’d have to know what really happened to Joanne Butcher.”
“She OD’d.”
“Yeah, but what made her OD?”
“Nothing made her OD. It was an accident.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
Eleanor frowned. “Are you suggesting someone might’ve killed her on purpose?”
“I don’t know what I’m suggesting. I just get the feeling there’s more to it than a simple overdose.” Julian stopped himself from saying anymore. He’d already let out more than he intended to.
“Why?”
Julian shrugged. “I haven’t got any answers. Like I said, it’s just a feeling. I’m probably totally wrong.”
Eleanor raised an eyebrow, obviously not satisfied by his answer, but she didn’t press him. A little hesitantly, she reached to lay her hand on his arm. Her touch seemed even softer than he remembered. It stirred the desire he’d always felt for her. “I know how badly you want to find Mia, but I think you should leave this to the police now. If you’re right, if there’s more to Joanne Butcher’s death than a horrible accident, you could be getting yourself mixed up in something dangerous.” Her fingers flexed lightly against his wrist. “I couldn’t stand it if anything bad happened to you, Julian.”
He tried to smile reassuringly. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. How can it when I’m stuck in bed?”
Eleanor released his wrist. “Will you call me? Soon?”
Julian nodded. When Eleanor was gone, he shouted Wanda. “Where’s Mum?” he asked.
“In the garden.”
“Good. There’s a policeman coming here to talk to me. Will you keep her outside until he’s gone?”
Wanda frowned. “You know I don’t like keeping things from her.”
“Neither do I usually. But she’s already had more than enough worry these last few days, don’t you think?”
Wanda regarded Julian uncertainly a moment, then nodded. “Okay, I’ll try, but no promises.”
When Tom Benson turned up, Wanda showed him through to Julian’s bedroom. He seated himself, pen and notebook in hand. “Why don’t we start with you telling me what you’ve got to tell me?” he said.
“I’m worried about Mia Bradshaw. I think she might be in trouble.”