Page 73 of Breaking the Dark

He hisses at her as she leans down to try to pick him up.

“Geez,” she says and backs away. “Let me in, dude,” she says, but he hisses again.

From outside comes the sound of feet crunching over gravel, and Jessica peers down the stairs just as the door opens, and Debra comes in followed by two police officers in uniform, who look up at her, curiously.

“This is my friend, Jessica,” Debra says to the officers. “She was just about to leave. I don’t really think she needs to be here for this.”

The female officer looks Jessica up and down.

Jessica fixes her with a direct gaze and says in a voice filled with certainty and strength, “My name is Jessica Jones. I’m not Debra’s friend. I’m actually a private investigator working on behalf of a client in New York to find out what happened to her children when they were here in the UK over the summer. My client has good reason to believe that something bad happened to them and that it was something to do with a young girl named Belle. I have spent time here with Belle and Debra, and I believe that Belle and Grace Partridge are the same person, that Debra has exercised some kind of control over Belle to keep her here, and that Debra has something to do with her abduction, and the abductions of Audrey Hill-Lock and Amina Sultanov, using an Instagram account as a grooming platform. I don’t know where the other girls are, but I have a very strong feeling that Debra will be able to tell you.”

The officers stare at her, and then at each other. Then both of them run up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and Jessica stands and waits until a moment later she sees them return with Belle, who is wrapped in her comforter, startled and small. The female officer has her arm around her while the male officer calls for an ambulance on his walkie-talkie.

Jessica exhales with relief at the sight of the girl. “I’m at the Manston Oak Inn if you want to come and talk to me later, but I’m leaving this place now. I’ve been here long enough.”

She gives Debra one last look before she grabs her coat off the peg by the door, unplugs her phone from the wall, pulls on her boots, and strides out across the overgrown grounds. At the rusty gates, she presses the button beneath the foliage and waits for them to swing open. For a moment she worries that something will happen and that she will be forever trapped, like Belle.

But then she remembers she’s not as malleable as normal folk, that she has freed herself from whatever spell Debra cast upon her and now, unlike poor Grace Partridge, she is free to walk out of here. She puts one foot across the threshold, and then another, and then another, and soon she is striding through the narrow country lanes, the purple moon just starting its placid ascent through the grimy night sky. With shaking hands, she pulls her phone out of her pocket and sees that she has full charge and enough signal to make a call. She brings up Malcolm’s number.

“Jessica. Shit. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m okay. I’m out. The police came. Was it you? Did you call them?”

“Yeah, well, I asked Elliot to, because my mom would complain about the international charge. But when I saw you on the drone footage, I knew something was seriously wrong. I mean, shit, Jessica, you were wearing a crop top.”

Jessica glances down and realizes that she is indeed wearing a crop top. She subconsciously pulls at it with her free hand as she walks.

“I sent Elliot a link to that weird Insta account, so he could send it to the cops over there. See if the IP address was a match. Was that okay?” says Malcolm. “Did I do okay?”

“Yeah. You did good. Like, really good, Malcolm. The IP address was a match and the cops have got this now. They’ll take over the case, find the girls. I’m done here. I need to get back. This isn’t good for me, I shouldn’t be here. I want to be home…. I don’t know what happened to me in there. I don’t know what she’s done to me. I could have died. I could have…It was like…”

Suddenly she is holding back tears as confusion and guilt flood her system. Malcolm says, “Jessica, do you want me to call someone? Are you okay?”

“No, no, I’m not okay. I’m really not. And no, don’t call anyone. I just need…I need to come home. The police have this now. I’m going to call Amber, ask her to arrange my flights. So just, you know, stay tuned. And seriously, Malcolm, just back off this whole thing, okay? I don’t want you involved anymore. It’s too dangerous. I think I only managed to get away because I have some kind of built-in defenses, you know. But you don’t have them. So please, just stay home tonight. Keep away from the twins. I’ll tell Amber you’re off the case too. Promise me, Malcolm. Just promise.”

“Er, sure,” he replies.

Jessica stops walking. “Seriously.”

“Yeah. Seriously. But Jessica, what was it? What was the deal? I saw you, on the drone footage. You were, like, so weird, you were like the twins. You said you were perfect.”

“Crap. Did I?”

“Yeah, I can send you the footage, I have it in my phone.”

“Yeah, that’d be good. Thank you. Because listen, Malcolm, I can’t remember anything. I mean, I remember shreds, snatches. I remember kind of floating around, eating popcorn, watching movies. I remember the drone, kinda. But basically, the last day is like a blur.”

“Do you have any idea what happened to you?”

“No, Malcolm. I seriously don’t have a freaking clue. I just need to get home. Get my head back together. Now stay safe. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“And keep away from the twins.”

“Yeah.”

“Promise me.”

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