Page 81 of The Black Trilogy

“I’m sure it’s fine. Honestly, don’t worry. I had the music on loud so I bet she’s snuck up to her room.”

I didn’t want to panic Arabella, but I knew full well Tia wasn’t in the house. I may have been rusty, but I wasn’t dead. And that meant I wanted to check the route myself before calling Luke. A bit of the real me stirred deep in my soul, and I ran upstairs to change. Dark colours were the order of the day—a navy blue jacket, dark red jeans, and brown boots.

Why didn’t I wear black? Because I wasn’t a ninja, that’s why. Sure, it went with everything, but if you’re skulking around in the dark dressed in black from head to foot, you might as well tattoo “burglar” across your forehead.

Before I left, I slipped a knife into my pocket. When Luke wasn’t around, I’d got back into the habit of carrying a little something, and thanks to a dude in the pub, I had my weapon of choice. Over the years, I’d become so familiar with carrying an Emerson CQC-7, it was like an extension of my hand. I’d worked the mechanism on this one until it was smooth as Sean Connery.

Right, time to go. I set the alarm on my way out the door, although it wouldn’t stop someone like me. It’d barely even slow me down.

The streetlight between Luke’s home and Arabella’s was out, the lane pitch black. Coincidence? I checked underneath—no broken glass. Keeping to the shadows, I traced Tia’s usual route. On the plus side, I didn’t find her lying in a ditch. The not so good news? I didn’t find any sign of her at all. On the way back, I slowed down and used my torch.

I’d almost got back to Luke’s when I saw something that made my chest seize. A few scuffs, barely visible at the edge of the kerb. A fresh tyre track marked the dirt in the gutter, its tread distinct. I flipped a coin next to it for scale and took a photo with my phone.

It might be nothing, but my intuition wasn’t convinced.

Luke turned into the driveway as I got back. He’d taken his SUV today, grumbling about the salty roads. A Porsche Cayenne the same as my husband used to drive, except Luke’s was red instead of black and it didn’t have the souped-up engine. Right now, the sight of it felt like an omen.

As Luke pulled into the garage, I let myself in through the front door. By the time he came through the internal door, I was waiting.

“Have you heard from Tia?”

“Why would I? She always calls you.”

“She hasn’t come home, and she left Arabella’s over an hour ago.”

He shrugged. “Maybe she went to see Mother? She mentioned picking up some art stuff. Or she could be visiting another friend. She always used to sneak out in the evenings.”

Once, possibly, but not now. “Could you give your mother a call and check?”

Luke’s sigh told me I was overreacting, but he humoured me and pulled out his phone. He wandered upstairs to change while he made the call.

A few minutes later, he came back, looking marginally more concerned. “Mother hasn’t seen her for over a week. She can’t remember exactly when.”

Figured.

I called Arabella back. “Turns out Luke and Tia had a bust up. She’s run off, and I need to track her down. Can you give me the numbers of her friends? I don’t know if she’s got money on her for a taxi back.”

Luke looked peeved when I ended the call. “We didn’t have a bust up.”

“I know that, but I don’t want to worry more people than necessary.”

“Are you worried?”

I was when I got off the phone to her friends. Nobody had seen Tia since school that afternoon.

“I’m calling the police,” Luke said.

I could hardly tell him not to, but inwardly I groaned. My cover was on thin ice. He paced the lounge as he muttered into the phone then hung up with a frown.

“Graham says nobody’s reported any accidents, and if she hasn’t turned up by morning, he’ll stop by and take a report.”

“Graham? Is that the prick we met in the pub the other day?”

Luke nodded. Marvellous. Graham, the local constable, had struggled to detect his own vehicle in the car park at the end of the evening. Finding a missing person was well beyond his abilities. Now what? If harm had come to Tia, I wasn’t averse to getting the chief constable out of bed, but I wanted to rule out other possibilities first.

“I’m calling the hospitals. I don’t trust Graham,” I said.

“I’ll go out in the car. She might have gone to the stables. Or the shop.” A note of desperation crept into Luke’s voice. “Or the pub.”

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