Page 50 of Then She Vanished

Ruth pulled up at the nature park, leaving her car in the car park opposite the closed café. The police kept trying to call her back. She cut the calls. If the messenger knew she’d called the police, they might run, and she’d never see Elissa again.

An owl hooted in the distance and there was no one around. The nights were getting cooler now and she’d left the house without a jacket.

Back in 1994, she’d sat on the bench in these very grounds, eating ice cream with Elissa. She crossed the car park, walked for a few seconds down the path and headed to their bench while she carried on replaying that day in her mind. Her daughter had decided to ditch school and start working at that awful café full-time. Gary had gone ballistic, walking out of the house to go to the pub after he’d shouted at her.

Ruth tried to hold back her tears as she remembered the arguing in their house earlier that day. All the neighbours had heard, in fact, Elissa’s disappearance had led the neighbours to blame her and Gary to begin with. People said he was a hot-headed, disciplinarian father, who was too strict, and they said Ruth had been a bad mother, leaving her daughter at home all day to her own devices.

People had been so quick to judge and the police had put them through the wringer.

What if Gary had something to do with their daughter’s disappearance? He was so strict with Elissa, and with every boundary she pushed he’d punish her. Their house had been like a war zone every time she left for work at that café.

Ruth had never lost hope that Elissa was still out there. She reread the messages and another popped up.

Head to the car park.

Her knees felt like jelly as she stood, and the trembling in her lower legs was making her feel unsteady on her feet. The woman messaging was risking everything to help her get to the truth.

All those years of looking had drained her and Gary. Several years ago, they’d literally given up. The police had said, at the time, that Elissa had got in with a bad crowd who hung around the streets drinking and shoplifting.

Who was the messenger scared of?

She kept walking and finally spotted headlights through the shrubs. Then it went dark again.

She crept along the winding park path until she reached a white van. There was no one inside. She pressed her nose against the driver’s window and all she could see was the edge of an object dangling from the rear-view mirror as it caught the moon’s light.

It was a chess piece – the white knight.

A flash of material then caught her gaze. Her heart almost stopped as she saw the cupcake scarf on the passenger seat.

‘Elissa,’ she called, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

A heavy object struck the back of her knees. She turned to see who it was as her legs buckled, her knee crunching on the grittyroad. Her leggings tore and hot wetness began to spread around her knee. She knew she’d been cut and was bleeding.

Placing her hand on the wound, she flinched. There was so much blood.

‘Elissa,’ she shouted. Maybe her daughter was in the van?

She went to crawl away, dragging herself across the car park, but her attacker was right behind her. She grabbed what was in her pocket, but how was her card wallet, phone and scrunched tissue able to help?

Her wallet fell open and a couple of cards slipped out. As she glanced up, all she could see was the outline of a person holding a bat, wearing a mask.

Her attacker’s eyes glinted as the moonlight caught them, just before the bat was brought down on her head.

Her phone rang. It had to be the police or Gary.

She hoped it was the police. If it was, they might come for her.

She flung her wallet as far as she could.

As she lay there dizzy, she tried to speak, but her voice came out like a gargle.

In her mind’s eye, all she could see was her beautiful Elissa. First the little girl whom she loved more than anything in the whole world, then the angry teen eating an ice cream in the very park Ruth was now lying in.

She went to scream and then felt the full blow of the bat again. She knew, then, he wouldn’t stop until he’d killed her.

THIRTY-TWO

GIRL

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