Broken Home by Roberta Kray

Author:Roberta Kray
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Crime, General, Mystery & Detective, Action & Adventure, Fiction
ISBN: 9780748123001
Publisher: Sphere
Published: 2016-11-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-nine

Hope smiled through her disappointment, raised her glass and took another sip of the weak vodka and tonic. It was getting on for closing time, last orders had just been called and her plan had come to nothing. Alcohol might have loosened people’s tongues, but no useful revelations had slipped from their lips. No big secrets, no small ones, not even the sniff of a lead. Sharon, who she hadn’t seen since Tuesday, had had nothing new to offer either.

‘It’s Evelyn I feel sorry for. The poor kid really misses her. She could text at least, let her know she’s okay. It ain’t too much to ask, is it.’

‘Aren’t you worried?’ Hope had asked. ‘I mean, it’s odd her taking off and leaving all her stuff behind. You don’t think . . . ’

‘Nah, Connie can take care of herself. She’ll come back when she feels like it. Or when she runs out of dosh.’

It had been said with a breeziness that Hope found surprising, as if there wasn’t anything to be alarmed about. But perhaps in this strange new world she’d entered, it wasn’t that unusual for someone to drift in and out of other people’s lives. To not be missed, Hope thought, was a terrible thing. And yet Connie was missed. Evelyn missed her. Lana missed her. She may have disappeared without a trace, but she hadn’t been forgotten.

The chat with Sharon had kindled a brief group discussion, but no one had offered up any fresh insights into where Connie had gone or why, and after a while the conversation had moved on. Since then, Hope hadn’t felt able to raise the subject again without arousing suspicion. Curiosity was one thing, persistent questioning quite another.

Hope glanced around the busy pub. The Fox was obviously a regular meeting place for Lana and her mates, providing an opportunity to catch up on the news and exchange gossip. Other girls, as well as the occasional bloke, had been coming and going all evening, some of them only staying for a few minutes, others for an hour or so. Much of the talk had been about the latest victim of the Whisperer. It was the first time Hope had heard the name, and it made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck.

The creepy guy, Pony, had shown up shortly after they’d arrived, adding to her feelings of fear and apprehension. She remembered the way he’d stared, his eyes quite blatantly roaming up and down her body again, as if he was mentally undressing her. She would have liked to have asked him about Connie, to gauge his reaction, but shied away from the prospect. He was the type of guy who would view even the most formal of approaches as a sign of sexual interest.

Although Hope had deliberately avoided meeting his gaze, she’d made a point of watching him. He’d contributed nothing, not a word, as the girls around the table related the latest tales of the Whisperer’s brutality and torture.

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