She Is Gone by Ben Cheetham

Author:Ben Cheetham [Cheetham, Ben]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-06-19T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Jack barely took his foot off the accelerator all the way up to The Lakes. The stunning landscape swept by in a blur. With each passing mile that Butterfly didn’t call to let him know where she was, he became more convinced his hunch was correct. The question that bothered him most now was – was she alone or with Karl? Other possibilities prodded at him like sharp sticks. Surely she wouldn’t have gone with Karl of her own free will. Would she? Not if she was Butterfly. But what if Io had come back again? What if… What if…

He raced north across lonely heaths and hills. When he was a few miles out from Gosforth, he got on the phone to Eric Ramsden. “No reported sightings of them so far,” Eric informed him. “I’ll meet you outside The Rose and Crown.”

Jack pulled in behind a blue and fluorescent yellow chequered Landrover outside the pub. A man in a police-issue short-sleeved white shirt, black tie and black trousers got out of it. Sergeant Eric Ramsden was a stocky forty-something with neat brown hair, a matching beard and a broad, earnest face, the sort of face you could trust. He extended his hand to shake Jack’s. “Good to see you, Jack, although I’d hoped next time we met it would be under better circumstances.”

Jack offered a grim smile. “Me too.”

Eric motioned to the pub. “I thought it would be best to begin at the beginning, so to speak.”

Jack nodded agreement and they headed into the pub. The lunchtime trade – a motley collection of old men, tradesmen and farm labourers – were propping up the bar. There was a distinct absence of the hikers and other tourists that usually flooded the area at that time of year. The hum of chatter died and all eyes turned towards the newcomers.

“Hello Len,” Eric said to the ruddy-faced landlord.

“Eric,” said Len, glancing up from pulling a pint. “What can I do for you?”

Jack held up his phone to display a photo of Butterfly. He swiped to a mugshot of Karl. “Have you seen either of these people today?”

“No.”

Jack showed the photos to the drinkers lined up at the bar. “Yeah, I had words with them out front,” said a sour-faced man with a greying crewcut. From the way he said ‘words’ it was evident the conversation hadn’t been pleasant.

“Are you sure it was them?”

“Yeah, they’re not exactly hard to recognise.”

So Butterfly was with Karl. A shock of adrenaline flushed through Jack at the knowledge. He struggled to keep his voice steady. “Can I ask your name?”

“Rob Baker.”

“At what time did you speak to them, Mr Baker?”

“Opening time.” His lips twisting, Rob jabbed a finger at Butterfly’s photo. “I recognised her straight away. She’s one of them psychos from the manor house.”

Jack winced internally at hearing Butterfly described as, one of them psychos. “How did she seem?”

Rob shrugged. “What do I give a shit how she seemed? I told her she’s not welcome around here.

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