Missing: A totally addictive psychological thriller with a shocking twist Read online

  MISSING

  A TOTALLY ADDICTIVE PSYCHOLOGICAL THRILLER WITH A SHOCKING TWIST

  K.L. SLATER

  BOOKS BY K.L. SLATER

  Missing

  The Widow

  The Evidence

  The Marriage

  The Girl She Wanted

  Little Whispers

  Single

  The Silent Ones

  Finding Grace

  Closer

  The Secret

  The Visitor

  The Mistake

  Liar

  Blink

  Safe With Me

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Epilogue

  The Marriage

  Hear More from K.L. Slater

  Books by K.L. Slater

  A Letter from K.L. Slater

  The Widow

  The Evidence

  The Girl She Wanted

  Little Whispers

  Single

  The Silent Ones

  Finding Grace

  Closer

  The Secret

  The Visitor

  The Mistake

  Liar

  Blink

  Safe With Me

  Acknowledgements

  *

  To Francesca Kim, my beautiful girl x

  PROLOGUE

  1993

  The disused warehouse was massive, but Jimmy was trapped in a tiny room within it.

  Earlier, he’d climbed in through a broken window and looked around. The old metal machinery was still intact. It ran in lines up and down the vast floorspace. Some had been broken into bits by vandals, others had metal pieces stripped from them, but all towered above him like dinosaur skeletons.

  Jimmy had been in the place about ten minutes when he’d heard shuffling noises and a funny strangled noise like someone had coughed and tried to cover it up. He’d run further inside the wide-open space of the warehouse and seen a door standing open over on the far wall.

  When he’d got closer, he’d spotted an old sign hanging lopsided on it. Jimmy was the best reader in his class, if you didn’t count the new boy. He’d held the sign straight so he could see it properly and pieced the sounds together. He’d said slowly to himself: ‘Re-frig-er-ation unit.’ Everyone knew it was dangerous to hide in a fridge in case the door shut by accident and you got trapped.

  Jimmy had pushed the sign hard to watch it whizz round on itself and it had flown off, clattering to the concrete floor. He’d looked around in panic, watching and listening for movement but all was still. He’d stuck his head through the gap and squinted into the gloomy unit. There was no fridge in there.

  The shuffling sound had seemed like it was getting closer. Jimmy had stepped inside the unit and waited for his eyes to adjust. There were no windows in here. The room was very dusty, bare shelves all around it and rusty metal hooks hanging from the ceiling. The door had been weirdly thick and heavy when Jimmy had pulled it to behind him, leaving just a tiny gap.

  People at school said the warehouse was haunted by two burning women. Once a food manufacturing plant, lots of people had died here ten years ago when there was a fire and a big explosion. Nigel Burley in Year 6 had said he’d seen the two women in the Easter holidays last year. Everyone had sat quietly in a corner of the playground, listening as he’d told how they’d rushed past him screaming, their hair smoking, the flesh melting from their faces. Nigel had told them he’d thought they were real people until they both ran through a solid wall and disappeared, leaving nothing behind.

  So Jimmy had held his breath when the shuffling sound had drawn closer and he’d bit his knuckles to stop himself crying out. If the burning women pulled open the door, he would put his head down like a Spanish bull and charge forward. Ghosts weren’t real, they were like fog. You could walk right through them.

  He’d heard heavy breathing and then the door had begun to open. Jimmy had caught a scream in his throat and balled his fists ready to run. Then the door had been pushed hard from the outside, like someone had their shoulder against it. When it had closed with a clunk, the space was plunged into pitch black.

  When Jimmy had heard the big metal handle being turned on the outside and a cough, he’d known then it wasn’t the burning women who had trapped him inside. It was a real person.

  ‘Hey!’ he’d shouted into the soupy darkness, and kicked hard on the solid metal from the inside. ‘Open the door! Let me out!’

  He’d banged with his fists until his hands hurt, but the door didn’t open. He’d heard the footsteps moving quickly away and then everything fell silent.

  Someone had played a nasty trick on him, but it wasn’t funny because he’d been stuck in here for ages now and he couldn’t see a thing unless he pressed his watch. Then he could see his hand and a small circle of nothingness around it.

  It had supposed to be fun, coming out here on his own. Josie had packed him some jam sandwiches while Mum was still in bed and made up some orange cordial in an old water bottle. Josie had given him the rucksack with the picnic and said, ‘You get going, little brother.’ She’d always called him that. ‘I’ll meet you up by the old railway tracks.’

  At the exact same time he’d left the house, he’d seen Samuel Barlow coming out of his own front gate.

  ‘Hey, Jimmy. Where you off to?’

  Jimmy had looked up at his mum’s open bedroom window, worried Samuel’s shouting might wake her and she’d bang on the glass and order him back inside. ‘None of your business,’ Jimmy had replied, hooking his rucksack further on to his shoulders.

  Samuel had grinned and leaned on the gatepost. ‘Where’s your Josie at?’

  ‘She’s busy.’ Jimmy had frowned as he’d walked past their neighbour. ‘She said she doesn’t want to see you today, s
o just leave her alone.’

  Quick as a flash, Samuel had grabbed him in a headlock, pressing his face so close that Jimmy could smell his stinking breath. Jimmy bent his knees and slipped out before he could get a good hold. Samuel lunged forward to cuff his ear, but Jimmy had dodged him, nimble as a boxer. Josie hadn’t said anything of the sort, but Samuel wasn’t to know. Jimmy was sick to death of him, always hanging around, watching his sister’s every move. Josie didn’t like going out in the garden any more because of him.

  Jimmy had run the length of the street until he’d turned the corner, relieved when Samuel didn’t follow him.

  But now he was stuck in this room, he wished he’d said Samuel could come along with him. He was nineteen and big and strong. He might have been able to open the door.

  Jimmy shivered and huddled closer into the corner. He hoped the burning women didn’t pay him a visit now he couldn’t get away.

  If Josie was here, she’d know what to do. His big sister was tough and hardly ever cried. Last month, Josie had hidden Mum’s bottles so she wouldn’t get drunk before going to Jimmy’s parents’ evening. Mum had ripped the kitchen cupboards to pieces looking for them and when she’d found one, she’d cracked it over Josie’s head. She’d cried that time, but then anybody would.

  Jimmy felt confident that Josie would come looking for him soon. She would find whoever had locked him in here and batter them senseless.

  He started to feel a bit funny. His chest was sort of tight, and he couldn’t seem to get enough air inside, even when he took a big breath. It was strange because he hadn’t been running or jumping or anything like that. He’d just been sitting here, not moving at all.

  He closed his eyes and he started to half-dream, like he did sometimes just before he fell to sleep at night. He looked at his watch but he couldn’t work out how long he’d been here. He’d forgotten where his sister was, and he couldn’t remember if he should be at school or back home for his tea.

  Jimmy drifted in and out for what seemed like a long, long time and then, just as he started to slide down a dark tunnel, Josie came and sat next to him. She felt warm against the cold skin of his arm. She slid her arm around his shoulder and whispered in his ear like she always did when Mum started shouting. ‘Everything’s going to be alright, little brother.’

  He forced his heavy eyelids open to smile at her. But the darkness rushed at him and he realised that Josie wasn’t there. He shivered and wrapped his arms tighter around himself. The air around him felt like cotton wool and his breaths came in tiny little gasps.

  He wouldn’t come here next time on his own, he thought. He would stay outside, by the railway tracks… that’s what Josie had said… that’s wha…

  He wouldn’t… come here…

  Jimmy thought about splashing in the water in the garden with his sister. The way the sunshine lit up her face and her eyes sparkled and got rid of all the sadness.

  And after that, there were no more thoughts.

  ONE

  JOSIE

  2019

  I locked up the café, loaded my laptop into the boot of the car and set off for the school run. I glanced at my watch. I should just make it. It was rare for me to finish in time to pick up my eight-year-old daughter, Ivy, but I’d pulled all the stops out to do so today.

  I reversed out of my parking space and drove by the café, taking in the façade as I passed. My pride and joy that had taken over my life. I’d started Delicious Desserts about two years ago when Terry and I sold the house and got divorced.

  I’d always dreamed of opening a café, but wanted something different to the usual coffee shop. I fancied something with a twist and it was Sheena, a fellow waitress at the restaurant I worked at part-time back then, who suggested a dessert café with a menu consisting only of drinks and sweet treats.

  Growing up, I’d always enjoyed baking and her suggestion really resonated. For the first time in my life I didn’t dither, didn’t spend weeks debating the pros and cons. Instead, I’d enrolled on a food hygiene course and taken the plunge, renting the premises of a small greasy-spoon type café that had closed just a ten-minute drive from my bedsit.

  My credit score wasn’t in the best shape thanks to my meagre earnings. I knew I wouldn’t qualify for a bank loan so I took a chance and used the small amount that was my share of the house sale once our joint debts were paid. I used the two thousand pounds to pay the rental deposit and buy some chalk paint for the scratched grey chairs and tables the previous tenants had left after their moonlight flit. There was just enough to get a sign made and have some menus printed.

  I got to school just a couple of minutes before the bell rang to signal the end of the day. I rushed over to the group of parents I usually stood with, and their conversation broke up as, yet again, everyone turned to watch my last-minute arrival.

  ‘Nice of you to join us!’ my friend and Ivy’s childminder, Fiona, teased and I pressed my chest, feigning breathlessness. A few of the other mums standing in the group laughed. I knew they liked to get there early to secure their place in front of the classroom doors that opened out on to the playground. I was known affectionately as the mum who was always rushing around, always late and I laughed along with them: the capable parents. Underneath, inferiority nibbled away at the edges of me.

  ‘I had an appointment in town and ran into an accident on the bypass on the way back.’ I blew air up on to my hot face and slipped off my lightweight jacket.

  I noticed the conversation I’d interrupted did not resume and I thought I caught a couple of furtive glances sent my way.

  ‘Is everything OK?’ I whispered to Fiona. ‘People seem to have gone a bit quiet.’

  ‘Fine! Everything’s fine,’ she whispered back, looking up at the sky. Then she raised her voice again. ‘Nice day, isn’t it? Dull but warm.’

  That kicked off a new discussion among everyone about the dilemma of getting the kids to play in the garden for some fresh air, instead of them vegging in front of the TV or begging for the PlayStation.

  I soon found myself, as usual, observing the conversation but not really taking part. It wasn’t that people were unfriendly, it was just an unspoken difference I felt between me and them. I was the only single mum in the group and the only one who wasn’t free to join in with all the clubs, groups, and activities that I knew filled Fiona’s day. Nevertheless, I often got invites and I was included in a school mums’ WhatsApp group, which was so well-used I’d had to mute notifications.

  Jimmy had died twenty-six years ago. Lots of the people – adults – who’d been around at that time had either died themselves or moved away. Still, folks don’t easily forget a tragedy like that in a small town like Hucknall. It passes through the generations like an ill wind and, so long as I stick around here, I’ll forever be the murdered boy’s sister.

  ‘Nobody thinks of you in that way,’ Fiona had said dismissively when I’d told her how I felt. ‘You’re just a school mum, like any one of us.’

  Maybe she was right. Maybe being the odd one out was something I imagined. Since Jimmy’s death when I was thirteen, I’d become an expert at pushing the past away. Now, I tried only to think about the future. It had worked for me so far and spared me from the awful memories.

  Parents stepped forward as the classroom doors opened and the children began to pour out on to the playground. The adult chatter was instantly drowned out with squealing and shouting as the kids exploded across the warm tarmac with pent-up energy, their small, warm bodies darting in different directions.

  I spotted Ivy and waved. Darcy – her best friend and Fiona’s daughter – shot out and headed straight over to us. ‘We both got a sticker, Mummy!’ she cried out. ‘I got one for collecting the worksheets in this morning and—’

  ‘I got one for handing out the milk!’ Ivy blurted to me.

  ‘What clever girls we have.’ I grinned at Fiona. ‘I reckon this calls for a treat.’

  ‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ the girls chant
ed in unison.

  ‘Can we go to the milkshake parlour?’ Darcy asked hopefully and Ivy’s face brightened at the suggestion. They looked first at me and then at Fiona.

  ‘Hmm, I don’t know. Milkshake… before tea?’ Fiona raised an eyebrow. ‘What do you think, Josie?’

  ‘Maybe just this once, seeing as there were two stickers involved,’ I said to much whooping and jumping around from the girls.

  The girls bounded off towards the school gates and Fiona turned to me. ‘Well, that was a popular decision. I wanted to have a quick chat to you about something.’ She noticed my expression. ‘Nothing to worry about. It’s just… well, we can chat when we get there.’

  TWO

  The milkshake parlour was bustling with parents and kids who’d come straight from the school run like us, teenagers and a couple of older people. Fiona looked around. ‘I guess a lot of different people like milkshake.’