Lewis nodded. ‘I’ll keep my fingers crossed.’

‘Fingers and everything else, Ray.’

Kesey called Lewis back as he went to walk away, touching his elbow. She lowered her voice, speaking in a whisper. ‘Did you notice the plaster on Dale’s knuckles?’

Lewis tensed but hid it well. ‘Yeah, I’ll have a quick word with him in the car park.’

Kesey had intended to speak to Dale herself, but she decided to let it go. ‘Okay, I’ll leave it with you.’

‘I’m going to be out and about all day with the search teams if you need me.’

‘Yeah, okay, no problem.’

‘I’ll see you in the morning, boss.’

‘Give me a ring immediately if you come up with anything useful, yeah?’

He could see the anxiety in her eyes. ‘Yes, of course.’

Kesey looked towards the parents as they prepared to leave, the last of the press having left the room, their conversations at an end. ‘I wish Megan hadn’t said quite as much as she did.’

‘Oh, come off it. Fuck convention. The woman spoke with passion. That’s what matters. And who can blame her? You never know, it may even do us some good.’

Kesey pressed her lips together, a slight shudder running down her spine. ‘God knows how the poor sods must be feeling – not knowing if their daughter is alive or dead. I can’t think of anything worse. It’s every parent’s worst nightmare. I’ll give them a quick update on what’s happening and send them on their way.’

17

Heath smirked as he recalled recent events, focusing on his positives, magnifying them in his mind. The case was all over the news. Ha! He was famous by association, covered in glory. And the bitch mother looked distraught. All that pathetic pleading, all that pitiful begging, appealing to his better nature as if such a thing had ever existed. The woman had disintegrated in front of his very eyes, right there on the television screen for all to see. Just as he’d hoped, precisely as he’d planned.

Now to turn up the pressure. The bitch solicitor would be begging for mercy by the time he’d finished with her. Her terrors had only just begun.

Heath looked across at Lottie’s sleeping form with a pensive expression, bulbous eyes shining in the light of a naked bulb. Drug the brat or kill her? Drug her or kill her? The weight of decision-making could be heavy at times. How could one little girl be so utterly infuriating? She’d only come around for a few miserable minutes since her enforced arrival. All that weeping, all that screeching, as if she didn’t appreciate him taking the gag off.

The ungrateful little mare didn’t realise how lucky she was. He could have dispatched her right there and then, rather than give her a secure home behind bars. Weren’t the dolls good enough, and the teddy bears, what about the teddy bears? She didn’t seem interested in them either. What a strange and unappreciative little creature he’d brought into his life. As if the little monsters in school weren’t burdensome enough to deal with. Now he had one ensconced in his personal space too. But at least there was no school for another couple of weeks.