Jay took a seat in front of the computer and started searching for the footage, while Mack paced backwards and forwards, flicking her cutthroat razor open and closed.

“If it is that fucking little prick, I’m going to gut him.”

Mack’s anger was like no other rage. She felt sick, and a cold sweat erupted over her body.

“How long ago would this be?”

“It couldn’t have been more than an hour ago. Sandra was on her break, and when she got back, they were gone.”

Jay searched for about five minutes before she said, “Mack, look at this.”

Mack looked over Jay’s shoulder, and she played the tape. Mack saw a white van zooming out of the alley behind Sweet Surprise and almost causing an accident as it went into oncoming traffic.

Suddenly Nikki burst into the room. “What the fuck is going on?”

“I think Kevin Drury or McDade has taken Isy and Flo from the back of the shop. Jay’s found some footage of a van leaving the alley.”

“Show me.”

As they watched, Nikki almost growled, “I’m going to kill him, and I don’t care if I go to jail for the rest of my life.”

“We’ll get them. Can you zoom and get a licence plate number, Jay?” Mack said.

“Yeah, got it.”

“Write it down for me,” Nikki said. “I can get it traced.”

Nikki started dialling a number, and Jay handed her a notepad.

Mack flicked open her cutthroat razor. After a long break, it was time to be the Sharkey enforcer yet again. It was time to be Mack the Knife.

Chapter Seventeen

Flora held a crying Isla in her arms and was trying to comfort her, but it was hard when she was shaking herself.

“I want my mum,” Isla cried.

“I know. Your mum and Mack will be looking for us. Promise. In the meantime, no matter what happens, stay behind me. Okay?”

In her own mind she tried to believe Mack would find them, but in reality, how would she have any clue where they had been taken? That same reality wanted her to shut down, to protect herself from all fear and stimulation.

Her compulsion to do her OCD ritual was sky-high. Every minute or so, Flora was tapping as best she could, while holding Isla tight.

The van came to a halt, and Flora’s fear was increasing exponentially. She felt sick but couldn’t let Isla see that.

The doors opened and she was faced with a dishevelled thin man and the woman who Isla remembered.

“Get the girl,” the man said to his female partner.

“That’s his voice,” Isla said.

“Whose voice?”

“The man in the mask who killed my friend.”

Kevin Drury.

As the woman went for Isla, Flora launched herself at her. “Don’t touch her.”