Читать книгу Saving Sophie: A compulsively twisty psychological thriller that will keep you gripped to the very last page - Sam Carrington, Sam Carrington - Страница 21

Dan’s story may have come across as solid to DS Mack – Karen, though, was unconvinced. The whole taxi episode sounded weak, far too vague, as if he were speaking lines by rote. The same story the others had stuck to: Amy and Erin put Sophie in a taxi outside the White Hart. The exact same words. But had any of them actually seen this? Or were they only going on what Amy had supposedly told them? Conveniently, there was no CCTV covering that area, a fact DS Mack had reiterated as he scribbled notes in his pad.

But, perhaps she shouldn’t be thinking about that right now. Her thoughts should be with Amy – and poor Liz. Her own gut-wrenching reaction to seeing Sophie in such a state, thinking something bad had happened to her, paled into insignificance compared to what Liz must be experiencing at this moment. She’d sounded relatively calm when Karen’d first spoken to her, convinced Amy would show up and that they’d all laugh about it afterwards. Now it was nothing to laugh about. Karen had only known Liz as long as Sophie’d known Amy, hadn’t even met her in person – all communication had been via phone calls and texting. She’d no idea how she and Nathan would cope, or what support they had to help them through this.

When DS Mack left, he handed Karen a card, said to contact him should she or Sophie have anything to add. Now, standing in the kitchen, she absently flipped the card over and over. It was unlikely they’d require it. What more could they say? Sophie hadn’t been able to recall any more of Saturday evening, and Dan had offered no more than what had already been noted from his texts to Sophie. She held the card on to the cork message board and jammed a bright red pin through its centre. How were the police going to piece any of this together – to make sense of Amy’s last known movements?

Last known movements. Karen’s skin tingled as it turned to gooseflesh. She ran her hand up and down her arm to brush away the bumps. Her eyes stung as fresh tears threatened.

‘You okay?’ Mike came up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder.

‘What do you think?’ She shrugged his hand off.

‘I’ll make a coffee.’

‘Not for me. Don’t need any extra reasons to stay awake tonight.’

‘Tablets not helping?’ This was the first time he’d referred to her medication. He’d never asked a single question about them before.

‘They aren’t sleeping tablets,’ Karen shouted. ‘They’re to help with bloody anxiety. Anxiety, Mike. Not murder.’ She retreated out of the kitchen, leaving Mike with a stunned expression on his face.

Idiot. Two years she’d been taking them, and he didn’t even know what they were for? Why did she bother? Karen lay on the bed, staring at the darkening sky through the skylight. She hated the skylight. His idea to have it put in – to make the room more airy, seem bigger than its actual ten by ten foot size. In reality, all it did was annoy her: letting the sun spill in too early in the morning, which woke her up, and the moonlight send in shards of ghostly white at night when she wanted to sleep. She’d asked for a blind. It still hadn’t materialised.

Distant whispers penetrated her thoughts. After DS Mack had left, Sophie and Dan shut themselves away in Sophie’s bedroom, much to Mike’s displeasure. She wondered what they were saying. Were they trying to recap the events leading up to Amy’s disappearance? Was Dan consoling Sophie, offering a friendly shoulder as she might have just lost her best friend? Karen couldn’t, didn’t, want to contemplate it. If this were Rachel missing, or dead, how would she be coping? Rachel was a permanent fixture in Karen’s life, had been since they were three years old, when their mothers, themselves inseparable friends, had walked them to playschool together. They’d had times of separation, both going to different secondary schools, colleges, but they’d always gravitated back to one another. And then they both fell pregnant at the same time, having Sophie and Erin just weeks apart – the same as their mothers. Three generations. Now, even if they didn’t talk for weeks, they knew they were always there for each other when it counted.

A pang of guilt shot through her. She hadn’t been there for Rachel when her ex moved in with the new woman though, had she? She’d allowed that one to go right on past her, not noticing, not feeling the latest traumatic event in Rachel’s life. She’d have to try to make up for that slip. Rachel had been there for Karen in the past. Particularly after the attack.

A shriek ripped through the room, causing acid to rise immediately into her mouth. She shot up. Her heart bashed an erratic rhythm, filling her ears as she ran to Sophie’s room and whacked the door open, crashing it into the wall behind.

‘What? What the hell is it?’