Miss No One - Mark Ayre (top 10 most read books in the world txt) 📗

have something to do with Isabella's kidnap?" Abbie asked, trying to keep her voice calm, her tone measured. "Were you there when she was snatched from her home, her au pair murdered?"

And still, Gary wouldn't speak. Abbie was holding onto her temper but could feel it slipping through her fingers.

"You were looking for me, weren't you?" Abbie said. "I suggest you tell me why and what you know before I lose my temper. I'm a woman. Maybe you think a beating from me isn't as frightening a prospect as one administered by Ndidi. Let me tell you, at my hands, if I lose my temper, you'll experience levels of pain so great, merely imagining them would send Ndidi weeping to his mother."

This was dramatic. It was difficult to argue it wasn't overstated. Abbie had some experience making people suffer, but even she was unsure she could administer to Gary quite as much pain as she had implied.

It didn't matter. The threat worked its magic. Gary would not be calling Abbie's bluff.

Dragging his eyes from his boots, the lanky teen looked into Abbie's face, if not directly into her eyes. He took a breath, forced himself to talk.

"I had nothing to do with Isabella," he said. "But I think I know where she is."

Sixteen

Gary led Abbie from the park. She followed him for two turns before grabbing his arm and leading him in the opposite direction to which he wanted to travel.

"It's this way," he protested.

"Not yet it isn't."

Following his declaration, Gary had again attempted to shut down. Abbie now knew what she had seen lingering in his eyes: fear. He was afraid of what Ndidi might do and what might happen to Isabella. Hours ago, Ndidi had assaulted Gary. Now he was again under attack, this time from his conscience.

"I'm not a good person," he'd said when Abbie had pressed him on his claims, had tried to determine how much he really knew, and how involved he was. "I've always been in trouble. Was never good at school. Got suspended all the time, and I was into dealing before I was a teenager, I think. Or it was pretty close."

He had paused, seeming to think it over, as though he wanted to recall the exact date he had sold his first bag of weed to his first punter.

Annoyed, Abbie had pinched his elbow.

"Doesn't matter," she had said as Gary squealed. "Keep the story moving."

"Yeah, right, sorry," he'd mumbled. "So I been involved in dealing for years, and I know some pretty sick people. I'm a bad guy like I said, but I ain't evil. Or, I never wanted to think I was evil."

In the toilet block's shadow, Abbie could hear but not see the playing children and their watchful parents and guardians. The innocent laughter recalled to her the plight of Isabella, who might never laugh again.

"You're not evil," Abbie repeated. "Fine, now why don't you take me to Isabella. You can talk on the way."

Still, Gary had hesitated. Fear was like a chain around his ankles, holding him to the spot.

"Which way?" Abbie had asked.

Gary said nothing.

"I know you're afraid. Tell me which way."

"I'm not evil. I've worked with evil people, but I'm not like them. I don't want anything bad to happen to Isabella. But I'm scared."

"Right.” Abbie punched Gary in the stomach.

He bent at the waist with a cry, then crumpled to his knees. As he held his stomach and took deep breaths, Abbie crouched beside him.

"I think you're probably a nice guy who's got himself wrapped up in some bad shit over the years. It started when you were young. Before you knew who you were as a person, some crooks got their claws into you and, by the time you realised what you were becoming, it was too late. That's all sad. It's regretful. Unfortunately, right now, I don't have time make you feel better, and you don't have time for this self-loathing, self-examination thing. An innocent child is in danger. If you know where she is, it's about time you got over yourself and got over your fear, if only for as long as it takes to take me to her. You understand?"

From the ground, still holding his stomach, Gary nodded as Abbie rose.

"Good. Now get up, and let's get moving."

It took another few seconds, a couple more deep breaths, then Gary released his stomach, clutched the wall, and forced himself to stand. By this point, his eyes were red. The tears glistened there, and one ran down his cheek.

Fighting a wave of guilt, Abbie closed her eyes.

"I'm sorry I hit you," she said. "I'm agitated, wound up. I can't face the prospect of failing Isabella, you know? Also, I twisted my ankle last night, and it still aches."

This almost drew a smile from Gary. He looked at her, dried his eyes, and forced himself to stand straight.

"You ready?" Abbie asked.

He was. Sort of.

He led the way across the public ground and didn't speak again until Abbie grabbed his arm and dragged him away from the direction in which he had been trying to walk.

"It's this way," he protested.

"Not yet it isn't."

They made their way along another road. In the distance, Abbie could make out the top of the dealership. All that glass and chrome. She had no intention of going back. At least not yet.

"Where are we going?" Gary asked once Abbie released him. "I thought you didn't want to waste any time."

"This isn't a waste of time."

"Then what are we doing?"

They made another turn. Abbie spied her car halfway along the road and set off towards it.

"So far, you've done nothing to make me believe I should trust you," said Abbie. "That's my car, up there. I'm going to arm myself, then we'll head to wherever you think Isabella's being held, but before I risk my neck going in, I need to know more."

They reached the car. Abbie unlocked the door and removed from beneath the front passenger seat both of