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

the remaining Becker. Instead, he painted a word picture of Smoker, who had yesterday attempted to murder Abbie and who had escaped before she could kill him.

Nodding at Gary’s description, Abbie made no comment but said, "Go on."

"Guy knew I was dealing for Lucky Draw. Wanted to know everything I knew about the place and the people in charge. He never said why."

"But you knew?" Abbie asked.

Gary shrugged. "I guessed. Makes sense they'd want to rob the place, right?”

“Maybe,” said Abbie. “Could you tell them much?”

Gary shook his head. “Only been to the casino once. Never really spent any time with anyone important. He wasn’t happy.”

“I bet,” muttered Abbie. But Smoker must have known Gary was a long shot. He would have started at the bottom—less risk of getting found out by those at the top that way—and worked his way up until he had all the information Orion required. Where the money was kept, where security was lax, who worked when and what nights were the quietest. That sort of thing. But would any quantity of information have been enough information. Or did Orion need something else to ensure his plan ran smoothly.

The compliance of a Detective Inspector, for example. And if he couldn’t find a willing accomplice, how else might he get his way?

Abbie turned towards the school, thinking of Isabella. “When you saw the guy, that was here?” Abbie nodded towards the school.

“Yeah.”

“And he was alone?”

Gary nodded.

Abbie looked up the road, at the school in the distance. It would undoubtedly be an excellent place to hold a kidnapped child. But it was compromised if Gary and other outsiders knew Smoker was operating here. That suggested Isabella was in a second location. But it was as good a place as any to start.

If this was where they were keeping Isabella, Abbie had no doubt she’d need to overcome multiple hostiles to rescue the girl, but she was used to having the odds stacked against her. Being outnumbered did not guarantee her failure any more than a one on one would guarantee success.

“Come on,” she said to Gary, nodding down the stretch of road which led to the school. “No time like the present.”

Hedges rising above their heads on either side, they proceeded towards what was definitely a closed-down school and towards what might also be the makeshift prison for a frightened young girl. Not to mention the HQ of a nefarious Orion—Becker or otherwise.

The greenery encroached onto the pavements. On the left-hand side, Gary took what remained of the path while Abbie walked on the road.

They saw no cars and heard no people in the near vicinity.

They moved slowly, and almost five minutes passed between their conversation ending and reaching the road's end. Here they found a small roundabout used only for easier U-turns after school drop-offs. Before school drop-offs were no longer necessary. Straight ahead, the road became a driveway that led to a house that sat on school property. A bungalow. Small, unassuming. Presumably, the caretaker had lived here. Perhaps the ex-caretaker still did.

Beside the driveway was a path, bordered by trees, which led into the distance. On the left side of the road were three houses, detached, four-bedroom. Abbie hoped no one had moved in a year ago, paying over the odds to get their children as close to school as it was possible to be without sleeping on the premises, only for the school gates to close for good a few weeks later.

The school sat on the right from Abbie and Gary's direction of approach. Beyond the closed gates, a concrete carpark sat before the first of the one-story buildings which had comprised the school.

“Your meeting took place where?" Abbie asked.

"One of the buildings on the far side. An English block, I think."

"Fine," said Abbie. She continued along the road with Gary behind. The roundabout was a brick-made circle topped with dead grass. Abbie was no baker; If she made a cake, it would probably look just like this.

Opposite the roundabout was a low gate, no higher than Abbie's chest and easily scaled if it was locked. Beyond the empty carpark, Abbie examined the buildings that lined the right side of a paved walkway, leading to another block. On the left were one small building and two courts—tennis, rather than legal.

When he'd visited the school, Gary had seen only one man. That didn't mean there hadn't been others nearby, watching, waiting. Even if there hadn't been, that was before Orion's team kidnapped a little girl. The daughter of a policeman, no less. The situation had changed.

Moving away from the roundabout, Abbie approached the gate. From her waistband, she withdrew a gun. Clasping it in one hand, she held it by her side.

The school buildings were window heavy, seemingly more glass than brick or concrete. A bit like the dealership, except there was nothing modern about the architecture here. Even when new, the buildings had no doubt looked old. Now, the school blocks were grubby and worn. They appeared on the verge of collapse from exhaustion. They were close enough together that the demise of one could trigger a domino effect that would lead to the destruction of the rest. Which would at least save someone money on demolition crews, should the council ever manage to sell the land.

Most of the windows were dusty, many were cracked. Still, visibility was adequate. If Orion was keeping Isabella here and had a decent sized team working for him, he might have people hiding in these buildings, keeping watch through the windows, waiting to gun down any trespassers.

“In a minute, we’re going in,” said Abbie. Gary whimpered, but she ignored him. “One more question before we do.”

Abbie kept her eyes on the school. Gary stood behind her but she could almost sense the nerves pouring off him.

“What’s that?” he said.

She wanted to turn. It was important to maintain eye contact when you were afraid someone might lie in answer to your question. Eye contact made deceit more difficult.