The Vanishing Girls by Callie Browning (great novels of all time .txt) 📗

the bridge of his nose and said, “Then let’s move up our date to tonight.”

“Why?”

He scratched his chin, his reluctance clear in the way he said, “So that we can leave tomorrow open for us to see who turns up for the meeting. The ad says to call after 5 p.m.,” Holden reminded her. “As soon as we do that, we’ll lock up and go out.”

A smile touched Eileen’s lips. “That sounds fantastic.”

He leaned over and kissed her then, a soft and sweet press of his lips against hers, heavy with promise for the night ahead.

* * *

NEVER BEFORE HAD ONE DAY DRAGGED ON as long as that day did. Every time the parliament building’s clock tower gonged, Holden's heart accelerated to the point where he feared it would disconnect from its arteries and fall out of his chest. He'd been in high-pressure situations before, but never to the point where every single thing grated on his nerves and made his temples pound.

Across from Holden's desk, Eileen was working as though she hadn’t a care in the world. She took calls, crafted schedules, made wreaths and generally appeared in good spirits. On the surface all was well, but Holden had come to realize that Eileen wasn’t one to broadcast her discomfort. He suspected that she had purposely detached herself from the reality, trying her best not to become overwhelmed by the prospect of their plans. Clifford sauntered in the way he normally did, spouting his wacky theories and unfounded superstitions with unfettered glee. Today, he was particularly concerned about the possibility of a vast network of devices linked by wireless frequencies that communicated with each other at lightning speeds. Holden rolled his eyes. As usual, Eileen found Clifford’s manic ravings charming, her profound delight evident in the tears that ran down her face. Since Eileen’s arrival, Holden had been able to find humour in most of Clifford’s inane babbling, but on days when he was stressed, his enthusiasm waned. And today, Holden’s enthusiasm was at an all-time low.

When the clock finally struck five, Holden’s mouth grew dry and his palms grew clammy, almost as though his saliva had gone down the wrong tube and ended up in his hands. Eileen cast him a quizzical look, but he said nothing as he picked up the phone and dialled the number. When it rang, Holden nodded at her, signalling that she could pick up her phone. He placed his hand over the receiver, worried that the killer would hear his anxious breathing. As the line kept ringing, it dawned on Holden that Eileen might be right. The only reason that the killer had carried on like normal, operating out in the open was that he wasn’t fearful. The Slasher assumed his plan was ironclad. Holden gritted his teeth; he’d see to it that the Slasher’s incarceration was iron clad too.

“Hello?” said a low voice.

“Hello,” replied Eileen cheerfully. “I’m calling about the job.”

“Very good, dear. What’s your name?”

“It’s Lisa.”

“You sound very nice, Lisa. Pleasant and young. I’m looking for someone between sixteen and thirty and…” A car horn blared, and a metallic rattling drowned out the man’s voice for a moment.

“Yes. I’m within that age range, but I’m so sorry, I barely heard you over the background noise. Do you mind speaking up?”

“Oh yes, my apologies. I was saying you should come to meet me at —”

“Boss, I thought you and Eileen was going out tonight,” said Clifford as he ambled into the office and slammed the door.

Holden and Eileen swung around, their eyes wide as they pressed their fingers to their lips. Had the killer heard Clifford?

Silence hung in the air. Holden held his breath and squeezed the receiver as he strained to hear something, anything, but the killer didn’t say another word before he ended the call.

Chapter 24

The Night that Changed Everything

Their attempt to catch the Slasher had been a disaster. Eileen was furious that they may have squandered their only chance to catch him, but Holden pointed out that a serial killer would be able to resist the compulsion to murder. All they could do was bide their time until The Slasher struck again. Eileen reflected that it was probably a good thing that they’d moved their dinner to that night; at least the day would end on a high note.

Holden hadn’t said where they were going, but Eileen firmly believed that it was safer to be overdressed than underdressed. She chose a snug gold dress with a scooped back and flounced sleeves that her body filled out with reckless abandon and paired it with black heels and gold accessories on her wrists and fingers.

She finished off the look with hooped earrings and bangles before she picked up the phone to find out if he was ready. She’d only spun the rotary dial once when she heard a knock on the door. Peering through the wooden window, she was surprised to see Holden standing in the verandah clad in a smart silk shirt and formal slacks.

“I was just calling you,” she laughed in surprise as she opened the door. “Did Clifford bring you?”

Holden grinned like a schoolboy with a secret. “I drove.”

Eileen tried to contain her confusion, but couldn’t. “The hearse?”

Holden held back a smile as he cocked an eyebrow. “I’m not a savage, Eileen. There’s no way I could take a beautiful lady out for a night on the town and ask her to pick me up.” He held up a narrow car key on a silver ring and shook it until it tinkled like a cat’s bell in the night air.

“You got a car?!” Eileen squealed as she stepped onto the verandah to look down. There, parked next to hers, was a sleek Hyundai Stellar Prima.

“I ordered it a few days ago and they delivered it this evening. Things have picked up quite a bit at the mortuary, thanks to you. I figured the least I can do is treat you like a queen.”

His eyes twinkled as