Destroy Me by Karen Cole (read people like a book TXT) 📗

his number anyway? I just want to speak to him. Find out if he saw who did take Dylan,’ I say, attempting to sound calm.

‘Er, sure. I’ll text you it and let me know if you need anything else—’

‘Thanks,’ I interrupt and hang up.

A couple of seconds later my phone pings and I see that Georgia has sent me the number.

I call it immediately and to my surprise Luke answers after a couple of rings.

‘Hello?’ He sounds like he’s outside. I can hear children laughing, shrieking in the background.

‘Where are you? Where’s Dylan? Is he okay?’ I say. My voice is shaking with anger and fear. If he hurts Dylan, I’ll kill him. I know that with bone-deep certainty.

‘Cat,’ he sighs. ‘How did you get my number?’

‘That doesn’t matter. Just tell me where Dylan is.’

‘I think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick,’ he says with exaggerated patience. ‘Georgia rang me earlier. She said you had the idea that I picked him up from school, but I didn’t.’

Is he playing games with me? How fucking dare he? I’m filled with impotent rage, and I want to scream and shout at him, but I mustn’t make him angry. That could be dangerous for Dylan. I must try to sound calm, conciliatory.

‘What do you want from me?’ I say. ‘If you want me to go to the police and tell them what happened to Daisy, I will. I’ll do anything you want, only please don’t hurt him.’

He speaks slowly and deliberately, as if he’s trying to pacify someone dangerously unstable. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about. I haven’t got Dylan and I don’t know who Daisy is. Look, Catherine, I kept my side of the bargain. Now you need to keep yours and leave me alone.’

He ends the call abruptly. But before he hangs up, I hear the deep, resonant chime of the church bell marking the hour. The sound is loud and close.

Church bells, children playing. I know exactly where he is.

The Abbey Grounds park is full of children, but I spot Luke straight away, sitting on a bench with his legs spread out straight in front of him, fiddling with a phone. I can see Harry too, climbing to the top of the climbing frame. But there’s no sign of Dylan.

‘What the . . .?’ Luke exclaims as I stride up to him. His hand flies to his collarbone and his eyes widen. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I told you. I’m looking for my son.’

He looks around to check that no one is watching us. ‘Well, I told you, I haven’t got him.’ He lowers his voice before continuing. ‘Look, I don’t know what you want from me exactly, but you need to leave me alone. This is bordering on harassment.’

‘Where have you hidden him?’

He stares at me. ‘Hidden who? Your son? You’re not right in the head, you know that?’ He taps the side of his temple to emphasise his point.

‘Look at me, Dad!’ Harry shouts. He has climbed to the bottom of the climbing frame and is running towards the swings. If Luke won’t tell me, I think, maybe Harry will. So, not caring if I seem insane, I run after him and grab him by the arm.

‘Hi Harry, remember me?’ I say, breathlessly. ‘I’m Dylan’s mum.’

He nods wide eyed.

‘Have you seen Dylan?’ I ask.

Harry looks bewildered and a little alarmed. ‘What?’

I try to speak less intently. There’s no point in scaring him. ‘Did Dylan leave school with you?’

Harry looks at his dad, who is striding up behind me.

‘Um, no,’ he says.

‘Did you see who he left with?’ I entreat desperately.

‘No, you’re hurting me. Let go.’

I look down and notice that I’m still grasping him tightly, my fingers digging into his arm.

‘Get your hands off my son,’ Luke growls, pulling me roughly away. ‘Look, I don’t know what’s happened to Dylan. He’s probably gone home with one of the other kids in the class or with your ex. All I know is, we haven’t got him.’

He takes Harry’s hand and stalks away, leaving me standing alone in the middle of the playpark. A couple of women are staring at me. Maybe I look deranged. I certainly feel it.

Does Luke have a point? Should I ring Theo? I take out my phone. There’s just an outside chance that he has Dylan. Perhaps Ms Hamlyn was mistaken. She could have confused Dylan with another child or just got confused in general. It can be chaotic at pick-up. On the other hand, what about the note? It’s too much to hope that that note is just a hoax and arrived coincidentally on the same day that Dylan goes missing. Besides, I’m not sure telling Theo is a good idea. What if he decides to go to the police?

I’m slotting the phone back in my pocket when it beeps, and I see that I have a message from George Wilkinson. I open it quickly.

And my heart stops.

There’s a photo of Dylan in his school uniform. He’s leaning against a blank white wall, his hands behind his back. His expression is blank, but physically he looks well. There are no signs of bruises or marks to indicate that he has been hurt. I read the message underneath, bile rising in my throat.

Dylan is safe for now. He will stay that way if you go to the police and tell them the truth about Daisy.

I stagger backwards and sink on to a bench, trying to breathe. This is really happening.

Fingers shaking, I download the photo and gaze at his dear little face feeling heartsick. If only I could reach into the photo and pull him out. I just want to hold him close and keep him safe. Where are you, Dylan? I scour the image for clues but there’s nothing to give away his location. Just a blank white wall and a standard light switch by his head. He could be anywhere.

For Dylan’s sake, I would go to prison a thousand times