Free Her Last Tomorrow by Adam Croft Page B

could’ve gone far in the time I was in the house. I had to make them see that Derek is lying. That they’re wasting so much precious time looking at me when they could be finding her. Trouble is, there’s no-one either Tash or I, or anyone else for that matter, can think of who’d want to take Ellie. Why would they?
    The sum of it all, is that the best the police can do is to wander around cursorily looking in bushes and putting up posters. There’s been talk of putting on more pressure through the media, but they’re worried this might scare whoever has Ellie into panicking and harming her. When they put this point to me, I strongly agreed. After all, I know someone has her and that that person might well panic, as they suggested. I couldn’t tell them that, though.
    I’m not going to lie — I’ve often wondered what life would be like without Tasha. I’ve always said that if I hadn’t settled down and got married I’d probably be out travelling the Far East or Australia right now. I certainly wouldn’t be mortgaged up to the eyeballs in the same bloody town I grew up in with no hope of ever getting out. In so many ways, things would be a lot easier if Tasha wasn’t around.
    We couldn’t go off travelling now. Not now we’re married with a kid and a mortgage, not to mention the rest of the baggage that goes with it. Tasha’s not exactly likely to want to give up her precious career, either. But me and Ellie, just the two of us? Yes, that’d work. Especially if we had nothing left to stay for.
    Another thought crosses my mind. Tasha’s insured. That was something she’d insisted on when we first got married and bought the house. We even made sure to include provision for any children we had, with extra money being provided for their care if one of us were to die. Do insurance companies pay out in cases of murder? After all, I’ve got to assume that might be the verdict if I can’t make it look like an accident. No. I push this thought from my head. I have to make it look like an accident. Either that or a murder I couldn’t possibly have committed. I could sell the house, add the insurance money in and we’d be able to live fairly easily roaming the world. I could even hire a tutor for Ellie to come with us.
    These thoughts seem fantastical because they’re so far removed from what we’re used to, but when you sit down and work it out on paper you realise just what simple things you’d have to do to change your life completely. If you want to, that is. Up until Ellie went missing I’d probably have done the same as most other people and just carried on as I was. The easy option, I guess. But now there’s absolutely no question. I’m in no position to let things carry on as they are. Now, things have to change. I need Ellie back.
    Mark once told me about a local guy who befriended him in prison who claimed he could ‘do him a favour’ if ever he needed it. My fingers grip tightly around my phone in my jeans pocket as I walk, knowing that as soon as I take it out and dial the number, I’ll have made a serious move. Right now, though, to me, it doesn’t seem serious. What seems serious is the fact that my young daughter is missing and in the arms of some crazed psychopath. To get her back, all I need to do is make a phone call and have my sham of a marriage ended, leaving me free to live life as I want to with my daughter back with me. Where’s the decision?
    Before I realise it, I’m scrolling through my phonebook to M and tapping Mark’s name. I bring the phone to my ear and wait for the familiar tone of the call to start buzzing. Mark picks up after four rings.
    ‘Nick! How’s it going mate?’
    ‘Yeah, good,’ I lie. ‘Well, not great actually. Listen, are you in town? I can’t really talk on the phone.’
    ‘Christ, mate. I don’t think you’ve phoned me for about six years, and now you phone to say you can’t talk on the phone?’ He laughs.
    ‘I know. I’ll explain it all