Free Missing Believed Dead by Chris Longmuir

for both Ryan and Emma, and when they got home Diane was scrubbing the kitchen floor. Ryan went into the kitchen while Emma ran upstairs to put her coat away.
    ‘It’s time to stop, Mum.’ Ryan put his arm round Diane’s shoulders and helped her to her feet. ‘It’s after midnight, you must be tired.’
    ‘Not really,’ she said, ‘but I have to keep busy.’
    ‘I know, but you have to stop sometime. Besides, you were going to have a word with Emma.’
    ‘Not now. In the morning. I’ll talk to her in the morning.’ Diane’s voice was heavy with exhaustion.
    ‘OK. You go to bed and I’ll bring you a mug of Horlicks.’
    ‘I won’t sleep. I’m too wired.’
    ‘Take a pill, Mum. It’ll help.’
    ‘I don’t want a pill. They make me heavy the next day.’
    ‘It would help.’
    ‘You’re a good lad, Ryan. Just bring me the Horlicks.’
    Emma’s bedroom door slammed and he could hear her descending the stairs.
    ‘Goodnight, Ryan,’ Diane said, shuffling out of the kitchen. ‘I’m not in the mood just now,’ he heard her say to Emma, ‘but we’ll talk in the morning.’
    ‘What was that all about?’ Emma said when she came into the kitchen.
    ‘I was trying to persuade Mum to take one of her sleeping pills but she was resistant. I’ll slip one into her Horlicks. She’ll never know.’
    Ryan set out three mugs. ‘The milk’s on the boil. I’ll take mine upstairs.’
    ‘Sounds a good idea.’ Emma watched as he poured the milk. ‘I’m beat, I’ll be glad to get to bed.’
    Ryan mixed the Horlicks and dropped a pill into his mother’s mug. ‘Not a word, mind,’ he said, and lifting two of the mugs he climbed the stairs.
    He tapped on his mother’s bedroom door. ‘Here you are,’ he said, ‘drink it while it’s hot.’
    Emma was on the landing when he came out and, after saying, ‘Goodnight,’ he went into his room and shut the door. He laid the mug on his bedside table, went to his wardrobe and rummaged for the carrier bag at the back. The one he kept hidden from his mum and Emma. Pulling out the sheer, cream silk pyjamas embroidered with roses he held them up to his face, feeling the luxury of the material caress his skin. He shed his clothes and put them on. Pure bliss. At times like this he could imagine he was the girl he was meant to be.
    * * * *
     
    She had found the ideal hiding place, and had perfected the art of stillness when all she moved were her eyes. None of them suspected she was here. It was better they did not know. But now the house was wrapped in silence, brooding and dark, Jade decided it was safe enough to surface.
    She stared into the darkness – a darkness as deep as the one inside her – trying to remember who had taken her and what they had done. But the memories were dormant, pushed into the depths of her subconscious. The only thing left was the sense of horror.
    Moving first a finger, next her arm, then her legs, she stood up, and cat-like slid from her hiding place. She stretched. It was good to be out in the open, although the time was not yet right to reveal herself.
    Inside the house she moved silently on the landing, tempted to open their bedroom doors and look at them. But she had waited so long before her return she could not risk giving herself away now.
    Tiptoeing through the darkness she collected the laptop, glided down the stairs – carefully missing the creaking one near the bottom, picked up her mother’s car keys from the hall table, and quietly left the house.
    She drove down Brantwood Avenue, turned left at the junction with Byron Road, followed it until she came to Derby Street, where she turned to access the quiet parking area behind the multis. There was always sure to be an unprotected wireless hotspot where there were lots of houses. It did not take her long and she was soon online in a private chat room, reeling in her next mark.
    When she was done she drove to the club and, using Diane’s keys, let herself in the back door.