Free The Twisted Knot by J.M. Peace

friends with the deputy principal. You were always more likely to get some inside information from someone you knew personally, who you had built up some trust with. Although he too had heard the rumours, he couldn’t point her in the right direction. Sammi asked about children absent from school, abnormal behaviour reported by teachers, any sort of warning sign. Teachers were obliged to make a report to the Department of Child Safety if they had any evidence that a child was being abused. But there had been no referrals and Sammi believed the deputy when he told her he knew nothing that could help her.
    â€˜Seriously, Sammi, if I knew, I’d whisper it your way. It’s very concerning. All the parents are talking about it. Everyone’s getting fired up.’
    Sammi thanked him before hanging up. There was no high school in Angel’s Crossing and Sammi had no contacts at the nearest school in the next town. She had spoken to the principal one time previously, but the level of trust required to get some sort of information outside of the prescribed regulations wasn’t there. It was a pointless phone call, but a box ticked.
    Sammi kept making more phone calls but couldn’t shake the heavy feeling that she was on the wrong track. She tried the hospital and the local doctor’s surgery, even though they too were obliged by law to report anything indicating abuse. She thought about pedophile cases she’d heard about, or read about. How had the offender been caught out in other cases? The victim spoke out. And then followed through.
    Why wouldn’t this victim or their family come to the police now? Why were they silent when the town was full of rumours? These questions nagged at Sammi. She could come up with several answers. The victim’s family wanted to protect their child. Perhaps the victim was scared of the offender. Or scared of the police.
    Unbidden, an image popped into Sammi’s mind. A figure looming over her, blocking out the sky. The feeling of helplessness, submission. A predator. She pushed it back, focused on her investigation.
    Her mind kept circling back to Kayleen and Wendy. She was certain they knew who the victim was. They wouldn’t tell her because of the way Janey’s case had fallen apart and the tragic consequences to their family. Perhaps that was why the victim’s family didn’t trust the police to investigate. The consequences of the victim’s name getting out in such a small town were obvious. It would be hard to live here after that. She’d found it hard enough to return to town after her abduction. Knowing everyone was talking about her, pointing her out to each other in the street, feeling sorry for her – it had made her cringe. Even if she did identify the victim, how would she go about convincing the person to make a complaint in the face of all this opposition?
    Her mobile phone buzzed in her pocket, signalling a message. She felt an odd sense of unease whenever her phone rang or buzzed with a message. An ominous feeling that this phone call may change everything. That it might be bad news. The psychologist had lumped it in with her other symptoms of paranoia, but it was a plausible scenario to Sammi. A single unremarkable event could be the start of a life-changing episode. In fact, most life-changing events came without portent. They came under the guise of everyday life. A message on your phone. A knock at the door. A night out with a friend.
    So whenever her phone buzzed she felt an urgent need to check it as soon as possible, to make sure it was nothing important. Even if she was talking with other people when the message came in, she couldn’t help flipping open the case of her phone to check. This time it was only Gavin, asking if she wanted Thai takeaway tonight. She texted a quick ‘Yes’ back. Then added the word ‘please’ and a couple of x’s so it looked like she cared what they ate. What