the threat against me, but my eyelids meet the fabric of something that feels like a pillow and offers only more darkness.
My legs begin to thrash but the force is immovable. My lower half convulses as the panic and fear runs through my veins, but my upper half is held rigid.
My mouth opens and I am gasping for air, trying to draw breath from or through the fabric.
Please, help me, someone, my mind screams as a drop of urine escapes and runs down my leg.
My shame is quickly swallowed by the knowledge that I am about to die. My head begins to swim, and fireworks are popping in my head.
There is no time left. I am dying.
And then it is gone. The weight is lifted from my face. I gulp in fresh air, forcing it down into my lungs. I cough and I splutter into the darkness that surrounds me. Stars twinkle in my head. Fireworks are popping behind my eyes.
The beating of my heart is deafening in my ears. The silence beyond it is terrifying.
I lie still. Not daring to open my eyes in case it comes back. In case I cannot breathe again.
Eventually, as my heart returns to normal, I open my eyes, one at a time and take a good look around.
No one is there.
Thirty-Two
‘Sir, there’s a child,’ Kim said once Woody answered the phone.
‘Sorry?’ he said. The faint noise of the talk radio station he liked to listen to in the background told her he was already at home.
‘Our second victim, Louise Webb-Harvey, was at the park with her six-year-old son for a football match. He’s nowhere to be found.’
‘Immediate area searched?’
‘Yes.’
‘He’s not gone back to the car?’ he asked, echoing instructions most parents gave to their children; it was the first area she’d asked the officers to look.
‘Checked and no,’ she answered.
She had made the call to the site and spoken to the sergeant at the scene the moment Robyn had mentioned the boy’s name. Even the techies had stopped working to conduct a search of the immediate area for the little boy, while the sarge had sprinted to check the car.
Kim had stayed on the phone, crossing her fingers the whole time.
The words ‘nothing marm’ had inflated a balloon of fear in her stomach.
The sergeant had called in to his inspector and an extensive foot search of the area was now being organised.
‘Is there someone at the home with the family?’
‘Yes, sir, Robyn’s brother was five minutes away and a FLO will be there within the hour.’
‘Okay, Stone, I’ll make the necessary arrangements for a press conference, and you need to get yourself back to the station. I’ll meet you there.’
She ended the call as Bryant pulled away from the house. The case had taken a sinister turn that threw even more questions into the air. There had been a child with Katrina the day before. Mia had been only feet away, but she had been left alone. Untouched.
So why the hell had he now taken a six-year-old boy?
Thirty-Three
It was 9.30 p.m. when Kim finally got the call from the family liaison officer at the Webb-Harvey home. All Louise’s family members had been informed and just in the nick of time.
‘Sir, we’re up,’ Kim said, calling her boss on his internal phone.
The local media had been assembled by the press communication team and were waiting outside.
‘I see Frost is front and centre,’ Bryant observed, glancing out the window as Kim grabbed her jacket.
She headed for the door then turned to the rest of her team.
‘Guys, get off home. I need you back fresh in the morning.’
They all nodded their agreement.
Bryant followed her down the stairs.
‘You too,’ she said. ‘Get out while you can.’
‘Are you new, guv? I go when you go.’
She shook her head as Woody appeared. The man could be stubborn sometimes.
‘Okay, Stone, remember what I said?’ her boss asked as they met at the bottom of the stairs.
She nodded. Woody was going to speak, and she was to stand silently by his side. They could not afford for her to get rattled and bite, which would detract from the script and the singularity of what they were trying to achieve with this impromptu gathering.
Everything had been timed so that none of Louise’s family were going to get a devastating shock by watching the local news bulletin. They couldn’t appeal to the public and show Archie’s photo without revealing the identity of the mother.
And they needed the story to run as soon as