to turn up on her doorstep.
He placed a mug in front of her and she lifted it to her lips, curling her fingers through the handle. He was right. A mug of tea was just what she needed and she rested her head back, starting to relax. He threw another log on the wood burner and she sat, staring at the flames creeping over the wood with a soothing intensity. He chose the chair opposite and, making himself comfortable, continued studying the card. She frowned at his sudden level of interest. There was nothing to see apart from a cheap card with a picture of the Eiffel Tower, similar to millions of other cards sent around the globe every year. So, what did he find so exciting about the back of this one?
‘Surely you must know it off by heart?’
He placed the card on the table beside him before raising his head, his hand pulling his phone out of his pocket.
‘Hmm, it’s not the card so much as the postal mark,’ he said, all his attention now on his screen as he scrolled through the device.
‘It was sent from Paris, obviously. Why else would the postcard be of the Eiffel Tower?’
‘Not necessarily. France is broken down into numerical regions and Paris, I seem to remember, is number 75 whereas this postal mark has a pretty clear 62 stamped on …’ He paused, switching off his phone with a puzzled frown.
‘Well?’
‘Well, it’s time we were making tracks. I’m sure you have lots to do,’ he said with a smile – one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
The door finally closed behind them, leaving her with a confusing list of feelings to dwell on. The postcard had thrown her. Why now, for heaven’s sake, after all this time? Her hand crept to her throat as a new thought crossed the border of her mind. Perhaps someone was playing a sick joke.
Chapter 13
Gaby
‘You shouldn’t make promises you might be unable to keep,’ Rhys said, as soon as they’d reached the car.
Gaby spent a moment pulling her skirt over her knees before replying. ‘Excuse me?’
‘You as good as promised her we’d find her daughter.’ She felt his gaze flickering in her direction. ‘So, what do you think you can bring to the table that we haven’t already?’ he said, starting the engine. ‘We’ve been trying for five years and come up with zilch, simply because there are no clues.’
‘Well, we have more leads now. The card and this Grace Madden.’
‘Pah. The card could be from anybody. Yes, it’s nice to think it’s from Charlie and he’s holed up in France. But it doesn’t make sense.’
She picked up the card from where he’d placed it on the dashboard and turned it over. ‘There’s something about this whole situation that doesn’t make sense. Why leave it so long? What has changed to make a card appear out of the blue like that? It doesn’t fit with any of the profiling carried out on missing person cases,’ she said, not really expecting him to answer. ‘Something must have happened to prompt the card but what? The obvious answer is Grace Madden being back on the scene but what reason could she have unless she’s still in touch with Charlie?’
She ran through the words again but there was nothing … No leads. No new clues. The postmark, their best bet, was smudged as if the card had passed through many hands. She reached for her phone and clicked on the International Postal Database, her gaze narrowing. Why would someone go to all the trouble of buying a postcard in Paris only to post it someplace else?
Shifting in her seat she was suddenly aware that Rhys hadn’t said a word for a good few minutes. Her eyes shifted to his face and the grim set of his jaw. She’d give quite a lot to know what he was thinking. Instead, she decided to ask him a question. ‘I thought it was posted in Paris but now I’m not so sure. What did your search turn up because, all I’m getting is a place called Coquelles?’
‘You know what your problem is, don’t you?’ Rhys said, throwing her a look before returning his attention back to the road.
‘What?’
‘You don’t take enough holidays.’
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘Because, Gaby, then you’d know that Coquelles is just south west of Calais and where the Channel Tunnel terminates.’
Gaby shot him a look. ‘So what you’re saying is that someone jumped on the Chunnel