Just Keep Breathing by GS Rhodes (good books to read for 12 year olds .txt) 📕

Sanchez looked at him. “This doesn’t look good.”

“I know,” Kidd replied. The photos were definitely concerning. Most of them were pictures of women with text across them about being sad, about being empty.

“You don’t think she—?”

“I hope not,” Kidd replied. “But we can’t rule it out.”

He kept scrolling. There had to be hundreds of posts. It would take them days to go through them all. He returned to the top of the page and read the most recent post.

D is on my last nerve. There are too many lies, too many fights and I don’t think I can take it anymore. He needs to make a decision but if I force him to, I know that I could lose everything. He probably would too, though I don’t care so much about that. D needs to change and he needs to change now.

“Dexter?” Sanchez said.

“Most likely,” Kidd replied. He read it over again. D needs to change. Everyone at the school had said how strange their relationship was, even Sarah’s mum had said he wasn’t a good influence. Maybe she was aware of it. Maybe she knew what damage it was doing. Maybe he was who they needed to be focussing on. “Do you want to head out?”

Zoe nodded, downing her coffee and slamming the cup on her desk. “Where we off to?”

Kidd sighed. “We’re off to see Dexter Black,” he said. “And if that post is anything to go by, I imagine he will have a lot to say.”

“You think he’ll be at home?” Zoe asked.

Kidd shook his head. “If he’s at home, I’ll buy you a pint.”

◆◆◆

“So, what time do you think he’ll be home?”

Kidd was at the front door of the Black residence. Both Dexter’s parents were there, standing in the door frame, neither one of them particularly pleased to have two detectives on their doorstep. It was a fairly common thing. Most people were nice as pie, but you got the occasional family who hated the guts of anyone who worked for The Met on principle alone.

“Not sure,” Mrs Black said. She was a slight woman, so thin that the slightest breeze might send her flying off into the sky never to return. But she was well put together, her brunette hair in a severe bob that moved as she spoke like it had a life of its own “He sort of…does his own thing most of the time.”

“He’s probably just out with his mates,” Mr Black said. He was wearing a navy blue dress shirt that was stained with splatters of what DI Kidd hoped was paint. His face was clean-shaven, a couple of spots on his neck where he’d caught himself. Unlike Mrs Black, he didn’t look so well put together. But maybe that was just the stained shirt giving that impression.

“Does he do that a lot?” Kidd asked.

“Yes,” Mr Black replied. “If he’s not off with Sarah, he’s out with Jonno, or they’re out in a whole group.”

“And what about Sarah?” DS Sanchez asked. “How are things between them?”

“Who’s asking?”

“The police are asking,” DS Sanchez snapped. “We’ve got a missing teenager on the borough, we’re making sure that we’re looking at absolutely everything we can.”

“And that includes my son?” Mr Black asked, raising his voice a little. His wife put her hand across the door frame, like she was trying to stop him from charging.

“As far as we were aware, everything was fine between them,” Mr Black said flatly. “They spent an awful lot of time together, either as a couple or as a group, and we know about the arguments, when he’d come in a strop or something. People fight.”

“It’s the family you want to watch,” Mrs Black barked.

“Philippa,” Mr Black snapped.

“What? You say it as much as I do,” she snapped back. She turned to the detectives. “They’re trouble. Laura with all of her vanity online, immodesty. Him with that crooked company and all those women.”

“That’s quite enough, Philippa,” Mr Black grumbled. “Let he who is without sin—”

“Shut up,” she snapped. “They want to know about them so they should know about them.” She turned back to the detectives. “Can’t keep it in his pants. No respect for the sanctity of marriage.”

Kidd looked down at her neck to see she was wearing a cross. So she was religious and the way Mr and Mrs Harper conducted themselves wasn’t really in keeping with that. Though, of course, if she didn’t like them it could all have been rumours and hearsay. Neither of the parents liking each other, a Romeo and Juliet story played out in Kingston. Kidd had to resist rolling his eyes.

“I’m not here to talk about the Harpers,” Kidd said. “I would love to know about your son’s relationship with Sarah, if possible.”

“I really think you should be talking to our son about this,” Mr Black said sharply.

“We would love to,” DS Sanchez replied, a sweet smile spreading across her face. “If you tell us where we can find him, I’m sure we can arrange that.”

“I told you already, we don’t know where he is.”

“Do you know where he’s been since Friday?” DS Sanchez asked. “Sarah Harper was last seen on Friday, and she was last seen being shouted at by your son at school. Can you vouch for his whereabouts over the weekend?”

“He was here,” Mrs Black said quickly. “We were surprised because he’s normally out with his friends all weekend, staying up all hours. But he didn’t leave the house. That’s all we can tell you I’m afraid.”

“And what about his lack of attendance at school?” DS Sanchez added. “Did you know he’s not been to school this week?”

Mrs Black stared back at them blankly. Mr Black was doing the same. Kidd looked over at DS Sanchez who was waiting on a response that didn’t seem to be forthcoming.

“Mr and Mrs Black, when was the last time you saw your son?” Kidd asked.

Mrs Black took a breath. “Sunday morning.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

When they’d finally