Discarded by M. Hunter (the reading list .txt) 📕

reported sighting of Jo-Jo.’ He turns to leave before pausing. ‘I don’t suppose you want to tag along, do you?’

Freddie nudges me towards him.

I can already picture Cavendish’s face, but it’s time to put the animosity between us to one side. A girl’s life is in danger.

Chapter Twenty-Four Now

Weymouth, Dorset

The air at the police station is electric with anticipation. It only took Rick and me ten minutes to get here, but in that time it looks like half the South Coast’s officers have been called in. I know Cavendish is a fan of the dramatic, but I don’t think she’d have called on this effort if she didn’t truly believe in the intelligence she’d received.

Rick approaches one of the uniformed officers who is smoking just outside the station.

‘I’m hearing there’s been a sighting of Jo-Jo,’ Rick starts, pushing his hands together and blowing warm air into them.

The guy nods as he inhales, watching me, but not questioning who I am or what I’m doing here. ‘There was a call about twenty minutes ago. The DI is getting everyone together to scour the area.’

I don’t know the child, and I’ve only met her parents twice, but I feel ready to punch the air with delight and relief. Having been in their shoes – on tenterhooks for information – I know better than anyone how relieved they must be. A sighting means that Jo-Jo is still alive and that the net on her whereabouts has narrowed significantly. All things being equal, it should only be a matter of time until she’s safe and home.

Reported missing just before three on Saturday, and relocated less than thirty hours later – maybe I really did do Cavendish a disservice when I questioned why she’d been drafted in from Poole to run the investigation. I may not agree with her approach to an investigation – nor her personal morals – but credit where it’s due: she’s found Jo-Jo.

The officer drops his cigarette to the ground and squashes it underfoot before picking up the stub and depositing it in the small metal bin attached to the wall of the police station.

‘You coming in?’ he asks Rick, who looks at me as if trying to decide whether to head in through the staff-only entrance or wait with me.

I make the decision for him.

‘I’ll wait around the front,’ I tell him. ‘You’d better get in and find out what your orders are.’

He leans across and kisses me on the cheek in gratitude, before following his colleague through, while I make my way around to the front.

Some of the family members I observed at the Nevilles’s house are camped outside – some smoking, others puffing warm air into brittle hands. But the group seems to have swollen in size, with more than thirty people awaiting the news that will bring a happy end to a terrifying weekend. I’ve no idea how they all could have heard about the possible sighting so quickly, especially as there are still officers arriving and heading in through the back.

There’s no obvious sign of Trey or Tina or the FLO, so I squeeze my way through the crowd and wait just outside the front door. The station has been officially closed to the public since 5pm, but I don’t imagine anyone anticipated such a turnout for this evening’s news. I promised Freddie I would give him an update as soon as I know more, but I could see the joy in his eyes as Rick and I left. For all the victims of such evil and abuse, Jo-Jo being found really will be welcome news.

I turn to look at the front desk and am not surprised to find it unmanned. Something just doesn’t add up in my head. I still don’t understand what the gathered group are expecting to be told by waiting here. From what I’ve learned from Rick and the other officer, Jo-Jo hasn’t actually been found yet, only sighted. It could be many more hours before something concrete is confirmed, unless the truth is actually being withheld from the public at the moment. Cavendish was already under enough pressure to locate Jo-Jo without having her every move under scrutiny. Wouldn’t it be just like her to hold back, only to suddenly present Jo-Jo for the UK media to observe and celebrate the fine job she’s undertaken? Maybe I’m being cynical, but I can’t help thinking that Jo-Jo might already be inside with Tina and Trey for some carefully orchestrated presentation.

That is, until I spot DS Robin Myers escorting Tina across the road and round to the rear of the station. Forcing my way back through the crowd, I hurry after the pair of them.

‘Tina, I heard the news, is there anything I can do?’ I ask as Robin presses her pass up to the sensor securing the door.

Myers looks at me and frowns, gently shaking her head, but it’s already too late.

‘News? What is the news, Emma?’ Tina says hurriedly, quickly embracing me. ‘All I’ve been told is to come to the station. Have they… have they found Jo-Jo?’

I look to Robin again but she is still shaking her head. Something feels very wrong about this.

I’ve never been good at thinking on my feet and as my brain tries to think of a way out of this Freudian slip, I flounder.

‘Um… I don’t know,’ I say shrugging. ‘I only heard that there was a gathering here. I assumed it meant good news. No?’

It’s lame, but Tina doesn’t seem to notice. ‘You think? Do you think they’ve found her?’

I’m looking for Robin to step in here and either tell me to pipe down or offer some better explanation, but she remains tight-lipped, eventually settling for ‘We should head in.’

The door buzzes, but as Robin pulls on the handle someone is pushing it from the other side, and suddenly Detective Cavendish is in the doorway, staring daggers at me. She doesn’t speak, instead pushing past me, as she leads out