Chapter 57
‘Georgie!’ Meg yelled, rattling the heavy door. ‘Can you hear me, Georgie?’
She stopped, straining to hear something from inside the building, but there was nothing. ‘Georgie!’
She shook the door again, but it was stuck. She froze at the sound of voices in the distance.
Heart pounding, she raced back to her hiding spot under the stairs and fumbled with her phone as she dialled triple zero.
‘Police,’ she said, breathless, when the operator answered.
When she was put through, she spoke steadily, quietly. ‘I’m at the Highland Dairy factory in Hartwell. A man has locked my cousin in a building. She’s—’
There were footsteps now.
‘Someone’s coming. I can’t stay on the phone. They might hear me. Please. You need to hurry!’
She hung up and squinted through the gap as the footsteps grew louder. Then Hugh Thorburn came into sight.
‘I think she’s in here,’ he said. Who was he talking to? Was Dean back?
‘Who’s in here?’ a second voice said.
Meg moved her head from side to side, up and down, trying to see who it was. Hugh didn’t answer.
‘You’ve dragged me here, now tell me what the hell’s going on!’
‘Dean locked some chick in a cupboard and took off.’
‘What the fuck? Jesus Christ. We need to get the hell out of here!’
‘Mate, we can’t leave her locked up! The place is deserted! How’s it going to look if she’s found dead in a goddam cupboard?’
Hugh rattled the door, yanking it, then kicked it with his foot and it swung open.
As they stepped inside, Meg glimpsed the back of a bald head.
She gasped. Spencer Ashworth? Getting Hugh and Spencer here was even better than she’d hoped, but none of this would be worth it if something happened to Georgie.
There was a shout from inside the building. Hugh? She pictured her cousin, trembling with fear. She needed to do something. What though? Physically, she didn’t stand a chance. She was five-foot-three, no match for two men.
She looked at her phone, inhaling sharply as she had an idea. She tried to slow her thoughts, think it through properly. Would it work? Maybe. Maybe not. But it was all she had. She tapped on the number, listened to it ring.
Come on. Pick up.
She checked the time—12:56. It might be too late.
It rang out.
She cursed under her breath and tapped the number again.
Answer the fucking phone.