Chapter 34
Poppy barely slept for worrying. Every time she closed her eyes, her mind circled back to the same question, over and over, her head thumping with tension.
Where the hell was Keira?
Her best friend’s messages had been vague, and the fact she had flat-out lied about where she was only made it worse.
Greg might still be clinging to the idea that Keira was playing some kind of game, but Poppy knew her better than that. Keira didn’t just randomly disappear. And she didn’t ignore people. She was one of the fiercest women Poppy knew; unapologetically honest and loyal down to her bones.
This was completely out of character for her.
By the time the sun began to rise, Poppy had given up on sleep altogether.
She checked her phone, even though it was far too early for Greg to have any news.
He had promised he would speak with Keira’s mum. She just had to be patient.
That was easier said than done and she found herself pottering around the villa unable to settle.
At least Tom would be here later on today.
She would have asked him to go round and see Greg, but it seemed unfair when he had to pack.
And she didn’t want him to miss his afternoon flight.
Instead, she messaged him with a quick update on the Keira situation and said she would fill him in on the details when he arrived this evening.
Knowing she was running low on groceries and not wanting Tom to return home to an empty fridge, she decided to head down to the mini-market. At least it would pass some time and stop her keep looking at her phone.
The walk felt longer than usual and there was a crispness to the air that she hadn’t felt during the daytime before, as if Crete had finally decided to fully embrace autumn. Although the sun was out, there wasn’t as much warmth in it, and it did little to lift the heaviness in her chest.
Inside the mini-market, she grabbed water and bread, cheese and ham, and a few bits of fruit. Enough to see them through the next couple of days. Before heading back, she checked her phone. Only a couple of bars, but there was nothing from Greg.
Irritation sparked, cutting through her anxiety. He had said he would call Keira’s mum this morning and it was already gone eleven. She didn’t think it was unreasonable to expect an update.
What if he changed his mind? They didn’t like him, so maybe he’d decided it wasn’t worth the hassle.
Her stomach twisted. No. She had to believe he wouldn’t do that. For all of Greg’s faults, he loved Keira. Poppy was sure of it.
She logged on to Messenger and their chat thread.
Have you spoken to Keira’s mum yet?
He wasn’t online, but hopefully he would see it and reply soon.
Lugging everything back to the villa was a chore. Her legs were leaden and her thoughts were spiralling. It was making her nauseous.
By the time the villa came into view, sweat was beading on the nape of her neck and she was getting thirsty. A long drink and a shower were first on the agenda, she decided, stopping in her tracks even as she had the thought.
Recognising the van parked in the driveway just inside the gate, her stomach roiled with sudden nerves. The side panel caught the sunlight, highlighting the familiar lettering: Martin Roe Maintenance.
Why was he here? Had he come because of the cameras?
Poppy slowed her steps, instinctively keeping her distance, her grip tightening on the heavy bags in her hands. The last thing she wanted was to walk straight into him.
She edged backwards, moving slightly off the path and behind the hedgerow. Here she could see the front of the villa without being immediately obvious.
There was no way she was going inside while he was there, but she was desperately thirsty now. Setting the bags down, she reached for a water bottle, uncapping the lid and taking a few big chugs.
As she was putting it back in the bag, she heard movement. Glancing up, she saw the front door open and Martin appear.
Poppy quickly stepped back.
He carried a black case in one hand – hard-shelled and compact – the kind you’d expect to see holding tools or equipment. Under his other arm was a smaller cardboard box, partially open, with what looked like wires or components visible inside. Had he been installing new cameras?
She half expected him to look straight at her, but he didn’t. He didn’t even look around. Instead, he walked round to the back of the van.
She watched as he set the items down and opened the doors. Now they were on the ground, she had a clearer view, and in the box she could see cables, but also white shell cases. She recognised them as the devices she had removed that looked like smoke alarms.
As he hopped up into the back of the van, her pulse began to thud in her ears as realisation dawned. He hadn’t been installing new cameras. He was taking away the old ones.
Whistling to himself, he climbed back out, this time leaving the van doors wide open as he headed back into the villa.
If he was removing evidence so nothing could be linked back to him, Poppy and Tom would have no proof to show the police. It would literally be their word against Martin. She couldn’t let him get away with it, but how much time did she have before he came back out again?
All she had to do was find the box and remove it. It would take seconds. Then she could hide it somewhere until Tom arrived.
Realising she didn’t have a choice, she crept towards the van, keeping low, her movements quick but cautious as the gravel crunched softly under her trainers. Her heart was hammering against her ribs as she reached the open doors, and she looked briefly towards the house.
There was no sign of him.
She stepped up into the back of the van. The cluttered space stank of oil and metal. Tools were stacked neatly along one side and compartments were built into the interior holding various bits of equipment, but the floor of the van was a mess.
She spotted the toolbox, but where was the box with the fake smoke detector cameras?
Carefully she moved further back, picking her way slowly, not to trip over the many hazards in the way.
Sound came from outside and she froze, recognising it was footsteps.
Her head snapped back towards the doors – just in time to see them slam shut. Darkness swallowed her and for a second she didn’t move, her brain struggling to catch up to what had just happened.
In the next second, panic hit hard.
‘No!’
She lunged towards the doors, not concerned about being careful this time, the toe of her trainer catching on something heavy and solid, her breath catching even as she grabbed at the handle, yanking it hard.
Nothing. The door didn’t budge.
Her breath came faster now, a hot wave of sickly fear adding to her panic as her hands scrambled, trying the other side, then back again.
It wasn’t locked, she was sure of it, but maybe it didn’t open from the inside.
She had to get out before he drove away.
But even as she had the thought, she heard the driver’s door open, then close. As the engine started, vibration hummed through the metal beneath her feet.
Poppy stumbled, catching herself against the side, as the van began to move.
‘Shit. Shit!’
Her mind raced. She didn’t think he had seen her. He had closed the van doors not realising she was inside. But if he found her when he stopped—
She cut off the thought abruptly, cold dread settling in the pit of her stomach.
Martin had been removing the cameras from the villa. He wouldn’t do that unless he had put them there in the first place. Unless he had known they had stopped working.
If he realised what she knew, what would he do?
The van picked up speed, turning out onto the road, the movement shifting her weight again. She grabbed a wall bracket to steady herself, forcing herself to breathe, conscious that her bag with her phone in was on the side of the road with the groceries, so she couldn’t even call anyone for help.
She couldn’t afford to lose it. Not now. Just think.
He didn’t know he had a passenger. That was to her advantage. For now, she needed to stay quiet.
It wasn’t easy. The drive seemed endless and every turn, every change in speed, every bump in the road, made it harder to stay balanced.
She had absolutely no idea where they were going.
Although she tried to listen, tried to piece together the direction from the odd sounds she heard, it was impossible.
At one point, the van slowed, coming to a stop, although the engine remained running, and she heard the sound of muffled voices outside. Was Martin getting out?
She glanced frantically at the pile of clutter. Some of it was high enough to hide behind, though he would see her if he got in the back of the van. It was her only option, though, so she quickly stepped across, ducking down instinctively.
There it was, she realised. Right in front of her. The box of fake smoke alarms.
She waited, wondering what was happening, but then, after a few moments they were moving again.
Poppy stayed where she was, not daring to move.
When they stopped again, it was different.
The engine cut and she was aware of the silence.
There were no voices, no passing traffic.
Hearing the driver’s door open again, then the sound of footsteps, she flattened herself behind the stacked equipment, her heart thundering so loudly, she was sure it would give her away.
The back doors opened and from her position she could see Martin’s legs, then beyond him a strip of pale ground, rough and uneven.
She didn’t move, even tried her best not to breathe, as he reached for something. The toolbox, she thought. He pushed the door shut again, but it didn’t quite catch, a thin sliver of light still illuminating the interior.
Poppy waited. Although desperate to get out, she needed to be certain he was gone first. When the silence stretched on, she moved herself slowly forward, easing the door open just enough to peer out.
Her stomach dropped. They were in the middle of nowhere.
No road. Just rough ground reaching out in every direction.
Then she spotted it, off to the side. A villa. It was another large white building like Tom’s, but even more isolated.
She caught a glimpse of Martin walking towards it. In one hand he carried the black toolbox, while in the other was a brown paper bag. It looked like some kind of takeaway.
He must have stopped to pick up lunch on the way.
Did he live here?
The front door opened and he disappeared inside.
Poppy’s pulse hammered as she realised this was her chance. Grabbing the box of camera devices, she swung her legs out of the van, dropping to the ground. Every nerve in her body was screaming at her to run.
Now she was outside and could see properly, she realised just how far inland they were.
Looking down, she spotted a few buildings dotted along the coastline.
From up here, the sea seemed so far away.
And the villa itself was imposing and looked expensive.
All of the windows had wooden shutters and most of them had been pulled down, suggesting it was empty for the winter.
No, Martin didn’t live here, she was certain. It must be another property that he looked after.
There were fewer places for her to hide up here. Just a small group of trees beyond the villa. Would she be wisest to make a run for it while he was still inside and try to reach a place of safety? Or should she hide in the trees and wait there for Martin to leave?
As she debated, she took a step back, turning away.
That was when a sound came from inside the villa.
A scream.
It was so faint she almost missed it, but the second time it came, it was clearer.
Poppy froze. Her blood turning to ice.