Chapter 16
Elea was sweltering in the office heat. She’d noticed a pattern: the radiators blasted out warmth in the early hours, despite ongoing budget cuts.
By morning the air had thickened with the stench of congealed takeaway that was lingering in the bins shoved into the corners of the room.
Scents had always stood out to her. The sharp tang of a fine wine, the lingering spice of expensive aftershave, the crisp, resinous scent of pine needles during her walks in the Finnish forests.
But this? This was an assault on the senses.
She resisted the urge to throw open every window.
She glanced at Mitch, who was signing out a job car.
They would be leaving soon. This morning’s briefing had been short and perfunctory as they were each allocated their jobs.
“We’ve gone from a stinking office to a smelly car.” Elea wrinkled her nose in disgust at the grease-lined takeaway wrapper in the passenger footwell as she got in. “What is it with you Brits and your takeaways?” She was partial to a pizza on occasion, but not every single day.
“It’s just come in from a night shift,” Mitch informed her.
“I’ve driven worse job cars. At least it’s got a full tank.
” He navigated the frost-kissed roads of Lincoln, slowing as a group of schoolchildren crossed the road.
“Blimey, it’s Baltic today.” He turned up the heating in the marked police car.
“You call this cold?” Elea snorted. “This isn’t cold. Where I’m from, the chill seeps through you like ghosts passing through walls.”
“That’s very . . . um . . . poetic.” Mitch threw her a grin.
Elea should have known that the words would be lost on him. They were something her daughter once wrote in a poem. She carried bits of Liisa around with her, unpacking them from her memory whenever the opportunity arose. She could not bear the thought of losing even the smallest piece of her.
“What’s it like?” Mitch interrupted her thoughts. “Living in Helsinki, I mean.”
“I’m not from Helsinki, I’m from Porvoo.”
“Oh, I thought—”
“I work in Helsinki. It’s almost an hour’s commute. Porvoo is . . .’ Elea sighed, trying to find the right words. “It’s a small town. Pretty.”
It was much more than that. Porvoo held everything and nothing for Elea.
Her heart swelled at the thought of the expansive forests and lakes.
Then there were the people who went quietly about their business, with no fanfare.
How spoiled she had been, in her beautiful little town, with the sea on her doorstep and sunsets so beautiful they mesmerised you.
It was as if mother nature had thrown everything she had to offer into one place.
But Liisa’s absence had placed a shadow over everything Elea once considered beautiful.
She gazed out of the window to the bare branches of the trees lining Yarborough Road.
In the thick of the dark Finnish winters, even the branches of the trees were cloaked in a layer of ice.
“It’s a place of contrasts,” Elea spoke wistfully.
“Summer days stretch on forever, winters can feel like one endless night. There’s a silence, deep in the forests and across the lakes. It can fill your soul, if you let it.”
“And the worst part?”
“The isolation.” Her response was immediate. “It can be your best friend or your worst enemy.” It had been both to her.
There was a pause before Mitch ventured another question. “Why did Swann leave Finland? He never talks about it.”
Elea’s blue eyes hardened momentarily. “The same reason he went there in the first place—he was running away.” The shift in her tone suggested that Mitch should let the matter rest. He took the hint, and they continued to their destination in silence, heavy traffic making the journey to Sophie’s home take twice as long as it should have done.
The red-brick house appeared quiet and respectable, a three-bedroom testament to conventional family life.
Elea had researched the property on Zoopla.
Sophie’s parents, Fiona and David, had bought it five years ago.
While they weren’t under suspicion when it came to their daughter’s disappearance, Elea had wanted to get the feel of their home.
She climbed out of the car and smoothed down her clothes.
She’d taken care to dress appropriately for this meeting.
A suit was too formal, a jumper too laid-back, so she’d paired her black blazer and shirt with designer jeans.
She couldn’t blame Fiona and David for being critical of Swann’s team so far.
She bent to retrieve her leather bag from the car footwell.
Gaining the trust of Sophie Miller’s parents wouldn’t come easily.
She recalled her own fraught past and how her disbelief had morphed into anger, until finally hatred had set in.
If I ever get hold of that bastard . . .
Elea’s jaw hardened at the thought, he’ll be begging for a quick death.
This was more than a job to her. This was as personal as it got.
She followed Mitch down the front garden.
Terracotta pots dotted the path, their withered contents killed off by the frost. An old Volvo estate car sat on the driveway, its bumper sticker advising drivers not to get too close.
If only it was that easy to keep danger at bay, Elea thought, steeling herself as she approached the front door.
She’d already seen photos of Sophie, and her resemblance to Liisa could not be denied.
Is that why Sophie had been targeted? But why now?
And why here? Elea forced her emotions down.
Today’s visit was about gaining valuable leads in order, hopefully, to mend what was broken.
A blurry figure came into view behind the glass door panel.
Elea watched Mitch straighten his posture and it occurred to her how little she knew him.
Was he a good detective or merely winging it?
What drove him? What was he like on the inside?
They might have shared a bed, but she struggled to second-guess him.
She only hoped that he wouldn’t mess this up.
The door moved silently on its hinges, and Fiona Miller’s bloodshot eyes briefly met Elea’s before fixing on Mitch.
Elea noted the weariness etched into her features, the brunette ponytail not quite containing all her hair.
Fiona’s Lincoln University sweatshirt, crumpled joggers, and stained slippers signalled a domestic life interrupted by a nightmare.
“Come in.” Fiona’s tone was flat as she ushered them inside. Mitch had already made her acquaintance, and it was obvious that Fiona wasn’t impressed.
“Would you like us to remove our shoes?” Elea asked out of courtesy.
“No need. We’re getting the carpets cleaned next week.”
Another memory chimed with Elea: cleaning every inch of her house to stop herself from going mad.
Fiona’s living room was a homely space, with nice but worn furniture and family photos lining the walls.
Sophie’s father stood, watching over his daughter as she sat curled up on the couch.
David had just turned twenty-nine, which meant he was only seventeen when he became a dad for the first time.
According to intel, he had put himself through college, becoming an electrician’s apprentice before branching out on his own.
Elea’s heart clenched at the sight—a child, safe at home.
A reflection of the void in her life. The presence of this little girl who looked so much like Liisa was enough to steal the breath from her lungs.
She quickly regained her composure. Getting emotionally involved was dangerous territory right now.
Sophie glanced up at her momentarily, her small hands wrapped tightly around the edges of an iPad.
“So?” Fiona stood, arms folded. “Have you found him yet?”
“There are several lines of enquiry under way.” Mitch’s words sounded practised as he ran through the usual spiel. Elea groaned inwardly. This didn’t help their cause.
“That basically means you haven’t got a clue.” Disgust seeped into Fiona’s words. “Your team is so bloody useless that my twelve-year-old daughter had to rescue herself.”
David rested a protective arm over his wife’s shoulders. Fiona was several inches shorter than him, but Elea got the feeling that she often spoke for them both.
Sophie’s gaze shifted between the adults, observing anxiously.
Elea crouched down to her level. “Is that your high score?” she pointed to the iPad screen.
“Wow! You’re good. I can’t even get half that.
” Sophie remained silent, her little fingers stilling on the screen.
Elea could sense the level of fear fencing the child in.
Her blonde hair cloaked her face as she dipped her head to continue her game.
“Fiona . . .” Elea stood, her voice soft as the woman continued to vocalise her discontent, “you’re right.”
Mitch stiffened, seeming slightly affronted as Elea continued.
“The police have let you, your family, and, more importantly, Sophie down. They should have done better. They should have done more.”
“Save your apologies,” Fiona replied. “The damage has been done.”
“I know how you feel.” Elea uttered the words that were guaranteed to get a reaction.
Fiona’s eyes blazed with indignation. “How? How could you possibly know what we’ve gone through?”
Elea dipped her hand into her bag and produced a Polaroid photo of another blonde girl. Wrapped up in her pink winter coat, Liisa sat astride a stout Icelandic pony, a broad grin spread across her face. Fiona and her husband stared at the image before glancing back at their own little girl.
“My daughter.” The weight of Elea’s loss was evident in her tone. “She disappeared ten years ago.”
Surprise registered on the parents’ faces. Here was shared ground.
“I haven’t given up on her,” Elea continued. “And I won’t stop looking for the monster who took Sophie.”