31. Sam
Sam
B ack at the station, I go in to see Inspector Wyatt in his makeshift office. I’m pleased he’s been moved out of my space, but still having him here makes me uneasy. This is my station.
I knock on the door, and he waves a hand to signal me in.
‘Any update on the search, sir?’ I ask. It’s killing me not being involved in the investigation, but at the same time I understand the reason.
Plus, interviewing the children has been a meaningful distraction and insight into what Iris was doing.
‘Not yet. We have two teams working at the moment. One is focused on identifying the final two missing children. The other is following leads on where they’ve taken Iris and are hiding out.’
‘And they’ve uncovered nothing?’
He clears his throat and narrows his eyes at me.
‘With respect, sir, it’s been twenty-four hours now and they have nothing?’
‘They cannot move freely right now. There are patrols everywhere, airports are under alert, and their faces are all over the media.’
‘That doesn’t stop them from hurting Iris though.’
His face softens slightly and he nods. ‘I know, but we are doing everything we can. Have you found out anything after speaking with the kids?’
‘Yes. I had a sketch artist at the hospital this morning and can confirm Matteas’ wife, Eva, is also part of the organisation. She must be the missing link that had Brent hesitating to move in with arrests.’
Inspector Wyatt raises his eyebrows at me. ‘That’s quite a development.’
‘There’s more.’
‘Why don’t you sit down, Sergeant.’
***
I spend hours looking through missing person’s reports and birth notices from four years ago, but it only brings more questions.
I started with this taskforce almost two years ago but the increase in child abductions and the information we’ve collated from previous arrests suggests this organisation has been active for about four years.
Archie could be one of their first victims.
I’m about to pack up and head over to Mum’s to see the kids when my phone rings.
It’s an unknown number. I swipe my finger across the screen to answer and bring it to my ear. ‘Sergeant Anderson speaking.’
There’s a pause on the other end of the line for a moment. Then a woman’s voice. ‘Sergeant,’ she says. ‘Nice to speak to you again.’
Her voice is sickly sweet, and I want to scream down the phone at her. This is the woman who lied to my wife and then to me in the most manipulative of ways. She’s nothing short of evil and I won’t let her play me again.
‘I know you’re in on it. Where’s Iris?’ I ask.
There’s a pause. ‘Your wife is fine,’ she says. ‘For now.’
For now. Those words fill me with panic and I stand, walking over to close the door to my office.
‘What do you want?’ I ask, sitting back down at my desk.
‘You’re going to help us get out of this mess your wife got us in.’
My stomach rolls at this. What are they going to ask of me? I’d do anything for Iris. Anything. But there are at least three of the most despicable criminals hiding away there.
I say nothing, and Eva continues. ‘We will give you Iris and you will find a way to give us a clear passage to a private airport.’
‘I can’t do that. There are cops everywhere.’
‘Then Iris dies.’
The words hit me like a freight train. But I also know she is their one, and possibly only, bargaining chip right now. Wherever they are, they can’t stay there forever and they know it.
‘I need to hear Iris is okay before I agree to anything.’
Eva says nothing on the other end of the phone, but the sound of keys in a lock tells me she heard me.
‘Get up,’ Eva snaps, and the sound of Iris groaning in the background has me on my feet, pacing the room.
‘Put me on video call,’ I demand.
Eva laughs. Laughs. Such a manipulative, evil woman. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘At least put me on speaker,’ I say through gritted teeth.
‘Sam.’ Iris’ voice is quiet and gravelly, like she desperately needs to drink some water.
‘Darling, are you okay?’ A tear rolls down my cheek. How the hell did we get here? My wife being held hostage. I took this role to end these people. I never imagined it would come to this.
‘Sam,’ she says again. ‘Whatever she wants, don’t give it to her.’
A loud slap pierces through the phone and Iris cries out. I slam my fist down on the desk. ‘Iris! Are you there? Do you know where you are?’
The call is disconnected.
I lean back on the desk and bite down on my fist to stifle a gut-wrenching roar.