Finding Katie

Chapter 31

Ben

Waiting for news about Katie was one of the hardest things I had ever done. My patience, which usually dealt effortlessly with obstinate clients and incongruous requests, was stretched to the point of snapping.

I didn't expect her to contact me directly, but I couldn't – refused to – deny the tiny hope that insisted on residing in my heart that she would. That wherever she was, she would somehow find a way to let me know she was safe.

By Thursday I was close to falling apart. When I finally made it to Darnell & Morecombe, I almost forgot to get off the lift on the right floor. Every time I called Katie, her phone number was unavailable. Not even James could find a trace of her. His contact at Heathrow had finally confirmed that she hadn't boarded the plane to Cambodia, nor under another name, but no taxi driver remembered having driven her back to the city.

I'd gone to the rehab centre on Tuesday with the faint hope that someone there might know something, but it took but a minute of talking to Vincent before I knew that Katie had told the manager even less about her past than she had to me.

There had been no mentioning of her plans in the regretful resignation she'd emailed to Vincent on Sunday night, and any email sent to her bounced back with a message of non-delivery.

Vincent was a worried as I, and as I'd walked past the reception desk, Bridget behind it had stared at me the whole way. Then stood and leaned over it, and in a whisper declared, "You know."

That had stopped me in my track. To my astonishment, the grey-haired lady knew too and tearfully confessed that it was she who had convinced Katie not to tell me the truth before we'd gone to Cambridge. Much to both our chagrin, she neither had any idea where Katie could be.

The lift doors closed behind me, and I managed a smile at Fiona behind the reception desk.

The young woman smiled back and shook her head, anticipating my question. "I'm sorry, Ben. No deliveries for you today either."

The last two mornings I'd been the first to arrive at the firm, and the last to leave, though I'd managed very little actual work, as my office was where Katie had delivered the letter and flash drive to. But this morning I'd slept right through my alarm after having slept only a few hours each night since Sunday.

I hid my grimace behind a smile. "Thank you. Please, let me know if–"

"What the fuck is this?"

Both Fiona and I turned to the corridor leading to the offices, but the surly man standing there was too busy looking daggers at the young woman before him to notice our stares.

"I'm sorry, Mr Herbert," Dave's assistant who had just handed him a cup said. Her cheeks were pale and her hands clasped tightly before her. "It's the same kind of coffee I bring you every morning."

I forced myself still, though every part of me itched to react. I'd managed to avoid Dave for three days, but my endurance was stretched too thin to tolerate any kind of glare or comment from my colleague. It would be the proverbial drop, but if I started, I wouldn't be able to stop before someone peeled me off Dave, and for Katie's sake, I couldn't snap now.

Not until I knew she was safe. Then I would deal with Dave as he deserved.

My colleague looked as terrible as I felt. The lines on his forehead were deeper than usual, his forehead slick under his receding hairline, and the dark scowl directed at his assistant blacker than when Robert had told him to report to me on Aimtree.

Dave was unravelling, and that tightened the band that had constricted my gut for days now. If Dave couldn't reach Katie either it would be but a matter of time before he carried out his threat in pure spite and exposed her to the world.