Written In Blood

Chapter Forty-Eight

After a brief stop to look at the ruined farmhouse where Emily and Daisy had been found, which was still being examined by the team of forensics officers requested the previous evening, Harrison and Melissa continued up the road to the Wright Farm.

"Do you think anyone's home?" Harrison asked as he got out and headed across the yard to the front door of the farmhouse.

"It doesn't look like it," Melissa said. "Neither Kieran's Land Rover nor his dad's are here; I guess they've got to keep the farm going, despite what's happened. I guess Tara could be here," she said. "If I was her, I wouldn't want to go to school after everything; mind you, I wouldn't really want to stick around here on my own either."

Harrison considered that as he reached out to knock on the door. He had come to the farmhouse in the hope of finding Kieran Wright, and he didn't fancy having to search the entire farm for him. When there was no response after almost a minute, he knocked again, louder.

"Someone's home," Melissa said after the second knock. "I saw the curtain twitch." She pressed her face against the window to try to see into the room. She was pretty sure she knew who was in the house, but it wasn't easy to see anything. "Tara, it's Melissa, Constable Turner, can you come to the door," she called out; there was a sudden movement near the doorway of the living room, and a few seconds later the front door opened, stopping when it reached the extent of the chain.

"Who's with you?" Tara asked suspiciously through the narrow gap. Her eyes, which were about the only part of her that was visible, darted from the constable, whom she knew, to the stranger.

Melissa was not surprised by the way the young girl was acting, she was sure she would have been acting the same way if she was in Tara's position. "This is Detective Inspector Harrison, he's here to investigate the – what's been happening here recently," she said, quickly changing what she had been about to say to try and avoid upsetting the girl.

"Hello," Harrison said in the friendliest tone he had. "I know you don't know me, but you know Constable Turner, don't you." He waited until the eyes bobbed up and down in a way that suggested the girl had nodded and then he continued. "Well, Constable Turner will tell you there's nothing to worry about, we just need to speak to your brother; do you know where he is?"

Tara nodded quickly and then made to shut the door.

Harrison's hand reached out to stop the door being shut. "Where is he?" he asked.

"I-I think I should call my daddy," Tara said.

"You should," Melissa told her. "And you should lock the door once we're gone. First, though, where's you brother, is he on the farm?"

"He's in the East Field." With that Tara slammed the door and locked it securely, before hurrying back into the living room so she could snatch up her mobile phone. She hadn't wanted to tell the police where her brother was, it felt like a betrayal, but she knew and trusted Constable Turner and, most of all, she wanted to get the two police officers away, she didn't feel safe with them there.

Harrison started to ask, "Where's the East Field?" when the slamming of the door cut him off, leaving him to look at it in surprise.

"It's alright, sir," Melissa said quickly. "I'm pretty sure I know where it is."

With her phone pressed to her ear, Tara watched from the window as Melissa and the inspector returned to their car and left the yard. She felt a little better when she saw them head down the road, but that was offset by the panic inspired when the phone she was calling rang and rang and rang before finally tripping over to the answer phone after almost a minute. She immediately jabbed at the screen to disconnect the call and try again.

Three times, Tara called her dad's number, trying to get hold of him, without success. "Where are you?" she sobbed into the phone when the call tripped over to the answer machine for the third time. "I need you, daddy, where are you? The police were here, they wanted to know where Kieran is, I think something's up."

Malcolm Wright struck the nail one last time. Finished with his repairs, which had taken longer than expected thanks to a handful of cows who had discovered the original damage, and made it worse on their way into the next field, he gathered up his things, ran an eye over the cows in the field to be sure everything was alright, and headed for his Land Rover.

The first thing he did when he climbed behind the wheel was check his mobile phone. His heart leaped into his mouth and he went cold all over when he saw that he had a missed call, which reminded him of Tara's failed efforts to get hold of him on Sunday - he should have been carrying the phone with him, he thought, but quickly dismissed it by reminding himself that it wouldn't have made any difference, he never heard it ring when he did have it about his person. He felt even worse, if that were possible, when he unlocked the phone and saw that it was actually three missed calls and a voice-mail from Tara.

His heart lurched in his chest briefly, but he ignored it as he concentrated on his phone and quickly accessed his voice-mail so he could listen to the message from his younger daughter – it was short, only a few seconds long, but it was enough to make him grope for his keys, which were still in the ignition, and scare his cows as he turned the Land Rover around and raced for the gate.

He brought his Land Rover to a skidding stop once he reached home; throwing open the door next to him, he raced to the back door, which opened at his touch. He felt a moment's annoyance at that, he had told Tara to make sure she kept all the doors shut and locked while she was on her own, but it quickly changed to fear as it occurred to him that the door might be unlocked because something had happened to his daughter.

"Tara, Tara! Where are you, honey?" he called out as he crossed the kitchen and started down the passage.

"Daddy!" There was no mistaking the relief in the young girl's voice as Tara appeared from the living room and practically threw herself into her father's arms. "Where were you?" she asked accusingly. "I called and called and called, but you didn't answer. I thought something had happened to you." Had there been anyone there to witness it, they would have been amazed at the way Tara went from relieved to accusing to scared in the space of just a few seconds.

"Sorry, honey." Malcolm hugged his daughter reassuringly and then continued to the living room, which wasn't easy because Tara didn't want to let go of him, she clung to him as if she thought he was going to disappear the moment she released him. "But you know how I am, I'm useless with that phone. I was fixing a fence in one of the North fields when you called, so I didn't know about it 'til I was done, but I hurried back as soon as I heard your message.

"You said the police were here looking for Kieran, did Lewis say why, or why he didn't call me?"

Tara shook her head. "It wasn't Sergeant Mitchell," she said. "It was Constable Turner, there was a detective with her; they didn't say why they wanted Kieran, just that they were looking for him. I told them he's in the East field, then I tried to call you. I was scared when you didn't answer, daddy."

"I'm sorry, honey," Malcolm apologised again. "Do you feel better now?"

"A little," Tara said with a hesitant nod of her head.

"Good. Since you're feeling better, why don't you go and put the kettle on, make us some tea, while I call Lewis and see if I can find out what's going on."