CHILDHUNT: A Mystery & Suspense Thriller in the Bestselling Diana Rivers Series (The Diana Rivers Mysteries Book 5) by Faith Mortimer Page B
Authors: Faith Mortimer
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fists. He glanced up at the ceiling, ignoring the inspector. “I need help, not hindrance. My wife was innocent then just as she is now.”
He stood up straight and looked around the room as if for the first time. It was in chaos. Items had been removed from the drawers of a dresser and strewn haphazardly on the floor. The police had made a quick search throughout the house before concentrating their efforts outside. A police photographer had arrived and was taking photographs of the kitchen and the den. William noticed where Debbie had obviously spilt coffee over her computer; it had dried to a sticky smear across the keys. Every policeman seemed to have a mobile telephone, and they all seemed to ring at once, every five minutes. William wanted to take their own house phone off the hook, but decided against it in case someone rang with news of the children. So far, there had been little aggravation from the media, and William thanked Cyprus for living partially in the ‘dark ages’. Had they been in the USA or the UK, they would have had hoards of cameramen, photographers and reporters banging on the front door by then.
The inspector answered his own mobile yet again and finished the call saying, “I’ll make a statement later. Yes, yes, later.”
William dreaded the idea of the newspapers and TV getting in on the act. He would never forget the haunted look on Debbie’s face when he last saw her. Feeling frustrated, he elbowed past the inspector, who was making another call, and rushed upstairs. William had left Debbie resting in their bedroom, and when he opened the door, he saw Diana sitting on one side of the bed, and he registered that the visiting doctor was on the point of leaving. Catching his eye, William half raised his hands in a gesture of appeal. Putting down his black case, the physician nodded, moved across the room to Debbie and spoke in a calm voice.
“Debbie, William has come to see you. Debbie, I’m sure you can hear me. I said William is here. He’s worried about you. Please talk to him, Debbie.”
William hurried to his wife’s side and knelt down. Debbie was lying in a similar position to when he left her. He saw that someone—Diana most probably—had removed her wet, mud-stained clothes and dressed her in a warm dressing gown. William felt his heart wrench. She looked so fragile and helpless lying there. He was instantly reminded of how much alike Debbie and Hannah were and nearly broke down.
“Darling, it’s me, William. Debbie, please listen. You’ve got to help the children. The police are trying to find them. We’ve got to find them. Darling, please try and remember what happened because Hannah and Charlie need you, and only you can help.” His voice was low and thick with emotion.
The doctor coughed. “Careful, William,” he said softly. “I’ve given her a sedative because she’s very shocked. So far, she hasn’t responded to anything I’ve asked her. I believe it might have something to do with the email.”
William stared at Debbie for a moment before switching his attention to the older man. “Maybe you’re right, but we’ve got to be sure.” He moved his gaze from the kind, sensitive face of the practitioner and spoke to his wife in a gentle voice. “Debbie, sweetheart, please don’t worry about the email. I know all about it, and I’ll deal with it. The important thing now is to find the children. You must help us. Can you tell us why you were digging in the orchard with your bare hands? Did you lose something?”
Debbie’s eyes flew open and she shuddered. She moved her lips and uttered a strangled cry. “Will! You have to find them…hurry.”
“Yes, of course, darling. But you have to help us.”
On hearing his words, she struggled to sit up and caught hold of his arm. William looked down and saw her torn and dirty fingernails. He noticed she had specks of soil on her face and in her hair. Why had she been out in the orchard in that dreadful
He stood up straight and looked around the room as if for the first time. It was in chaos. Items had been removed from the drawers of a dresser and strewn haphazardly on the floor. The police had made a quick search throughout the house before concentrating their efforts outside. A police photographer had arrived and was taking photographs of the kitchen and the den. William noticed where Debbie had obviously spilt coffee over her computer; it had dried to a sticky smear across the keys. Every policeman seemed to have a mobile telephone, and they all seemed to ring at once, every five minutes. William wanted to take their own house phone off the hook, but decided against it in case someone rang with news of the children. So far, there had been little aggravation from the media, and William thanked Cyprus for living partially in the ‘dark ages’. Had they been in the USA or the UK, they would have had hoards of cameramen, photographers and reporters banging on the front door by then.
The inspector answered his own mobile yet again and finished the call saying, “I’ll make a statement later. Yes, yes, later.”
William dreaded the idea of the newspapers and TV getting in on the act. He would never forget the haunted look on Debbie’s face when he last saw her. Feeling frustrated, he elbowed past the inspector, who was making another call, and rushed upstairs. William had left Debbie resting in their bedroom, and when he opened the door, he saw Diana sitting on one side of the bed, and he registered that the visiting doctor was on the point of leaving. Catching his eye, William half raised his hands in a gesture of appeal. Putting down his black case, the physician nodded, moved across the room to Debbie and spoke in a calm voice.
“Debbie, William has come to see you. Debbie, I’m sure you can hear me. I said William is here. He’s worried about you. Please talk to him, Debbie.”
William hurried to his wife’s side and knelt down. Debbie was lying in a similar position to when he left her. He saw that someone—Diana most probably—had removed her wet, mud-stained clothes and dressed her in a warm dressing gown. William felt his heart wrench. She looked so fragile and helpless lying there. He was instantly reminded of how much alike Debbie and Hannah were and nearly broke down.
“Darling, it’s me, William. Debbie, please listen. You’ve got to help the children. The police are trying to find them. We’ve got to find them. Darling, please try and remember what happened because Hannah and Charlie need you, and only you can help.” His voice was low and thick with emotion.
The doctor coughed. “Careful, William,” he said softly. “I’ve given her a sedative because she’s very shocked. So far, she hasn’t responded to anything I’ve asked her. I believe it might have something to do with the email.”
William stared at Debbie for a moment before switching his attention to the older man. “Maybe you’re right, but we’ve got to be sure.” He moved his gaze from the kind, sensitive face of the practitioner and spoke to his wife in a gentle voice. “Debbie, sweetheart, please don’t worry about the email. I know all about it, and I’ll deal with it. The important thing now is to find the children. You must help us. Can you tell us why you were digging in the orchard with your bare hands? Did you lose something?”
Debbie’s eyes flew open and she shuddered. She moved her lips and uttered a strangled cry. “Will! You have to find them…hurry.”
“Yes, of course, darling. But you have to help us.”
On hearing his words, she struggled to sit up and caught hold of his arm. William looked down and saw her torn and dirty fingernails. He noticed she had specks of soil on her face and in her hair. Why had she been out in the orchard in that dreadful
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