Stolen by Rebecca Muddiman Page A

again. ‘I just...’ she started. ‘I didn’t...’ Another look at the lens. ‘I didn’t believe it. I didn’t want to. I thought maybe I was wrong. That I was confused. I wanted to be wrong. I couldn’t understand it.’
    ‘And how do you feel now? What’s gone through your mind over the past day?’
    Abby shook her head. ‘I feel guilty,’ she said. ‘I feel like I should’ve stopped it. I keep thinking is it my fault?’ She looked at the reporter. ‘I just wish that...’
    ‘Wish what, Abby?’
    ‘I wish... I just want her home. I just want Beth home. Whoever has her, please, just bring her home.’ Abby closed her eyes.
    ‘The police have been searching throughout the area, they’ve appealed for witnesses to come forward but so far no one has provided them with anything. No one has seen Beth. There’ve been no sightings, no witnesses. Do you think the police are doing enough?’
    Abby looked confused. ‘Yes, they’ve been... I’m sure they’re doing everything they can-’
    ‘I’ve been told the police are going to start searching local rivers and waterways, that police divers are being brought in. Do you think this is an indication of where they think the investigation is going? Have they suggested to you that they’re changing the focus of their search?’
    ‘What?’ Abby asked and looked around her at the people off-screen. ‘What are you talking about? The police are still looking for my daughter. Beth is still alive. Someone out there has her and they’re going to find her.’
    The scene cut back to the reporter standing outside the Henshaws’ house. ‘An emotional scene, I’m sure you’ll agree. Since I spoke to Abby Henshaw a few hours ago, police have confirmed that as well as the police divers, they will be continuing their search on land of local areas with a team of over a hundred police officers, as well as having the cooperation of forces across the country. So perhaps not all hope is lost yet.’
    The picture cut back to the studio. ‘Hannah Jones, in Redcar. In other news...’
    Helen switched off the TV. She wondered if the police really thought the baby was dead and how long they’d keep searching. She wondered how that reporter could sleep at night. And she wondered why Abby Henshaw hadn’t cried once.
    Paul was still gone when Gardner finally called Abby back. She wasn’t sure how many times she’d called him. How many messages she’d left.
    ‘Is it true?’ she asked, before he could say anything. ‘You’re checking rivers. You’re looking for her body? Is it true?’
    She heard him sigh. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘We’ve started a search using police divers but that doesn’t mean we think she’s dead. We’re just covering everything we can.’
    Abby’s anger finally broke and she started to cry. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why did I have to hear it from that fucking reporter?’
    ‘I’m sorry,’ Gardner said. ‘I really am. The information wasn’t officially released.’
    Abby wiped her face with her sleeve. ‘Have you found anything?’
    ‘No. We’re still canvassing the local area. We’re still working with forces across the country. We haven’t stopped looking. We won’t stop until we find her. Remember that.’

Chapter Twenty-Four
    It was early on Thursday morning when Gardner arrived at the Henshaws’. Paul answered the door and let him in without a word, leading him into the kitchen. He took a seat as if he was waiting for the all too familiar speech to begin. No leads, nothing new to report, hang in there.
    Gardner wondered why Abby hadn’t run down the stairs like she usually did. Perhaps she was finally sleeping. He hadn’t spoken to her since the incident with the reporter. Why would anyone suggest to an agonised mother that her baby was likely to be dead? He knew why. Ratings. To get a reaction from Abby that would make good television. The media were the scum of the earth. And yet part of him couldn’t help admit she’d been