Glancing over her shoulder at the child’s seat in the rear, she found it curious he didn’t speak of his family. Nor had he made any reference to working over the weekend and therefore being away from them. It did come with the job, after all. Then again, maybe he silently celebrated not being around the child. Kids weren’t everyone’s cup of tea.
Richard was keen. So keen, in fact, he was already asking about maternity leave, pay and whether she would want to go back to work at all. They weren’t quite on the same page. It wasn’t that she hadn’t necessarily been truthful with him, more that she’d ducked out of voicing what she was thinking. It was often easier to keep quiet and let others do the talking, particularly if they might not take to your opinion. Got to think about these things, he would often say. Presumably, that was his way of pointing out her age. She didn’t see the issue. It was commonplace for women to have children in their late thirties, perhaps even into their early forties…
Turning her thoughts away from her relationship and towards Holly, she considered what they knew. The girl was an enigma to them, once you stripped away the veneer of presentation projected to the world. Through her parent’s eyes, she was off to medical school. Perhaps struggling a little academically but with their resources they could pay for the extra she needed to get through. Then she would follow them into their profession, pursuing the same career and lifestyle. She found herself wondering if the younger sibling was being funnelled in the same direction. That was one to check.
Whatever Colin and Marie Bettany thought, they didn’t appear to know their eldest very well. Listening to Eric’s description of her bedroom along with the results of the detailed search, she saw similarities of her own experience as a teenager. Eric documented the lack of cosmetics found in her room, assuming Holly took them with her to prepare for the night ahead. Judging from the impression she had of the Bettanys, it was more likely Holly kept much of her make-up secreted somewhere. Most likely applying the more striking elements to her appearance elsewhere, away from the home if it was a regular theme. The image of Holly’s appearance on the path came to mind. The black eye-liner, pale foundation and the bright red lipstick. Instinct suggested she was masking herself, desperate to present an image to the world other than the one she usually offered. Or perhaps not the world, maybe just one person. One special person.
Janssen applied the brakes. They snatched so fiercely that Tamara grasped the handle of the door alongside her seeking to brace against the force of the manoeuvre. Caught by surprise, she glared at Janssen. He released the brakes, looking up the road before turning the car and setting off back in the direction they’d just come from.
“Sorry.”
She didn’t acknowledge the apology but had no time to ask what he was up to as the car pulled off the main road at the next intersection. Janssen stopped the car, switching off the engine and releasing his seatbelt. “Are we going somewhere?” The words were angry, a result of shock and surprise.
“We just drove past Mark.”
Tamara unfastened her own belt and hopped out of the car, rushing to catch up with the tall detective as his long legs strode back towards the main carriageway. As they approached the junction, a young man came into view from their right. He appeared startled to see the two of them squaring off his path in front of him. He stopped, looking to both left and right before glancing back over his shoulder.
“We just want to have a word, Mark. There’s no need to think about running.” Janssen was authoritative but at the same time his demeanour was reassuring. She was impressed. Mark visibly appeared to relax, his shoulders dropping and any suggestion he was preparing to run dissipated. The boy still looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights, though, and she stepped forward, smiling, seeking to put him at ease.
“Mark. My name’s Tamara and this is Tom Janssen. We’re police officers. It is true, we only want to speak with you about Holly. We’re trying to get to the bottom of what happened to her. That’s all.” He fixed her with a stare. When she first spoke, his eyes conveyed fear but now, glancing between the two of them, perhaps as the initial surprise faded, he seemed calmer, more agreeable. “We were just going to grab a bite to eat. Are you hungry?” Mark’s lips parted and she saw his tongue pressed against the lower lip. He appeared thoughtful, assessing her just as much as he was her offer. Then, he nodded.
The officers parted, turning side on and Mark came forward to stand between them. Janssen smiled. She knew it was forced. A gesture to put the boy at ease but even so, he managed to make it seem natural. She had the impression Tom Janssen smiled a lot. Only, perhaps, not so much while at work.
They found a small café still open after the lunchtime rush. The sign listing the opening hours stated the business should be closed. Full trade would take effect at the end of the month, coinciding with the fall of Easter this year, if Tamara had worked the dates out correctly. She always struggled with the fluctuations of the religious calendar not having been raised among it. She presupposed the onset
