Page 18 of The Girl in the Grave
Annie opened her eyes. Her teeth were chattering it was so cold. Why was it still so dark? Surely she’d been asleep for a while. Her mouth was even rougher than before. She had to get up for a drink whether her head could handle it or not. On the count of three she pushed herself up and hit her head on a hard, rough ceiling. ‘Argh.’ Lifting her hand to her head, she rubbed it hard, to ease the throbbing inside. She had no idea where she was or what was going on. Lifting her hands, she felt the rough surface above her and whispered, ‘What the hell?’Then she tried to move onto her side and realised she was in a confined space. Her stomach lurched as terror took over; she had no idea where she was or how long she’d been in here. Just then she heard someone moving around somewhere in the dark, and she began to scream and cry for help until her voice had gone hoarse and it was hard to breathe.
Help didn’t arrive. Whoever it was sneaking around knew she was in there and didn’t care. Some bastard had put her here in the first place. She’d been so cold when she’d woken up, but now she was too hot; it was stuffy and getting harder to breathe. How was that possible? Her mind was spinning. She was inside a box, it seemed. Butwhowould want to put her in here,whywould they? It didn’t make any sense.
‘It’s just a joke. Any moment, Estelle or Gary will appear and let me out. They have to,’ she whispered to herself.
Trying once more to push open the lid of the box she was in, she found it was too heavy and wouldn’t move. She lay back trying not to breathe too deeply, knowing she needed to conserve the oxygen. A voice in her head whispered,you’re going to die here, no one is coming to help you. A ball of air lodged itself into her lungs: she needed to open her mouth and scream to expel it and she couldn’t. She was slowly suffocating and there wasn’t anything she could do. The panic exploded from her chest as she let out a high-pitched scream and began clawing, then scratching at the heavy panel above her head. She felt her acrylic nails begin to snap and tear off, but she didn’t care despite the pain which was hot and intense. It hurt like crazy, but it meant that she was alive, so she carried on beating, hitting, punching, scratching and pushing it with every last bit of strength. Annie knew she’d rather die fighting than lie there and do nothing.
Twenty-Nine
Estelle watched the officer’s face as he wrote down everything she said in his notebook, looking for signs he didn’t believe her. He was nodding away and interrupting her with questions, serious questions about the CCTV system and how easy it was to gain access to the staff quarters. She answered him as honestly as she could. Eventually, he shut his book.
‘Can you show me Annie’s room?’
‘Of course.’
She led him through the hotel to the staff stairs near to the kitchen, and he followed her down there, looking around. The smell of stale, sweaty feet still lingered in the air, and she frowned.
‘Sorry, it’s a bit rank down here. Too many men, not enough air fresheners.’
He laughed. ‘Smells like the locker room at work. So, what do you think has happened to Annie?’
She reached her door and turned to look at him. ‘I don’t know, but she just wouldn’t up and leave like this. She was too drunk for a start, and since she started working here she’s never missed a shift.’
‘Not even when she’s hungover?’
Estelle shook her head. ‘Definitely not; we’ve struggled through them together. Look, I know she’s an adult and not vulnerable or anything like that, but something’s wrong. I just wish I knew what it was. She’s either gone out drunk and had an accident, or…’
‘Or?’
‘Is kidnapping an actual thing here in the Lake District?’
‘You’re being serious; you think she’s been kidnapped?’
‘Maybe not kidnapped, what’s the other thing?’
‘Abducted?’
She nodded her head fervently. ‘Yes, abducted.’
‘By who?’
‘I don’t know; you’re the policeman, aren’t you supposed to be able to figure that one out?’
She pushed open Annie’s door and flicked on the light switch.
He stood on the threshold and looked around: the bed was unmade and there was the bucket tipped over on the floor next to it. A brand-new iPhone was lying on the bed; the curtains were drawn. He pulled a pair of bright blue latex gloves from the pocket of his body armour and tugged them on.
‘You stay here, whilst I look around.’
She felt slightly better now that he was taking her seriously. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have put on the gloves. Her stomach was still a mass of churning knots, but it made her feel hopeful that she was doing the right thing.
He walked around the room then stopped and bent down to look at something on the floor underneath the far side of the bed. She watched as his face registered alarm and felt her heart begin to race. What had he found? What was he looking at that she hadn’t seen? He stood up and walked towards her, pulling the door shut.
‘I need this door locking now and no one is to come back inside here. Do you understand?’
She nodded. ‘Why?’
He ignored her and began to talk into the radio clipped onto his body armour. She didn’t understand a lot of what he was saying, but she caught the words ‘CID’, ‘get the DS to call me now’ and ‘I need a CSI as soon as possible…’
