TW / Descriptions of panic throughout.

Chapter 13: Rescue Mission

The orange glow of the streetlamp cast a spotlight on the flakes of snow drifting slowly from the blackened sky; landing on the windscreen and dissolving into tiny puddles. Michelle's eyes traced the trails of water as they slid down towards the car bonnet.

It wasn't the freezing winter air that was making her shiver. The bright sign signalling that there were 'vacancies' at the Heffernan Lodge Hotel was a stark reminder of everything she had spent a year trying to forget. The memories she had pushed to the back of her mind came flooding forward as the neon lights illuminated the path below.

"Doesn't look like there's anyone around…" Carla murmured, her eyes skimming the dingy backstreet they were parked on. It wasn't a nice area; weeds weaved through cracks in the concrete and most of the windows were boarded up; shards of glass scattered on the street below. It wasn't all that different to the estate they'd grown up on.

Michelle nodded in acknowledgement; eyes still trained on the building in front of her. Carla turned to her, allowing her hand to fall onto the one resting in Michelle's lap. She curled her fingers around it, offering a gentle squeeze.

"You're sure we can get away with this?" She asked, her voice sombre. If they were to go ahead with their plan, there was no room for error.

"We don't have a choice." Michelle responded bluntly. She was battling exhaustion; adrenaline the only thing driving her forward. "Besides, you're the expert when it comes to CCTV. If anyone can get away with it, it's you…"

Carla let out a scoff in mock offence, relaxing slightly at the wry smile that had crossed Michelle's lips. It was the first hint of anything other than fear she'd seen the younger woman express all day. Even as they'd gone over and over the plan, making every necessary preparation, she had been trembling; her eyes wide.

"Erm, do I need to remind you about what happened when you robbed your own Bistro?" Carla shot back, raising her eyebrows.

"I didn't turn that CCTV off. I just got lucky." Michelle pointed out, her lips pulling into a thin line once again. Carla let out a sigh, her eyes falling back on the hotel.

"Let's hope we get lucky tonight, too…"

It had worked out just as they'd intended. The reception had been empty, as it had whenever Michelle had visited the year before. The receptionist had clumsily abandoned their keys in the drawer of the desk when they'd clocked off at five thirty, so it didn't take Michelle long to stumble across them. They jingled in her trembling hands as she carried them across the hallway, towards the door sporting a metallic bronze sign with the word 'PRIVATE' engraved across it in bold lettering.

Carla had immediately settled at the desk, revving the computer into action. Michelle stood nervously behind her, leaning on the leather backed chair and watching as a familiar software opened on the screen.

It felt like the loading wheel had been spinning in the centre for hours. Frustrated and on edge, Michelle pushed herself away, turning instead to the filing cabinet against the wall beside her. She flicked through the ring of keys, silently rejoicing as she found the one she wanted. She twisted it in the lock and the drawer slid open with ease.

"What are you looking for?" Carla asked, keeping her voice down in case any guests were to wander through the reception on the other side of the door.

Michelle shrugged; her brow knotted as she shifted through papers. "I don't know. Information. Hints. Home addresses, bank statements. Just anything."

Carla let out a sigh. She could tell Michelle was ready to go to pieces, that this whole ordeal was tearing her apart.

"The police will find her, Chelle. It won't be long, I promise you."

"I can't stand the waiting, Carla. I need to be doing something. Ray is about ten steps ahead of us. He could have done anything to her." Her voice remained matter-of-fact, as though trying to block out the intensity of emotion that was threatening to overwhelm her.

Carla turned her attention back to the screen, where a white box had popped up in the centre.

"Password, Chelle."

"Ray Crosby 19. Capital R." Michelle relayed, her focus still on the sheets of paper her fingers were nimbly sifting through. She'd had access to the computer system when she'd worked for Ray and had managed to dig out the password earlier that afternoon from where it had been saved on her laptop. Carla scoffed at the narcissism of it, swiftly punching it out on the keys.

"Incorrect." She stated, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.

"Oh, right… Erm. Try 20." Michelle suggested. The keys clicked as Carla's nails tapped across them again, before she let out a quiet whoop.

"I'm in. God, men are so predictable."

"I wish he was predictable enough for us to guess where Vicky is…" Michelle murmured, slamming the drawer shut; her search proving fruitless.

Carla scanned the desktop, numerous folders lined up neatly along the edge. She dragged the mouse down to the corner of the page, opening the start menu and skimming through the list of apps.

"Chelle, I think I've found it…" Her tongue hovered at the corner of her bottom lip as she stared in concentration at the screen. Before her eyes, the aqua blue screensaver was replaced by another collection of folders. There had to be hundreds of them. Carla's eyes trailed across the screen.

December 2020. November 2020. October 2020.

There was months and months' worth of footage. Carla let out a breath, her eyes falling on a final folder at the very bottom.

Live Feed.

She twisted round to find Michelle once again gazing over her shoulder, taking in the information on the screen for herself.

"You don't think…" Carla began, wary of the suggestion. The wide-eyed look Michelle was wearing told her she was probably already having the same thought. "You don't think she could be here, do you?"

Michelle swallowed, her throat scratchy and sore. She watched as, hesitantly, Carla double clicked on the last folder.

The screen opened up on a set of video camera shaped icons; each one labelled with a different room number.

Reception. Office. Bar. Room 1.

There were fifteen rooms in total, plus the communal areas and hallways. Carla hovered the mouse over the icon labelled 'Room 1'.

"God, this feels so seedy…" She exhaled. The idea of checking cameras in rooms that housed unsuspecting guests made her feel physically sick, but she couldn't shake the feeling that they needed to know.

"It's important." Michelle assured her, suffering the same internal battle. She felt like her knees could give way any second.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Carla double clicked.

The room was empty.

"One down."

With each room they searched, Michelle became more and more distressed. Her hope of ever finding Vicky was slowly ebbing away. By the sixth room she couldn't bear to look. She'd turned away, hands over her eyes as she took deep breaths, waiting for Carla to give her the verdict.

"Last one, babe…" Carla breathed, before selecting the icon. Like most of the rooms, it was empty. Bed neatly made and towels crisply folded. "Nothing…"

Michelle turned back to the screen as Carla closed the camera. She swallowed down the sob that had threatened to escape, instead resting her hands on her hips.

"Right. We need to find last year. December." She instructed; her tone urgent.

"Babe, did you want to check the night she went missing? Just in case she was here at all?"

"What difference would that make?" Michelle snapped. "She's not here now. We're wasting time." At Carla's hurt look, Michelle relented. "Sorry. Sorry, I'm just so…"

"I know, babe. I know."

Carla found the folder marked 'December 2019' and opened up the contents inside.

"Room eleven." Michelle whispered. She was staring at the screen apprehensively, subconsciously picking at the skin around her fingernails. Vicky wasn't there to stop her now.

Carla opened the folder, before sliding the mouse towards the bin shaped icon on the toolbar at the top.

"Wait!" Michelle said, quickly. "I need to see. I need to check he's not bluffing."

Carla sighed, scooting over to allow Michelle to perch on the edge of the chair beside her. She took control of the mouse, hovering over the dates listed on the screen. With a shaky breath, she opened the 20th December.

The footage started at midnight. Michelle couldn't help the quiet sob she released at the sight of Vicky, perched on the edge of the bed in her chequered nightgown, rubbing her protruding stomach. It was clear she was in pain; the first signs of labour already obvious.

Michelle skipped forward several hours, finally allowing the footage to play at its original speed just as the paramedics burst through the door.

"Don't be mad, alright?"

Her own voice, though muffled, was clear as it echoed through the computer's speaker.

"If there'd been complications-"

"You rang 999, are you mad?"

Carla watched with trepidation as the scene played out. She felt as though she were intruding on the most intimate of moments. She watched as Vicky's head dipped down, a concerned expression gracing her face, taking in the sight of her new-born as Michelle spoke.

"I needed to take that chance!"

Michelle's eyes filled with tears as she watched Sonny being carried out by paramedics, her own hand falling to rest on Vicky's forearm. She felt as though her heart had been ripped out. She had been so terrified about Vicky's wellbeing, that she hadn't stopped to think about how much she missed her. And she did, horribly. It had only been thirty hours, but it was the longest they'd been without contact in almost a year. She didn't know if she could take much longer.

She watched as the paramedics helped Vicky out of the bed.

"I'll pack your things and meet you at the hospital, okay?"

"Chelle…"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

Vicky's hand reached out, her fingers brushing against Michelle's. She offered her a watery smile, the sincerity of her words sinking in. As soon as the door had closed and Michelle was alone, she collapsed onto the spare bed; her body wracked by heavy, painful sobs.

"Turn it off." Her voice was quiet, but authoritative.

Carla did as she was told, shutting down the window, before offering Michelle a reassuring smile.

"Delete the lot. Everything."

Carla nodded. She knew from experience that only deleting certain data led to uncomfortable questioning later down the line. Michelle was right. Everything needed to go.

"It's gone." Carla whispered, as the last file disappeared from view. "I'll turn the cameras off too, so they don't catch us leaving…"

Michelle nodded. She reached across, finding Carla's hand and taking it in her own.

"Thank you." She released.

"What are we going to do now?" Carla exhaled, shutting down the computer.

Michelle sighed, before taking in another deep breath.

"It's time to phone the police."

Michelle sat with her head in her hands, not even glancing up as Carla placed a steaming mug on the coffee table in front of her. She sat down beside her, an arm snaking over her shoulders. She felt tense.

"They'll call soon…" Carla tried to reassure her, squeezing her tightly. She hated seeing Michelle like this. This wasn't how their friendship was supposed to be. Michelle was always the strong one; the sensible, bubbly one who kept everyone positive. The one who always thought of the glass as half full and never failed to find the good in people.

"It's been four hours, Carla…" She stated, defeatedly.

"I mean, how long does it take to question somebody?" Tyler threw in, ceasing his pacing up and down the hallway. "They didn't even bother to let us know that they'd taken him in!"

"We don't know that they have." Michelle stated, bitterly. She pushed herself up suddenly, unable to sit still any longer. "God, I can't take this anymore!"

Carla watched her, carefully, face falling as her best friend fell apart.

"I should have just slept with him, given him what he wanted. We could have had her back by now. She'd be safe. She'd be here with us instead of… Whatever hell he's putting her through!"

"Chelle, no. You can't think like that!" Tyler shouted, storming towards her and pulling her into a tight hug. She collapsed against his shoulder, sobbing. "She wouldn't want that. She needs us to be strong, okay? Wherever she is." His voice was softer now, his palm stroking the back of her head the way Vicky had always comforted him. There was a tight pain in his chest and a fire of rage burning in the pit of his stomach. It was a good job the police had gone after Ray first, because Tyler was sure he would have killed him.

The buzzer rang harshly through the flat, causing Michelle to let out a gasp. Carla jumped up, rushing to the receiver and pulling it to her ear.

"Hello?"

Michelle watched with baited breath, frozen to the spot, as Carla placed the phone back into its holder.

"It's the police…"

Michelle let out a strained sob. Police never came to the door with good news. If they'd found her alive, they'd have called; got Michelle to go to them. She knew it would be bad. She reached out for Tyler, suddenly feeling her knees weaken. He caught her, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

Two police officers followed Carla into the room, an air of sobriety between them. Michelle's breath hitched in her throat.

"He's killed her, hasn't he? Oh my god…" She choked out. Carla rushed to her side, pulling her into her.

"Shh, let the officers speak, Chelle…" She soothed.

"Miss Connor, we're very sorry to have to inform you that Ray Crosby has disappeared."

"You what?" Tyler roared, his face creasing into an expression of fury as Michelle sobbed into Carla's shoulder.

"We've had officers out searching since your call. There is a warrant out for his arrest and neighbouring counties have been informed."

"So, what happens now?" Carla spoke for the three of them, trying her hardest to maintain a level head.

"We will resume the search for Miss Jefferies in the morning."

"In the morning?" Michelle stood up straight, her tears ceasing. "What do you mean, in the morning?" She raised her voice, becoming more hysterical with each sentence that flew past her lips. "You should be out looking for her now! Ray is dangerous, he could have done anything to her! He could be doing anything to her, taking her anywhere! She could be dead, or dying or-"

"We understand, Miss Connor, but there really is nothing more we can do for now."

"Well why not?" Michelle screamed. "There has to be someone available that can look? Surely this is an important case? A woman is missing for Christ sake! In the middle of winter! And there's a man out there somewhere that knows exactly where she is!"

"We understand that, Miss Connor, but there has been an incident in Greater Manchester that requires a significant number of our officers, particularly the ones trained to deal with cases such as Miss Jefferies'."

"Then send some undertrained officers to look for her! Anyone, I really don't care! You two are here now, you could be out doing something!"

"Miss Connor, I'm sure you'd want Miss Jefferies to receive the right care when-"

"What I want is for her to be here now!"

Carla caught her as she broke down, cradling her against her body and rocking her from side to side as she shushed her. The officers watched on with apologetic expressions.

"We promise that we will do all we can to bring Miss Jefferies home safely."

"Thank you." Carla nodded; her lips set in a thin line.

"We'll show ourselves out."

As the door swung closed behind them, Michelle's cries grew louder and more hopeless. Tyler stood still, shivering with rage. Carla felt powerless, trying her best to provide comfort, but knowing it wasn't enough.

"Okay, baby, it's okay." She soothed. "I'll phone Peter, get him to get the Streetcars lot out looking again. They've got mates in the trade that can cover the whole of Manchester if we need."

"They'll never find her…" Michelle wailed. She felt as though her grief was physically tearing her apart; ripping her open from the inside out.

"I'm going out there." Tyler stated, swooping into action and grabbing his coat from where he had discarded it across the back of a dining chair.

"No, Tyler, wait…" Carla called. "Where are you going to go?"

"I'm gonna start by asking round Ray's hotels. Someone must have seen her."

"The police will have done that already-"

"Well, maybe they didn't look hard enough!"

"Look, Tyler, I'm really not sure if it's a good idea you going out on your own. What would your mum say, hey?"

"I've got mates that will be out. And my boss and some of the guys I work with said they'd help look if she still isn't back by the time they close, which could be any minute now." His eyes looked wired, adrenaline pumping through his veins. "I just can't sit here doing nothing anymore!"

Carla opened her mouth to argue, before Michelle piped up.

"Just be careful, okay?"

Tyler nodded, urgently. "I will. I'll ring if there's any trouble."

"And if you find her-"

"You'll be the first to know."

The bright lights of central Manchester shone in the distance; a city of that size never sleeping. The air was freezing and the surrounding area dark. The lamps along the treelined street had long since been switched off after their midnight curfew. She held herself steady against a solid trunk, the bark rough against her palm as she gulped in lungful's of fresh air.

She couldn't stop for long. Her bare feet trod carelessly across the icy pavement; the wind whipping at her knotted hair as she broke into a run.

She didn't know where she was, or where she was going. All she knew was that she needed to get away. Adrenaline coursed through her; the only thing keeping her upright. She couldn't relax yet. Not until she was sure she was safe.

She jumped as the rumble of an engine rounded the corner at the end of the street; headlights blinding as they illuminated the area. She let out an involuntary whimper, terrified once more that her captor had returned.

She dropped down against the garden wall beside her, hoping that the driver wouldn't spot her. She placed a hand against her chest; her heart thudding rapidly beneath it. Her fingers twisted around the diamond pendant; a reminder of who was waiting for her back at home. She had to be strong. She had to survive, for her.

The car pulled into a driveway, the engine rumbling to a halt and the lights fading back to darkness. She waited, crouched against the damp bricks for a few more moments until she was sure everything was clear.

With a deep breath, she let go of the necklace and forced herself up, running blindly into the night.