Hi everyone, thank you for following
and thank you for your comments. x
Note, street locations in this chapter are
purely fictional and only exist in this
alternate universe.
Chapter 29
The Crucible
0330 – London, UK
Fine droplets of rain misted through the light from the streetlamps, beading the exterior of the police car parked beneath them. It took Elvis less than a few seconds to scale the front steps and commence pounding on the front door, completely ignoring the ringer. Etiquette was not foremost in his mind at the moment. He was about to raise his fist again when the door opened wide, and he found himself standing face to face with Debbie. She lifted her hands as if to deflect him.
"Elvis….."
"Don't mind if I do," he said stomping inside past her, fully aware there was a police presence in the house. Debbie slammed the door shut with a dramatic shove.
"That's right. Come on in and make yourself at home."
"Where's Laura Deb?" Elvis said swinging around to her.
She knew he was coming. Georgie had warned her and for that she was grateful. At least she would not have to contend with explaining an irate Elvis to the police.
"She ran away, but you already know that," she said.
Elvis clawed his wet hair back. "Why? Why would she do 'at?"
"Because of you," Reginald said walking into the foyer giving the rain damp intruder the once over.
"Me?!" Elvis said with a twisted laugh, turning to confront him.
Debbie stepped in between and said, "She was worried about you, and we hadn't heard anything from you…."
"So it's my fault is it?" Elvis said cutting her off.
"If you care to lay claim to it," Reginald said with a pompous, casual tone, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets.
"Humor was never one of your strong points so shut the fuck up!" Elvis said thrusting a pointed finger at Reginald.
Hands came back out of the pockets and now Reginald pointed an accusing finger of his own. "You do realize that you are in my home!?"
"Financed with your wife's bank account, yeah, I'm solidly aware," Elvis said defiantly lifting his chin, seeming even taller than he was. "Deb, I'm 'ere for intel on wha' the police know, that's it. I'm sorry it's late, but ya get the gist, eh?"
She swallowed hard. "There isn't much I'm afraid. They weren't really looking until the dropped call occurred."
"What dropped call?" Elvis said.
"She ran off. She wasn't taken," Reginald said. "Kids run off all the time when they don't get their own way."
"Reginald, please," Debbie said.
Elvis' face contorted. "How does being worried about her father now translate to not getting her own way? Huh? She tells ya she's worried and the two of ya let her just walk out the fuckin front door?" Elvis' voice was surprisingly calm but his hands were all over the place.
"Something like that," Reginald mumbled, shrugging indifferently.
Debbie could almost feel Elvis' ire and blocked the distance between the two men with her hands "No! That is not what happened!"
Elvis' face lit up. "OK, you talk to me Deb, cause I can't believe the fuckin bullshit 'at's comin out of his mouth!" he said with a snarl.
"Elvis! Please!" Debbie pleaded.
Reginald sardonically chuckled and walked back into the lounge. He knew the police overheard everything, and that is exactly what he had intended. Debbie looked up at Elvis. The fatigue of the day shadowed the corners of his eyes. Dark, wet hair splayed across his brow. Damp skin glistening and highlighting the cuts and bruises on his face. He was still as handsome and just an unpredictable. She moistened her lips slowly, considering what to say, feeling trapped by his questions.
"She was worried about you and the fact that you gave her your pocket knife. She thought you would be vulnerable without it."
"Fuck sake…" Elvis said with a frustrated, exhausted sigh.
"I tried to stop her. I tried to explain she needed to wait a little more, but she was not having any of it."
Elvis looked down at her. He could not make contact until now and can take nothing back. Any "what ifs" were meaningless now. Regrets would not help them find Laura. "I need to know everything that might be inside her head," he said.
"Come with me," Debbie said.
When they both walked into the lounge all attention focused on Elvis.
"Here's the menace," Reginald mumbled, but loud enough for everyone to hear. Debbie responded with a scathing look at her husband.
"This is the father?" the police officer said.
Before Reginald could open his mouth further Debbie said, "Yes Officer Pratt. This is Elvis Harte, Laura's father."
Elvis immediately moved forward for he and Pratt to engage in a handshake. "What can ya tell me officer?"
Pratt regarded him for a moment, the disheveled appearance and bloodstained clothing. He noticed Elvis' jacket was almost completely zipped closed and there was a concerning bulge near his left side. He gave Debbie a prolonged, doubtful look.
"No, go on. I told you we have joint custody," she said.
"You were with your daughter on the train," Pratt said changing direction with his own question.
"Yeah. I was bringing her back to London."
"Were you injured during the hijacking?" Pratt said, indicating the blood stains and marks on Elvis' face.
"Not specifically."
"Then when specifically? Because you were not with your daughter when the siege ended and you failed to make any contact until now."
Reginald was smug. Debbie rung her hands together.
"I'm afraid that information is classified Officer Pratt, and I ain't 'ere to answer your questions," Elvis said.
"Are you quite mad?!" Reginald said. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"
"Don't go there," Elvis said in a low rumble.
Pratt stood back. "I would ask that you unzip your jacket sir," he said resting a hand on his service revolver.
"Why? So you can see the Glock I have concealed there?"
Reginald's eyes bulged.
"Maybe this will clear things up for ya," Elvis said pulling his wallet out and flipping it open for Pratt to see his military ID. The officer read the credentials and tried to blink away his surprise.
"My apologies captain."
Reginald suddenly felt numb. He began to put two and two together. He knew Elvis was a soldier and involved in training at Hereford, but was privy to little else.
"The longer we wait, and she does not walk through 'at door, we jeopardize finding her. I won't accept 'at," Elvis said.
Debbie felt a renewed wave of nausea, she kept hearing Laura say, "I'm sorry" and Reginald taunting the child before she ran out the door.
"There is no evidence that your daughter was abducted," Pratt said.
"And no evidence that she was not, except that she's not 'ere," Elvis said.
"Mrs. Gwain had contact with her until the phone went dead. We were able to track her location for that time and personnel have been dispatched to investigate," Pratt said fidgeting with his notepad.
"Where?" Elvis said pulling a satellite phone from his jacket pocket.
"Kingsway," Pratt said.
"Now we're gettin somewhere," Elvis said lifting the phone to his ear. "Listen in, last known location Kingsway, at … When did the call drop?" he said to the group in the room.
"048 hours," Pratt answered.
"048 hours. I need one of ya out there ASAP to scour the area," Elvis said into the phone, to Debbie he said, "What was she wearin?"
"The same outfit she wore home from Hereford….."
Whilst Elvis relayed her description to his team the door bell rang. Reginald rushed out of the room to see who it was and returned shortly accompanied by a man dressed in a suit and tie who was carrying a large plastic envelope. Elvis immediately took notice.
"I gotta go," he said and ended his call.
"Mrs. Gwain, as I told your husband, I am Detective Walters.
"Detective," Debbie found herself saying but wondered why a detective was here.
Walters turned toward Elvis. "Who's this?"
"The father," Elvis said. "Elvis Harte. What's in the evidence bag?"
Debbie felt a cold chill run through her. Is that what the detective was holding?
By his expression, Walters was familiar with Elvis' name. "This is your daughter?" he said.
"Yeah. Have ya found something?"
Reginald's jaw clamped down. How does Walters know Elvis?
"Our patrolman found this notebook and papers scattered near the corner of Kingsway and Howell. Some are soaked, but others inside the notebook are intact and clearly the artwork of a child."
Debbie sucked in a quick breath. "Can I see?" she said reaching a hand out.
"You may look, but do not touch. I will set them out here."
Walters pulled each piece of evidence from the envelope and placed them on the nearby coffee table. Elvis recognized Laura's drawing of his house in Hereford. Debbie's eyes scanned each one. She made the connection as well. She looked at Elvis and began to tremble.
"They're Laura's," she was barely able to say.
Reginald moved next to her to see for himself. "How can you be certain?"
"Good question," Walters said. "Some of the writing does not appear to be in English."
"It's not," Elvis said. "It's Italian. Laura was writing to her Nonna about her weekend with me in Hereford."
"I'm waiting for feedback on CCTV surveillance," Walters said and stepped away to make a call.
"What's happened to my baby?" Debbie said hiccoughing twice before the tears came. She covered her face in her hands. "I can't believe this."
Elvis was stoic but empathetic to her pain. Laura was his daughter as well. His eyes slid to Reginald. Not even a hint of comfort from the son of a bitch he thought. He walked over to Debbie and pressed a hand on her shoulder. "We'll find her Deb. I promise."
Reginald came alive then. "Darling, come here," he said moving close and trying to pull her into his arms. She shuddered and pulled away.
"No. No don't touch me."
"Fine," Reginald said lifting his hands away defensively. "Whatever you want."
"What is taking the detective so long?" Debbie said wiping the tears from her cheeks.
"Patience my dear," Reginald said.
Never one to back down from a conflict, Elvis positioned himself in front of Reginald and said, "All things considered mate, why act concerned now?"
The two men were almost the same height. Elvis was a bit taller and Reginald moved his gaze upward in a slow, condescending manner. "Someone has to be," he said.
"That's not wha' I'd call it," Elvis said with a low rasping tone.
"No? What would you call it then? Please enlighten me."
"You're pretending." Elvis said.
"Pretending?"
"Yeah. You drove my kid out of 'ere and ain't a bit sorry about it."
Reginald sniffed, thumbed his nose and attempted to walk away, but Elvis side-stepped to block him.
"Prove me wrong Reg."
"Get out of my way!"
"Not happening."
"I will have you arrested!"
Elvis laughed. "For wha?"
"You have overextended your welcome," he said, trying again to move past. But Elvis side-stepped again, stiffening his posture, causing Reginald to brush into him. "Get the fuck out of my way!" he said to Elvis, balling his hand into a fist.
"Stop it!" Debbie yelled. "Don't be a fool Reginald. He'll have you flat on your arse before you can blink!"
Elvis grinned and said, "Priceless."
Reginald's nostrils flared as if he were a steaming kettle ready to blow. He backed away from Elvis and lit into Debbie. "It is your fault!"
"Mine?!" She sputtered.
"That's right! You let her do as she pleases. The cat! The boots! Her wretched friends! And you!!" he said twirling around to face Elvis, "Who gives their child a knife?!"
"Ahhhh," Elvis said, extending an arm out as if he was presenting Reginald to an audience.
"You could have been more supportive! You could have told her you understood and would try to help her! But noooo! You ridiculed her father instead!" Debbie said with a flourish of angry tears.
"Not true!" Reginald said with cheeks burning fire red.
Elvis was trained to resist reacting, but every fiber in his being wanted to lash out. "You're a piece of work, ya know 'at?" he said instead.
Reginald tried to swallow down the strangled feeling in his throat. Detective Walters hurried back into the room putting an end to their row.
"We picked up something on CCTV," he said.
"What?" Elvis said.
"Looked to be a man following a child on Howell Lane."
"Oh my God!" Debbie gasped.
Elvis pulled the satellite phone out. "We're on the move," he said to his team and with that was gone.
"Elvis!" Debbie cried out, pacing after him in vain. She spun around to look at Reginald and said, "I will never forgive you if anything happens to her."