The Girls Who Disappeared(55)

‘Weed?’

‘No. Harder than that. Crack cocaine.’

I’m surprised by this and wonder if that’s where he got all the money from. ‘Do you think he was a dealer?’

‘I really don’t know,’ says Dale, his eyes flickering to my phone. But I sense there’s something he’s not telling me.

‘Olivia said that the man who had been following her in the white van had a scar on his face. That doesn’t fit Ralph’s description.’

‘Ah, yes. The man with the scar.’ He sounds disparaging.

I raise an eyebrow. ‘You knew about it?’

‘Yes. It was in one of Olivia’s original statements.’

‘She said she kept seeing him, though. On more than one occasion.’

‘Yet the photos were found in Ralph’s caravan.’ He folds his arms across his chest. ‘And the man with the scar in the white van was never found. Or ever seen again.’

‘Do you think she imagined him or made him up?’

He sits up. ‘Look, I don’t know about that. She obviously believes that’s what she saw.’

‘But you don’t?’ I press.

A flicker of irritation passes across Dale’s face. ‘I didn’t say that. We had to run with what we had. And we had no evidence of this white van or a man with a scar. No other witnesses.’ He holds his hands up. ‘What more can I say?’ His expression softens. ‘Memories can be muddled, especially after a serious accident like Olivia experienced. And now, with these photos found in Ralph’s caravan … well …’ he sighs ‘… it shines a new light on things.’

Maybe he’s right. It’s strange that no one else ever saw him.

We talk a bit longer and I ask him more questions, but Olivia has already covered a lot of it. I stop recording and Dale finishes his coffee.

‘Sorry to go on about the man with the scar,’ I say. ‘Olivia was adamant about it when I spoke to her.’

‘She mentioned it to me in the car too, when I showed her the photos,’ he concedes. ‘But it makes no sense.’ He gets up and takes his mug to the sink, then stands with his back to the counter, his ankles crossed. He has another pair of funky animal socks on, black with pink flamingos. He sees me looking. ‘An old girlfriend bought them for me.’ He laughs. ‘They’re very comfy.’

‘They look it.’

He holds my gaze for a fraction too long, then says, ‘I’m sorry it wasn’t the best interview. There’s still a lot I can’t say. Things that cross over with –’

‘Another case. Yes, you’ve said. You’re just a big tease!’ My cheeks grow hot when I realize what I’ve said.

He lets out a throaty laugh. ‘I’m sorry, I know it’s frustrating. When I can say more I will.’

I’m tempted to push him but I need to keep Dale onside. We spend another ten minutes just talking about Stafferbury, his memories of the town before he left for university, and Tamzin.

‘Did you know Olivia that well?’ I ask, as we walk to the front door and he starts pulling on his coat. ‘No bullshit now. Not like last night.’

‘Hey, it wasn’t all bullshit. I really didn’t know Tamzin’s mates that well. Sometimes I’d go to the pub and Tamzin would be there – usually with Katie, Sally and Olivia. Occasionally we’d all sit together and play drinking games. Olivia was probably the quietest but Tamzin could be quite loud.’ He wraps his scarf around his neck and tugs at the ends. He pauses, his hand on the door knob. ‘I never thought I’d be here twenty years later still with no clue as to what happened to them.’

I smile in sympathy. I wonder if it’s shaped him, Tamzin’s disappearance. I can’t imagine my first love going missing. Although my first love was Gavin. And in some ways it feels like he is missing because he’s definitely not the person I fell in love with. I don’t know who he is any more.

‘It haunts me sometimes,’ he says, so quietly I can hardly hear him. ‘Wondering if she was in some kind of trouble. That maybe if I hadn’t gone to university she’d still be here.’

‘You can’t blame yourself, Dale. You were young too.’

‘Guilt. Regret. Uh.’ He shakes his head. ‘Why do we beat ourselves up?’

‘I know that feeling. Gavin leaves me and I’m the one wondering what I did wrong.’ Our eyes meet and there is a definite charge in the air between us. It makes me catch my breath. He opens his mouth to say something but seems to think better of it. ‘I …’ He clears his throat. ‘Well, I should go. Make sure my dad isn’t being led astray by Doris next door. She’s definitely got the hots for him.’

I laugh and our hands brush as I reach for the door handle and open it. A gust of wind blows in just as Dale is about to walk onto the step. And that’s when I see it.

‘Stop!’ I cry, grabbing his arm and pulling him back.

‘What? I don’t –’ And then he notices it too.

Laid out on the concrete step are three dead crows, their necks bent at odd angles as though someone had deliberately laid them there.

And I know there’s no mistaking it this time. It’s a warning.