The Sister(130)

Eileen averted her face from Miller’s gaze.

‘Eilise confided in you, didn’t she?’

She made eye contact for the first time since he’d walked into her house.

‘As I said, Eilise ran away because she found out she was adopted. She never got very far; it was a cry for help. Frank found her wandering the streets around midnight and brought her home. For a couple of months, everything seemed fine. We explained we'd be happy to help track her mother down if that was what she really wanted, but that she’d probably have to wait until she was eighteen before that could happen. I thought it was the upset of finding out, because you know, that unsettled her. Then I found out about the drugs, and she broke down and told me. Excuse me.’ She fled into the kitchen and returned a few moments later dabbing at her eyes with a piece of paper towel.

‘She told me Frank was trying it on with her, and getting quite heavy about it, too. In his head because she wasn’t blood, I suppose he thought she was fair game. That’s no excuse, of course. He told her if she didn’t, then he’d do it to our younger daughter. I was planning to help her get her out.’ She dabbed her eyes again. ‘I’m a mess. Please excuse me.’ She rushed out of the room again.

‘Who are you?’ Frank’s sudden appearance startled him.

Miller stood and introduced himself. ‘I’m here to help find your daughter. Your wife got a bit upset—’

Frank shook his hand warily. ‘I’m Frank,’ he said, eyeing the teacups. ‘You’ve been here a while then. Did I miss anything?’

Eileen returned. Frank looked at her suspiciously.

‘No,’ Miller said. ‘I was just running over a few facts to get some background about her runaway tendencies. Now, I understand you adopted her from the earliest age possible. Did she go through school okay, no problems?’

Frank rolled his eyes in exasperation. ‘We’ve been all through this ... ’

‘Not with me though, Frank.’

‘Were you expecting him?’ he asked Eileen.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I got a call to say he was on his way.’

Frank glared at her. ‘You never said—’

‘Can I see her room?’ Miller asked.

Frank turned his attention to him. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but your job is to find her, am I right? Not to judge or interfere in a family matter.’

‘That’s correct. Whatever problems or issues arise, they’ll be resolved with the close involvement of the authorities. Just to make my position clear – although I’m a private investigator – a senior police officer asked me to assist him and ultimately I’m accountable to him. However, you have my assurance I’ll be working on your behalf just as diligently as if you had employed me directly. I will find her.’

Frank moved as close to Eileen as he could, wrapping an arm around her stiff shoulders without looking at her. ‘That’s reassuring to hear, isn’t it, love?’

Miller shuffled his feet awkwardly. ‘Now, can I see her room?’





At the top of the stairs, off the landing, was a bathroom and toilet. Further down the corridor were four bedrooms. Two each side of the corridor. All the doors were closed. Eileen kept a nice clean house, upstairs it smelled of bleach and polish.

Frank led the way and opened the last door on the left. He stood with one hand wrapped round the door handle and indicated for Miller to go in with a nod of his head.

The brightly painted room was garish. Gothic art posters adorned the walls. For a girl’s room, it was a messy one. Eileen explained they'd left it exactly as it was the last time she’d been there. In one corner was a television, a dressing table in the other. There was also a sound system complete with headphones still plugged in.

‘Does she have a computer or laptop?’ Miller asked.

‘She used her phone for everything. Emails and texts. Didn’t she, love?’ Frank said.

‘Actually, she did use the computer next door in the study,’ Eileen added.

Frank shot an accusatory look at her. ‘You told the police she never used it!’

‘Well, she did, but only sometimes.’

‘Can I have a look?’ Miller backed out of her bedroom and moved into the study next door. If there was going to be anything, it would be on the computer. He’d check with Kennedy to see if they'd taken anything significant away from her room.

‘Excuse the mess,’ Eileen said. ‘The computer’s already on. We daren’t turn it off. There’s something wrong with the switch, so it’s on all the time.’

‘Who else uses the machine?’

‘We all do, but mostly for work or school work.’

Eileen logged in, explaining they had never set up individual user accounts.

‘May I?’ Miller gestured at the seat in front of the computer and sat before either of them could answer.

He looked at the desktop shortcuts. There were none for Facebook, Myspace or Bebo. Checking the programmes list on the start menu, he saw an unfamiliar red icon. He double clicked it.

It loaded into a social networking site revolving around common interests in music.

Hello, concreteblonde92.

‘I’m assuming “concrete blonde” isn’t either of you?’ Frank scowled at him. ‘And from the 92, I guess that’s Eilise’s birth year?’