Jay Is Gone E-Book

Ashley Cameron

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 492

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

Anyone who has read Gone Girl will love this crime novel. A young woman is beaten to death in the city park. Mia, a veterinarian, lives nearby. One day, her best friend from childhood days, the charming and successful Jay, disappears without a trace. She left a letter to her husband behind, asking him not to pursue her. Mia immediately suspects foul play when she realizes that Jay resembles the dead woman from the park. Where is Jay? Nobody seems to care, except for Mia. Their friends are acting strangely and seem to be hiding something. On her search for Jay, Mia starts to face a nightmare. She becomes entangled in a web of lies, intrigue, hatred and betrayal. Unbridled anger ignites, and nothing is as it seems... What are the friends hiding? A breathtaking psychological thriller about love, desire, envy and hate - and friendship which is no one at all.

Leseprobe

In 1993, Jay danced to the song "Nothing else matters."

Never cared for what they do

Never cared for what they know

Never cared for what they say

Never cared for games they play

Never opened myself this way

But I know

Trust I seek and I find in you

So close, no matter how far

Forever trusting who we are

And nothing else matters

„Nothing else matters“ / Metallica 1993

Several years ago, two young women were found murdered in Aachen, Germany. "JAY IS GONE?" tells the story of this cruel crime.

I dedicate JAY IS GONE to all women who are wounded and never found.

About the book

A young woman is beaten to death in the city park. Mia, a veterinarian, lives nearby. One day, her best friend from childhood days, the charming and successful Jay, disappears without a trace. She left a letter to her husband behind, asking him not to pursue her. Mia immediately suspects foul play when she realizes that Jay resembles the dead woman from the park.

Where is Jay? Nobody seems to care—except for Mia. Their friends are acting strangely and seem to be hiding something. On her search for Jay, Mia starts to face a nightmare. She becomes entangled in a web of lies, intrigue, hatred and betrayal. Unbridled anger ignites, and nothing is as it seems... What are the friends hiding?

Table of Contents

PART ONE: Never cared for what they say

Chapter 1: Wednesday, November 2nd, 2016

Chapter 2: Mia – Tuesday, November 8th, 2016

Chapter 3: Hugo – six days earlier

Chapter 4: Mia – Thursday, November 10th

Chapter 5: Doreen – Four days earlier

Chapter 6: Mia – Thursday, November 10th

Chapter 7: Leon – Two days later

Chapter 8: Mia – Friday, November 11th

Chapter 9: Thomas – four days earlier

Chapter 10: Mia – Saturday, November 12th

Chapter 11: Falk – Six days earlier

Chapter 12: Mia – Sunday, November 13th

Chapter 13: Laura – four days earlier

Chapter 14: Mia – Sunday, November 14th

Chapter 15: Wednesday, November 16th

Chapter 16: Mia – Wednesday, November 16th

Chapter 17: Thomas – the day before

Chapter 18: Mia – Thursday, November 17th

Chapter 19: Thomas – eleven days later

Chapter 20: Mia – Thursday, November 17th

Chapter 21: Mia – Friday, November 18th

Chapter 22: Hugo – Sunday, November 6th, 2016 – The day that Jay vanished

Chapter 23: Mia – Sunday, November 19th

Chapter 24: Laura – the day before

Chapter 25: Monday, November 20th – fourteen days later

Chapter 26: Mia – Tuesday, November 23rd

Chapter 27: Laura – two days before

Chapter 28: Thomas – Sunday, November 6th, 2016 The day Jay disappeared

Chapter 29: Mia – Wednesday, November 24th

Chapter 30: Laura – Thursday, November 25 – Nineteen days after

Chapter 31: Thomas – Thursday, November 25 – nineteens days after

Chapter 32: Mia – Friday, November 26th

Chapter 33: Leon – Nineteen days after

PART TWO

Aachen News: Saturday, November 26th, 2016

Chapter 34: Mia – Wednesday, November 30th

Chapter 35: Mia – Wednesday, November 30th

Chapter 36: Falk – Sunday, November 6, 2016 The day Jay vanished

Chapter 37: Mia – Thursday, December 1st

Chapter 38: Mia – Friday, December 2nd

Chapter 39: Mia – Sunday, December 4th

Chapter 40: Mia – Sunday, December 4th

Chapter 41: Mia – Monday, December 5th

Chapter 42: Falk – Monday, December 5th–Twenty-nine days after

Chapter 43: Mia – Monday, December 5th

Chapter 44: Falk – Monday, December 5th – Twenty-nine days after

Chapter 45: Mia – Monday, December 5th

Chapter 46: Falk – Monday, December 5th – twenty-nine days after

Chapter 47: Mia – Tuesday, December 6th

Chapter 48: Falk – Tuesday, December 6th – thirty days after

Chapter 49: Mia – Wednesday, December 7th, 2016 – thirty-one days after

Epilogue: Jays Diary

PART ONE

Never cared for what they say

Chapter 1

Wednesday, November 2nd, 2016

Even though she’d looked him directly in the eye, Silly couldn’t remember what he’d looked like after it happened. She knew he’d been wearing old hiking boots, but that was all. His age, skin color, hair, eyes, height or anything that could've even remotely described him had all been wiped from her memory.

She had passed him while cycling through the city park, along the path leading to the local swimming pool. It happened late on Tuesday night, just before midnight. She’d finished work at the “Cat Café” on Main Street for the evening and was heading home. When she first moved to Aachen from the nearby town of Düren nearly a year ago, she’d lived in an apartment outside the city center and was always very careful. She never rode her bike alone through the city or any of its many parks when it was dark, instead making sure that someone went with her. Sometimes she would even spend the night with a friend to avoid the dark route home. Nearly one year later, after nothing had happened and she had started to trust the locals, she now rode her bike wherever and whenever she wanted.

That night, she cycled past the monument in the big city park, slightly tipsy after enjoying the two glasses of wine that she always treated herself to after hours. She was pedaling along when a man suddenly caught her attention. He was just standing there, staring at her intently and not moving a muscle. She was used to having men stare at her and could often feel their eyes undressing her, be it at work in the café or when out and about. She normally just made fun of them or shrugged it off.

However, there was something in the eyes of this observer that made her feel nervous. She would go on to say that his aura didn’t seem quite right. One moment his eyes shone with indescribable love and then they suddenly switched to a look that she, after some consideration, would call pure madness or ice-cold hatred. She averted her gaze immediately to avoid paying him any attention. A taxi was waiting for a passenger nearby, and the restaurant on the corner was still open. If anything were to happen, there were people there who could help her.

It wasn’t long before she had pushed the man out of her mind and instead made space for happy thoughts; thoughts of John, the young American student who worked with her at the café and made her heart flutter. He’d offered to take her home, but she’d said no. Like her mother always said: never say yes too quickly. She needed to let him pursue her a little bit longer. She was a student who not only knew the rules of dating but was also able to implement the essential tactics to her advantage. With John on her mind and her feet on her pedals, which were pretty much turning by themselves, she made her way closer to the park exit.

The events that followed took place within a matter of minutes, but she was able to remember every single detail. Everything but his face, that is. Silly felt him grab her ponytail from behind, his hand tightening around her long, dark hair like an iron clamp. She turned to face him and saw that it was the man who had stared at her with that strange look of longing in front of the monument. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out.

After kicking her bike away, he started slapping her in the face, not holding back. He whispered words that she couldn’t understand. She thought about her teeth, her beautiful straight teeth that had never seen a brace and had no gaps whatsoever. She couldn’t remember the pain. Instead, she could clearly recall falling off her bike and onto the floor and thinking: “This is it”. Although she had read about rapes, murders and psychopaths who appeared out of nowhere and attacked innocent passers-by for no apparent reason, she’d always chosen to reject the thought that such things could actually happen in real life. And even then, lying helplessly on the floor, she asked herself if there was any way she could escape reality or at least turn back time an hour or so.

“Try to get up, my child,” she could hear her mother say.

But try as she might, he soon put a stop to it by kicking her right in the face with his mangy, old hiking boot. She could taste a mixture of dirt and blood. He was speaking to her again in a snake-like hiss, but she couldn’t understand him.

She tried to use her hands to protect herself, but his foot was quicker. She could hear the bones in her face as they broke, sounding like carrots or bamboo snapping in half.

“Scream, my child. If somebody attacks you, you have to make as much noise as you can.”

“Mom!” she tried to scream, but only a whisper came out.

Her voice sounded so raspy, so powerless. In an emergency, the best thing to do is to shout “Fire!” or “Help!”, she’d once read. The problem was that she was no longer able to form any words. And shouting out “Fire!” now would be ridiculous. So, she just kept on producing these bizarre sounds, which pushed their way out from somewhere deep within her.

“Mom, help me .... Mommy!”

He kicked her again. He then seemed to hesitate and said, “I’m sorry.”

Sorry?

He took a step back. Maybe he was coming to his senses. Silly peeked through her eyelashes and saw him leaning over her with an empty look in his eyes. She wondered if she should stand up, but then she heard his breathing getting faster and faster. His rage seemed to grow with each breath taken.

What did I ever do to you?

His foot made contact with her stomach and then he kicked her in the chest, in her stomach again and in her face, time and time again. She could no longer feel any pain. He muttered some words with each kick. Or was he singing? She didn’t know anymore.

“He’s going to knock you out, my child,” warned her mother, “He’s going to drag you into the dark bushes and rape you.”

He kept on kicking her. A strange fog started to engulf her, and she felt herself slipping into an abyss. For a moment, there was nothing. And then all she could feel was the dirty paving beneath her. No more sounds could escape from her mouth, nothing but thick, sticky blood. She raised her arm to call for help, but he kicked it straight back down and pulled her into the darkness like a rag doll.

In the bushes, he pushed himself up against her on the dirty ground and stroked her hair in an almost affectionate way. He sat up slightly, tilted his head and made his way down to her feet, speaking to her all the time.

He then suddenly stood up and kicked her one last time, singing as he did so. Silly was suddenly no longer sure if the singing monster really was a man. Maybe it was a woman wearing men’s clothes? The voice was annoying.

Dum di dum di doo ...

“If you survive this, you’ll never be the same again,” she heard her mother whisper.

The fog returned to claim her and took away her sight. Her life had faded away somewhere in this thick and damp veil. The trees stopped rustling, and the darkness rippled through her like a gentle, but deadly, breeze.

Chapter 2

Mia – Tuesday, November 8th, 2016

The darkness has settled in for the night around the lake. I can no longer see my hand in front of my face. It’s only now that I realize that I must have been jogging in the park for a good hour and a half. Bob patters behind me, my fluffy geriatric sheepdog with a scraggy mane reminiscent of my grandmother’s shabby old fur coat.

The wind blows hard against my face, making it difficult for me to breathe and freezing my face numb. I wish I’d thrown away Leon’s old jacket. It’s not keeping anything out. I keep on jogging nonetheless, with tears running down my cheeks. It’s easier to cry now that I can blame the wind.

Is Leon wondering where I’ve gotten to? Is he maybe even worried about me? I’m sure the twins are making the most of my absence and absolutely refusing to go to bed. Even though they can now read all by themselves, Esther and Benny always want me to read them a story every night before they go to bed. Tonight, however, Leon is the one who has to sit on the edge of the bunk bed and read the bedtime story. The kids are sure to whine at him the moment he uses the wrong voice. I’m also the one who they expect to tend to their scraped knees, kiss them better and use my special magic spell to make the monsters under the bed disappear.

I never would have thought that I would turn out to be a good mother, but it just so happens that I’m a natural. I’ve certainly had to work hard for everything else in life. And I’m not just saying that; that’s really how it’s been! I’ve achieved a lot and I can navigate my way through this storm too.

I stop to catch my breath and turn to look at Bob. He wags his tail and gives me a questioning look.

“Okay, Bob. We’ll just run seven short yards back to the car park, otherwise you’ll catch a cold.”

Seven short yards. That’s the trick I’ve always used to keep the kids moving when they get fed up on a long walk through the woods. Short yards. I shake my head in amusement and smile. There’s no such thing as a short or long yard.

Running is easier with the wind behind me. The light of the moon shimmers over me like a pale, ghostly veil. Gusts of wind send the autumn leaves swirling into pirouettes. I hear dead branches cracking and whispering: Run, Mia, run!

Suddenly, Bob stops short just a few feet before the car park, bares his teeth and lets out a menacing growl. I place my hand on his neck, where the hairs are standing on end. Somewhere in the distance, I hear an engine start. A cloud of dust rises into the air. I’m not the only one out and about this evening. When the car’s headlights briefly put me in the spotlight, my blood runs cold.

Just a few more steps and then I’ll be at my car. I look round. For a split second, I think I can see a shadow. I take another look. Nothing.

Why do I keep feeling like someone’s watching me? My damn mind can play all kinds of games, and it drives me mad. I speed up and head towards my black Renault Kangoo, which is standing alone, virtually invisible in the unlit car park.

In the summer, this place is packed with visitors. But as soon as the tourists head home, taking their garish flip-flops with them, the park is all mine again. This winter, however, everything feels different and so unknown. I open the trunk of my car. Bob jumps in, chases his tail and lies down on his checkered wool blanket.

Weren’t there steps behind me? I turn around in shock. I feel hot and cold at the same time, my mouth is dry, and there’s a knot in my throat so tight I can hardly breathe. But there’s nothing there. No psychopath with wide eyes, bloodshot with rage. No masturbating monster. I must be imagining things. A nervous giggle escapes from my mouth. It’s crazy how weird a laugh can sound in the dark of night.

Almost as crazy as the figments of my imagination!

I get into the car, put the key in the ignition and breathe deeply in and out. I can’t help but stare at the big lump of bird poo on my windscreen. My car really needs a wash. I sigh. If I were to sit here and make a list of all the things that I need to do, I’d still be here to watch the sunrise. The name Leon would be right at the top of this list. Leon and Mia. Just like it’s been ever since my miscarriage a year ago. I know it, and Leon knows it, even though he’d deny it if asked. I would have loved nothing more than to feel the constant sensation of a baby turning to and fro inside me and seeing it sucking its thumb on the ultrasound scan just one more time. It would have been so wonderful to tell our baby happy stories. I really wanted it. So, so much. There it is! The pain shoots through me; that constant underlying pain and confusion that can only be felt by a mother who has lost a baby.

My feelings for Leon were yet again being put to the test. Leon, the hardliner, the manager, the long-distance runner. The way he religiously completes his daily training perfectly mirrors how he runs away from our problems time and time again. We try so hard to pretend to the outside world that everything is fine.

It feels like Leon should be the one to say something. Definitely. But at the same time, his silence seems inconsolable; it’s a cocoon he’s been spinning around himself year after year. Just like always. It’s just how he is.

What do you think? Talk to me! Why do I always have to be the one to talk?

Whenever I say something like that, he normally just shrugs and walks away. Leon has always been quiet and reserved, and it bugs me more and more as the years go by. It sometimes even scares me. There’s something about him that I can’t make sense of.

Our house is a quiet place. I’ve got nothing left to say. And sometimes saying nothing says it all.

But tonight was the night: I was going to tell him once and for all that I can’t play this game any longer. So why was I so scared to have the talk? Is it because I don’t think I can live with or without him? Despite his 41 years, Leon sometimes seems like a small, bad-tempered child who I need to protect from the outside world.

Divorce. The word was already burned into my mind, even though I don’t dare say it out loud. I start laying out tiles on an imaginary Scrabble board. My first word: divorce. It makes me think of a marriage in a house full of ghosts: memories of friendship, love, comfort, happy times and, up until a year ago, a source of strength. Leon and I have been together ever since we were students, and since the twins were born, divorce has been an absolute no-go, in moral terms at least. Leon and Mia are two sensible people who would never do anything as crazy as get divorced; at least that’s what I tell myself over and over again. We will never subject our children to the trauma of a divorce battle.

The problem is that in my mind’s eye, I can always see exactly what would happen if we did: Leon, sitting alone in our messy house, surrounded by furniture that we purchased together. The wood on the table and chairs in the kitchen has faded over time. The fabric on the seats is covered in stains that simply can’t be budged. But we’ll never replace them. We just put up with the faded wood and the stained covers.

Tears run down my cheeks. Thinking of Leon sitting alone and abandoned on our old sofa makes my head spin. I stare into the darkness. Am I just imagining things, or do the storm clouds always start to gather the moment I consider divorce? I hear my blood pumping through my veins, and I shiver from the cold.

With my teeth chattering, I button up my jacket and turn the car heating up to full. The blue air-freshener tree that Jay decided to mark with her name swings wildly from my mirror. I grab my bag from the back seat and rummage around for my phone. I need to talk to somebody; a good chat will help clear my mind. After searching through the side pockets, I tip the contents of my bag out onto the passenger seat. For a moment, I just sit there and stare at the still-life of items: receipts, a shopping list, a stray kid’s glove, a lipstick that I’ve never used, a pen, a tube of Smarties and a pack of tissues. I see my phone lying in the middle. My display shows five missed calls from Leon. No! Not now! I press number 4, my shortcut for calling Jay.

Jay and I recently went away for our annual girls’ weekend. During the day, we went on long walks or visited the local winegrowers. We love wine tasting. Back in our hotel room, we chatted away long into the night, just like teenagers. That was when I told Jay about my marriage issues for the first time. With her, I can talk about everything that’s bothering me without any worries; I can let it all out.

“Shit happens, Mia,” was all that she would say. She then ran me a bath, lit some scented candles and balanced two glasses of Prosecco on the edge of the bathtub before undressing me like a small child. She joined me in the bath and laid with me in the rose-scented water, which was just the right temperature, until I’d cheered up. All of my sad thoughts disappeared immediately. Back when we were students, we always used to take a bath together whenever we were feeling down, be it due to our studies, the stresses of day-to-day life, or a boy. On those evenings, we laughed, drank and bitched about men and friends, just like we did last weekend. We didn’t get out of the bath until the water had gone cold and our skin was all wrinkly like prunes. Nothing could top the intimacy of sharing a bath. And that was precisely what made my friendship with Jay so special: an intimacy that was only for us, and nobody else.

I’ve never shared a bath with Leon. That said, we’ve certainly had our fair share of erotic fun in the shower. But there’s a world of difference between sex and intimacy based on a foundation of true friendship.

“Mia, you need to make a decision, and whatever you decide, things will turn out okay. Shit happens, but everything will be all right,” said Jay. The second word on my mental Scrabble board is decision.

“Dauntless” was a word that Jay had been using a lot recently. “That describes you perfectly, Mia. Brave and dauntless.” Words three and four for my solitary game of Scrabble.

Jay’s voicemail picks up and tears me away from my thoughts. I don’t leave a message because I fear she might misinterpret my gloom as depression.

I leave the engine on, take a quick glimpse in the mirror, put the pedal to the metal and drive off with my tires screeching and without looking back.

“Damn you, Leon!” I sob.

Leon is standing on the driveway waiting for me with a concerned look on his face. Above his bushy eyebrows, his forehead is creased, and his upper body is bent over as if awaiting the first punch. It’s cold outside, but he’s not wearing a jacket.

I park my car in front of the garage. Our eyes meet through the window. I return the silent greeting only visible in his blue eyes with a brief nod.

Suddenly, I feel a strong wave of exhaustion rush over me. Maybe having such an important discussion this evening was a bad idea after all. It can wait till tomorrow. Chances are that I would burst into floods of tears, and that’s the last thing I want. Whenever I cry around Leon, he goes all quiet.

Jay likes to make fun of me because ever since I’ve been with Leon, I’ve never embarked on an affair. In fact, I’ve never even kissed another man. My male colleagues have shown interest at my monthly meetups with the other local vets, but I prefer to keep things cordial, so they don’t get the wrong idea. Better safe than sorry. A slap on the back is much better than a fleeting touch with erotic undertones. Any sexual tension then soon disappears, leaving nothing but mutual appreciation. That’s how it’s always been.

I once discussed this with Jay over a glass of wine, on which she immediately choked. “Oh Mia! Appreciation? Don’t make me laugh!” she gasped. “A woman wants to be desired and applauded.”

Jay has already been through some nasty divorces, but I have no idea if or when it’s the right time for me to get one and how I could ever leave Leon. If you ask Jay, that’s one of my real weaknesses.

Leon is still standing in front of the car, not moving an inch. I get out and fumble for my car key in my coat pocket.

“It’s in the ignition,” he snaps.

Indeed it is, you bastard. I grab the key, close the door behind me and open the trunk. Bob leaps out and sprints to the front door. He suddenly stops as if he’s changed his mind and starts walking back to me.

A gust of wind tugs on my curls. I shiver with cold and exhaustion. Leon’s pale lips show me that he’s freezing too.

“Leon...”

“Mia, there’s something I need to tell you.”

My chest tightens, making it harder to breathe.

“Mia?”

He sounds nervous. I stare down at my white sneakers. “Please, please don’t start now. I’m not in the mood to be lectured. Let’s just go inside. I’m exhausted.”

All of sudden, I’m scared that he might say what I’m thinking. Maybe he’s decided that divorce is the best option for us.

“Have you heard already?” asks Leon.

“What?” I try to control my voice. “What is there to hear?”

Leon looks at me in a way that is both loving and concerned, as if he were looking at one of the children who had hurt themselves playing. “Jay is gone.”

Gone? My heart skips a beat. Raped? Kidnapped? Murdered? Absurd! “What do you mean, gone?”

“She’s disappeared. Hugo called.”

“But ...” My brain is struggling to make sense of it all. “Say that again?”

“Jay left Hugo a message and then seems to have turned her phone off.”

“What do you mean gone? Where has she gone?”

“Nobody knows. Jay has left Hugo,” he sighs, “and the kids.”

I’m absolutely horrified, but I cover it up with a smile. “That’s not possible. No way! Jay would never do that!”

“I’ve been trying to get hold of you this whole time. Where on Earth have you been, Mia? Why didn’t you pick up the phone?”

I stare at his chest, unable to avert my gaze from the stray hairs poking out. He could have at least done up his shirt and put on a scarf. Every single day I tell the kids to dress up warm because it’s cold outside, and now their father is standing there begging to catch pneumonia.

“I went for a jog in the park.”

“Uh huh. So, you were off jogging while we were all out of our minds with worry. Do you actually know how late it is?”

“Nope, no idea. I guess it’s pretty late.”

“Too late,” he said with a frown.

I try to analyze the situation. Jay has allegedly left her husband and not taken the kids with her? No way. Jay would never abandon Pixie and Nora, plus she’d never leave Hugo. The two of them have an enviably wonderful marriage and are happy. I would have noticed if Jay were planning to leave him. She’s my friend after all, and I’m sure she’d have told me the weekend after I poured out my heart to her. But, where on Earth did she go?

Maybe Jay tried to call me. I grab my phone and check my messages, but there’s nothing there but the calls from Leon. Maybe she switched off her phone because she was scared that she might falter and change her mind as soon as Hugo called. What kind of thoughts does a woman have when she plans to leave her husband and children? No! It’s unthinkable. Jay could never do such a thing.

Oh, the irony of fate! I narrow my eyes. Jay’s disappearing has knocked me of balance. There’s no way I can talk to Leon about our marriage issues this evening now. What could I even say under such circumstances? Leon, while we’re on the topic of divorce ...

Good job, Mia! I’m wimping out of it yet again. Coward! I realize that I’m still standing there on the garden path, laughing like an idiot while the wind streams into my face, as cold as ice.

“Do you maybe know where she is?” Leon asks suspiciously.

It takes me a few seconds to understand what he means. “No.”

“Mia, if you know something, you have to tell us. Hugo is worried sick. None of our friends can understand it either. Nobody gets what’s going on.”

My heart stops for a second. Jay is sure to call me sooner or later, right? It will all turn out to be a bad joke and nowhere nearly as terrible as it currently seems. I know my friend. Later, Jay will sit with me and our friends and tell us the story in her typical animated style. And as always, we’ll forgive her for yet another silly hoax.

“I have absolutely no idea where Jay is,” I reply, nonetheless. “I wish I did.”

“You spent the whole weekend together. Do you really expect me to believe that she didn’t mention her plans to you at all?”

“No, she really didn’t.”

Leon clenches his fists. “Let me guess. You promised Jay you’d keep your mouth shut.”

I freeze. Unbelievable! There it is again, this nasty tone that he uses whenever Jay comes up, as if he hates her. “You don’t believe me? Oh, come on, Leon. I know it sounds weird that Jay didn’t tell me what she was planning. But she really didn’t say a word.”

“Yes, very weird indeed.” he says, shooting me a look full of distrust.

We stand there for a while, expressing our annoyance in a deafening silence. Leon is a man who is always calculating and deliberating things. A situation like this is too much for him.

“It’s cold,” I say, finally. I can see my breath forming pale clouds of mist against the darkness. “Let’s go indoors.”

He turns on his heel and crosses the lawn to get to the front door. I do the same. For me, the feeling of missing an opportunity is almost as unbearable as Jay’s sudden disappearance. I feel damaged, isolated, and powerless. My life will never be the same again.

“Are the kids already asleep?” I ask in a wobbly voice.

“Yes!” he answers, without turning around. “They’ve slept through it all.”

“Thank God for that!”

Although it’s pitch black, Leon slides the key into the keyhole without any fumbling and opens the door. Bob trots in behind him. I quietly close the door behind me and lock it from the inside.

A sudden sound catches my attention. Quiet breathing? It’s coming from the kitchen. Leon is upstairs. Somebody else must be in the house. I hear the door to the terrace shut.

I look out the kitchen window into the garden. Nothing. Just bushes. Trees. And a yellow moth. The lights of an airplane flash against the dark night sky. Maybe it was just the wind.

Chapter 3

Hugo – six days earlier

The girls were getting more and more impatient. Although they were hungry, they kept running to the kitchen window to see if they could spot their mother’s car. “Where’s Mommy?” they asked, repeating the same question over and over again.

“Mommy will be home soon,” he answered, starting to get annoyed.

Mommy was yet again thinking of no-one but herself. In fact, Mommy couldn’t even be bothered to call her family to let them know that she’d be home later than planned. Mommy had left Daddy to deal with dinner, which is why Daddy was considering throwing said dinner right in her face when she walked through the door. She would probably burst out laughing, which would set him off too. And that was precisely the problem with his wife. As hard as he tried, he simply could not be angry with Jay.

He’d reserved the tennis court for 8:30 that evening. When he looked at the clock on the oven in which the fish was cooking, he knew that it was too late; he’d have to cancel his tennis match with Leon. He couldn’t wait for Jay any longer. He’d have to eat dinner with the girls. Over the past few days, he hadn’t managed to stick to their bedtime even once because Jay had started coming home late all the time.

He cleared his throat and dialed Leon’s mobile number. If he’d have called their landline, Mia would’ve probably picked up, and he wasn’t keen on that. He wanted Jay to know what he thought about her constant lateness, but he didn’t need Mia to be the messenger. Those two were as thick as thieves and told each other everything. Jay was convinced that she must’ve known Mia in a past life.

“What were you when you first met then?” he used to ask, teasing his wife. “Servants, gravediggers, kitchen helps or haggard mothers trying to fill the hungry mouths of your undernourished children?”

He knew Jay’s response. They were allegedly two noble, wealthy women who, as far as their corsets allowed it, relaxed on their chaises longues and gossiped about the latest affairs and developments in the elite circles. How on Earth should he respond to that? Only women have such ridiculous thoughts. There’s no such thing as a past life. Jay and Mia even recently visited a guru to use hypnosis to revisit these apparent times gone by. When trying to justify the extortionate price of the session, Jay claimed that friends need to know what’s connected them for centuries. But at the end of the day, the undeniable thing was the nature of science. Game over. No friendship during the French Revolution.

Hugo mashed the boiled potatoes with one hand while holding the phone to his ear with the other. “Hi, it’s Hugo.”

“Hey,” said Leon on the other end of the line. “How long are you going to be?”

Hugo explained the situation to his friend and ended the conversation shortly afterwards. Then he took the fish out of the oven. “Okay, my little monkeys! Time to come to the table!”

Pixie stared at her mother’s plate. “But what about Mommy?”

“Don’t worry about Mommy. We’ll start without her.”

The girls sat down. They didn’t touch the fish and only reluctantly tried the mashed potatoes. Irritated, he watched the children : if they were going to be like this, he could have just warmed up a can of dog food for them. “I'm getting really fed up with this, girls. Just eat your fucking food for once!”

Pixie looked up in shock. Of course, he knew what she wanted to say. You’re not allowed to swear. But when she realized how angry he was, she decided to stay quiet. She quickly took a bite and chewed on her fish.

Hugo started to feel guilty. He’d been losing his temper and snapping at the girls more and more recently. He could already imagine what they would be like as adults: dressed in black, full of piercings and hitch-hiking their way through Asia. They’d have friends called Thor and Severus and would spend their time reading tarot cards with them or converting to some weird religion and not wanting anything more to do with their old Dad.

Pixie squeezed the ketchup bottle and far too much came out at once. Hugo said nothing and looked at Nora. If six-year-old Pixie was going to have mashed potatoes with ketchup, there was no doubt about it that three-year-old Nora would follow suit.

As expected, Nora grabbed the bottle and happily squirted the ketchup all over the table.

Hugo sighed. “On your plate, Nora, not next to it.”

Nora beamed at him as if he had paid her the most wonderful compliment. And so, the chaos began. The plates were pushed back and forth across the table and to top it off, Pixie dipped her finger in the puddle of ketchup and drew a face on the tablecloth. Nora squealed with laughter, and even Hugo couldn’t help but grin.

“My little princess,” he said.

“My little princess,” said Pixie, imitating him. She tilted her head slightly and raised her eyebrows and as she did so, her right cheek revealed a tiny dimple, just like Jay had when she was happy.

Where was Jay? He tried to call her mobile one more time, but only got through to voicemail. Pixie stared at the phone as if she could make her mother pick up with just the power of her gaze.

Jay had promised to come home straight after work but had recently started losing track of time the moment she got to her drawing board. But why was she ignoring his call--today of all days? It was his sports evening, and she knew it. He always made sure she could make it to her evenings out. It wasn’t that difficult, was it?

Pixie stared at him and then shifted her look to his untouched plate. He quickly took a bite. The fish was too dry, and the mashed potatoes were watery and lacking flavor.

“Can you pass me the ketchup please, Pixie?” A mistake. The gloopy red sauce squirted all over his shirt sleeve.

“Oh, Daddy!” Pixie held her hand up to her mouth.

“Oh, Daddy!” exclaimed Nora, copying her sister.

“Yes, I know. Daddy’s acting a bit weird this evening.”

Nora giggled.

“Can we watch TV now?” asked Pixie, sliding off her chair before he could even answer. Nora followed her sister, who was already running to the sofa armed with the remote. The noise rang out through the lounge. Pixie was too old for the Teletubbies, but as soon as she started watching the DVD with her sister, it was like he had two toddlers in the house.

“Eh-oh!” squeaked Nora excitedly.

“Pixie! Ten more minutes and then it’s time for bed.”

“Okay Daddy!” she answered happily, sticking her thumb in her mouth.

Thumb-sucking was another thing he had tried to put a stop to, but Jay had made no effort whatsoever to support him. She said that she used to suck her thumb too and her teeth were still perfectly presentable.

Hugo stirred the ketchup into the mashed potatoes with his fork and prodded the cold fish. Why was Jay convinced that ketchup was healthy and could help prevent cancer? He couldn’t stand the stuff.

He’d been up and about since 6am, when Pixie started belting out Christmas carols in her bed. After bringing Nora to daycare and Pixie to school, he finally wanted to get to work. He’d been working from home ever since Pixie was born. At first, he thought it would make sense as a temporary solution, but it turned out to be a bit too convenient. He’d now been working from home for six years. Jay thought it was a great idea. She said he’d always be there to take the kids to daycare or school, to pick them up and to do the laundry, go food shopping, accept the packages from the pretty mail lady or let the plumber in during the day. But dealing with all of these small tasks took up all of his time and energy. His one-man software company was small and profitable, but he was too busy to sit back and make the most of the success. He didn’t get around to doing any programming today either. Time flew by too fast. His entertainment for today had comprised of picking up Pixie and Nora and then having a baking session with them. And wasn’t that a success? Great job, Hugo. The cookies had burned, but when Nora giggled, she looked so cute that he had to force them down so that his sweet little girl wouldn’t be sad.

Pixie had drawn a picture of the disaster: a work of art featuring Daddy, Nora, Pixie and the burnt cookies so that her mother could see what had happened. Where the hell was Jay?

Hugo pushed his plate aside. He tried to concentrate on reading the daily paper but failed. The girls had gone to bed too late yet again because after TV, he had read them one more chapter of their bedtime story than usual – all because of his guilty conscience.

The front door opened and closed. He looked at the stained tablecloth, the plates covered in ketchup, the pot of mashed potatoes and the failed fish dinner. The room was still filled with the sound of the Teletubbies.

“Well, that looks educational.” Jay came up behind him, pushed her cheek against his and gave him a hug.

Hugo didn’t respond and instead fiddled around wildly with the remote control until the TV finally switched off. Jay casually threw her things over the chair, sat opposite him at the table and tried to grab his hand, but he pulled it away.

“Oh, come on, Hugo. I’m sorry I’m so late but I didn’t have a choice. Honestly.”

He said nothing.

“We had to present a first draft. I wanted to call but I had so much to do. Harold turned up at my desk with it just when I was nearly done for the day. It pissed me off, too.”

Jay was a senior designer at an agency that created industrial packaging. She’d started the job three years ago. Harold, her boss, expected her to put everything into her work, which she continued to do right up to the present day.

“Save me the details,” Hugo snapped. “It’s Thursday today. My sports evening, the one you said you’d never forget again. Don’t you remember promising last week? ‘Honestly, Hugo, I swear on my dead grandma’s life: from now on, I’ll always be home on time, okay?’” He hated it when he imitated Jay.

She blushed. Why did she have to be so fucking beautiful when her cheeks went red and her face took on that youthful radiance?

“Oh crap! I’m sorry, Hugo. I’m such an idiot. I...”

“Don’t bother. We’ve had this discussion too many times already.”

“You could still make it to tennis now.”

“I already told Leon I can’t come. And someone else has the court now anyway. Dammit, Jay!”

She leaned forward and sniffed the plate in the middle of the table. “Hmm, your fish smells really good.”

“My cold fish,” he snarled.

Undeterred by the annoyance in his voice, Jay stuck her finger in the mashed potatoes. “Mmm… Mash! Yummy – I haven’t had that for ages!”

“That’s cold too.”

She took a scoop and put it on her plate before wolfing it down in no time at all. “Wonderful,” she said with her mouth full, “Really tasty. Almost the best meal I’ve ever had.”

She grinned and helped herself to another scoop. “It tastes sooo good. Like heaven on a plate.”

He tried as hard as he could to stay angry.

“Admit it,” said Jay in a cheery mood. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time. Next thing you know you’ll have the Michelin Guide knocking at your door.”

She’s done it, he thought. She’d wrapped him right around her little finger yet again. He couldn’t help but smile.

Jay pushed her chair aside, moved over to him, sat on his lap and gave him her best seductive look. She brushed her thick chestnut-brown hair out of her face and kissed him with her potato-covered lips. As her tongue slid into his mouth, Hugo pushed Jay away.

“Where were you?”

“Hugo, I told you already!”

He looked her up and down. A muscle under her left eye twitched slightly. Not a dimple. He started to feel suspicious. “I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?”

“I don’t know what to think.”

“Oh, that’s sexy. You’re jealous! Who’d have thought I’d experience that at my age!”

She laid her head on his shoulder and kissed his neck. “And you? What did you get up to today? Did the pretty mail lady ring the doorbell again? The one who goes commando under her sexy uniform?” She pushed herself up against him, and he felt her tongue caressing the back of his neck. He wanted to tell her to get her hand out of his pants, but he didn’t. It had been a long day, and he’d missed out on his sport. He deserved a bit of relaxation. There were plenty of good reasons for him to give up and give in. He laid down on the couch in the lounge, and she ripped off his clothes.

He then closed his eyes and let Jay have her wicked way with him.

Chapter 4

Mia – Thursday, November 10th

Rover, Karla Hermann’s geriatric boxer, is lying peacefully on the treatment table and letting me examine him. It’s not the dogs that are giving me a headache today. Animals have good instincts and understand when they need to be calm or attract attention. The pain pulsing through my brain is caused by Karla, who is doing everything in her power to ensure that my day ends with a good dose of paracetamol on my bedside table. Karla, who lives next door to our friend Thomas, is talking at me non-stop. She’s waffling on about all the problems Rover is experiencing in his old age. Rover is too stiff, Rover drinks too much, Rover is getting ill. After all, he recently chased the neighbor’s cat right out of the front yard, and that’s completely out of character.

“What will I do without you, my darling Rover?” Karla asks the same dramatic question she always does at the end of every visit to my veterinary practice.

Rover drools without a care in the world, and I give him a good scratch behind the ears. “The fact that he has enough energy to show the cat who’s boss is a good sign.”

I start to wonder who really needs the therapy. Rover isn’t ill. His only problem is his age. But I decide to keep that to myself. As I learnt during my studies, dogs communicate clearly and predictably. A single look into Rover’s eyes confirms this theory. He’s drooling in anticipation of the Pedigree biscuits that he gets after each examination.

“That doesn’t really put my mind at rest,” says Karla with a sigh. “I recently read about another attack on a young woman in the paper. Have you heard anything more about Jay?” she asks in the same breath.

The news of Jay’s disappearance had spread through the neighborhood like wildfire over the past three days. “I haven’t heard anything, no.”

Karla shakes her head in dismay. “What’s going to happen to the girls? They’re so sweet. I mean, what kind of mother would do such a thing? Just abandon her kids like that without thinking twice!”

Silence rings out through the room.

“From one day to the next,” she continues, sighing again. “I’m sure she had her reasons. But I for one thought they were happily married.”

My career also involves me spending a lot of time standing in my practice and listening to my patients’ owners. With dogs, I can use commands like Sit! or Quiet!, but it’s more complicated with people like Karla Hermann. Shut the hell up! would have been the ideal command to use with her right now.

Jay has no trouble stating the unpleasant truth in a charming way that doesn’t offend the person it’s aimed at. Her smile makes her words seem less harsh, and her eyes sparkle like she only has positive things to say, even though she’s actually tearing the person apart. She would have even more fun with them if she’d had a lot to drink.

I take a dog biscuit out of the jar on my desk and let the boxer eat it out of my hand. “His urine test was fine. Rover doesn’t have diabetes. He’s a tough cookie.”

Karla grabs the lead. “Do you think we should check up on Hugo? He’s all alone with those two little girls. It’s just not fair.”

“Hugo will be fine, Karla.” On the surface, I’m the epitome of calm but inside, my blood is boiling.

“Come on Rover, let’s go,” says Karla, clearly annoyed. “Bye Mia! See you again soon!”

I shake hands with Karla, walk her out to the front of the practice and close the door behind her. Finally, some peace and quiet. No Karla and no patients. The waiting room is empty.

I close my eyes for a second.

Happily married ...

Jay is happily married, I’m sure of it. My marriage, on the other hand, is anything but happy, and this suddenly makes me feel guilty. I want Leon. I still want him. Maybe more than ever. It’s been so long. I miss him physically. I wish I could tempt him to come over so I could rip off his shirt and we could have sex. We could then sit and enjoy a cold pizza with big smiles on our faces. Innocent smiles. Pure bliss. But no, things have never been like that between us. And that should have been a warning.

My working week was coming to an end, and there was still no sign of Jay. Maybe Hugo has heard something by now? I can’t just act like nothing has happened. As soon as I wake up in the morning, I get that horrible feeling that something terrible has taken place. My emotions threaten to engulf me, and I close my eyes and wish for a miracle. Just like I used to. When I was a child, fairies were my best friends, and miracles were an everyday occurrence. I taught my daughter Esther everything she needs to know about fairies, maybe because I still feel connected to that world, a world that was just as real to me as life itself. I long to see my friend again, to sit down with her for a good chat. Where are you, Jay?

I decide to close the practice for the afternoon, even though the raindrops are leaving wild patterns on the windows outside. To me, Jay’s disappearance feels like an emergency. I call the colleague who normally fills in for me and leave a message on his voicemail. A few minutes later, there’s a piece of paper with his telephone number stuck to the practice door.

Bob looks at me expectantly.

I take a deep breath and let it back out. “Yes, Bob. We’re heading out.”

My dog leaps out of his basket and wags his tail excitedly.

Outside, the November rain is now drizzling down like a curtain. It’s going to be a cold, windy autumn afternoon. The trees across the road have already lost their leaves, and their branches are bending in the wind. I zip up my jacket as far as it goes. Bob has already found a suitable lamppost to mark his territory. Esther and Benny are at school, and Leon will pick them up later. That means I have a bit of time to gather my thoughts.

After a sleepless night, Leon left the house this morning with dark bags under his eyes, driving to the office where he works as a tax adviser for a major auditing company. We barely said a thing over breakfast. He had a cold look in his eyes, so cold that my mouth felt frozen shut. We were separated by both the breadth of the table and a toxic sarcasm that made me shudder. Neither of us has been brave enough to tell the twins that Pixie and Nora’s mother might be living somewhere else now. If that’s even true.

My schedule is jam-packed, every minute of every day: with my job, my kids, and my house. I normally would have been delighted to finally have a couple of hours to myself. But since Tuesday, there’s been no such thing as normal anymore. Spare time now means more time to speculate. I need to try to put myself in Jay’s shoes. Maybe that way I can find out where she is. Normal, the fifth word on my mental Scrabble board.

Tomorrow evening we’re meeting up with our friends down by the bar, just like every Friday. We’ve been regulars at the Apple Tree for as long as I can remember. This will be our first chance to work together to track down Jay. My phone vibrates, and I nervously rummage around in my bag to find it. Jay? Or Hugo? Nope, it’s my friend Doreen.

“Shall we meet up this evening to talk about Jay? Can you make it?” There’s an unpleasant tone to her voice.

“I don’t think I can sort out a babysitter that quickly, Doreen.”

“Then come to my house. Bring the kids with you. They can sleep in my bed.”

A practical idea, like always.

“Esther and Benny don’t know anything,” I say, emphasizing the anything. A pretty pathetic excuse.

“For goodness sake, Mia, the kids have known what’s going on for ages.” And she’s probably right, as I’ve called on her to babysit on several occasions since Jay’s disappearance. She knows the twins well, but this authoritative tone that she often likes to use, especially right now, really annoys me.

“And the others?” I ask.

“I’ll let them know. You can tell Hugo. See you later!” Doreen hangs up. Dammit! Why didn’t I just say I don’t feel up to it? There’s something about the idea that makes me feel queasy.

Bob trots alongside me. I might as well try to call Jay again. I stop and take a deep breath. The line crackles. Voicemail again.

Bob growls.

“Okay, boss, I’m coming!”

I call Jay’s landline and listen to the voicemail message on the other end. It’s Jay’s cheerful voice with her kids in the background.

“You’ve reached the mailbox of ... come on girls, say something! Mommy and Daddy ... no, you have to say your name!” Pixie giggles. “You’ve reached Jay, Hugo, Pixie and Nora,” says Jay. Nora and Pixie chatter away at the same time. “Please leave a message after the ...”, says Pixie, before all of them let out a loud: “Beep!”

A car drives past, and the driver honks their horn. Idiot! I start to speed up, and my pulse gets faster too. I’m losing control of my thoughts and feelings.

Suddenly, I have a moment of clarity and all at once I’m certain. Jay hasn’t abandoned her family. Of course, she hasn’t. How could I have thought so for even a split second? If she’d have been thinking about leaving Hugo and the kids, she would have told me well before she packed her suitcase. Did she even take anything with her? Has Hugo reported her as a missing person? If not, he needs to get in touch with the police right away. We must find Jay before it’s too late. Maybe somebody kidnapped her, and she’s lying alone, raped and murdered in the woods next to the highway.

I start to panic. Beads of sweat form on my forehead. I’m shaking all over and struggling to breathe. I call Leon and blurt out something about Jay being dead.

“Mia! Calm down! We’ll talk about it this evening, okay? I can’t talk right now; I have a meeting.”

“We can’t wait any longer, Leon,” I reply in an agitated voice.

“What do you plan to do? You’re driving yourself mad!” He sounds tired, like every word is a huge effort to say. “Just calm down! Your panicking isn’t going to help Hugo one bit! You’re just making things worse. I’ll see you at Doreen’s. I have to go now.”

I stare at my phone in absolute confusion. I can’t believe he said that.

Bob trots ahead, wagging his tail as if urging me to continue. Panicking. Rage starts to simmer inside me. “Jay is gone. Don’t you get it, Bob?!”

But there’s something else that’s been troubling me since Jay disappeared. Every time I hear footsteps, my heart starts to race. Every time I hear high heels clicking, my hands start to sweat. I feel like danger is drawing in and I can’t shake the thought.

It’s now raining even harder. I can’t stand the idea of yet another day of waiting. I need to do something, but I can’t go to the police behind Hugo’s back. I try to call him again. Voicemail, of course. I sigh and look at Bob. “Okay, buddy, you win.” I cross the road. “But not too far, okay?”

I walk down the street. The wind whistles through the trees, causing their leaves to rustle in what sounds like an urgent whisper, warning me to watch out. I know there’s such a thing as demons. In my work as a vet, I’ve seen monsters subject animals to all kinds of horrific suffering. The rage boils inside me like hot lava. I’m suddenly sure of it. There’s something out there, and it’s trying to scare me; it wants me to be afraid. Something that’s keeping me awake like the screeching of an owl. I can twist it and turn it as much as I want, but one thing’s for sure: it wants to frighten me.

Chapter 5

Doreen – Four days earlier