Missing (The Cass Lehman Series Book 3) by Melanie Casey Read Free Book Online Page B

more than a few nervous butterflies I dialled Ed’s mobile. It went straight through to voicemail. It was eleven-thirty. I hung up. He never turned his phone off so that meant he was out of range. No point leaving him a message he wouldn’t get in time and I didn’t want him ringing back when I was with Crackers. I reached for another Tim Tam.

    At 12.05pm I was standing in the shade on the tiny piece of red concrete that passed as our front porch. A silver sedan pulled up out the front a minute later and the passenger window slowly descended.
    ‘Miss Lehman?’
    ‘DCI Arnott?’
    ‘That’s me, jump in.’

    I crossed the short distance and climbed into the passenger seat.
    ‘Thanks for agreeing to come out at such short notice.’
    ‘No problem.’
    I glanced at him then resorted to peripheral vision to complete my inspection. The guy was no oil painting. He had sparse hair artfully combed over the pate of his head in an attempt to disguise a large bald patch. The skin on his face was florid, and his gut only just fit behind the steering wheel. I got the impression he would have pushed the seat back further if only his arms had been that bit longer. Images of TV-show cops stopping for burgers and donuts flashed through my head. He looked like a poster boy for heart disease and hypertension. But wasn’t Japanese food really healthy? I couldn’t imagine this guy chowing down on raw fish and seaweed.
    ‘So what did you want to see me about?’ I said.
    ‘Let’s eat first. I always think better on a full stomach.’
    ‘OK.’
    We drove in silence for a minute or two. I didn’t know him well enough for the silence to feel comfortable, so I felt compelled to fill it.
    ‘What are Ed and Dave up to today?’
    ‘They’re down at Fairfield this afternoon. Did Ed tell you about the dump?’
    ‘He didn’t need to, I could smell it on him when he got home.’
    Arnott snorted. ‘Occupational hazard.’
    ‘One of many.’

    We lapsed into silence again. This time I refused to make small talk. Ten minutes later he pulled up a short distance from a Japanese restaurant down the far end of Gouger Street, one of Adelaide’s restaurant strips. It wasn’t somewhere I’d ever been with either Ed or Claire. This place was well off the main drag and way too far from the MCIB offices for it to be somewhere they frequented. From the front it looked quite unprepossessing, a narrow street frontage and what looked like a two-storey interior.
    ‘This is it.’
    We climbed out of the car. DCI Arnott led the way. He entered the restaurant and held the door open for me to follow him. I got about three steps inside the door when my heart began to race and my thoughts scrambled. Something was terribly wrong. Images of a phone box and a man wearing a hoodie jerked through my head. A knife glinted under a streetlight. I looked down, grabbing at my chest and stomach. My hands were covered in blood. I staggered forwards.
    ‘Help me!’ The words came out thin and reedy.
    ‘Oh, God. Please, someone!’ Blood was pooling under my feet and I slipped and fell forwards. I couldn’t hold the wound together. A soft mass fell into my hands, and I tried to push it back in. Blood dripped down my arms and I sank into a world of excruciating pain. Then, blackness.
    As the vision receded I realised I was gripping Arnott’s arm. I blinked a few times and shivered, trying to banish the panic and bring my heart rate back to something close to normal. I lookedup into Arnott’s face. He was watching me intently. He didn’t look surprised, or alarmed. He was looking at me like a scientist might look at a lab rat.
    ‘You bastard!’ I hissed. I snatched my hand from his arm and walked back out into the street.
    ‘Cassandra, wait!’ He hurried after me. I kept walking. I was so angry and so full of adrenaline, I needed to walk it off. He finally caught up to me as I stood waiting to cross Morphett Street.
    ‘I’m sorry. I had to know.’
    ‘You