Chapter Text
"God, it's chilly out tonight," Ellie shivered as she tugged her puffy reflective jacket tighter around herself and stuffed her hands under her armpits. She side-eyed her colleague. "How are you not freezing? All you've got is that skinny coat on."
Returning her side-eye with an exasperated glance, Alec said nothing and made no attempt to warm his hands or turn his collar up against the wind, probably to spite her. His hands had to be freezing, Miller thought. Stubborn git.
Together, they were standing in front of a tall chain-link fence's gate to a local shipyard, which was locked from the outside with a hefty padlock and chain. A security guard should have met them here to grant them access at half ten, but it was past eleven now and there was still no sign of the bastard.
Alec let out a quiet sigh and glanced down to the end of the road again, expecting to see headlights in the distance, but there were none. He frowned and set his jaw.
"So, this is the last known location of Archie Patterson," Ellie decided to fill in the silence, if only to spite her boss. Alec glanced over. "Before he died."
Reluctantly, Alec relented.
"CCTV footage on the night before his disappearance," Alec's Scottish brogue was soft, measured. He was going over the facts, "shows Archie entering these gates just after one in the morning on Wednesday, April 10th. By the afternoon, his parents report him missing, and by Thursday his body is found in the woods behind his school. The groundskeeper found him," Alec muttered, squinting in the darkness. "He called 999."
Ellie shifted her weight uncomfortably.
"Gosh, what an awful way to lose a child," she winced sympathetically. "Two days, and before you know it they're gone forever. And his parents didn't suspect anything? No bad behaviour? Nothing out of the ordinary?"
"Nothing," Alec confirmed. "Just a normal teenager."
"Unbelievable," Miller sighed and crossed her arms. It was her turn to check down the dimly lit roadway.
A moment of silence passed between them, the pavement slick beneath their feet after a day's heavy rain, which had mercifully stopped before their arrival here tonight. Crickets chirped in the bushes nearby.
"D'you think you'd know?" Alec asked, looking over with a worried glance. "If Tom had started using?"
"Oh, don't start," Ellie eyed him. "I don't know the answer to that and it terrifies me."
"Yeah. Me, too." Alec said, bowing his head and scuffing the ground with his shoe. He frowned. "Why do they do it, Miller? What do they need heroin for at sixteen?"
"I couldn't tell you," Ellie shook her head. "That bit isn't for us to figure out. We get it off the streets, that's our bit."
"Yeah."
"So, you think Archie got the drugs here?" Ellie asked, peaking through the chain-link into the dimly lit shipyard. "A drug den hidden nearby? A dealing rendez-vous?"
"Or a drop-off spot," Alec ventured, craning his neck to check further down the road. Still nothing. "Leave the stuff somewhere discreet, provide a detailed description of where you've hidden it to the kid who's buying. That way, the seller can't get caught."
Ellie raised her eyebrows at him in surprise.
"You know a lot about sneaking around, don't you?" Ellie teased. "Full of secrets, you are. Mind of a criminal."
Alec glanced over with a deadpan expression.
"It's my job," he grumbled.
"Yeah, I know," Ellie grinned. She really did love annoying him. "Still creepy though, us having to think like them all the time."
"Yeah."
The sound of approaching footsteps got their attention and they both turned to look down the road. Two men in uniform had arrived.
"Sorry I'm late," the security guard smiled sheepishly as he bustled over to the padlock. "It was my turn to do the washing up after dinner and me and the missus got talking after the kids were in bed, you know how it is."
"Sure," Alec mumbled in the general direction of the security guard as the man unfastened the lock and began to unravel the chain.
"We appreciate that you could make it out at such short notice," Ellie smiled.
"Oh, it's alright," the guard tugged on the chain and pushed the door open. "Part of the job."
Alec turned to the other officer who had joined them.
"You're to stay here and not let anyone in or out." Alec ordered. "You see anything, you let us know."
"Yes, sir."
"Thanks, Andrew," Ellie waved goodbye to the officer. "Keep warm, it's a bit chilly out tonight."
"Aye, ma'am."
Torches held high against nightfall, both she and Hardy entered the shipyard and began illuminating the boats and fishing equipment with bold streaks of yellowish light. They passed between two large fishing boats set on wooden rails for repair, their hulls half covered with plastic tarps.
Alec lifted up one of the tarps and prodded underneath with his torch, finding nothing to be amiss other than a particularly derogatory name for a ship painted boldly on its flank; the Filthy Oar. He grimaced and dropped his hold on the tarp, returning to Ellie's side up ahead.
"The thing is," Alec said, gravel crunching under his feet, "when young people get themselves into trouble like this, wrapped up in drugs and alcohol, they leave home and then you lose sight of them altogether. You'd think they'd ask for help, or at least stay home where it's safe, even if they do have to be secretive and sneak around their parents for a bit. I just wish they wouldn't run off, Miller. They'd be so much safer." He sighed with the weight of a worried parent. "At least they wouldn't end up dead in the woods like Archie Patterson."
"I suppose they'd rather run off than risk being caught with drugs," Ellie said. "For lots of people, it's the shame of being caught that does the most damage."
"Well," Alec argued impatiently. "Talk about it. With someone, at least."
"But that's what I mean," Ellie peeked behind a coil of rope, "it's difficult to talk about something like that, especially with your parents. Could you tell your parents if you'd gotten yourself mixed up with heroin?"
"No," Alec scoffed with a frown. "God, no."
"Exactly," Ellie pointed out, eyeing him with a 'gotcha' look that made him look away. "It's hard to talk about addiction with anyone. The shame and the guilt and the fear of being a disappointment. So they just leave instead. It's easier."
"It's dangerous." Alec argued, halfheartedly this time. "They're putting themselves in much more vulnerable situations."
"Yeah," Ellie agreed. "They are. But it's also easier, which is why our job in preventing substance abuse should never come from a place of shame or judgment." She softened, clasping her hands together nervously. "That's how you lose the most vulnerable kids who'd rather turn to the most dangerous option available to them than face the problem head on. They run off, and then you really can't help them anymore."
"Yeah." Alec sighed. "Yeah, I know."
The wind began to pick up and their pace accelerated, winding through boats and supplies in the dark.
"Look for hiding spots," Alec instructed Ellie and she nodded. "Or anything that stands out as odd."
"Yes, sir."
Wincing against the biting wind that came off the sea in cold gusts and whipped his hair up and off of his forehead, Alec turned toward a tall sail boat for cover. Ducking behind its hull, he walked the perimeter and kept his eyes open for traces of anything suspicious: signs of a struggle, drug paraphernalia that might have been left behind, or items placed in ways that didn't make sense. His torchlight swung left and right, matching his gaze.
He went on further, passing ships and small dinghies, piles of netting, crates, and a spare motor or two. The air smelled of salt and sea and he scrunched up his nose at it in disdain.
"Might not have much luck tonight," he muttered. When there was no answer, he peered over his shoulder. "Miller?"
Despite his torchlight, the silent darkness seemed to go on forever in every direction. Confused, he poked his head around a large ship.
"Miller," he called more urgently, but still there was no reply over the howling of the wind and the lapping of the sea. Oh good. They had gotten separated. "Bollocks," he whispered, and pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket.
Suddenly, there was a crackling noise from behind him and he whirled around, heart beating a little faster than before.
"Who's there?" Alec called out, torchlight aimed high and his voice a little more strained than he would have liked. He stared out into the shadows, but of course there was no one: only a rustling of wind in the tall grass and sails creaking on their masts from above. He let go of the breath he had been holding, frustrated at himself for getting spooked at nothing but the dark.
He was getting too old for this.
Alec's steady gaze slowly swept the shipyard and, deciding that it would be best to go looking for Miller for both their sakes, he turned his back on the noise. Making a beeline for the car park, he did allow himself to look over his shoulder every few steps for good measure.
Heading in one direction, Alec quickly realized that he had gotten himself a little lost and, as he approached a new area filled with even larger ships, he found that he had not been heading toward the car park at all. Then, his torchlight began to go out in lazy flickers.
"Oh, come on," he growled, hitting the side of the lamp a few times with his open palm, but the light fizzled out, blinked, and flickered one last time before it died out for good. "For fuck's sake," he swore.
Tightening his hold on his now useless torch, he spun in a slow circle and tried to get his bearings. It quickly became apparent that he had no idea which direction he had come from now that he couldn't see properly and, spying a fenced-in area up ahead that contained a small shack of some description, he decided to go up to it. At least it would be easily-identifiable, unlike the endless graveyard of moored ships in the middle of which he suddenly found himself adrift.
When Alec reached the fence, he noticed it was an old run-down fishing supplies shop. Much like the shipyard itself, it was locked with another chain and rusted padlock to keep burglars out overnight.
Craning his neck to peer over his shoulder one more time, he raised his mobile again and began to type out a text message.
Alec: I'm by Murphy's Line and Tackle. Where r u?
Alec slipped his mobile back into his breast pocket while he waited for a reply, and he snuck another look over his shoulder.
A weird feeling crept at the back of his neck just then, making goosebumps rise on his flesh, though the sharp wind seemed to have nothing to do with it.
Locking eyes with another tall ship raised up off the ground on stilts, he slowly approached to investigate, tarp and all. With curiosity on the brain, Alec crouched down, pushed the tarp aside and, palm flat against the side of the ship, he peeked under the hull to the other side. His eyes darted around, but despite his intuition telling him that something about it was not quite right, there didn't seem to be anything there.
Click.
Alec froze, his heart jolting in his chest and his eyes going wide. He knew that sound.
"Get up," a voice spoke, calm and all-too measured. "Slowly."
As instructed, Alec slowly rose from his crouch to a standing position, hands held up in surrender.
The barrel of a gun was pressed against the back of his head and he jerked at the touch.
"Don't move."
Pulse accelerating, Alec's breathing began to come out in little pants and his gaze swung up toward the night sky in a silent plea to the vacant heavens. He would do exactly as he was told, he thought, trying to calm himself, and hoped that back-up would arrive sooner rather than later.
"What's a cop doing here all on his own?" the voice taunted.
Alec's heart stuttered, and he swallowed. So he knew he was a cop. He'd been watching.
"I don't want any trouble," Alec said, wincing at himself for sounding as though he was reading from a terrible script.
"'Course you don't," the man deadpanned. There was a malicious smile in the tone of his voice.
Alec's knees went a bit funny then, and he rushed to think of something to say to de-escalate the situation before anyone got hurt. Firearms were not something he often had to contend with in his line of work and he wasn't used to the instinctive and uncontrolled spike of panic that muddled his now racing thoughts.
Think.
And yet, before he could do anything but worry at his predicament and at his now racing heartbeat, a sudden flash of pain exploded at the back of his head and he crumpled to the ground.
Everything went black.
*
Ellie jogged over to the officer on the scene, their torchlight meeting long before they did.
"Have you seen him?" Ellie asked.
"No, m'aam," the officer said. "Can't find him anywhere."
"Have you found Murphy's?" Ellie began to walk alongside the officer as they continued further north. "He's not answering his phone anymore."
"Not yet, ma'am."
Flashing her torch left and right, Ellie scanned the deserted shipyard and grew increasingly concerned on her boss's behalf. He never disappeared like this, not without telling her where he'd gone.
"That stupid man better not have had another heart attack or so help me, he will be on desk duty for the rest of his life," Ellie worried out loud, her footsteps quickening. Nervously fidgeting, she rang his mobile again, and it rang out until the voicemail came on for the third time.
'Aye, leave a message-' click.
"Still nothing?" Andrew asked, aiming his torch between fishing vessels.
"No," Ellie stuffed her phone back into her pocket. "Nothing."
They continued walking in silence for several yards until their torchlight beams came upon an old shack surrounded by a crooked fence. The sign above the door read Murphy's Line and Tackle, but there was no one else in sight. Alec had vanished.
"Where's he gone?" Ellie flashed her torchlight in a circle.
Andrew moved in one direction, but she was pulled toward a row of large ships. She approached them cautiously, peeking under the hull of one ship, and then another, and then another, somehow hoping she'd find the old sod hidden somewhere underneath.
"Ma'am!"
Spinning around, Ellie's heart jumped at the sudden urgency in Andrew's voice and she ran toward the officer who was now crouching in the gravel. His torchlight was illuminating a black police-issue flashlight; the same one Alec would have been carrying.
"Is that-" Ellie stepped forward to pick it up but Andrew's arm came out to stop her.
"Watch out, ma'am," Andrew said, pointing. "Look."
Near the discarded flashlight, there were a few drops of something slick and red spattered on the stones.
Blood.
"DS Lewis," Ellie ordered, panic rising in her gut. "Get SOCO on the line." Andrew reached into his jacket for his handheld radio. "And call in a missing person's report. Now."