Perfect, she thought, ending the call and turning her attention to the police exiting Mark’s property.
The timing would be crucial. She had to get Melissa alone. Which she soon would, it seemed. Jade smiled as one of the officers turned at the squad car to ask Melissa whether she was sure she would be all right on her own, informing her that the family liaison officer would be with her soon.
Jade waited as the squad car drove off and then, checking the road was clear, took a step towards the house, cursing as her phone vibrated. It was Dylan calling, again.
‘What?’ Jade hissed, moving back under cover of the trees.
‘What do I do if she wakes up?’ Dylan asked. ‘Her little cheeks are still all flushed. I’m worried she might start crying again and I—’
‘For God’s sake, Dylan, she won’t wake up. I’ve given her some Calpol,’ Jade snapped. She was anxious to get back into the house while there was a lull in police activity. With Dylan fussing and clucking about like a mother hen, thinking Angel looked a bit peaky, she’d miss her opportunity. He’d even suggested he take her out in her stroller for some fresh air. Moron. Jade had paid cash for the room, but the last thing she wanted drippy Dylan doing was perambulating about the Travelodge car park, which would be bound to draw attention. ‘I’ll be back soon, my love,’ she assured him, softening her tone.
Once she’d filled Melissa in about her deceitful bastard of a husband, that was. Which she would need to do soon, before Mark gave anyone his version of events. Clearly, knowing he’d be dropping himself in it if he confessed why he’d thrown her out like so much rubbish, he’d decided to keep that information to himself.
She had to get to Melissa now. There was no other time. Having carelessly endangered her child while she pissed about with her stupid clay statues, Melissa would be teetering dangerously near to the edge. Her grip on reality would be fragile, and she would be susceptible, ready to believe her husband capable of anything. And once she’d seen the indisputable evidence of his perverted sexual preferences, then the weak, self-obsessed woman would fall, and so would Mark Cain.
Letting herself quietly in through the back door, Jade found the kitchen was empty. Poor Melissa must be having a little lie down, she deduced. And no wonder, if she’d popped a few of these little beauties. Seeing the sedatives, Zopiclone, at the back of one of the work surfaces, Jade hummed contentedly and turned for the hall.
Mark’s laptop was there. Oh, deary me. He really was careless. Though it was only his personal PC, one really would think that, as a policeman, he might have it better protected. Quickly plugging in her phone, she uploaded the desired photo to his desktop. Most of the pictures she’d taken were innocent enough, but the one of him in Poppy’s bedroom, the dreadful day her poor little goldfish had died, that could easily be wildly misinterpreted. Mark half naked, removing Poppy’s nightie? That would certainly look suspect, particularly in combination with a few of the more risqué sites she quickly saved to his bookmarks – definitely extreme, most definitely illegal, and enough to have Melissa and his colleagues reeling with shock.
Job done, Jade replaced the laptop in its usual position and turned for the stairs, humming silently as she went. Hush, little baby…
Hearing a sound from the nursery, she guessed that’s where she’d find Melissa, no doubt regretting having neglected her baby. Jade was heading that way when Poppy’s door squeaked open and the girl peered out to stare at her like a startled sparrow.
Smiling languidly, Jade pressed her finger to her lips, which was enough to have the brat backing back in and closing the door in a flash. Presumably the dog was in there with her. And it had better stay in there too, or the next noise it emitted in Jade’s presence would be a gurgle.
In the nursery, Melissa was standing with her arms wrapped about her in the protective stance she’d adopted since her perfect little world had started falling apart. Rolling her eyes at the woman’s complete inability to do anything other than feel sorry for herself, Jade tapped lightly on the door. ‘Mel?’ she said, her voice loaded with fake concern.
Sixty-Nine
MELISSA
It took a second for Melissa to register the voice behind her. When it did permeate the thick fog in her head, she wondered whether she was imagining it. She’d imagined she could hear Evie crying in here every time she lay back on her bed.
‘Mel? Are you okay?’
Jade? But hadn’t Mark said she’d left? Mel could only assume because her situation here had become intolerable.
‘I’m so sorry, Mel,’ Jade said, tears streaming down her face. ‘If I’d been here… If I hadn’t run off like that… Oh God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. I should have stayed. I—’
Jade gulped back a wretched sob, and despite her own pain, which if God was merciful would surely kill her, Mel felt for her. Jade wasn’t to blame. If anyone was, she was – though, in truth, she blamed Mark.
‘It’s not your fault, Jade. They’ll find her.’ Even as she said it, the hopelessness, the tidal wave of grief she’d felt since Evie had gone, washed through her afresh, leaving her weak and empty in its wake.
Her sobs stilling to a shudder, Jade nodded. ‘I had to come back. I have to tell you something, Mel,’ she said, her innocent blue eyes – child’s eyes, almost – clouded with confusion and worry. ‘I wasn’t sure whether to say, but I think you need to know.’
‘Know what?’ Noting the nervousness now in Jade’s eyes, Mel felt an immediate sense of uneasiness.
‘I… need to show you,’ Jade said hesitantly.
‘Show me?’
‘Mark’s laptop,’ Jade said uncomfortably. ‘I needed to do some online banking so I borrowed it and… I should have asked him, but…’
His laptop? Icy trepidation running the length of her spine, Mel was already halfway out of the door, heading for the hall, where she knew Mark always left it.
* * *
Staring in disbelief at the screen, Melissa felt repulsion flood every pore in her body. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t! Yet it was there, right in front of her eyes: every sordid detail, every vile pornographic image.
Dear God, not children.
Nausea gripping her stomach, Melissa dragged her horrified gaze away from the graphic images, which would be forever imprinted on her mind, and ran to the downstairs toilet, where she retched the dry contents of her stomach until her insides were raw.
Poppy? Why was that photo on his desktop? Only that photo? He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t! Melissa snatched at the toilet roll, pressed a wad to her mouth, trying to stop the violent trembling that shook her entire body.
‘Melissa?’ Standing behind her, Jade barely whispered it. ‘Here,’ she said, two small pills in her outstretched hand. ‘Take these. Dr Meadows left them, remember? They’ll help with the anxiety.’
‘Anxiety?’ Melissa laughed – a laugh bordering on hysteria. It was going to take more than two pills, she thought, desperately trying to quell the nausea as she reached for them, swallowed them quickly down and headed back to the kitchen.
‘I’ve warmed you some milk,’ Jade said. ‘It’ll help line your stomach,’ she added, offering her the mug cautiously, as if Melissa might throw it at the nearest wall. She wanted to. She wanted to tear the whole house apart, brick by brick, and everything in it. Erase the nightmare. Dear God, she wished she could erase it.
Melissa took the mug, swilling the contents back for Jade’s sake as she sat down and braced herself to browse the rest of Mark’s internet history.