What Happened Next? Episode Two

Episode TWO

KNOCK, KNOCK

I know what you did. The only thing that made those five words even more unsettling was that I had literally no idea what he was talking about. To be honest, Mark and I lived a pretty sheltered life after getting married, both of us working every hour God sent just to keep up with the mortgage payments for our house. My husband even had to get a second job in the evenings just to make ends meet, so I would usually just stay at home, watching crap television and raiding our pantry to pass the time until he got back. With that in mind, what the hell was this mysterious author referring to? Was it a simple case of mistaken identity? Or was something more sinister at play?

Against my better judgment, I started tapping out a response, but I barely got one sentence in until there was a sharp knock at the door. I swivelled my head to look at the clock on the wall, and it was a little early for Mark getting back, so I crossed to the window and peered through the curtains. My jaw dropped when I spotted the two police officers standing at the door, looking up at the house and trying to catch a glimpse through the drawn curtains. I immediately closed the curtains again, but one of them must have seen me because a more deliberate knock followed.

Clutching my dressing gown tightly around me, I strode through to the foyer and unlocked the door. When I opened it, the female uniformed officer greeted me with a professional smile, while her male colleague began scanning the garden with a torch. Feeling rather exposed, I hid behind the door and left just enough of a gap to push my face through so I could find out what they wanted at this hour.

“Dolcie Harper?” the woman asked.

“Yes?” I said, suddenly very aware of how dry my mouth felt.

“I’m Detective Sergeant Zahradnik, and this is Detective Constable Rhodes. We’re making enquiries about a missing person in the area and speaking to residents on this street to see if anyone might have seen or heard anything.”

I blinked at her, desperately trying to focus on what she was saying whilst keeping one eye on Rhodes, who was now diligently searching through my hydrangeas.

“That’s awful!” I replied. “I’m not sure if I can help though—we only just moved in a few weeks ago.”

“Would you mind looking at a photograph, at least?”

“Er—sure,” I mumbled.

The officer pulled up a photo on her phone and then turned the screen to me. The blonde girl looked no older than fifteen, in school uniform, and had her arm draped around someone cropped from the frame. I already knew that I hadn’t seen her before in my life, but I peered at the image just long enough to make sure that the officer knew I had given it a good look.

“Her name is Isobel,” Zahradnik announced. “She was last seen a few days ago.”

“Sorry, no.” I shook my head. “I don’t think I’ve seen her.”

“Everyone knows her around here,” Rhodes said over his shoulder.

“Like I said, we haven’t been here long.”

“Mrs Harper, do you mind if we come in for a moment?” Zahradnik asked politely, but already with one foot over the threshold.

I hesitated just long enough to make it awkward, then stepped aside. “Sure, come in,” I smiled.

They both sauntered in like they had done it a hundred times before. I followed them into the living room, suddenly paranoid about every detail of my home. Had I left anything incriminating lying around? And what did ‘incriminating’ even look like, anyway? My phone was still face down on the coffee table, so I picked it up and put it in my pocket before either of them saw what was displayed on it.

“We won’t take up too much of your time,” Zahradnik said, smiling faintly.

“It’s fine—anything I can do to help,” I smiled.

“Tell me, have you noticed anything unusual lately? Strangers on the street, suspicious cars, odd people hanging around?”

I immediately thought of the man from last week—the one with the grey-streaked hair and the over-friendly smile, who asked for directions to a street that didn’t exist and had just sent me a very cryptic email. I almost mentioned it out of reflex until I buttoned my mouth shut again.

“No,” I smiled innocently. “Nothing comes to mind.”

“This is 23 Porlock Road, correct?” Rhodes asked sternly.

I nodded.

“We traced Isobel’s phone to this location,” she added casually. “Just before midnight last night.”

“Are you saying she was here?” I uttered in astonishment.

She didn’t answer. Neither of them did. They just stared at me, like I was hiding her under the floorboards.

Thank you to Carol Zahradnik from Bethlehem, Pennsylvania for her contribution to this episode!