The Yuletide Child, Charlotte Lamb [best novels to read .TXT] 📗

a few hours ago. He hates being locked in there. What he wants is to get in here, but he would cause havoc’

Pushing away his empty plate, Henry gave a satisfied sigh. ‘That was terrific, Ruth. You’re a good cook. You should open a restaurant; I’d be one of your best customers.’

‘Too much like hard work,’ Ruth said.

He laughed. ‘Well, if you’ve finished eating, Dylan, I’ll check you out before I have to go. Ruth, will you be our chaperon?’

The examination was brief but thorough; he looked at her bruises, listened to her pulse, took her temperature, then listened to the baby’s heartbeat through his stethoscope, inspected her ankle and agreed with her own diagnosis.

‘You’ll do, but I think you should stay here tonight—it would be unwise to try to travel in these conditions. By morning the phones should be working okay.’ Helooked at his watch. ‘Sorry, must dash. Thanks for the meal, Ruth, best I’ve had for ages.’

Dylan caught sight of Ruth’s face, saw something in the twist of her mouth, her hazel eyes, that made Dylan wonder. Maybe this was not such a platonic relationship after all, at least where Ruth was concerned. Or was she imagining things?

Ross was just leaving his hotel when the receptionist called him back. ‘Mr Jefferson, an urgent phone call for you!’

It must be Dylan, he immediately worked out, hurrying back, but the voice was that of her sister, Jenny, sounding upset

‘Ross? Oh, thank goodness. I remembered Dylan told me you were going to some meeting in York but I wasn’t sure which hotel she had said you would be staying at. This is the third one I’ve tried! Ross, Dylan hasn’t arrived yet. There’s a blizzard raging outside, and I’m worried about her.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ross sat in the hotel reception, thinking hard for several minutes, then he rang the police station in the village close to his home.

‘Hi, John, Ross here—have you been past my house today? I’m worried about Dylan. She isn’t answering the phone, but she was supposed to be staying with her sister tonight and hasn’t arrived. I wondered if you’d seen lights in our house?’

The local constable had a slow, calm way of talking. He took his time replying. ‘No, there weren’t any when I drove by at five o’clock, although everyone else had their lights on indoors—it was pretty dark by then. So, as you’d asked me to keep my eye on the place while you were away, I thought I’d better check Dylan was okay. I rang the doorbell, but nobody came, so I took a walk around, looking in the windows—no sign of anybody inside, and I noticed that the flower wagon wasn’t in the garage, so she must be driving. If she hasn’t reached her sister’s soon I should get on to the police down there.’

‘Thanks, John, I will. Look, this is the sister’s phone number. If you hear anything, you can reach me there.’

He put down the phone and walked out of the hotel, anxiety churning in his stomach. What had happened to Dylan? Where was she? If her car had gone she must have set off for Jenny’s—why hadn’t she arrived yet? Horrific images filled his head as he started the engineand slowly drove out of the hotel car park. God, what had possessed her to leave home in this weather?

It took him what seemed an eternity to drive from York to the Lake District, heading for Jenny’s house; there was no motorway between the two parts of the country—he had to use the ordinary roads, which were icy and dangerous, so that it wasn’t safe to drive at anything but a snail’s pace. It was very late when he arrived, but Jenny and her husband were still up. There were lights all over the ground floor of the house, and Christmas lights flashed on and off on the Christmas tree in the window of the sitting room.

When he rang the bell the front door burst open within seconds. Jenny, in a hyacinth-colour woollen dress, stared at him in disappointment, looking past him, obviously hoping to see her sister behind him or in his car.

‘She isn’t with me,’ Ross said flatly, his own heart sinking. ‘She hasn’t got here, then?’

Tears welled up in Jenny’s eyes. She had her sister’s colouring, but in a brighter shade; her brown hair had a tinge of red, her eyes were bright sapphire-blue, her skin was matt white and she had a warm, rounded, matronly figure which had always been fuller than her sister’s slight, slender body. Five years older than Dylan, she had looked after her little sister like a second mother and they remained very close.

‘No. Oh, Ross, I’m getting really worried. I rang the local police, but they had no reports of her being involved in an accident, or taken to hospital around here.’

He followed her into the house and nodded to Jenny’s husband, Phil. ‘Sorry to arrive at this hour...’

Phil made a reassuring gesture. ‘My dear chap! We’re as worried as you are. Glad to see you.’

Ross smiled gratefully at him. ‘I talked to our policeback home; she isn’t there. Her car had gone, so she certainly left—something must have happened to her.’ His voice deepened, roughened as he said that. He felt them watching him with anxiety that matched his own.

‘Maybe when it started to snow heavily she had the common sense to drive to a hotel and check in there for the night?’ Phil suggested. ‘That’s what I’d do.’

‘She’d have rung to let me know she was okay!’ protested Jenny. ‘She would know I’d be worried sick if I didn’t hear.’

‘If the phones were working, maybe—but some phone lines are down; they said so on the TV news.’

Ross sighed. ‘Maybe I should call the police again?’

Jenny nodded. “The number of our local station is written on that pad beside the phone.’

The desk sergeant Ross talked to was quietly reassuring. ‘There is probably a good reason why she hasn’t rung.