A/N Sorry for the delay, I'm in the middle of a huge story and am struggling to keep everything else on track. Much apologies, am hopefully back on track with this. Thanks for waiting!!

Chapter Twenty One

Marc was getting more and more annoyed, the fire investigator wouldn’t close the investigation which meant that he couldn’t get back into the house to secure it. Time was ticking on merrily and he was beginning to think he’d never make it back home before it was dark. He had managed to find a carpenter who was at this moment waiting to secure the cremated doors. But he couldn’t leave London until things were secure, not that he really cared, he was happy leaving the rest to the police and insurance agents to fight over. But his elderly neighbour John was really worried, and he didn’t need the hassle.

                “Is there any chance we can get in to sort this out? I’ve got places to be...”

The officer was talking into a radio and merely waved him away. Marc’s anger was palpable as he paced the path getting more and more angry.

His mobile rang and frustrated he pulled it out of his pocket. Glancing at it, he expected to see Isobel’s name on the screen, but when he saw the school’s identity flashing on the screen, he felt bile rise in his throat. He looked at his watch, school ended twenty minutes ago. What was wrong? The school never called, not outside of school hours. Had Isobel collapsed, was one of the kids unwell?

                “Hello?” he could barely hear a reply over the pounding on his ears.

It was the headmistress, “Mr Banfield. I’m afraid that no one has picked up your children or Taylor Mullins. I did try Taylor’s mother but there was no answer.”

Isobel hadn’t collected them? She would never forget, and if she was delayed she’d call the school, or someone else to collect her. Wouldn’t she? What did that mean? He couldn’t help his mind racing, and the world started to spin as he staggered, a million images flashing through his closed eyes, “Ok.” He managed a response, “I’m sorry, I’m in London. I’ll get Mrs Edwards to pick them up the three of them; she’ll take about ten minutes. I am SO sorry Mrs Saunders. I’m not sure where Isobel is, I’ll try and call her.”

After a less than understanding response from the headmistress, he disconnected the call and dialled Mrs Edwards.

                “She left about two hours ago to collect some pictures Marc.” Was her innocent reply when he asked the older woman about Isobel. Oblivious to the pain and nausea engulfing him, she carried on, “I told her to let Eric drive, but you know what she’s like...’headstrong’. She went, then said she’d go straight to school.”

He took a few deep breaths trying to keep his anxiety in check, “she didn’t make it that far. She must be held up somewhere. Could you get to the school now? The kids are in the headmistress’ office, they’ll be stressed if they don’t come home soon, I’m still in London, I was hoping to be home by now.”

Mrs Edwards loved feeling useful, so still oblivious of the trauma unfolding; she assured him that Eric would drive her to fetch the children immediately. They’d take them to McDonalds as a treat and amuse them until Isobel got back. She gushed with her new found purpose, oblivious to the reality that Isobel wasn’t where she was meant to be. But for Marc as least one problem was dealt with, and he was grateful at that moment for her efficiency.

Calling over the carpenter, he promised him double the fee if he’s work as soon as he could, then asked his neighbour to oversee things. Despite his earlier panic on the phone, it seemed that John his neighbour was more than happy to be an active part of the drama. So without expressing too much concern outwardly, he managed to dive in the car, switched his hands free on and dialled Samuel. That was where she had headed, and he had no idea if she made it that far. She could be lying in a ditch somewhere, or even in a hospital bed. And he wasn’t there to help her, to protect her.

It took what felt like forever for Samuel to answer his call, as he waited he rued the artistic streak that creative people had that made them switch off from reality.

                “Hello?”

Marc almost bit his head off, “Is that Samuel?” When he grunted a yes, Marc snapped again, “It’s Marc Banfield, I’m looking for Isobel, she didn’t make it to school to collect the kids. She was planning to visit you?”

“She did.” There was a moment’s pause, “she left about an hour ago.  Is everything ok?”

                “I don’t know Samuel, she didn’t get to her next destination and her phone is off, I have to go, I need to free up this phone. Will you note this number and call me if you hear anything?”

                “Of course. Good luck.”

Marc shuddered at that, then hung up.

He could call Orla, Michael, anyone in the village, but if she was in any of those locations then she wouldn’t have left the children. She was hardly a missing person...

The phone ringing caused him to snap out of his deliberation, “hello?”

                “Marc dear,” it was Mrs Edwards.

                “Mrs E, how are the kids?”

She laughed, “they’re great, all eating their food, I just wanted you to know we had them.”

He sighed, one thing less to concern him at the moment, “I owe you a million times over, thanks.”

                “No problem. See you soon.”

As he ate up the miles that took him back to his beautiful country house he couldn’t control his panic. At the back of his mind were the threats from his soon to be ex brother in law. Richard was a bastard, but he was no hardened criminal, but something made the man’s words keep echoing in his mind. Dialling, he tried Richard, his mobile was off, the house phone rang and rang, he wasn’t there, and obviously Claudia was still on her cruise. So as a last resort he tried his brother-in-law’s work. He worked for a commercial back headquarters in the City.

                “Mr Portman has taken two weeks off I’m sorry. He’s not due back until the end of the month.” He asked for more information, but the secretary knew no more, so reluctantly he hung up, but he was no more settled. In fact the thought that Richard was somewhere, off the map scared him. Despite knowing that he wouldn’t be taken seriously, he had to do something. And fear the worst seemed to be the only option he had. The more he drove, the more sick he felt. Sicker than sick. So he called the police, the only thing he could do.

He slammed the car into the driveway still furious at the police.

                “She needs to be missing for twenty four hours before we can open a case,” “there are no signs that she’s done anything but lose track of time,” they obviously didn’t believe his story, despite all that had happened in the last few hours.

As he swung the car across the gravel drive, sending a ray of pebbles into the air, he noticed the plain dark car ahead of him, the inhabitant of the car was a sombre looking man, who emerged as he climbed from his own vehicle.

                “I’m DI Matthews.”

Marc didn’t give him chance to say anything further, “I thought you were viewing Isobel disappearing as incidental.  That nothing could be done till she was missing for twenty four hours!” Marc announced still livid at the lack of response from law enforcement but also scared half to death that this man had actually come to find him, he must have some news.

“We’ve found Ms Mullins’ car. It was left outside Samuel Mortimer’s property, near the road, the keys were still in the ignition...there was sign of a struggle and blood....we’re waiting on forensics, but we think she may have been involved in an incident.”

                “NO SHIT!” Marc half shouted. “Her ex has threatened her, yet when I reported this less than an hour ago, no one gave a damn! We could have found her...”

The detective looked at his note pad, “Richard Portman? We’ve had officers visit his home, it’s locked up his car is missing...”

Turning away from the officer, he pulled the phone out of his pocket and dialled Claudia, she’d know where he is, but as yet wasn’t answering. The benefits of a luxurious cruise, as he’d travelled back he’d searched for details for communicating with the boat.

After lots of dead ends, he eventually he managed to get hold of the cruise director and leave an urgent message for either his mother or Claudia, asking them to call him as soon as they could.

                “So Matthews!” He called to the police officer who had made for his car, “what’s your plan to find her?”

The other man came back to him, “we’ve got a team looking into his whereabouts, APB’s are out on him and his car. And there’s a team searching his house. We’re doing everything we can.”

Marc sighed, it all seemed too late.

                “I’m waiting for my sister...his wife to get back to me; she might know where he’d go.”

If the police officer found the relationships strange he said nothing, “I’ll need you to fill me in on all that happened, the threats...”

Marc nodded, his earlier animosity easing slightly, “you’d better come in.”

It was painful for Marc to relive all that had happened between Isobel and Richard, she’d run away from everything to escape Richard, and he had led her straight back into the hell of him. It sounded ridiculous that he’d left her alone, that he’d trusted his instincts, and that everything he’d dreaded had come to a head. Groaning he paced the length of the lounge innumerable times as he answered question after question.

                “There’s nothing else to had,” he finally offered with exasperation, “we need to be out there searching.”

The police detective shook his head, “that would be a wild goose chase; we have to wait until we have a concrete lead, an idea, a sighting. Meanwhile re hashing everything might remind you of something you’ve forgotten. Let’s go back to the phone call from him again.”

Marc groaned on the verge of tears, he’d kill his brother in law if he’d hurt her, he’d see to that.