Rachel Brimble: Ethan's Daughter

“Without him or her speaking to us? No. Even if you told me this person’s name, we don’t have the resources to protect against a what-if or maybe. My advice to you is to persuade this person to come to the station as soon as you can before anything else happens. Until then, there’s nothing we can do.” He frowned. “I get the impression you’re genuinely worried, Miss Dixon. Do what you can to help, but until a person wants that help, it can be a difficult job.”

She swallowed. “And if this person has a child living with them?”

Concern darkened his gaze. “Then they most definitely need to come and see us.”

She sighed and briefly closed her eyes. “Okay.” She stepped back from the counter. “Thank you, Sergeant.”

“Miss Dixon?”

Leah turned back to the counter. “Yes?”

“If you think a child could be in genuine danger, I recommend you call social services, but before you do that you need to be certain you’ve got the situation correctly assessed.”

Leah held the sergeant’s gaze as her mind replayed the sincerity in Ethan’s gaze, the doubt and loneliness that emanated from him. Not to mention the deep care he had for Daisy. She exhaled. “This hypothetical person is a good person, Sergeant. Someone who might have been thrown into a bizarre state of affairs through no fault of their own.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Then I’ll leave my advice with you, but I can’t say this conversation hasn’t raised my concerns.”

She nodded. “I’m sure everything will be fine, but if I need your help again, I’ll come straight back here. Okay?”

“As you wish.”

Turning, Leah left the station, walked across the parking lot and got into her car. She breathed deep and started the engine. Come what may, she’d see Ethan tonight, and hopefully, what to say or do next would become clear. Then she could go back to her life pre–handsome author...and his little girl.

* * *

ETHAN PRESSED HARD on the delete key of his laptop and watched the pathetic paragraph he’d written disappear. The morning’s work had been painful, both physically and mentally. One-handed typing and a head full of nothing but real life, rather than fiction, meant nothing good would be written anytime soon.

He got up from his chair, grabbed his phone and wandered downstairs into the kitchen.

Filling a glass with water, he drank deep. The possibility of getting any worthwhile work done was zilch until he spoke with Anna. He couldn’t leave the situation as it was, no matter how much he might want to.

He couldn’t turn away from Anna as she had him. What if something happened to her? Did he really want to have to explain to Daisy how her mother had asked for his help and he’d refused?

Refilling his glass, he picked up his phone and headed outside into his back garden. Although the sun shone, a cool breeze whispered its first scent of autumn, and as Ethan sat at his outside table, the prospect of another long winter continually working indoors pressed down on him.

As much as he maintained his self-inflicted solitude, his past mistakes were not Daisy’s. They were his...as was his seemingly endless anger and resentment. Having Leah Dixon sweep through his house like a tornado made him realize that he had to change the reclusiveness he’d created, for Daisy’s sake, if not his own. How long did he think she would accept his word on everything? Forever? Of course she wouldn’t. He might be nudging toward his midthirties, but he still remembered teenage rebellion well enough.

Sliding his phone onto the table, Ethan leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

Over breakfast that morning, he’d raised Daisy’s disappearance the night before with his daughter. Her explanation hadn’t been one he’d expected. What a fool he was. She’d gone looking for some friends to play with, saying the only ones she had she saw at school or the occasional birthday party. To his shame, felt more acutely since yesterday, he hadn’t allowed her to have friends over, no matter how many times she’d asked. Their home was their haven. He didn’t need friends, but now he saw that Daisy did.

He’d brought that loneliness to her.

His phone rang and Ethan sat bolt upright, as though whoever was on the line knew of his complete lack of good parenting and had called to pass sentence. Caller ID unknown.

He pressed Talk. “Ethan James speaking.”

“Ethan, it’s me.”

He closed his eyes. “Anna.”

“You have to help me. I don’t have anyone else to go to with this. You know that.”

“How do I know that?” He gripped the phone. “I don’t know anything about you. Not anymore.”

“So? You could still help me.”

He snapped his eyes open. “No. I’m not getting involved in whatever this is. Call the police if you’re scared. I don’t want you around Daisy.”

“Daisy, Daisy, Daisy. Life isn’t always about her, you know. If I call the police everything will be worse.”

“For who?”

“All of us.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I’m just saying—”

“That you thought the best course of action would be to come to my home, your daughter’s home, brandishing a knife. Was that the safer option?” Anger simmered deep inside. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I didn’t have a choice. If Harry finds me—”

“Your boss, right? The man you are so scared of you saw fit to attempt stabbing me to illustrate your point.”

“I didn’t stab you. You grabbed the damn knife.”

Ethan tightened his grip on the phone. “Why do you want this money? To get away from this guy and his cronies?”

“Yes. He’ll kill me if I don’t, Ethan. I’m serious.”

Thoughts of what Anna’s death could mean to Daisy in the future, what it would mean to his guilt, slithered through his conscience. “Run everything by me again. I might be more receptive to what you have to say without you holding a knife while our daughter is upstairs.” He grimaced. Or more like when Daisy was alone at the beach or with Leah Dixon.

“Okay. Well, Harry isn’t only my boss. He’s my boyfriend and the head of a gang here in Bristol.”

“What sort of a gang? I assume the guy’s at least past his twenties?”

“Of course he is. What do you take me for?”

Not trusting himself to answer, Ethan held up his hand to check the bandage. Dots of blood showed through the material and he forced himself to relax. “Go on.”

“He’s the head of a group of heavies. I knew he was involved in paid protection, some extortion, that sort of thing...”

Her tone was unbelievably blasé. “Oh, that’s all right, then. Just petty stuff, huh? Jesus, Anna.”

“But then I witnessed him dealing drugs. He told me he had nothing to do with them, and now I’m doubting anything he tells me.”

“You don’t say?”

“Ethan, please. I’m in serious trouble here. I told him I’d go to the police with what I knew unless he set me free and gave me some cash to start over. He refused, telling me to keep my mouth shut or he’d shut it for me.”

Everything had grown incredibly dark inside Ethan. He leaned forward and put his elbow on the table, pressing the phone hard to his ear. “So, what, you’re this guy’s property? Is that what he’s saying?”

“It wasn’t always like this between us. At least, not in the beginning. Harry gave me everything I dreamed of. A place to dance, some small acting jobs. I thought he could get me to where I want to be, but now everything’s gone wrong. I don’t want to die, Ethan. No matter what you might think of me, surely you don’t want that, either. I’m Daisy’s mother, after all.”

Her whimpering tone was like a spark off a flint, and Ethan shoved himself to his feet, the chair teetering to the floor behind him. “Don’t. Don’t you dare go there, Anna. I thought it was bad enough you didn’t mention Daisy last night, but now that I hear you say her name, it makes me angrier than ever. You’re no mother to her. What if this guy would’ve had you followed? Or came here himself?”