“We will certainly investigate this further,” Clare reassured her, “and of course let you know of any developments.”
The woman’s face softened a little, hope shining in her watery blue eyes. “You do think Edward will turn up alive, don’t you?”
“I sincerely hope so, ma’am. You have given me some valuable information today. I really appreciate your time. Thank you for the refreshments.” She hoped Mrs. Bradshaw wouldn’t notice her full cup and uneaten cookie.
“Thank you my dear. Thank you.” She clasped Clare’s hand, her eyes filled with a mixture of hope and desperation. “Anything to get my Eddie back.”
Clare squeezed the woman’s hand gently, feeling sorry for her. Mary Bradshaw was probably trapped in a loveless marriage in her perfect home, waiting for news of her son who’d disappeared in a city she dared not set foot in herself.
“And erm, just one more thing—” Mrs. Bradshaw’s hand fluttered nervously to her mouth. “Please don’t try to contact my husband. He doesn’t know you’ve been here today. He won’t have Edward’s name mentioned in the house, so it would not go down well if he knew we had spoken.”
“I understand your concerns, Mrs. Bradshaw. I will not make contact with your husband,” Clare said. But in truth, she didn’t understand. She would never understand how a father could disown his son simply because he mixed with monsters as equals.
Fifteen minutes later, she drew up outside the Spriggs’ more modest dwelling in a part of Tween that was nowhere near as posh as the area where the Bradshaws lived. The lawns weren’t quite as pristine, the paintwork not as sparkly. But it was still eminently respectable.
Her parents’ home and the funeral parlor weren’t far from here, maybe she would pop home afterward and say hi. But then they’d ask her to stay for dinner, and then why not stay thenight? And shame on her, she was itching to get back to Motham and her grungy little apartment. And to phone Oliver Hale.
Only because I have leads I need to share.
Yeah, right, who are you kidding?
Truth was, she was obsessed with being around that damn vampire, the excitement and turmoil she felt around him, the gnawing emptiness that only seemed to be alleviated by his presence. What the fuck was wrong with her?
She took out her phone and pulled up his number then stared at it, chewing on her lower lip.
No point calling him. She needed to talk to the Spriggs first.
As she went up the garden path, Jo was already opening the door, as if she’d been waiting for her to arrive.
“Come in, Hank is here too.”
Clare hadn’t seen Hank Spriggs for years. He’d grown rounder and his hair had greyed. But the house hadn’t changed. It took her back to sleepovers and the camaraderie she’d shared with Natalie, and that brought with it a wave of sadness. It also reminded her why she’d gone back to work in Motham this time around. For Natalie. Not for fucking Oliver Hale.
“Have you got any more news?” Jo’s face was pinched with anxiety.
Clare shook her head. “What I can tell you is that we’ve been to Natalie’s apartment and found a couple of things—not worrying in themselves—which we’ll discuss shortly. But right now, I need more information from you regarding the events that led to Natalie taking the job with Slither and Scales.”
“Sure.” The Spriggs sat down next to each other on the sofa, clasping hands.
Clare got out her notebook and pen. “Was there anything you recall, any person she talked about who influenced her in any way, any events she went to?”
Hank scratched his balding head. “Yeah. There was a seminar she went to in Be-Tween, do you remember Jo?”
His wife nodded. “Some human was giving a talk about living and working in Motham. Afterward Natalie was full of how lovely the human was who was running it.”
“Do you know their name, or the company?”
“No. If she said, I don’t remember.”
“It wasn’t Humans4Monsters recruitment was it, by any chance?”
“I really can’t remember, I’m sorry.” Jo shook her head.
“We found this invitation in Natalie’s belongings.” Clare showed them the invitation to the cocktail party and Jo put her hands to her mouth, tears welling. “That name sounds horrible. Like they’re going to eat humans.” Jo shuddered. “Why would Natalie go to a cocktail party? She wasn’t into that kind of thing.”
“We don’t know for sure she did attend, but we did find a new party dress in her wardrobe, which she may have worn to the event. And this invitation—the seminar you mentioned in Be-Tween may have been run by the same woman, so anything you can remember would really help.”
Hank frowned. “I do know the seminar was just after Natalie’s birthday—so, end of July, I guess. About a month before she left. at the Be-Tween town hall. I remember because I took her there. She’d just given blood at Tween Clinic and I didn’t want her to drive herself.”
