Sister, Missing by Sophie McKenzie Page B

she didn’t look that thrilled to be talking about him. But I didn’t get the impression she was annoyed with me
for asking – if anything she seemed sympathetic.
    I took a deep breath. ‘He asked me out,’ I lied. ‘Told me to meet him here.’
    Freckles raised her eyebrows. ‘He’s such a loser.’
    ‘Yeah?’ I said. ‘So . . . so does he work here or not?’
    Freckles shook her head sorrowfully. ‘He just hangs out here. Right now he’s with his latest girlfriend.’ She pointed through the Shack’s window, towards a restaurant
further along the promenade. ‘They’ll be in there.’
    ‘Thanks.’ I turned away.
    Freckles grabbed my arm. ‘Don’t waste your time on him,’ she said. ‘I wish I hadn’t.’
    We hurried out of the Shack and along the promenade. As we neared the carousel, the faint strains of its usual music drifted towards us – a brass band version of ‘The Teddy
Bear’s Picnic’. It had been playing the same tune when Madison and I had walked past . . . was that really only a day ago?
    We left the carousel behind and headed towards the restaurant. It was a large pizza place filled with customers.
    I spotted the boy as soon as I walked in. He was leaning back in his booth, clearly flirting with the heavily-lipsticked girl sitting opposite him. I checked the time. 3.45 pm. Sonia Holtwood
would be calling in fifteen minutes. What on earth was I going to say to her?
    This boy had to have some information.
    He looked up as Jam, Shelby and I walked over. His face was as chiselled and model-like as I remembered, though he showed no sign of recognising me.
    ‘Hi.’ He looked from me to Shelby to Jam. ‘Did you want something?’
    ‘You came up to me on the beach yesterday,’ I said. ‘You asked if I knew a girl called Cassie.’
    The boy’s eyes widened. Now he was remembering. I could see it.
    ‘Who’s Cassie?’ the pink-lipsticked girl opposite him said suspiciously. She looked at me. ‘Who are you?’
    ‘My name’s Lauren.’ I turned back to the boy. ‘All I want to know is who told you to speak to me.’
    ‘No-one told me to,’ the boy said.
    ‘Yes, they did,’ Shelby said.
    ‘I bet they paid you to do it too,’ Jam added shrewdly.
    ‘What is all this?’ whined Lipstick Girl. ‘What’s going on, Matt?’
    Matt stood up, a lock of blond hair falling over his forehead.
    ‘Go away,’ he said viciously.
    We glared at each other. He was a lot taller than me. Taller even than Jam. But I stood my ground.
    ‘The people who paid you have kidnapped our sister,’ I said, lowering my voice so the girl at the table couldn’t hear. ‘They’re capable of killing her. They will kill her if we don’t find her first.’
    Matt’s tanned, handsome face paled.
    ‘If you don’t help us I’ll tell the police you were helping the kidnappers. That’ll make you an accessory to a serious crime.’
    ‘No.’ Matt gulped. ‘Don’t go to the police. I—’
    ‘. . . already have a record?’ Jam suggested.
    Matt frowned with anxiety. ‘It was a woman,’ he said, his voice barely audible. ‘She didn’t give me her name, but she had an American accent.’
    ‘Holtwood,’ Shelby breathed.
    ‘OK,’ I said. ‘Tell me everything that happened.’

 
12
    The Trail
    Matt led us away from his table. Lipstick Girl frowned, but didn’t attempt to follow. Matt stopped beside a glass cupboard containing shelves of cakes and desserts, then
spoke in a low voice.
    ‘The woman who came up to me was older . . . maybe in her forties, and American . . . I dunno,’ he said. ‘She was wearing a cap, pulled down low, and shades. Didn’t say
her name. Just paid me a hundred pounds to walk up to you on the beach and distract you . . . I don’t really know anyone called Cassie. I made that up.’
    He brushed his blond curls off his forehead and glanced quickly round the restaurant as if to check no-one had overheard him.
    ‘How did this woman find you?’ I asked.
    Matt shrugged.