Web of Lies

Chapter 11

THE DAY HAD STARTED brightly, the sun had been out and there was hardly any sign of clouds. But as the morning grew older, the clouds began to cover above. Their grey blanketing the sky, bringing the nighttime sooner than expected. Dull. Dull, England.

Edward Patterson unlocked the sliding bolt on the metal gate. It creaked and slammed as he did so. Pushing through the gateway, releasing the gate, allowing it to swing back partially closed.

It was the very same cemetery that Edward had been visiting for more than three years. Everything around him was familiar and the fact that he was familiar with a cemetery caused him great pain. Pain that he knew would never heal. He could possibly begin to fill the void that was left when Sarah was taken away from him, but it would never be filled. Edward knew that. He knew that he'd never honestly feel happy again. The only person he loved doesn't belong on this Earth anymore. They aren't here. What do you do then? What do you do when your best friend, your partner, your soulmate, leaves you all alone?

As Edward walked down the paved path, winding through the maze of turns he slowed when he reached her resting place. Sarah's gravestone.

SARAH PATTERSON

11-05-1983 - 03-09-2020

He read the gravestone again and again. He knew it all and remembered every last detail of it. If something was different from the last time he had been here, he was sure to know about it. Every night he would see her gravestone, every night he would think about her, think about how much he misses her and how much he needs her back.

But she wasn't coming back. Edward knew that. Knew that he would never see her again. Of course, he knew that and had eventually accepted it.

"Everything is happening just as we had spoken about," Edward says to the gravestone, dropping himself to his right knee. "I will finish what I promised you. I will not let you down again."

*

ALAN MATHEWS pushed open his home office door, pulling his desk chair out and dropping into it. Fishing for his phone in his trouser pockets. Still no calls or texts from Luke. Nothing at all. He clicks on Luke's contact in his phone and watches as the screen changes to say the call is connecting.

Connecting.

Connecting.

No answer.

"This is the voicemail for 077—" Alan hung up from the automated voicemail message. Still nothing. Where the hell was this boy?

Moments like this never came across the imagination of Alan's. He'd never have expected as a new parent, on the day Luke was born that he would be sitting her now. Not having a single clue what to do when his boy has just somehow disappeared. What does a parent do in this moment? What should they do? Alan didn't know. He felt stupid for thinking this but then he did it anyway.

Alan pushed open the screen of the laptop on his desk. The screen blinked on and displayed a profile icon. One of those defaulted ones like the picture of the lollipop or the traffic cone. Why anyone would choose a traffic cone as their account profile picture is behind him?

Clicking onto the web browser and typing: What to do when your child runs away?

Hitting enter on the keyboard and watching as the screen presented thousands of results. He scrolled down and clicked on a few, reading over selected paragraphs but nothing was actually helping this situation right now. Nothing was telling him what he should be doing. He continued to scroll, click, scroll and click for some time. Lost in a maze of links, news articles and blog posts. Nothing seemed to be able to pull him from this deep hole he was leading himself down until—

Mail (1) - Bryan Fish

Subject: Oh dear, oh dear.

Everything stopped, the scrolling, the clicking, all of the reading and for a time, the heavy breathing. Alan stared at the notification that popped up in the corner of his screen, watching it until it faded out. Bryan Fish. Right now of all times. This was another thing that he had no idea how to deal with and why the hell were they coming at him at the same-damned time?

He knew he should have spoken to Lisa. He should have said something about this to her. Fuck. Alan's mind flipped and spun. Still, he needed to click on the email. He had to read what this vile person was saying or sharing now.

Alan clicked on the email icon and as soon as his inbox had loaded on the screen he immediately opened and read the contents of Bryan Fish's email.

My dear friend, Alan.

I've loved sending you these messages. Loved thinking about what was going through your mind as you read its contents. Not forgetting when you saw those photos.

Oh, dear. Unfaithful little Lisa. She'd been naughty hadn't she? Who can blame her?

There are things closer to your heart and I know that. I know all about you, Mr Mathews. So let's just skip the rest of my chatter for now. I'm sure we'll speak again soon.

I don't want your little spawn, Luke, getting hurt just like you don't. Now you will understand.

Don't contact the police. Wait 24 hours. You will be contacted with your first instructions.

With love, yours faithfully,

Bryan Fish