Hide and Seek (Lost and Found book 2): A gripping psychological thriller with a breathtaking twist! Read online

  Hide and Seek

  Lost and Found book 2:

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Hide and Seek (Lost and Found book 2)

  Hide | And | Seek | J.S. Ellis

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  All copyright © 2021 Joanne Saccasan All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any way without permission except in the case of quotations or book reviews. This book is a work of fiction. Name, characters, businesses, organisations, places, events, locales and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to an actual person, living or dead, or actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For information contact:

  Black Cat Ink Press

  https://blackcatinkpress.com/

  J.S Ellis

  https://www.joannewritesbooks.com

  Cover Design by Getcovers

  Edited by Melanie Underwood

  Proofread by Natalie Boyland

  ISBN: Ebook 978-99957-1-990-6

  Paperback: 978-99957-1-989-0

  This book is written, edited and proofread in British English

  Sign up for the monthly newsletter

  To receive special offers, giveaways, discounts, bonus content, and updates from the author on new releases with the monthly newsletter.

  https://joannewritesbooks.com

  This book has Adele’s point view download free The Runaway Girl

  Books by J.S. Ellis

  In Her Words

  The Secret She Kept

  Theodore: The Neighbour’s Cat

  The Rich Man

  Series:

  Lost and Found Book 1

  Hide and Seek book 2

  Short Stories

  The sisters

  The Neighbour’s Cat

  Hide

  And

  Seek

  J.S. Ellis

  Chapter One

  I wanted something simple, yet so unattainable. Closure. And Alan gave me none of that.

  I’ve read every piece there was about him. It was an obligation; part of a daily task and it kept me occupied when I had nothing better to do. There were better things I could do, mind you; find a better job, learn French or learn a type of art. I could do something inspiring and rewarding like writing a book, but no, I refused to do all of that because of Alan. We had unfinished business. Well, technically, I was the one with the unfinished business. He moved away, turned his back on everything that had happened, set to marry someone else at Christmas. I hated Christmas because of him. I hated pretty much everything because of him. The one thing I couldn’t listen to was the piano. It reminded me too much of him. It was about him, as it always had been. Adele was gone because of him, Janice almost killed me because of him. Alan, the centre of my universe with his slick flick, piercing blue eyes, and sharp cheekbones. A perfect mix of rock n roll decadence and Pre-Raphaelite beauty. I would never forget the day I saw him coming down the steps with a certain ease, a cigarette dangling between his fingers. The day the rest of my life started, when I saw him with Adele. That was when the trouble began. I had him only so briefly. I felt him, tasted him, fucked him, and I still ached for him. My heart cried for him and he didn’t give a shit.

  Alan wasn’t easy to track down. He didn’t own a single social media account, but Emma did. Three, in fact, Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram. She was a singer. He was a producer and a professional pianist. Classically trained. They had become a dynamic duo. Not famous, but successful. They were more in the indie scene, but both Alan and Emma came from potent families. Alan’s mother, Martha Styles was a professional tennis player, who came from old money, his father used to be her coach. Emma’s father was an investment banker; I was not sure what her mother did for a living. They were going to get married at The Ritz. Emma had announced it by uploading a photo of the hotel’s entrance with a caption that read.

  I hear wedding bells.

  She uploaded photo of her hand holding a microphone, showing off the engagement ring. A princess-cut. Classic and timeless, but I never questioned Alan’s taste. Everything Alan touched turned into gold. Well, not everything, I haven’t turned into gold. Instead, he turned me into this thing I could barely recognise. A hateful beast consumed by rage and hurt. Adele didn’t turn into gold either, she went missing and hasn't been found yet. And Janice, well she was shit out of luck. If I were Emma, I would be careful too. So, not everything Alan touched turned into gold. Nothing about The Ritz screamed small or intimate. But their parents were paying, I assumed, and I had been to Alan’s parents’ house, I had seen the wealth. Now Emma was Adele’s replacement.

  Every day was the repetition of the day before. Everything I did, the effort it took to get out of bed every single morning. I groaned with the agony, with the thought of facing yet another day, knowing what was to come, what was to follow. Day after day. The more days passed, the closer Alan’s wedding was approaching. While I did the same things every single day. Switched on the kettle, brushed my teeth, combed my hair, chose what to wear, decided what food to cook and eat. Cleared out that food, washed the plates and glasses, took out the rubbish, bought more food. Bought the bin liners to throw more rubbish out. Answer the phone, wash the clothes, fold the clothes, store the clothes. Put on my brave face and face the bastards at work. Smile at those cock sucking bastards. Every day, over and over, and over. No way out. I longed for escape, but I had bills to pay.

  On my way to the office, I walked past a homeless man; a dirty blanket was thrown over his lap and he sat under a cardboard box with a bottle of something strong. He was always there in the same spot, a Styrofoam cup in front of him, feet moving past, ignoring him. Not giving a damn about him. Why should they? He was a bum, after all, it was his fault he ended up there, no sympathy for him. He was part of the pavement, serving no single purpose. I envied that man; he owed nothing to nobody. Had no responsibility to anyone or anything. I gave him a twenty-pound note. He thanked me and told me I was very kind. I smiled at him and proceeded into the tall glass building, joining the army of the undead in grey and black suits; my skirt suit grey like the rest of them, with kitten heels, and my long black hair pulled into a ponytail. I looked smart but also blended in. I was screaming on the inside, with the thought of yet another day, but, at least I did something good today. I helped a homeless man who would spend the twenty pounds I gave him on either food, booze or cigarettes.

  I didn’t have my own office, I was just the bookkeeper; I had many more ladders to climb before I reached that stage. Just a cubical for me with a desk and a chair and computer. It was seven am and I had a long day ahead of me. I wouldn’t leave until nine pm. I could leave earlier if I wanted to, but I had nothing to go home to apart from an empty flat.

  ‘You should get a cat, at least you will have someone waiting for you,’ Mum said to me the other day when I called.

  I thought she had gone mad; did she know the long hours I worked? She scolded me for the long hours I worked. It was a dance that went on between us.

  ‘You’re overworking yourself, dear,’ she said.

  ‘I like being busy.’

  ‘I understand you’ve been through a traumatic experience, but you don’t have to torture yourself this way. You nearly lost your life. You should enjoy life, not hide from it.’

  I wasn’t hiding. I just didn’t want any part in it. Janice, had stabbed me. I was lucky to be alive, but part of me had died that night. The night of my birthday and the experience I’d rather forget.

  I loved my mum for her suggestions and her hopefulness. There are a million things I could do, volunteer, join a book club, do yoga, make new friends. Learn French, as I always wanted. But both my mum and I knew, I wouldn’t do any of these things. She’d worry, and I hated that she did. Eventually, it came out that Alan and I had a very short and brief relationship if I can call it that. It couldn’t be avoided, not after the mess I had become when I found out he moved out of the apartment without bothering to tell me. My mum was disgraced. Was he the only man on the planet? No, he wasn’t. He was Adele’s boyfriend. What had I been thinking? So, he was sexy, so what? It was strange to hear my mum use the word sexy. I didn’t think it even existed in her vo
cabulary. Mum used words like attractive or appealing. Never sexy. He might have been Adele’s boyfriend, but Alan was with Janice too for a brief time. The three of us, Janice, Adele and I, floating around with Alan in the middle. My brother, Tom didn’t back away from voicing his opinion.

  ‘You were sleeping with him?’ he asked incredulously. ‘Jesus.’

  I let him express his disagreement. I was a total shit for doing that. I had no right, yes, Adele might have done unpleasant things, bad mouthed me with her friends and Alan, telling Greg to seduce me, but by sleeping with Alan, it made me just as bad. She was still missing and all her bad deeds were forgiven. I wanted her to be found, though if she was found, Adele and I would no longer be friends. I wanted nothing to do with her, and I doubted Adele would want anything to do with me either, not after what I had done.

  Tom was busy planning the wedding with his fiancée, Holly. He’d proposed when they were on holiday in Rome and Holly was stressed to her eyeballs with the wedding. Why did people put themselves through this? All this strain for just a day; that is all it is, a day. Not even a day, just a few hours. I was going to be her maid of honour. I didn’t know why Holly picked me, to be honest. We were friendly and nice to each other but weren’t exactly mates. I had to do the dress fitting in three weeks, something I was dreading. I hate weddings, even if it was my brother’s.

  I had to find out what happened to Adele. This was what kept me up at night, her being gone. One doesn’t recover from something like that. It was something you read about in the newspapers, but not something that would happen to someone you know. She was still out there. The case was still unsolved. Without a body, there wasn’t much the police could do. So, the case had gone stale. Now, the police think she ran away. Her mum was distraught; her daughter was not a runaway. But even I started to believe that maybe Adele did run away and start a new life somewhere else. To go on wondering every day; at least, being dead you would have closure but this, the not knowing, to have no peace with yourself and the situation, to always wonder what might have happened, where she might be, it was too distressing.

  I had plenty of time to think about and develop theories. Alan had been in a relationship for four years with an older woman who had a son. After the relationship had ended, he had a rebound with Janice before he broke it off. He moved right across the street from where I shared my flat with Adele. I noticed him and told Adele. Big mistake. Adele started dating him but it cost her. Janice didn’t tell anyone about her brief fling with Alan. She was still upset that he broke it off. Janice had told me herself before she attacked me, she was heartbroken and wanted to be part of his life. Enter Adele, who started dating Alan. Janice became jealous, even blind with rage. Why had she had to be the rebound? What did Adele have that she didn’t? Why did Adele have to take other people’s stuff? In Adele’s defence, Alan was single. He owed nothing to Janice, but you didn’t date your friend's ex. It wasn’t etiquette. Yes, Adele didn’t know. But Adele knew nothing about girl code, honour, and basic knowledge of human decency. But then again, what did it make me? I did the same thing she had done, but this wasn’t about me. Adele was going to be taught the ultimate lesson and be put in her place. I think somehow Janice drove Adele to go missing or run away. Maybe threatened her. I couldn’t imagine how sticky and uncomfortable it must have been for both of them. Now Janice was dead. Alan had killed her but Adele hadn’t yet returned. Why? Janice might have driven Adele to disappear, but Alan took her away the moment he started seeing her. Janice wasn’t the only person he had killed. I think he killed Perry White, the music critic who hated Alan and who, according to Alan, had been stalking him. There was enough motive to drive Alan to murder him and cover it up by making it look like a sex game gone wrong. This was my theory, but I had no proof.

  Chapter Two

  Robert, the senior accountant, was already there when I walked in. He was in his thirties and wore killer suits that cost an arm and leg. I bet he dined at The Ritz too. He could be handsome but I didn’t fancy him, the two moles on one of his temples didn’t do it for me. He was a sharp dresser, had blue eyes, short chestnut hair, and chiselled features, came from a humble background and started from nothing, as office gossip went. Now, he lived in an apartment overlooking the Thames, the apartment I’d always wanted. I knew he and his secretary, Wanda, had worked together in another firm and he brought her along when he was offered a job here. Rumour had it, they slept together only once and maintained a good professional relationship. Wanda had feelings for him, even if she disguised them very well; a woman always knows, even a lamb like me. When I started working there, Robert trained me himself.

  ‘You have so much potential,’ he said.

  A word I hated as soon as it came out of his mouth. It sounded so condescending.

  ‘I thought you had more potential,’ he told me when I made a mistake in an audit I was assisting him on.

  I was even called a wasted potential by him once or twice. He had a girlfriend; she was his therapist. Wasn’t there a client and doctor’s rule in this matter? True, he no longer used her, I also knew, besides the girlfriend, he got some on the side with the lawyer in the firm, Megan. This wasn’t enough to have him fired, but it would keep the office gossiping for months, and good old Robert would lose his golden boy status. I had been foolish and weak. Robert wasn’t my problem. I was my own problem.

  ‘Good morning, Phoebe,’ he said.

  I strode past his office oozing confidence. I felt the heat of his gaze on my butt. I wore a tight skirt which enhanced my hips giving me a more womanly shape, even though I had a rather boyish figure. This wasn’t my power suit, oh no, I had a long way to go before I could wear something like that. I had more ladders to climb. I might have graduated from university, but I had so much to learn and I was a girl. I had to work hard to prove my worth. If I were a man, I might have got a pat on the back, a key to an office along with the bottle of whisky, but that wasn’t how the world works, not when you come from the inferior species. I had to show my power and right now, I held all the power, and Robert, the king of the domain, was unaware. There were ways I could make this benefit me. I could get Robert to “fast track” my way to the top because why the hell not? Like Shelly Banks, who was on maternity leave. Rumour had it, Shelly like me, was a bookkeeper. Six months in and was on top. Someone, “a mentor” was behind her success. She got married and got knocked up, that was two years ago. There weren’t many senior female employees at this firm; there were some, but I counted them and there were more men. You’d think in the modern world women were equal to men. But we have wombs, we could get pregnant for opening our legs. Unlike Robert here, there was no maternity leave. He got to keep the girlfriend and his piece on the side. The world is and will always be an unfair, shitty place.

  ‘Good morning,’ I said.

  ‘Get me a cup of coffee when you’re settled,’ he ordered.

  I looked at him over my shoulder and his eyes were lingering on my bottom. His hands wanted to grope my arse and I could tell him to stop looking at me like that, say it was making me uncomfortable but I smile sweetly and say ‘of course’. I wondered if Robert knew about my “incident”. I was kept anonymous, but you never know. If he wanted to look, he would find out it was me. Perhaps he already had. Maybe he knew about Alan too. He could have been an admirer of his music. He was the senior accountant destined for greatness, and he was a man. A big man with the girlfriend, a floozy on the side, and this cockteaser was smiling at him oh so sweetly. Like Alan, he was the king among men and he’d lost nothing! Both men had so much to lose right now only they didn’t know it, but my issue was with only one of them.

  For lunch, I went to the usual café to buy my sandwich, always the same chicken mayo, with a packet of salt and vinegar crisps and an Americano. I didn’t have to tell my order to the barista anymore as they knew it was the same every day. How pathetic could one get, right? You were buried right down at the bottom when the barista knew your order by heart. Always the same sandwich, the same packet of crisps and coffee. I wondered what they thought of me. If they knew my little heart-breaking story. I refused to be a victim. I was a survivor. Well, I was a survivor thanks to Alan. I would have been dead if he hadn’t come in time and saved my life. Alan had to take credit for everything. Yes, I was grateful he saved my life, even so, he was the shittiest man to ever grace this planet. I waited in the queue to place my coffee order. I waited in queues in little cafés while big men like Robert dined in five-star restaurants with clients and partners. The man before me ordered a cappuccino. No food. He was tall, over six feet I noticed, he had short strawberry blond hair and there was something familiar about him. While he waited for his coffee, the girl behind the counter looked at me and punched in my order. The man glanced back and did a double-take. My jaw dropped; it was Greg.