by Margaret Mounsdon
Missing!
“I WANT you to track down my sister.” The man spoke with the air of someone who was used to getting his own way.
Millie nearly spilled her coffee. This was not what she had been expecting.
“There has been a misunderstanding, Mr Pendennis. I don’t know what help I can be.
“I’m a house-sitter. Most of my work involves light gardening and watering plants. I’ve never been asked to trace a missing relative!”
“But you are free to undertake this commission, Ms Midwinter? I have a busy day ahead and would like an answer.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to say no.
“How old is your sister?”
“Becky is twenty-nine.”
“Twenty-nine?” Millie repeated, puzzled.
“She is three years older than me and very independent. She won’t thank me for engaging you but I have no choice.”
“I see.” She didn’t.
“I doubt it. Our relationship is . . . complicated.”
Millie studied him. Charlie Pendennis wasn’t handsome exactly but he was attractive. Dark circles under his eyes indicated a lack of sleep, however.
There was something going on here that she wasn’t getting.
“Do you have more questions?” he asked.
Millie forced herself to concentrate.
“Perhaps you could give me some of your sister’s personal details.”
“Certainly.”
“Do you mind if I make notes?”
He nodded. Millie had left in such a hurry she had forgotten to charge her mobile. She found a notepad and rummaged in her bag for a pen.
“Here.” The man produced one displaying a hotel logo. “Use this.”
“Thank you.”
“If you are ready perhaps we can get on.” “I’m ready.” “Right. Questions?” Millie was growing used to his method of delivery and adopted the same.
“When did you last see Becky?”
“About six weeks ago.”
“Can you remember the exact date?”
“No.”
“Why do you think she has disappeared?”
He cast Millie a long-suffering look and spoke slowly as if addressing a child.
“Because I have not seen her.”
Millie was aware she must be careful here. Family situations could be minefields.
“Can you tell me more about your sister?”
“What would you like to know?”
Her attempts to get Charlie Pendennis to open up were not proving easy. She was left no choice but to come out with the burning question hovering on her lips.
“Isn’t Becky capable of looking after herself at the age of twenty-nine?”
Charlie picked up his mug of black coffee then put
