The detective was baffled. He had traced Emily to the Irish ferry, but no one had seen her after disembarking. She seemed to have vanished into Ireland. The body of James Wilkes had been buried in the pauper’s cemetery after his family could not be traced. And Christopher Harrison, usually known as Chris, was nowhere to be found, alive or dead.
He sighed and stretched out his legs at his desk. It had been a long day, chasing after people who disappeared just as you thought you would lay a hand on them.
He sat up quickly as his door opened. A young man came slowly and hesitantly into the room.
“Detective Wilkes?” he asked.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“I know where you can find Chris.”
- Emily: Flawed ( #fiction ) (lizbethsgarden.wordpress.com)
- Emily: The Records ( #fiction ) (lizbethsgarden.wordpress.com)