Chapter 5: The Number I Didn't Recognise
I stared at the screen for two full rings.
My husband leaned forward.
"Who is it?"
"I don't know."
I answered.
"Is this Mia's mum?" The voice was young.
A girl.
Nervous, speaking fast.
"Yes.
Who is this?"
"My name's Jade.
I was at your house last night.
I know I shouldn't have been.
I know that.
But I need to tell you something because I don't think Chloe's going to tell the police the truth and someone needs to."
I stood up from the chair.
My husband was already beside me.
"I'm listening, Jade."
"The ring," she said.
"The little white gold one.
I know where it is."
My mouth went dry.
"How do you know about the ring?"
"Because I saw him take it.
I told him to put it back and he laughed at me and I've been sick about it all night.
His name is Ryan.
Ryan Marsh.
He's Chloe's boyfriend.
He organised the whole thing — it wasn't just a party, he'd been planning it for weeks.
He knew your family was going to a wedding.
He knew you'd be gone all day.
Chloe told him everything."
I sat back down.
My legs had made the decision before I did.
"Jade.
Are you safe right now?"
"I'm at home.
Ryan doesn't know I'm calling.
He thinks everyone's going to stay quiet."
"I need you to tell the police what you just told me.
Everything.
Can you do that?"
A pause.
"Will I get in trouble?"
"I don't know," I said.
"But I know that if you don't, someone who deserves to be in trouble won't be.
And that ring belonged to my grandmother."
Silence on the line.
Then: "Okay.
Okay, yes.
I'll talk to them."
I got PC Hartley's number from the card she'd left on the table and read it out slowly.
Jade repeated it back to me twice.
"Thank you," I said.
"I'm sorry," Jade said.
"I'm really sorry.
I didn't know it was going to be like that.
I thought it was just going to be a few people."
The call ended.
My husband was already looking up Ryan Marsh on his phone.
It didn't take long.
Facebook.
Nineteen years old.
A profile photo of him leaning against a car with his arms crossed, grinning.
He scrolled down.
Stopped.
"Look at this."
He turned the screen toward me.
A post from three weeks ago.
Ryan Marsh, tagged at a house party, holding up a woman's necklace toward the camera like a trophy.
The caption said: *found this lol.*
Fourteen people had liked it.
I called PC Hartley.
She answered on the second ring and I told her about Jade, about Ryan Marsh, about the Facebook post.
I heard her writing.
When I finished she said, "This is very helpful.
I'll be in touch within the hour."
I set the phone down on the table.
My husband closed his Facebook tab and put his phone face-down.
"He's done this before," he said.
"That's what it looks like."
We sat in the kitchen, in the quiet, in the wreckage of our own house that we still hadn't finished cleaning.
The pizza box was still by the back door.
One of the cups had left a ring on the counter that was going to need scrubbing.
Mia appeared in the doorway in her socks, tablet under her arm.
"Can I have a snack?"
"Of course," I said, and I got up and got her one, and she climbed onto her chair at the kitchen table and started watching her programme again, completely at ease, and I stood at the counter and watched her and felt something cold and steady settle in my chest.
Ryan Marsh had walked into my house.
He had stood in the same rooms as my daughter.
He had gone through my bedroom and taken something that could not be bought or replaced.
And he had posted a photo of someone else's necklace online three weeks ago and laughed about it.
He thought this was finished.
He was wrong.
My phone lit up on the table.
PC Hartley.
May you like
"We've located Ryan Marsh," she said.
"We're going to him now."
