Stacey stepped out of the taxi in front of a red-brick semi-detached property that had a small box porch on the front.

She’d lied when she’d told Penn she was heading to Sedgley to check CCTV. Although she could access and request CCTV from her own office, the Dudley Council control room was located at the rear of Sedgley station. And she was in Sedgley, almost.

His slight nod had confirmed that he’d heard but she didn’t much care. She’d been desperate to escape his presence. He was an alien being in her familiarity. Like something out of place in her home or when a fly landed in her diet Coke. It was an annoyance staring her right in the face.

She adjusted her satchel and approached the door feeling guilty but unsure why. She’d been given the case in the first place, so it wasn’t like she was doing anything wrong. They all worked for West Midlands Police, she reasoned, choosing to forget that she’d had to give it back and that her boss was investigating a brutal murder.

The word that came to mind for the woman who opened the door was tidy. Her petite frame was clothed in straight leg jeans and a V-neck jumper. A thin chain rested on her breastbone and a watch was the only other jewellery she wore.

‘Mrs Ryan, may I come in?’ Stacey asked, showing her identification, despite the fact they’d met the previous day at Sedgley.

‘Have you found her?’ the woman asked, answering Stacey’s first question. Evidently, she had not yet come home.

Stacey quickly shook her head.

The woman deflated before her eyes.

Stacey followed her through to a spacious kitchen diner with the overwhelming stench of bleach. Stacey just about stopped herself from coughing as the smell crept into her lungs.

‘She’s been gone more than twenty-four hours now. I don’t understand how you haven’t found her. How many officers do you have out there looking for her?’

Oh, that one question prompted so many things she wasn’t in a position to explain. The first being that Jessie was the third fifteen-year-old in a week to be reported missing at Sedgley, an indicator of just how many missing persons were reported to the police. Extensive resources were not available to throw at every report, especially when both of the others had been located by their parents within forty-eight hours. The same result was expected for Jessie, and so the decision to treat Jessie Ryan as a low priority case when the girl was a few days away from her sixteenth birthday and there was no evidence of foul play was not something she could reveal to the worried mother. Neither could she reveal that Jessie’s two previous runaway incidents did nothing to escalate the priority. And best not to mention the fact she was no longer assigned to the case at all.

‘Mrs Ryan, could you just take me through what happened again?’

‘But I told you everything yesterday. I don’t understand what more I can say.’

Stacey nodded as she took out her notebook. ‘I know it’s frustrating for you but one of the many steps we take is to revisit the information to see if there are any details you might have remembered, however small, and I promise it’ll just take a minute.’

‘Please, sit,’ Mrs Ryan said, pointing to a round table.

Stacey did so, popping her satchel onto the ground.

‘Go ahead, Mrs Ryan,’ Stacey urged with the feeling she’d just dodged a bullet.

‘Jessie asked after lunch if she could go to Emma’s in the evening. I said yes, but Philip wanted her to clean her room first. She appeared at about seven with her coat on. She hadn’t cleaned her room, so there was a bit of a row before—’

‘Between Jessie and her father?’ Stacey asked. She didn’t recall this being mentioned the previous day.

‘Philip’s not her father,’ Mrs Ryan reminded her. ‘Although he may as well be. He’s been in her life since she was six.’

Stacey’s antenna reacted to this new information.

‘How serious was the argument?’ she asked.

‘It was nothing really. Just words, things said in anger. They clash a bit but it always calms down in the end.’

‘Do they argue a lot, Mrs Ryan?’ Stacey asked. It could explain Jessie deciding to go to ground if she needed time to cool off.

‘Sometimes,’ she admitted. ‘They’re so alike even though there’s no genetic link between them. They both have the same fiery temper.’

‘And do these arguments ever get physical?’ Stacey felt obliged to ask.

‘What do you mean by physical?’ Mrs Ryan asked, colouring.

So, the answer was yes.

‘You tell me,’ Stacey said.

‘Pushing and shoving. A slap once, but that’s been a while ago now. Jessie can be a handful at times.’

Stacey tried to stop the disapproval showing on her face.

‘He’s a good man,’ the woman said, as though Stacey’s silence had judged her.

Any man or woman laying a hand on a child of hers would have been booted out of the house with no more than the clothes on their back.

‘Mrs Ryan, please be honest. Was it similar incidents to the one on Sunday that prompted Jessie’s previous disappearances?’

Mrs Ryan hesitated and then nodded.

It appeared there was a great deal the couple had forgotten to mention when she’d taken their report.

‘What happened next?’ she asked.

‘Jessie left in a huff; Philip went out for a beer to calm down. He came home about nine, and Jessie was due back at ten.’

‘Did you try and phone her?’ Stacey asked.

‘Voicemail every time,’ she answered.

‘And when you came into the station yesterday morning at ten, Jessie had been missing for approximately twelve hours,’ Stacey clarified.

Once she’d taken the report from Mrs Ryan the previous day, she’d only had the chance to check Jessie’s social media accounts for activity before being recalled to her own team in Halesowen.

‘Yes, we waited because we thought she was just in a mood, that she was cooling down after her argument with her stepdad. And we were ringing around her friends the whole time,’ Mrs Ryan explained.

‘And what did her friend Emma say when you spoke to her?’

‘That Jessie had left at nine forty-five as normal. It’s only a few streets away,’ she added, defensively.

Stacey wasn’t here to pass judgement on the woman’s parenting skills. Right now, her only concern was Jessie Ryan’s safety.

‘I think that girl knows more than she’s saying,’ Mrs Ryan offered.

‘You mean Emma Weston?’

‘Yes, they’ve known each other since junior school but they’ve been best friends for a few years now. Bad influence if you ask me but Jessie won’t be told.’

‘“Bad influence”?’ Stacey asked.

Mrs Ryan nodded. ‘To be honest, Jessie changed after they started spending more time together. Started answering back and being cheeky, especially to Philip,’ she explained.

‘Is there any boyfriend in the picture?’ Stacey asked.

Mrs Ryan shook her head. ‘No, Jessie’s too young for anything like that.’

Maybe a hundred years ago, Stacey thought to herself. She made a note on her pad to ask Emma the same question. In Stacey’s mind there was a world of difference between just gone fifteen and almost sixteen, and if Jessie hadn’t got a boyfriend in her past or present she’d be very surprised. Although not as surprised as her mother by the looks of it.

‘And her father?’ Stacey asked.

‘Philip is her—’

‘Her biological father,’ Stacey clarified, although Mrs Ryan knew exactly what she was talking about. ‘Does Jessie see him?’

‘No. Never,’ she said, vehemently.

‘You’re sure?’ Stacey asked.

‘She doesn’t know him, officer. He walked out on us when she was four years old. He had no interest in being a father. Oh, it was fine when she was healthy but at the first sign of illness there were skid marks in the road. He’s never made any effort to get in touch or support her in any way. As I said, Philip is her father.’

Stacey didn’t push the point but she had to rule out his involvement.

‘If I could just take his address before I go,’ Stacey said.

‘Of course but you’ll get no joy there. Probably doesn’t even remember he had a daughter.’

Stacey ignored the bitterness in her tone as the woman grabbed a notepad and pencil from the kitchen drawer.

‘Okay, Mrs Ryan. Well, thank you for your time. If you hear anything at all from Jessie, give me a call,’ she said, reaching for the piece of paper.

Mrs Ryan grabbed her hand. ‘I hope you find her soon, officer,’ she said, tremulously as tears began to form in her eyes. ‘I don’t know how much more worry I can take before I lose my mind,’ she said, glancing towards a corner of the kitchen.

Stacey followed her gaze to a collection of pill bottles and medicines.

‘Those are Jessie’s?’ Stacey asked, incredulously, wondering why the woman had not mentioned the medication the previous day.

Stacey gently pulled her hand away from the woman’s grip.

Mrs Ryan dabbed at her eyes and nodded. ‘That’s why I’m so worried, officer. I know she’s almost sixteen but she’s still my baby. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. I just…’

‘Mrs Ryan, is your daughter’s health in jeopardy?’ Stacey asked.

This information put a whole new light on Jessie being just a routine runaway.

More tears forced their way from her eyelids and rolled over her cheeks.

‘Absolutely, officer, without her medication, there’s a good chance my daughter could die.’