Chapter 8 Elin

8

Elin

Parque Nacional, Portugal, October 2021

‘So how long has Kier been missing?' Elin asks, following the track up towards the Airstream. The path is well used, the stony surface only punctuated here or there by patches of scrubby grass.

‘That's the thing.' Isaac tugs his water bottle from his pack. ‘She's not actually missing. Not officially, anyway. As far as the police are concerned, she's still travelling. Bank accounts are active, money going in and out. Penn's had messages from her, saying she wants time out. Police have seen them, say there's no evidence of wrongdoing, but he's not convinced.'

‘Was she with anyone when she left? Friends or otherwise?'

Tipping up the water bottle, he takes a long drink. ‘No, and Penn said she split with her ex, Zeph, a few months before she went to Portugal.'

Elin raises an eyebrow. ‘Was it over over?'

‘Penn described it as dead in the water.' Isaac shoves his bottle back in the side pocket of his bag. ‘I did some digging, and definitely looks that way. He's a chef, was a bit of a name for a while in the US. From what I could see, after they split, he went back to New York, picked up his old life. '

‘Bad breakup?'

‘Not really. Sounds like they drifted apart, then Kier pretty much ghosted him. Penn reckons she's done it before. Gets cold feet, doesn't want to commit.'

Elin looks across the valley to the swath of forest tracking up to the peaks behind, thin trails of cloud hovering above. The village, crouched at the foothill of the first mountain, looks impossibly small.

For a moment, she imagines an alternate reality. Her ex, Will, here with them. Every step would bring a photo, ideas about what he could pull into projects at his architecture practice.

Stopping short, she blinks. Will's no longer hers, hasn't been for several months.

The idea stings. It's something she's still struggling with – letting go.

Sometimes she wonders if she's moved on at all, if all she's done is replace Will with the idea of Will, using that as much of a reassurance as his presence itself. Thinking about calling him. Imagining the sound of his voice.

Their split had come off the back of her last case. It felt right at the time, but when doubts creep in, like now, all she feels is a crushing sense of loss. Will had been there for so many things, seismic things – the implosion of her career, her crippling panic attacks, her mother's death. He'd always been her anchor, and without him, sometimes it feels like she's floundering.

It's frightening, starting again, when all around her people are moving on. Marriage. Kids. Friends tell her it will work out, that she'll meet someone, but Elin's beginning to question not only whether she even wants another relationship, but whether someone will like her for who she really is – especially when sometimes she struggles to answer that herself.

This past year, she's come to realise how much she's always worn a mask, not just with other people, but with herself. Now she's on her own, that mask off, every day she learns something new about who she is as a person.

The path steepens .

They're only a few hundred metres from the top of the hill, the three Airstreams now fully visible, positioned along the ridge.

Elin's eyes lurch behind them, expecting something, but she's not sure what. Some sort of life, maybe, but there's nothing. They'll be alone up there.

She drags her gaze away. ‘So has Kier got form for taking off?'

‘Apparently so. Family history … it's rough. Both parents dead.' He pauses, thinking. ‘Penn said it affected them differently. All he wanted to do was settle down but she had itchy feet, wanted to travel.'

‘So why does Penn think anything's happened to her? Sounds more plausible that she's taking time out.'

‘From her twin?'

‘It's possible. She might have stuff going on she doesn't want him to know about. Sometimes it's hard for people to understand that even when you're close to someone, they don't tell you everything.'

‘Maybe.' Isaac shrugs. ‘But Penn says they always spoke regularly. It hasn't happened for a while. He's pretty certain that she wouldn't go off-grid.'

‘When did Kier first come out here?'

‘The end of 2018. Penn said it was pretty weird from the off. The minute she arrived, she seemed … cagey. Didn't share stuff like she normally did.'

‘At what point did he start getting worried?'

‘About a year after that. He didn't like that she hadn't moved on, never wanted to speak any more, started being vague about what she was up to.'

‘But you said she's been in contact in other ways?'

‘Yeah, but only messages, and he reckons they don't sound like her. He got one a few weeks ago, supposedly from Italy, but it felt off, like someone else was writing them.' Isaac shrugs. ‘I get it. Even now, with you, I'd know how you write. The last time he got a photo was when she was here, in the park.'

‘So who saw her at the camp?' They round the bend, the path turning back on itself as they climb the final stretch to the plateau.

‘A hiker.' Isaac puts his bottle away. ‘Due diligence on Penn's part. Kier doesn't do social media, but when the police here wouldn't play ball, Penn ended up tracking down some hikers via Instagram, different hashtags of the park. It took him a while, but he messaged everyone who'd been in the area when he'd last spoken with her, see if they picked up on anything untoward. Had a few time wasters, then a guy got in touch, said he'd stumbled across a campsite, and something strange happened. He couldn't link it to Kier directly, but he got the impression that the group was hiding something.'

‘Like what?'

‘He thought the site was public, but when he tried to stop here, he got short shrift. On his way out, one of the group came after him, accused him of invading their privacy. Apparently, they ended up knocking his phone out of the hand.'

She can picture it, Elin thinks, chilled. A group like that, closing ranks, turning sour.

‘This guy wasn't even taking a photo, but it made him suspicious, you know? So he finds a spot where he can take one. Sees nothing awry and thinks nothing of it until Penn gets in touch. He sent Penn the photos he took and that's when Penn spotted Kier's van in the background. He ended up flying out here and going to the camp himself.'

‘I'm guessing the welcome he got from the camp was equally warm?' Fine wisps of cloud have appeared, the sky fading to a bluish haze.

‘Actually, no. Sounds like he was polite, took it carefully, and they responded in kind. Penn showed them the photograph, asked if they'd seen Kier. They said yes, explained that she'd stayed with them for a few days and then moved on.'

‘Did they mention where Kier went after that?'

‘They said she talked about Italy, which tied in with the messages Penn got.'

‘And there was no sign of her van when he came to look?'

Isaac shakes his head.

‘So chances are she did leave. All sounds plausible. '

‘It does, but then, a few months ago, he found this photo online. A photo a hiker had tagged of the park.' He tips the screen of his phone. ‘It was taken a few months after the first. Her van was still there.'

The hairs on her arms stand to attention. ‘Not exactly someone passing through.'

‘Yeah, the van was still there, so the whole few days line the camp gave—'

‘Was a lie.'