The Abduction - Book 1

Rosilyn George is a girl who is described by the people she knows as 'analytical minded.' That's why when her sister Cameron's friend goes missing one night, she agrees to help the case. But little does she know that she's entering a whole wad of trouble...

Book 1 out of 3 in the Rosilyn George Abduction Series.

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5. Rosilyn George is on the case!

Chapter 3 – Rosilyn George is on the case

We finally made it to the top of the stairs, after avoiding the fresh gum littered onto the floor. Before we even got a chance to knock the door it swung open, to reveal a short, frail woman with vibrant hair and a tissue in her hand. She wore a faded blue tee and jogging bottoms that revealed her dirty, uncared-for feet. When she saw Cameron she smiled, looking at her from top to bottom. Then she examined me and Evie, before stepping aside and letting us into the apartment.

“My name’s Rosilyn and this is my friend Evie,” I say.

“Pleased to meet you. Settle down.”

It was an extraordinary place. I had never seen anywhere like it. The O’Sullivans had definitely tried their best to make this place home, despite its never-ending flaws. The damp patches on the ceiling were covered with pieces on cloth, so when you looked up at it you could see random patches of colour. They had a sofa, but there were so many holes in it that the springs were easily visible, so it had been covered with a large pink mattress. The walls were odd colours and long beaded friendship bracelets hung from each doorway to make up for doors (Cameron had always wanted one of those). To sum it up, the O’Sullivans’ house wasn’t exactly average, but I liked it.

“Do sit down,” said the lady who welcomed us in.

“Mrs. O’Sullivan?” I asked anxiously.

“Oh yes,” she replied. “But just call me Edith. Tea, anyone?”

After sitting down and drinking our tea, Mrs. O’Sullivan introduced us to her husband and two other children.

“The older one’s Marigold and the younger one’s Leon. They would have loved to have Cassia around, bless the poor souls.” Mrs. O’Sullivan wiped a tear from her eye.

“Well,” said Evie, in an attempt to save the conversation. “I’m sure the police will find Cassia soon.”

“The police,” said her husband, whose name I recall was Nicholas. He snorted. “There’s a laugh.”

The three of us exchanged glances and then turned to Mr. O’Sullivan.

“Look,” he said. “The police came round last night to ask me and Edith some questions about Cassia. Then they told us that our case is not a priority.”

“But…but it has to be!” I demanded angrily. “The poor girl could be anywhere right now! Why isn’t it a priority?”

Mrs. O’Sullivan forced her tears back and looked me in the eye.

“The story is apparently going to get a lot of attention with the press. They say that they don’t want to solve the case immediately because they want to keep the public on their toes. It’s….it’s so unfair!”

Mrs. O’Sullivan broke into sobs again and leant on her husband, who stroked her hair. The two kids were playing and rolling about on the floor in front of us. What a family, I thought. Falling apart in front of us.

“That’s horrid,” retorted Evie. Imagine how many poor kidnapping cases have gone unresolved because of this scandal!”

Mr. O’Sullivan continued the story. “Then they said that it is most likely Cassia is dead. If she really was a loving and caring girl she wouldn’t run away or do anything like that. We know our Cassia.”

“Why would she want to run away anyway?” blurted Evie, but then looked around her. Found the evidence, Sherlock?

Mrs. O’Sullivan saw her looking. “It’s a real dump, isn’t it? We’ve done our best to provide for our children, but they hate it. So does the public. Three people came to the street to put flowers outside the apartment, but ran away in fear of the neighborhood. What kind of parents are we?”

Mr. O’Sullivan diverted the topic. “We’re looking at hiring a private detective to solve the case for us, but as you can probably tell, we’re broke. Now there’s no way we will find Cassia.”

Mrs. O’Sullivan sighed and stared out of the window. Who could help this poor family? Nowhere to go, no-one to turn to…

Cameron giggled. “Rosilyn can solve cases,” she said.

All eyes turned to me. I had to defend myself.

“Yeah, really tiny ones. I’ve never actually solved something as big as this…”

This was true. In kindergarten, a boy set off a stink bomb in class and I came to a conclusion as to who did it. If you must know, I was right (a boy called Toby) and my reception teacher called me ‘Analytical Minded’. Since then I’ve always been the one to call when it comes to ‘who’s been doodling on the whiteboard’ and ‘who took the cheese from the fridge.’ But not these cases. No way.

Mrs. O’Sullivan looked adamant. “We need all the help we can get. Even I and Nicholas have tried looking at the tiniest of clues, such as the path she was meant to take on her journey home that night, and we couldn’t find anything. We need help from anyone who thinks they know what they are talking about. And if you can do this, you’re our only hope.”

Mr. O’Sullivan nodded in agreement. Evie looked at me, astonished. Was I ready for this? To secretly confide into solving the mystery of a lost little girl?

Then I looked at Cameron. Cassia was her friend – who knows how Cameron will need her help in the future? Then I looked at the O’Sullivans. Their family was tearing apart, living on benefits, scraping just to afford someone to find their daughter.

I couldn’t let that happen.

“You have my word,” I finally said.

“Rosilyn George is on the case.”

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