Ian's idea

Ian's Idea: Part.22

Harry's mum grabbed the flowers along with her car keys and fled out the door. Once seated in the car, she came to her senses and phoned her son. When it went to voicemail she felt a surge of anger, which surfaced in a torrent of words, "Look Harry, whatever's going on here I'm not happy! I don't know what these flowers and texts are all about, but I do know you're with two girls who've escaped from a Mental Health Institute–SO– this is a police matter and that's where I'm going now, they'll track your phone and we'll all be with you soon– I'M ANGRY AND DISAPPOINTED IN YOU, HARRY!"

She threw her phone onto the passenger seat and took off down the street, the acceleration abated her anger and she felt determined to make Harry be accountable for getting involved in a police matter and jeopardising his upcoming audition and possible future.

But the light of her phone distracted her from this determination, especially when she caught sight of the despair in Harry's words.

She pulled over to read and reply:

Despite her frustration at Harry's phone dying, his mum composed herself as she tried to quash her fears whilst parking at the edge of the woods. She was ready to face the reality that Harry hot gotten himself into some kind of trouble. She pulled on the hand break and prepared herself for the worst– whatever it was she'd support Harry, as she always had done, unconditionally.

She tried not to imagine possible scenarios as she approached the edge of the woods. Instead, she focussed on getting her boy out of whatever trouble he'd walked into. The growing darkness indicated she'd entered the woodland and as she switched on her phone for light, she realised she'd forgotten something– the flowers.

###

The woman police officer glanced at the clock and sighed with a pleasing realisation– she only had ten minutes before the end of her shift. After a period of relatively mundane cases, the absconded teenagers case had thrown the station into a state of organised chaos. Her bosses, realising it was a publicly sensitive case, wanted it wrapped up quickly and without any adverse publicity for the Mental Health Institute. If possible, they wanted it resolved without releasing pictures of the three youths; in order to decrease the negative impact exposing their identity might have on their fragile mental health.

The policewoman, Stella, switched off her work computer. But she couldn't switch off her mind from the work.

She had a hunch, a niggling gut feeling that this was something more than an escaped kids case. And, she'd seen some of the weird Internet searches Harry's friend, Ian, had made before he committed suicide. BUT – she wanted to know more; thus she'd noted all of Ian's passwords and she drove home with them, determined to search for answers, in her own time and in the comfort of her own home.

###

As Stella showered, she realised something else was drawing her into the case. It was Harry's mum. She'd felt a connection to the woman, and thus her involvement in the case went beyond professional, she felt a personal responsibility to crack the case; for Harry's mum's sake.

Stella dried and dressed in sweat pants and a t-shirt. She switched on her personal laptop and made herself a cup of camomile tea. She placed Ian's passwords on the desk and opened Google. A nervous energy juddered through her, because she knew that what she was doing was outside of her professional protocol, and she could get into trouble for it.

Police personnel mustn't get personally involved in individual cases. But as she hit the 'Search' tab, she knew that was exactly what she was doing– a compulsion compelled her to do it.

Stella couldn't help herself; she had to keep searching– for the truth...