The Smiths

‘I contacted him,’ Kieran whispered in my ear. ‘He’s familiar with the locals.’ ‘Mr Valentine?’ The police officer stepped forward, both hands outstretched. Kieran nodded and shook his hand. ‘Officer Murphy, thanks for taking the time.’ ‘No problem.’ The officer couldn’t be older than twenty, twenty-one. There was a noticeable layer of peach fuzz on his deeply tanned face. He flashed a shy smile at me. I was too nervous to return the gesture. ‘I was kind of getting worried,’ he said to Kieran. ‘The village is so remote. Most first-time visitors get lost.’ ‘We managed to find it okay,’ Kieran said. ‘I wonder if there’s anything more you can tell us about Bridget Smith.’ I tensed at the mention of the name. The woman could be my birth mother. The young officer led the way down a dirt road. ‘To be honest, not much, since I was assigned to the local precinct less than six months ago. But I can give you a rundown from the file.’ Kieran nodded. ‘It started with a prison breakout. Twenty-six