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odd.’
    Peter nodded.
    The Sheriff continued. ‘Colin didn’t show up for work this morning. Not that I was surprised but I’ve been ringing him all morning and he hasn’t replied. That’s why I came over. I just assumed he ’d be laid in bed nursing a hangover again.’
    Colin worked on the police force under his father-in-law. When Peter had spoken to Colin about this last night it was apparent that the two of them didn’t get along particularly well. Apparently, The Sheriff had told Colin on more than one occasion that he was a ‘stupid lazy bastard’.
    The Sheriff returned to the role of a concerned father for his next question.
    ‘Michelle isn’t answering her phone either. Was she drinking last night?’
    Peter felt uneasy with the interrogative nature of the question, as if he was trying to catch him out.
    ‘No, I think she might have had one glass of wine but that was it.’
    ‘I take it from the mess that you all came back here. What time did you leave them last night?’
    Peter avoided the question.
    ‘We were all at the Oaktree straight after the funeral, and then we came back here.’
    The Sheriff was distracted by the mention of the funeral. He nodded humbly.
    ‘It was very tragic what happened to Gavin. Everyone was very shocked. It’s a shame, he was a good man.’
    The Sheriff didn’t seem noticeably emotional when he spoke and Peter wondered if he even knew Gavin or whether he was merely being polite. He immediately changed the subject.
    ‘Who came back here after the pub?’
    ‘Everyone. Colin, Michelle, me, Cas,’ he paused. ‘I mean Peter Perkins.’
    The Sheriff nodded in recognition of the name.
    Peter continued, ‘Laura O’Connor, Cheryl Stimson and Steve Jenkins.’
    The Sheriff took a second to recall Laura from the past but then nodded again.
    ‘Steven? Steven came back here?’
    ‘Yes,’ Peter responded slightly curious as to the reason why he would single Steve out, as if he was surprised that Steve came back to the house.
    The Sheriff scrolled his finger over his phone again and started ringing someone. He held the phone to his ear, waited for a few seconds and then sighed and hung up.
    ‘Voicemail as well.’
    Peter assumed it was Steve he’d called. The Sheriff stood for a few seconds, obviously having an internal debate.
    ‘Right,’ he said determined, ‘I’m going to try Steven’s house first, the Oaktree pub is on the way so I’ll pop in and see if they’re there. Are you going to join me?’
    Peter felt like it would probably be the best thing to do, as The Sheriff was more likely to find the others and he could then get his wallet, phone and keys and head to the train station. However, the uncomfortable feeling of being around someone who was both a police officer and a parent persisted within him. If he was honest he wanted to be away from The Sheriff’s company as soon as possible, to avoid any further awkward questioning.
    ‘No thank s. I need to catch a train in about an hour so I better wait here in case they turn up whilst you’re out looking for them.’
    ‘Alright then, well hopefully one of us can find them in time for you to get that train back home.’
    ‘Hopefully.’
    ‘If they do come back here tell my daughter to call me straight away.’
    ‘Sure. I will do.’
    The Sheriff walked out of the house and gave Peter some final words.
    ‘You bloody kids, never grow up, always playing games.’
    He continued muttering to himself as he strolled up the path towards his car. Peter stood alone in the living room for a few minutes going over the conversation he’d just had. Numerous questions flashed through his mind, coupled with a dark sense of foreboding as he recounted the day so far.
    He had woken up in a strange cabin in the middle of Durden Woods. He had a gnawing headache and felt like he ’d been drugged. He had returned to Colin and Michelle’s house. Laura’s car was still here so she hadn’t left early like she had planned to.