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D For Dead
Author: Keri Beevis

Prologue

 

 

She screamed, the sound thundering in her ears as she ran up the stairs, heart pounding, threatening to jump into her mouth.

He was behind her, the clip of his boots hitting the stone steps, and she knew he was close.

Don’t let him catch me. Don’t let him catch me.

Into the kitchen, the room lit by a dull bare bulb, round the heavy oak table. The toe of her sneaker caught the leg of a chair and she stumbled briefly, the clatter of wood hitting the floor sounded as it fell behind her. It would delay him by maybe a second if she was lucky.

Into the hall, towards the safety of the front door.

Please let it open.

She heard his raspy breathing. Knew if he caught her he would take her back down to the basement. She couldn’t go down there again, ever.

Her hand grabbed the door handle, yanked it hard, and relief flickered through her as it opened.

Behind her the man grunted and lunged, his fingers skimming her hair, and then she was down the porch step and into the front yard.

‘Come back here, you little bitch!’

He sounded mad as hell.

Although he was still behind her, she was younger, smaller, faster.

Up ahead the blackness of the woods waited to immerse her. If she could make it to their safety there was a chance she could lose him.

The wind had picked up, rattling the chains of the rusted old swing. Twigs snapped beneath her feet. She was aware of both sounds, though neither drowned out the thundering fear in her head. Her breath was ragged, but still she ran, the adrenaline carrying her.

She thought of the twins. They had left her behind and were probably long gone. She was all alone.

She had to run faster. She had to get away. Her life depended on it.

Into the woods, the thick branches overhead blocking out any light from the moon. Her eyes not yet accustomed, she could barely see three feet ahead, but still she ran, no idea where she was heading, knowing she had to get away.

Behind her he stumbled, cursing as he hit the ground. She ran faster.

The basement. So much blood.

He wouldn’t give up trying to catch her. She had seen and he knew she would tell. He would do whatever was necessary to make sure she didn’t tell.

All around her the trees swayed and whispered. Her foot caught a loose branch and she tripped. Unable to catch herself, she rolled head first down a steep bank, landing uncomfortably in a pile of bushes. Heart in her mouth, she tried to pick herself up. Prickling leaves dug into her back and her ankle throbbed from where it had caught the branch. She knew she had to go, and quickly, but movement was difficult. From overhead came the sound of footsteps crunching twigs.

He’s going to find me.

She lay as still as she could, desperately trying to control her panting breath. It was pitch black in the woods. Maybe he hadn’t heard her fall. If she was lucky he wouldn’t see her.

The seconds ticked by, each one dragging. There was more rustling from above, then the sound of footsteps again, this time growing distant.

He had gone.

She let out a low shaky breath, still not daring to move. He was not going to give up looking for her and the slightest sound could alert him to where she was. She thought back to the basement, to what had happened, to what she had seen, allowing it to fully sink in for the first time. What would have happened had she not run?

Gagging, she rolled on to her side and threw up into the bush. Backhanding spit from her mouth, she glanced warily around.

Had he heard?

There was no sound other than the whispering trees and her ragged breathing.

Gingerly she rolled over and started to crawl out of the bushes, knowing she had to get out of there before he came back. Climbing to her feet, she put pressure on her ankle, knowing before the blast of shooting pain she had sprained it or worse. Grimacing, she felt her way through the branches trying to find a path.

Behind her came a crunch.

Him!

Choking down on a sob, she thrashed her way madly through the trees, ignoring the white-hot pain each time her busted ankle hit the ground. In the distance she heard the low roar of an engine. A car? Was she near a road? Forcing herself forward, she could make out the low beam of headlights ahead. Behind her, rough hands grabbed at her wrist, yanking her back. She yelped, kicking out and managing to wrench herself free. Dragging her bad ankle behind her she stumbled forward through the trees to the road she could now see ahead. Missing her footing on the embankment, she tripped again, this time falling into the road and straight into the path of the oncoming car. The last thing she was aware of was the thud as her body hit the front grille.

 

 

From the darkness of the trees the man watched as the car skidded to a halt in front of the limp body lying in the road.

The problem had taken care of itself.

A grim smile playing on his lips he turned and started to make his way back through the trees.

He needed to get back to the house, back to his work, and he didn’t want to keep his other guest waiting.

 

 

1

 

 

Tired from her bar shift, Amy Gallaty cursed herself for the hundredth time for agreeing to babysit her friend’s dog. She could hear Huckleberry’s pitiful whining the second the elevator opened on her floor and was almost sent flying as she opened her apartment door.

It was gone two, her shift had been long, and she wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed. She doubted Huckleberry would make it through till morning without needing to empty his bladder though and so reluctantly she fetched the leash. Ten minutes round the block and she’d be done.

Spotting the leash, Huckleberry let out a joyful bark.

‘Hush!’

The disobedient collie gave her a lopsided grin and started panting with excitement as she hooked it on to his collar. Amy made a mental note to have words with Ryan about taking his pooch on a training course when he returned from Europe.

Although the night was warm, she was dismayed to feel a few spits of rain as they exited the apartment building.

Typical.

Huckleberry’s ten-minute walk around the block was about to get cut to a quick stroll to the end of the street. Willing him to hurry up and pee, Amy hurried along behind him, oblivious to the pair of eyes watching her from the car parked across from her apartment.

 

 

Victor Boaz finished his shift at eleven and instead of sensibly heading straight home to bed, he had been persuaded by a couple of the other officers to join them for a beer.

It was a foolish move. Pastor Ralph had finally agreed to let him help set up before Sunday service and he was supposed to be at the church early the next morning.

He had been trying to get in on this gig for ages and didn’t want to screw it up. This was his big chance to impress Brooke Michaels. So far she had been friendly but had kept her distance. When she saw how seriously he was taking this church stuff and helping her dad, maybe she would finally agree to go out with him. As for Pastor Ralph, Vic was sure he would approve of him dating his daughter. Vic was a police officer who had embraced his religious side. What was there not to like?

It was almost two when he finally left the bar. Although he had only had one beer, he’d got caught up shooting the breeze, flirting with the new barmaid and playing pool with the guys. He gave a couple of them a lift home and was swinging his car around for the journey back to his townhouse, groaning at the time and knowing he was never going to be able to drag himself out of bed in three hours, when he had an idea.

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