Mortal Crimes: 7 Novels of Suspense (77 page)

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Authors: J Carson Black,Melissa F Miller,M A Comley,Carol Davis Luce,Michael Wallace,Brett Battles,Robert Gregory Browne

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Crime

BOOK: Mortal Crimes: 7 Novels of Suspense
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“You shouldn’t have run. Now I have no choice.”

“Yes, you do. Everyone has choices.” She tried to reason her way to survival. Right then she would have done just about anything to save her life. “Please, I have money, savings in the bank. Take it. Have it all… but please don’t hurt me.” Saltiness from her tears slipped into the corner of her mouth.

“I don’t want your money. I wanted
you
.”

“Then have me. We’ll go away together. You scared me. That’s why I ran. Please, give me another chance. I won’t mess up again. I swear.” Her words forced confusion to travel across his face.

Is he debating setting me free?
“We’ll be good together, once I get to know you properly. It takes me a little while to get used to people. Please give me that chance.”

The confusion gave way to anger. His eyes creased up until they formed tiny slits in his tanned face, and his lip curled with intent. “If I set you free now, you’ll only run to the police and give me away.”

“I won’t. I promise. Give me a chance. Give
us
a chance,” she implored, desperation lacing her words.

“You had your chance. Nobody makes a fool out of me. Many women have tried before, seen me as some kind of joke, to their cost. I thought you were different, but when it comes down to it, you’re all the same. Full of your own self-importance. Preening yourself to attract us men. Then, when you’ve snared us, you cast us away like a used tampon.”

She had never thought of herself in that way and really wanted to challenge him. However, she was conscious that would only make matters worse. She turned her head to the side and mumbled an apology.

His hand shot out and clasped her throat. “What did you say?”

He had cut off her airway, so she couldn’t speak even if she wanted to. She could feel the air disappearing and felt light-headed as his grip tightened. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her family’s faces filled her oxygen-starved mind.
Bye, Mum, Dad, and Cheryl. I’ll never be able to share good news with you all again. Please don’t grieve much for me. Go on with your lives. Never let the bitterness of what he’s about to do to me destroy your lives like he’s destroying mine. I love you all… until the end.

He let go of her throat, and she gulped air as if it were an endangered commodity.

He held her hand in his, touched it affectionately to his cheek, then looked her in the eye as he crushed her fingers between his. She’d never felt so much pain in her life, and she screamed until her voice dried up.

“Scream all you want, bitch. No one will hear your desperate cries out here.”

She sobbed and whispered through dry lips, “Get it over with. Kill me.”

“Oh, I will. Not yet, I intend to make you suffer first. This is just the beginning of what I have in store for you, bitch.”

He stood up and towered over her. Her gaze remained focused on the tree stump opposite. She could make out, formed in its bark, her mother’s beautiful smiling face, giving her the courage to be brave. When she looked around, she realised that he’d vanished, leaving her alone and vulnerable to the four-legged creatures of the forest. The sobs came and increased in tempo as she came to the conclusion that even though he hadn’t killed her, it wouldn’t be long before she died a horrible death out there. Alone.

Lost deep in thought, she neglected to hear his return. She jumped when he taunted her with his vile words.

“Say your prayers, bitch.” Something glinted in his hand, and her eyes opened wide before the object sank deep into her flesh. “Your life is about to end.”

She tried to scream, but her voice box proved to be raw and uncooperative. The third time he struck her, she drifted into a welcome unconsciousness. The blackness surrounding her quickly gave way to the brightest light she’d ever witnessed. She moved towards it and breathed a sigh of relief.
I’ve arrived… He can no longer hurt me.

 

CHAPTER ONE

“Crap! Never again.”

Ellen Brazil eased her way out of the double bed she had found herself in and glanced down at the stranger she’d obviously spent the night with. Her head felt as though it belonged to someone else. Why had she gone to that damn party? Why had she touched that bowl of punch? Ellen had neither the stomach nor the head to be a heavy drinker. She’d once been tipsy after a schooner of sherry at her aunt’s wedding, during her teens. She glanced at the mirror in the bedroom. Her pale, messy reflection stared back at her, instantly reminding her why she usually left the dreaded drink alone.

She gingerly stooped down to gather her clothes, then went in search of the bathroom. After throwing cold water over her mascara-stained face, she dressed and tiptoed along the hallway in search of the front door. She had no idea where she was going and somehow ended up back in the bedroom. She eyed the stranger with curiosity for a second or two, wondering if they had done the deed the previous evening. He was lying face down, and from what she could tell, he had a fit body, one that most women would be happy waking up next to in the morning. Unexpectedly, one of his eyes opened.

“Morning.” He sat up and stretched, showing off his waxed chest and pronounced ribs and giving her a glimpse that he was naked beneath the quilt.

“Er… morning. Sorry, didn’t… mean to wake you,” she stuttered, gazing into his chestnut eyes.

He patted the bed beside him. “Join me for an encore.”

Crap! So I did do the dirty with him.

Her cheeks flared, and she shook her head. “Sorry. Which way do I go to get out of here?” She glanced down at her watch and twisted her mouth. “I’m running late for work.”

He winked at her. “Of course you are. I’ll tell you the way if you promise to give me your number. Last night was fun. I’d like to repeat it someday.”

Crap and double crap!
She opened her handbag and pulled out a business card. Not the way a normal person ended a date, she knew, but it would have to suffice for now. All she wanted to do was get out of there, sharpish.

He took the card from her grasp and read it with interest. “Missing Persons Hotline. Intriguing. When can I see you again?”

“I really have to fly. I have an important meeting with a client at nine. Ring me in a few days, and we’ll arrange something, okay?”

She wasn’t prepared for what he did next, and her mouth flew open. He leapt out of bed, naked, and pulled on a towelling robe that was hooked over the open wardrobe door. He turned to look at her and teased, “I’ve never had that kind of reaction from a girl before.”

She clamped her mouth shut. “I’m sorry. I really need to go.”

“This way.” He led her out into the hallway and towards the front door. He held it open and leaned forward, expecting a kiss.

She pecked him on the cheek and rushed out onto a concrete landing.

She looked back, and he was laughing. “Are you sure you’ll be all right getting home? I could drive you.”

“No thanks. I’ll get a taxi.” She rushed down the graffiti-strewn stairwell and out into the estate car park. She wouldn’t usually have been seen dead in an estate so rundown.
Shit! How the hell did that happen?
Despite the pain in her head, she jogged to the nearest corner, in search of a passing taxi. Almost five minutes passed before she reached a main road, where she managed to locate one. She gave the driver the address to her office unit and sat back. Ellen found herself trying to remember what had happened the previous evening, but she still came up blank. The cab pulled up outside the small unit. She paid the driver and dug into her bag for the keys to the office. She opened the door and closed it behind her.

“Wow! Look what the cat dragged in. ‘Dragged in’ being the operative word.”

“Shut up! Don’t even ask. I’m going to grab a shower and get changed. Be a love and make me a coffee, will you?” Ellen asked her amused partner, Brian. She swept between their two desks and out into the small bathroom at the rear.

Around five minutes later, after braving an extremely tepid shower, she emerged and dried her long red hair with the dryer.

Brian was sitting at his desk, with his arms folded, waiting for her to fill him in.

How can I do that when I don’t have a clue what went on last night?
“Don’t ask,” she repeated.

His laughter filled the tiny office and reverberated around her aching head. She opened her desk drawer and pulled out a packet of pain-relief tablets. Knocking two back with her lukewarm coffee, she made a face as the tablets stuck in her throat. She really wasn’t one for popping pills willy-nilly.

“What’s on the agenda for today then, Brian?”

“I thought I might tweak the website. It doesn’t seem to be getting that much traffic.”

“Good idea. I’ll finish updating the paperwork on the recently completed cases.”

Brian was a computer wizard who handled the administrative side of the business, while Ellen handled the enquiries and investigative side of things. They made a good team. They had met while on the Midlands police force. Both of them had quickly become disillusioned in their roles, frustrated by the direction the force was heading. So they decided to put their heads together and come up with a business that they thought would be in great demand because so many people went missing nowadays, for one reason or another. Ellen wanted to help reunite people with their loved ones or, in some cases, offer closure so that suffering families could get on with their own lives. Hence, the Worcester Missing Persons Hotline was formed.

The national bureau’s website consisted of thousands of images of individuals, young and old, who were listed as missing. But the National Missing Persons Bureau was usually inundated with cases, which meant it was limited in what it could do. There was the matter of funding, too. Brian and Ellen’s missing persons hotline firm differed in that people were prepared to pay for their professional service. Ellen and Brian occasionally hooked up with members of the national team and shared information. In the two years since WMPH had formed, they had built up an excellent reputation.

Thankfully, Ellen’s headache wore off halfway through the morning, which was a good job because Brian started cheering that he’d had a eureka moment around about the same time.

“I’ve cracked it,” he said, spinning round and round in his chair.

“Stop that. You’re making me bloody dizzy. What have you cracked?”

Ellen left her desk and walked two steps to stand beside his. He pointed at the computer screen. She wasn’t that interested in computers and had no idea how they translated data. He started bombarding her with details of codes he had entered and lost her as soon as he began. She raised a hand to stop him. “Forget all that crap. Just tell me the end product.”

“You’re such a dinosaur when it comes down to it, aren’t you?”

She shrugged and gave him an embarrassed smile. “What can I say? You’ve got your interests, and I’ve got mine.”

“Yeah, by the looks of things, yours is partying till all hours and coming to work hungover.”

She clipped him on the head. “Enough Ellen bashing. What have you done? In basic English, if you would?”

“All right. I’ve tweaked the website, made it more user-friendly and accessible to the general public.”

“Is that it?” she said disappointedly. “All that excitement for
that
?”

The phone on her desk started ringing. Ellen answered it and tried not to smirk at her partner as his jaw dropped open.

“Worcester Missing Persons Hotline. How can I help?”

“Er… I need help.”

“That’s what we’re here for, sir, to help. Can I have your name?”

“Sorry. It’s Will… William Endersbe.”

“Okay, Will. How can we help you today?”

The man breathed in heavily and then let it out before he answered. “My wife’s gone missing.”

“Ah, I see. Any possible reason why?”

“Not that I know of, no. I went away for a week, and when I came back, she’d gone.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Did she pack her suitcases and leave?” Ellen heard the phone clatter on the table, then silence. She remained on the line, thinking that the man must have gone to his wife’s wardrobe to check. In her experience, not everyone thought of doing that right away.

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