Wrong Place: A gripping serial killer crime thriller.
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Authors: M A Comley
Wrong Place
M A Comley
New York Times bestselling author M A Comley
Published by M A Comley
Copyright © 2015 M A Comley
Digital Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the site and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
OTHER BOOKS BY
M A COMLEY
Blind Justice
Cruel Justice
Impeding Justice
Final Justice
Foul Justice
Guaranteed Justice
Ultimate Justice
Virtual Justice
Hostile Justice
Tortured Justice
Rough Justice
Dubious Justice
Forever Watching You
Evil In Disguise – Based on True events novel.
Deadly Act (Hero series novella) coming Feb 2015
Torn Apart (Hero Series #1)
End Result (Hero Series #2)
Sole Intention (Intention Series #1)
Grave Intention (Intention Series #2)
Wrong Place (A DI Sally Parker thriller)
Merry Widow (A Lorne Simpkins short story)
It’s A Dog’s Life (A Lorne Simpkins short story)
A Time To Heal (A Sweet Romance)
A Time For Change (A Sweet Romance)
High Spirits
The Temptation Series (Romantic Suspense/New Adult Novellas)
Past Temptation (available now)
Lost Temptation (available now)
True Temptation (Coming 2015)
Just Temptation (Coming 2015)
Keep in touch with the author at
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Mel-Comley/264745836884860
http://melcomleyromances.blogspot.com
This book is dedicated to my rock, Jean, whose love and devotion is my guiding light.
Special thanks to my wonderful editor Stefanie. Thanks also to the members of THE Book Club on Facebook who have allowed me to use their names as character in this book. To my dear friend, Joseph for his input and superb proof reading.
Finally I’d like to thank Karri Klawiter for the superb artwork as always, you’re a very talented lady.
Table of Contents
WRONG PLACE
By M A Comley
Prologue
He watched her serve and flirt with the other customers. Periodically, she flashed him a toothy smile, showing off her flawless white teeth, which glistened under the lights directed at the bar. He returned her smile and added a wink for good measure. He knew women like her wanted to feel special. The pretty woman, who had insisted that he call her Brenda, fluttered her eyelashes at him as colour highlighted her slightly plump cheeks.
Another half an hour, and he would need to be on his way. The question was: had he achieved what he’d set out to do? He received his answer when she topped up his drink. She leaned in close and whispered seductively, “I should be clear of this place in forty-five minutes, Scott.”
He raised an eyebrow and grinned. He was always amused to hear the girls call him Scott. “What are you suggesting?”
“You know. Surely, I don’t have to spell it out for you. You seem an intelligent enough man.”
If only you knew!
He glanced at his wrist and tapped his watch.
“The thing is, I have an early start in the morning. Any chance you can get off sooner?”
Her eyes widened, and she peered over her shoulder at the other staff members, who were milling around or flitting between the bar and the kitchen area. “I’ll see what I can do.” She gave him a wink.
Scott resisted the temptation to punch the air. He placed a hand over Brenda’s as she pushed his pint towards him. “You won’t regret it. You have my word on that. I’ll drink this and wait for you outside in the car park.”
She smiled nervously and withdrew her hand. “Okay. I’ll look forward to that.”
During the next ten minutes, he noticed her clutching first her head, then her stomach. Finally, another barmaid, a motherly looking woman, asked if she was all right.
“Actually, I feel like shit. Not sure I can continue tonight. Do you think Greg would mind if I called it a night? I’ve been tidying up as I go, so there shouldn’t be too much mess to clear up once the final punter goes home.”
“Go on. I’ll cover for you, love. Dan is on nights tonight, anyway, so there’s no need for me to rush home. You should check with Greg first, though.”
Scott had heard enough. He downed the rest of his pint and slipped out of the pub. He moved his car around the corner, out of sight of any cameras, and waited. His palms were greasy with sweat as he anticipated Brenda’s arrival. Five minutes later, she appeared in the doorway of the pub. He thumped his horn once to gain her attention.
Brenda trotted across the pavement to meet him. The engine roared into life as she opened the door and fell into the passenger seat. “Where are we going?” she asked breathlessly.
“I know a nice spot down by the river, or we could go back to my hotel if you like?”
“The river sounds more romantic.” She giggled like an excited teenager.
Scott inserted the CD he’d picked out especially for the trip, and the soothing voice of Luther Vandross filled the car. Brenda leaned back against the headrest and began humming to the tune. Everything was going according to plan.
Ten minutes later, they were parked on the edge of the softly flowing river at Acle, a pretty, touristy site that he knew well. He switched off the engine then twisted in his seat to face her. With his gaze fixed on hers, he unclipped both of their seatbelts and slowly ran his hand up her bare thigh. The way she was dressed and her welcoming smile had attracted him the most at the beginning of the evening.
“Hey, slow down, honey.” She flirtatiously slapped his hand away.
He knew what type of games women liked to play before they spread their legs for him. However, for some reason, he was eager to get down to business. His hand swiftly disappeared up her skirt. She sucked in a startled breath. The whites of her eyes lit up the car. He covered her mouth with his and felt her succumb willingly to the desire he was bestowing upon her.
Scott recognised a go-ahead when he saw it. He climbed across the gear stick and straddled her, pinning her to the seat. She couldn’t object, as his mouth was busy toying with hers. His tongue crept between her gaping lips, and her guttural moan reverberated against his mouth. He knew there was no turning back—this woman was
his
.
She tugged at his shirt, and he did the same to her blouse. The lust-filled frenetic pace of young lovers overtook them. Before long, both of them were naked, no mean feat in the confines of his car.
“You’re beautiful.” He trailed his tongue along her heated flesh. His head spun when she moaned, and her hips gyrated anxiously beneath him.
His hands clasped her throat gently as he took her. Once their rhythm was in sync, his grip tightened, constricting her airway. Brenda tried to push him off, but he was too heavy. She bit the edge of his lip. He cried out, released one of his hands, and slapped her face. Brenda whimpered like a baby in between gasping for breath as his hands tightened around her slim neck again, this time with more intent.
His release came not long after, as did hers, when her life ebbed away beneath his hands.
Scott took a few moments to recover his breath. Then he casually pulled on his clothes, ignoring the lifeless form lying beside him. He started the car and drove a few hundred yards down the road towards what would be the woman’s final place of rest.
CHAPTER ONE
Detective Inspector Sally Parker of the Norfolk Constabulary Police Force drove into work feeling bewildered after the fraught weekend she’d spent moving house.
How the bloody hell did I expect to achieve all that in three days?
She had worked like a slave on her supposed time off. And she was returning to work knackered, with the sensation that a long week lay ahead of her. To top it all, once she’d filled the new flat with her possessions, deep regret had cast a shadow over her. The flat was simply too damned small. Not for the first time, she cursed the ground her ex walked on.
You’ll get what’s coming to you one day, Darryl Parker. I can guarantee you that.
Her threat reminded her to chase up her solicitor with regard to reverting back to her maiden name. The sooner she got rid of everything to do with that man, the better. He’d already robbed her of four valuable years of life.
She pulled into the station car park just as her partner, DS Jack Blackman, was getting out of his car.
He waved and walked towards her. “Damn, I think you should take another week off, looking at the suitcases you’re carrying under those eyes.”
“Ha, bloody, ha! I can always rely on you to make me feel great—
not
. Did you have a good weekend?”
“Let’s put it this way: I think it was probably a darn sight better than yours, by the looks of things.”
Side by side, they crossed the car park. Sally dug her elbow into Jack’s ribs. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re crap at boosting a woman’s ego?”
“Yeah, Donna, all the time.” He laughed.
“I pity her for having to put up with you.”
“Seriously? I’m a model husband compared to that shit ex of yours. Christ, even I could write a book about the crap he burdened you with during your pointless marriage.”
Sally pushed open the door and keyed in her access code to the station’s inner sanctum. “Thanks! That much I already know, and I don’t need reminding of it in the form of a book, if it’s all the same to you.”
“Sorry. Do you think he’ll leave you alone now you’re in your own place?”
Sally swiftly turned her head and looked at him. “I bloody well hope so.”
He raised his hand above her head, pushed open the door, then motioned for her to go ahead of him. “You know where I am if the shit hits the fan again. I’d love to wipe that smug grin off his face, given the opportunity.”
“Thanks. I appreciate your concern, Jack, but I can handle Darryl.”
“Like the last time he tried something, you mean?”
Sally gulped as the images of her ex-husband pinning her to the floor of her former home flooded her mind. She shook her head, hoping to disperse the vile pictures. She’d been foolish to ever get involved with the lowlife, let alone marry him and waste four years trying to change him into a decent human being. “Give it a rest with the ‘I told you so,’ will you? Between you and my bloody dad, you’re going to end up making my life unbearable.”
“Your old man talks a lot of sense. Shame you didn’t listen to him…”
Her blood boiled. “Go on—say it. Have the courage of your convictions, man.”
He shrugged. “I was just saying that it was a shame you didn’t listen to him, or me, for that matter, if we’re laying our cards on the table, right from the outset.
Before
you married the effing wastrel.”
Sally bit back the venomous retort teetering on the tip of her tongue and turned towards her office, but she couldn’t resist throwing over her shoulder, “Let he who is without sin…”
Sounding unamused, Jack shouted back, “Very funny.”
Sally licked her finger and stroked an invisible line in the air, much to the amusement of the rest of the team already gathered in the incident room.
“Umm… before you go, boss. There’s been a murder,” Stuart McBain called out in true Taggart style, with his genuine Scottish accent.
Sally fought hard to suppress her smile when she spun around and walked towards him. “Let’s have it, Stu?”
He handed her a sheet of paper with the case details sprawled across it. “Am I supposed to be able to read this? Why don’t you tell us what it says, and my capable partner will be a good assistant and jot down the details in his little notebook?”
Jack tutted in her ear and perched his backside on the desk in front of Stuart’s. He took out his notebook and pen. “Right, fire away, Stu.”
“We got a call from the vicar at Acle Church about thirty minutes ago. He was distraught after finding the naked body of a woman in his graveyard.”
Sally flicked her partner’s arm with her hand. “Shit! We better head over there ASAP. Anything else?”
“Not really, boss. He was too shaken up to offer anything else,” Stuart replied.
“And that’s what was written on that sheet of paper? Are you kidding me?”
Detective Constable McBain cringed. “That and the address. I’ll try and do better next time, boss.”
“You do that. Stop trying to imitate your doctor brother when writing notes. Got that?” Sally tweaked his ear as she passed his desk. “We’ll be back soon, peeps. Heads down, and get on with trying to solve those menial cases we discussed on Friday until we return, okay?”
“Yes, boss,” the other three members of the team shouted in unison. Sally and Jack ran down the stairs and out of the station. “We’ll take my car, Jack.”
“I was hoping you’d say that. I’m low on petrol.”
“I take it you weren’t a Boy Scout when you were growing up then?” Sally teased.
Jack tutted again at the droll remark. Sally was thankful that her ex wasn’t the topic of conversation during their journey to the crime scene. Instead, Jack wittered on about his wife’s preferred destination for their summer holiday in July, while Sally focused on the road and anticipated the crime scene awaiting them.
When Sally and Jack arrived, the forensic team was already suited and booted and had almost finished setting up the marquee to protect the body from the elements and the gaze of the general public. Sally shuddered at the thought of any of the kids at the primary school, which was around a hundred feet away, seeing the body on their way to school.
“Hi, Simon. What do we have?” Sally asked as soon as she spotted the attending pathologist, Simon Bracknall.
“A dead body.”
Crap! The world is full of comedians all of a sudden.
“Funny! Have you found anything of note so far? It’s too much to hope there’s an ID lying around.”
“As it happens, there is. The victim’s handbag and clothes were left in a pile beside the body.” He leaned in and said quietly, “The vicar thought he was doing the right thing by covering the body—’shielding it from the kids’ prying eyes,’ he put it. Well, you don’t have to be a genius to know that he’s probably contaminated the crime scene.”
“Or did he do it on purpose? That makes him the main suspect then,” Jack offered.
Sally shook her head. “Don’t be so bloody absurd. How did you ever get to be my partner, thinking dumb shit like that?”
Jack shrugged and grinned. “Lucky, I guess.”
“If I might interrupt, as my time is pretty valuable, Inspector—he appears to be too upset to be involved in this,” Simon said.
“I’ll have a word with him after I’ve seen the victim. Can I go in?”
Simon raised his hand, asking her to wait for a moment, and called over to a member of his team. “Geoff, is it safe now?”
The pathologist’s bearded colleague put his thumb up and nodded. Simon entered the tent before Sally and Jack.
“Oh, crap! Well, he did a good job of disguising the body,” Sally announced, looking down at the blanket that totally hid the body.
Two members of the forensic team spread out a plastic sheet on the ground and carefully removed the blanket to reveal the victim.
“Why did I have it in my mind that she would be younger?” Sally asked.
“Who knows? Is there an age limit to naked women being found in graveyards?” Simon replied smugly.
“No, I didn’t mean that. On the way over here, I just had an image in my mind… all right, ignore me. What can you tell us, Simon?”
The pathologist knelt beside the body and inspected it thoroughly without saying anything for the next few minutes. Then he stood up again. “Looks like traces of semen on her thighs.”
“What? That’s a good sign, isn’t it?”
Simon shrugged. “Only if it matches someone already registered on the database. We won’t know that for at least a week.”
Sally sidled up to him and winked. “Couldn’t you possibly push it through quicker, just for little ol’ me?”
Simon sighed heavily. “Christ, everyone wants their results yesterday. No wonder the lab is under stress with cases. I’ll see what I can do for you, like I always do, Inspector.” He bent down and lifted the woman’s handbag. “Let’s see what we have here.” His gloved hand dipped into the bag and emerged with a black leather purse. He opened the purse and withdrew a credit card. “Brenda Fisher.”
“Is there a driving licence in there, by any chance?”
Simon thrust his hand back inside and pulled out a plastic holder. “She was organised anyway. Here you go.”
“Get this down, Jack,” Sally instructed her partner.
“Fifteen Jacoby Street,” Simon read out.
Sally trawled her mind. “That’s not far from here. We’ll chase that up. Thanks, Simon. Is there anything else for us to go on?”
Simon shook his head. “That’s as good as you’re going to get, apart from the cause of death.”
“Which is?” Sally asked.
“Almost certainly strangulation, judging by the amount of petechial haemorrhaging present.”
“So we’re looking for a possible rapist who goes on to strangle his victims. Should be a clear-cut case then, especially in a small village like this,” Sally said with more than a hint of sarcasm.
She and Jack left the marquee and made their way over to where the distraught vicar was standing, observing the scene. Sally showed him her warrant card. “Hello, I’m DI Sally Parker, and this is my partner, Jack Blackman.”
“Harold Wheeler, vicar of the parish. This is shocking, truly shocking.” The man acted as if Sally were blocking his view of the marquee. Folks often became transfixed at a murder scene. Some experts reckoned it was a sign that shock was about to set in.
“I agree. Is it possible for us to chat inside?”
“Yes, sorry. My mind is all over the place. Whatever are my parishioners going to say about this?”
“One thing at a time, Mr. Wheeler.” Sally gently turned the man towards the church and walked alongside him while Jack brought up the rear.
They entered the small church, and the vicar led them through the curtained area to the vestry. He sat behind his desk and instructed Sally and Jack to sit in the two chairs opposite him.
“What can I tell you, Inspector? Apart from that I found the body and covered her up first thing this morning.”
“What time exactly, Mr. Wheeler? Do you remember?”
“Around seven. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I parked up and came around the corner. I always unlock the main doors first thing. If I’d come in the back way, I would be none the wiser about her lying out there.” He buried his head in his hands and shook his head. “Can you imagine the trauma the kids would have gone through if they’d seen that? Lord, it doesn’t bear thinking about.”
“My thoughts exactly when we pulled up this morning.” She gently eased into her question. “Do you know the victim?”
He dropped his hands from his face. “No, I don’t recognise her.”
“Apparently, she lives not far from here, in Jacoby Street. Does that help?”
He shook his head. “No, not at all. I’ve been here nearly twenty years and can’t say I recognise her in the slightest. That poor child. Who would do such a thing? Who on earth would think to leave the body resting against a grave like that—and on sacred ground, too?”
“That’s what we intend to find out. I didn’t check the name on the gravestone. Do you think that’s significant?”
“I don’t understand, Inspector. Significant, in what way?”
“Sorry, my mind tends to run at a hundred miles an hour. Can you tell me who the gravestone belongs to? Maybe there’s some sort of connection with the victim there.”
“I see.” He squeezed his temple between his thumb and forefinger as he thought. “Old Man Johnson. If I recall correctly, he had no living relatives. The parish raised the funds between them to bury the poor man last year.”
“Seems unlikely to be a link there, then. Did you see any cars parked in the vicinity when you arrived this morning?”
He shook his head. “No. Nobody was around. There very rarely is at that time of the day. I’m not being much help, am I?”
“You’re doing fine, considering the shock you’ve experienced. It’s a long shot, I know, but I don’t suppose the church has any form of CCTV cameras installed, has it?”
“No. There have been discussions along those lines, though, given the spate of robberies and vandalism the church has suffered over the past few months.” He thumped his clenched fist on the desk. “It’s all down to raising enough funds to pay for the equipment. I should have been firmer with the council when they cited it as an unnecessary expense.”
“Hindsight is a wonderful thing, Mr. Wheeler. Please don’t beat yourself up about this. These things happen. If there is nothing else you can tell us, we’ll be on our way. We need to visit the victim’s address, see if she has any family living there.”
“I’m sorry I’ve been so useless. Will you keep me informed, Inspector?”
“Yes, of course. Will you keep an eye open for anything or anyone acting suspicious for us? Someone put that woman’s body there and went out of their way to deposit the body in your front yard, as it were.”
“I’ll definitely keep my ears and eyes open,” Mr. Wheeler agreed.
Sally offered him her card with her contact details. “Thank you. I hope the forensic team aren’t going to inconvenience you for too long. It’s important for them to check the scene thoroughly.”
“I know. I feel stupid for covering the body over now.” Mr. Wheeler rose from his chair.
“You did what you felt was right at the time. I wouldn’t worry about that side of things. The team have already discovered some vital evidence.”