Read The Secrets of the Shadows (The Annie Graham series - Book 2) Online
Authors: Helen Phifer
Laura raised the glass to her lips, draining the remaining drops of wine; she was more than merry, quite possibly drunk. Until she stood up and tried to walk in a straight line she couldn’t say for definite. One thing she did know was that she was starving, two cans of Slimfast and a banana didn’t really do much to fill you up. The man on the bar stool next to her smiled, he’d been chatting to her for the last thirty minutes. Don’t ask what about because she didn’t care, he was nice looking. He was broad shouldered and looked as if he worked out at the gym every day, at the moment he was the best looking shag in the pub. Will, Stu and the others were sitting behind her in a semicircle and she hoped Will was watching. She wanted him to intervene, drag her back to the stool next to him and tell her how sorry he was, he did like her. In reality he was completely ignoring her; he hadn’t spoken more than ten words to her since last week. She would have to go to plan B which was to make him jealous, prove to him she could have anyone she wanted and it was him who was missing out. She turned her head slightly to see if he was watching her but he was nodding his head at something Stu was whispering in his ear –
losers, the pair of them
. Muscle man offered her another drink and she didn’t refuse, this was Will’s last chance and then she was leaving with muscle man and either taking him back to his place or hers. It didn’t matter as long as she left the pub with him and Will watched her leave. She bent and whispered in his ear. ‘Do you fancy going somewhere quiet for a coffee?’
The man nodded with a big grin on his face and she stood up from the bar stool, stumbling slightly. Muscle man, who had just told her he was called Ryan, caught her elbow, helping her to steady herself. She smiled at him then linked her arm through his, squeezing it tightly. Will nodded at her and then looked away,
did his cheeks just flush?
She hoped so; it would serve him right, he’d had his chance. Laura did actually feel bad for Annie; she hadn’t meant for her to catch them like she had but in Laura’s world all was fair in love and war. Ryan kept tight hold of her arm. They got outside the pub and walked down the street to the taxi rank. He gave his address and Laura wasn’t about to argue, it was easier for her to sneak away after what she hoped would be some hot sex with no strings attached. He was a real gentleman and helped her into the car. Once it drove off he leant over and kissed her and she hungrily kissed him back. The taxi stopped outside a large detached house, the only buildings nearby were a church and small primary school and she realised it was the presbytery.
‘Forgive me Father for I have sinned.’ She giggled and reached out to touch his groin; Ryan made the sign of the cross on her forehead and whispered, ‘No my child, you are about to sin – you haven’t yet.’
She got a fit of the giggles as they got out of the taxi. Ryan slipped the driver a ten pound note, then he took hold of her hand and led her towards the house which was all in darkness.
‘Are you really a priest?’
He shook his head, ‘No, but my uncle is. I live with him while I’m working down here, but we have the place to ourselves. He’s been asked to cover for a priest up in the Lakes so he’s staying there for a bit. We’ll be all on our own and you should see the size of my bed.’
He opened the front door and then turned and swept Laura off her feet, kicking the door shut behind him. Too drunk to even think about locking it he carried her upstairs. Laura knew this was going to be fun and for the first time in over a year she forgot all about how much she fancied Will Ashworth.
***
Laura groaned, blinking one eye open. She wasn’t in her own bed; her head felt like it belonged to someone else and it was too heavy to lift. She turned to see the naked body of the man she had come home with and for once she thought not bad, not bad at all. This made a change from the shock, horror, gasp and quick escapes after most nights out. She gazed around the room: it was pretty basic, king-size bed, wardrobe, chest of drawers and a huge crucifix on the wall. She’d forgotten he was the priest’s nephew and hoped his uncle hadn’t come home early, it would be a bit awkward if he’d heard them having sex in his house. She sat up on the side of the bed, her head was banging and her stomach lurched as the bitter taste of stale wine lingered at the back of her throat. There was a bottle of water on the bedside table and she picked it up and took large, gulping mouthfuls, glad to parch the dry feeling at the back of her throat. After sitting with her head in her hands for ten minutes she forced herself to stand up. She wobbled across to the chair where she’d thrown her clothes last night and got dressed but she didn’t want to just leave. She actually liked Ryan and would love to see him again. Searching the pocket of her trousers she found a crumpled business card with her phone number. Not wanting to wake him up because she didn’t want him to see her looking so rough she tiptoed around to his side of the bed and placed it on the bedside table next to him. She bent down to kiss his forehead and her legs began to tremble, it was a struggle to hold her own body weight. Her stomach lurched once more and the room went black as she crashed down onto the floor. Semiconscious, she wanted to move but couldn’t; her body was refusing to do what her mind was telling it to. From the corner of her eye she became vaguely aware of movement, someone was walking around the room. She looked at Ryan’s glazed eyes. He was dead. What was happening? Her brain felt as if had turned into treacle and she couldn’t think. The footsteps stopped and she blinked, trying to focus, but the room was fuzzy and she was unable to see clearly. She knew it was a man, she could tell by the heavy footsteps that he was wearing boots, they approached her and she tried to speak but a mumbled noise came out. Her mind was screaming at her to move and her heart was racing, she knew the man wasn’t here to help her and then she heard his voice as he spoke into her ear.
‘Say your prayers; it’s time to go to sleep.’
***
He pulled the thick plastic bag over her head and watched as she took her last gasps, trying to suck in precious gulps of air. Her pretty, thin face the same colour red as the old fashioned carpet she was lying on. Her unfocused pale blue eyes bulged from the sockets taking away some of the prettiness. He had been parked across the road from the pub and followed the taxi as it drove away. When it had driven towards St Mary’s Church he had almost given himself a heart attack, surely not, this was too good to be true! He hadn’t wanted to use the same church twice but why not, this was a gift from God himself, it would be foolish not to make use of it. When Laura and the man who was not his vicar stumbled drunkenly into the house they hadn’t bothered to lock the door behind them, too absorbed in kissing each other. He had left them to it, he couldn’t take them on now, they would be much easier once they’d had sex and tired themselves out. He walked around the church grounds to see if there was a suitable grave he could use, he couldn’t use the same one as she deserved her own. This time he chose one which wasn’t overlooked by the school or the house. At least this would throw them, they would waste time and effort staking out the church waiting for him to strike again and next time it would be one on the other side of town, far away from St Mary’s. Taking his bag from his truck, he’d finally crept in through the front door, locking it behind him. He’d overheard the man tell Laura about his uncle so it was all perfect, this house may belong to God but they say that the devil looks after his own. He’d sat down on the stairs and listened whilst they had very noisy sex, at one point he’d found himself getting a bit too excited and had to walk around the house to concentrate on what he was doing. Eventually the bed stopped creaking and it went quiet, he wondered what was going to be the best way to do this without too much mess and blood. The man upstairs was much bigger than him, as much as he hated the sight of blood he didn’t really have much choice in how to kill him. It needed to be quick and the only thing he could think of was to stick a knife straight through his heart. At least he would be able to pull the duvet over him and if he did it fast enough; maybe he wouldn’t see any blood at all.
He went into the kitchen and looked in the fridge; there were plenty of bottles of mineral water inside. He took one out and unscrewed the cap, then tipping the contents of his medicine bottle in he put the cap back on and gave it a good shake, there should be enough in there to render a bull defenceless. He would put it by her side of the bed for when she woke up. There was a butcher’s block with an assortment of knives on the worktop and he pulled out the one with the biggest handle and the sharpest point. Just holding it made him feel queasy but he knew there was no way he could overpower the big man and a struggle would wake Laura up; he didn’t want her to wake up until he was ready for her. Worried that this could all go wrong in a very big way he cautiously made his way up the stairs and in the direction of the room that all the noise had emanated from. He crept inside and placed the bottle of water next to Laura and then he crept around to the other side where the man was lying naked and snoring gently. His legs began to tremble before he’d even lifted the knife but he took a deep breath and pulled his arm back, aiming straight for his chest. As the knife plunged straight through the man’s heart his eyes opened and he made a gurgling sound. It must have been a lucky shot because the man’s eyes began to glaze over. He left the knife where it was, he had his thick, black gloves on so there would be no prints, and then he pulled the duvet over him so he didn’t get distracted by the blood. Laura stirred and he looked across at her, why did people feel the need to drink themselves into oblivion?
When he looked back down at Laura she had stopped jerking and was still. It was a shame but she wasn’t a very nice person and she looked so much like his mother it was never going to end any other way. The moon had appeared from behind the dense, black clouds and illuminated the church enough that he wouldn’t have to struggle with her body and a torch. He bent down and removed the plastic bag from her head, scrunching it up and pushing it deep into his trouser pocket. He undressed her and then he bent down and heaved her up into his arms, which was a lot trickier than it sounded, she was very slim but still heavy enough to make beads of sweat form on his brow as he manoeuvred down the stairs with her. Using the tip of his Magnum boot to open the door he’d left ajar earlier, he stepped outside and paused, double checking there was no-one around. He crunched his way along the short gravel path which led into the churchyard towards his chosen grave. He gently laid her down; it was easier this time with no plastic sheeting to contend with. Putting her in the recovery position, it took him a while to get her arms just right, they needed to be raised slightly, almost caressing each other. Then he set about looking for something to cover her with. When he was satisfied he’d done the best he could he stood up and stretched, his back was aching. This wasn’t as easy as he’d imagined but it was well worth the effort. Stepping back to admire his work he smiled, Laura made a very beautiful sleeping angel and he wanted to sit down on the stone bench opposite and watch her but he couldn’t risk anyone seeing him. He snapped a couple of pictures on his phone and then pressed his right boot into the ground; give the detectives who would be working the case something to get excited about. He left the way he came through the presbytery garden and out of the open gate. He stopped and remembered he hadn’t shut the house door so he jogged back and slammed it shut. There was no point in making it too easy for the police, he wanted to give them a real challenge and see if they were up to the mark.
The smell of new rubber plimsolls and the flip, flack of the too-big soles hitting the tarmac on the playground floor made Ella feel safe. It reminded her of her days playing hopscotch, when the only thing worth worrying about was if she would get put into the red or green team for sports day. Nobody wanted to be in yellow or blue.
‘Miss, Miss - Billy has taken my bouncy ball.’
Ella sighed, turning around to sort out the first drama of the day. She smiled at the six year old girl with strawberry blonde hair and a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose; Rosie Garnett would tell tales on her own mother, in fact she often did. Ella looked at Billy, whose surly expression made her struggle to hide the smile on her face. ‘Come on Billy, give it back. Rosie I’m sure he just wanted to play with you, isn’t that right Billy?’
Billy held out his small, pudgy hand. Concealed inside his tight fist was the tiny bright green ball. Uncurling his fingers he passed it to Rosie who smiled so sweetly at him that it made Ella grimace. Rosie ran off after the bouncing ball she had just launched towards the other side of the playground and Billy stood waiting to be told off. Ella patted him on the head. Then a piercing scream froze her to the core, something bad had happened and she was almost too afraid to turn around and see what it was but her instinct took over and she turned and ran in the direction of the scream. It was one long, shrill noise and it sounded almost like the high-pitched peal of the fire alarms. They were emanating from the churchyard which adjoined the school; Ella, closely followed by Miss Smith, reached the gate which led into the church grounds to see Rosie standing on the other side, her mouth open and that awful noise coming from it. Ella rushed towards her to see what was the matter, the girl didn’t look as if she’d hurt herself. Ella grabbed hold of Rosie and gently shook her to make her stop; Rosie stared at Ella and lifted a small finger and pointed at something. Ella turned to look and felt her heart skip a beat, the naked body of a woman lay across one of the graves; her lifeless eyes told Ella everything she needed to know and she pulled Rosie against her, hugging her and gently turning her away from the dreadful sight. Picking her up she carried her over to Miss Smith who was standing with one hand clapped over her mouth; she hadn’t ventured past the gate. ‘Get the children back inside and phone the police now.’ Miss Smith nodded and taking the girl from her she began blowing the whistle to signal that playtime was over and told the children to go back in. Ella stood blocking the gate so nobody could see through until all the children had been rounded up and ushered back inside.