The Ex (DS Jenna Morgan)

by Diane Saxon

  She turned right out of the car park and strode out up the hill, past the small Co-op at the mouth of the Museum on the Gorge. It would be open until ten o’clock. Perhaps she’d nip in on her way home and buy that bottle of red wine.

  Sodium lights illuminated the town to spread their warm golden glow as she lengthened her stride and marched along the narrow footpath, puffing out small bursts of vapour as her breath hit the cool evening air.

  The Council had readied the flood barriers for erection along the Wharfeage, as the River Severn continued to rise after an unusually long, wet autumn. It threatened to break its banks early in the season, leaving a dull sense of foreboding for what the rest of the winter would bring. The town wallowed in an eerie quietness. The windows of almost all the premises overlooking the river dark, but for an occasional upstairs light on.

  Breathless from her overexerted stride, she paused halfway up the hill before crossing the Ironbridge. A town in the summer overflowing with tourists keen to witness the birthplace of the Industrial Revolution, the Ironbridge dominated the landscape with its iron structure pioneered by Abraham Darby in the eighteenth century. The plethora of museums drew people from all around the world. Somewhere for the locals to avoid. As a tourist town, however, devoid of visitors during the winter months, most of the shops had already closed for the evening.

  The car park in the little square opposite the Ironbridge was empty except for a single red car outside the Tea Emporium as the last of the patrons left for the day. If she’d been earlier, Fliss could have indulged in a fruit scone with jam and cream, accompanied by a cappuccino, or one of their thick, creamy hot chocolates. A treat both she and Jenna often indulged in as they watched the world go by from underneath the fluttering umbrellas outside all year long.

  Her stomach let out a protesting wail as she turned her back on the café. She’d not eaten since lunchtime and couldn’t wait to get back to Jenna’s. She’d fling together a quick stir-fry in time for Jenna’s return. Not that her sister deserved it.

  The torrid waters of the Severn swirled beneath her as she crossed over the Ironbridge, deserted since the end of the summer and tourist season, much to her relief. Fliss wasn’t in the mood for mad holidaymakers leaping at Domino just because they’d seen 101 Dalmatians and believed they were all cuddly animations instead of big dogs who could give a powerful bite if provoked. Not that Domino would bite anyone. She reached down and scrubbed the top of his head and made his tail go wild. The big softie.

  With high, prancing steps, Domino’s strong muscles bunched and flexed as he matched his pace to hers, happy just to be with her.

  Snatches of bad temper still curdled in her stomach and Fliss barely paused as she turned right off the bridge and hit the flat of the wide, disused railway track which led straight to the cooling towers, before unclipping Domino’s jaunty red lead. She coiled it around her neck, clipped the end onto one of the metal loops along the lead, so it couldn’t slide off, and headed after the dog.

  As he veered off to the left, taking the narrower offshoot from the main path up into the woodland, Fliss automatically followed. She put on a spurt to get her up the first steep incline, blowing out white puffs of breath as the path rose in undulations until she was thirty feet above, and parallel to, the main drag. Glancing around, Fliss considered her mistake taking that route as dense vegetation crowded out the light to make it even more difficult to see where she was going.

  She hesitated and peered down through the dimness at the wider trail. Already twilight, it would soon be an impenetrable black in the woods.

  With a sniff, Fliss burrowed her nose deeper into her fleece-lined coat against the chill wind whipping through the Ironbridge Gorge and shrugged. Sure-footed, she was so familiar with the walk, the thought of negotiating it in the dark never bothered her. She wouldn’t be too long, and where the paths merged at the base of the cooling towers, she’d return along the wider, safer path.

  As the peace and quiet of the Gorge settled on her, she slowed her pace and breathed deep, allowing the rich, pungent aroma of the undergrowth to encompass her. Sharp scents of wet pine and dark wood smoke rose with snatches of damp soil and musky fungus to invade her senses.

  Never one to hold onto her temper, she let it go and took in her surroundings. She squinted above her, way up the hillside into the thicket, in the hope she’d spot deer picking their way through. Too dark to make out any shapes, she turned her attention back to the narrow pathway.

  Thrilled at the fresh crunch of leaves underfoot, she swiped at the piles of them with her boots, like she had when she was a child. Only the thick slide of mud underneath gave her a moment’s pause. Perhaps it wasn’t wise to kick the protective layer of leaves aside and end up on her backside, or worse still, at the bottom of the steep incline. Jenna would only give her hell. What were you doing up there at that time of night? How come you slipped? Trust you to get into trouble. Her sister’s lecturing voice trailed through Fliss’s mind, slowing her down still more.

  Disappointed, she curled her fingers into the palms of her hands to keep them warm and ambled onward, her eyes straining to catch the quick bursts of Domino as he pounded in mad leaps up and down the hillside, the scent of deer in his nostrils.

  A wild flash of white shot past her, so close the whip of air stroked her bare hands. The merry jingle of Domino’s collar let her know exactly where he was as he tore through again, almost taking her off her feet.

  ‘Slow down, slow down, you barmy dog.’ God, but she loved him.

  She laughed out loud as he charged by one more time. It wasn’t worth calling him back. He wouldn’t take any notice and it just made her feel stupid when she shouted for a dog that wasn’t going to obey. Anyway, he was having fun.

  She cast a quick glance up at the umbrella of trees and pushed away the regret of coming out here. It was good for him. He needed the exercise, and even in the dark, she was sure-footed, she knew the pathways. Besides, another twenty minutes and she’d be back onto the main track. Although it wasn’t lit either, it didn’t have the heavy layer of branches canopied over it to draw the night in.

  ‘It’s bloody freezing.’

  She dug icy hands into her pockets and regretted leaving her gloves in the car in her haste and bad temper. She hunched her shoulders up to her ears as the bitter chill seeped bone deep. Mean and sneaky, it found the gaps in the neckline of her coat and filtered through to send ripples of goosebumps over her flesh. Damn, but she should have worn more layers. She kept enough of them in her car, but her temper had got the better of her.

  She brought her nose out of where she had it tucked in her coat as Domino shot by once more and breathed a sigh of relief that she’d had the sense not to follow the even steeper route up to Patten’s Rock.

  Out of control, Domino flew down the hillside above her, clipped the side of her leg in his headlong rush and almost sent her over the edge of the path after him.

  ‘Shit.’ Her heartbeat spiked as she teetered on the edge, one foot slipping in the mud before she managed to pull herself back. ‘Bloody dog, no sense of personal space. No sense, full stop.’

  She dragged in a deep breath. For her own safety, she slipped her hands back out of her pockets for balance, just in case the dog side-swiped her again and pushed her over the edge. She narrowed her eyes and peered into the blackness of the Gorge while Domino careered through the undergrowth.

  In her next life, she wanted to be a dog. Wild and carefree, with nothing to worry about. Tough and energetic, just like Domino.

  Fliss pulled her phone from her pocket and swiped the screen to check the time and then slipped it away again. She’d better get a move on before she couldn’t even see the hand in front of her face. Other than the muted sounds of birds settling for the night, the distant echoes of voices and the occasional excited yip from a dog in Dale End Park directly opposite her on the other side of the river, peace settled around her.

  Head down, she powered on, away
from the soft lights of the town, deeper into the murky woodland, accompanied by the comforting thrash of Domino charging around.

  One foot suddenly shot from underneath her and she slithered down a short, muddy incline. Arms spread wide, her spine cracked as she jerked upright and then came to a slippery halt as she grabbed onto the short stretch of wooden hand railing.

  Still on her feet. Just. Heart beating in the base of her throat, she bent over from the waist and blew out a gusty sigh. Perhaps she shouldn’t power on. Perhaps slow and steady was the means to stay alive.

  Below her, Domino’s enthusiasm quietened to soft snuffles and the darkness closed in. Above her, leaves rustled, and twigs snapped. She straightened, held onto her breath to listen. Something else moved amongst the trees.

  Attuned to the peacefulness of her surroundings, Fliss angled her head so she could hear better. She blinked to focus on the shadowy woodland and waited. If there were deer, she was about to lose her dog if he decided to sprint after them, but the likelihood of deer getting so close wasn’t too high, not even the bold muntjac. Not with the racket Domino made.

  She sucked in a lungful of cold air, held it, her brow drawn low as she concentrated.

  It didn’t sound like deer. Not unless a whole herd had descended on them. Not a badger either. They would have just thundered past, oblivious of their surroundings. Busy characters, they tended not to stop for anything.

  This was different, more rhythmic.

  She tilted her head to one side to better catch the sound.

  Footsteps. Definitely. Heavy footfall coming straight towards her down the embankment, from the higher pathway leading from Broseley. There was no hesitation in the steps, some slipping, some sliding, but whoever was there had to be confident of their ability and familiarity with the terrain.

  ‘Hello?’ Fliss burst out, her voice sharp and demanding, full of confidence she didn’t feel.

  In an instant, the footfall halted. A heavy silence descended from above, but Domino’s movements still gave her some reassurance. A big dog, she’d never felt insecure with him around, knowing he’d protect her.

  Doubt sent small shudders through her as her teeth chattered against the cold. Fliss peered into the darkness above her for movement as she strained to pick up any sound.

  Nothing.

  Perhaps it had been deer, or a badger. Badgers made plenty of noise, but what creature would freeze at the sound of her voice? Most would make off through the undergrowth.

  As the wind shifted and swirled around her, she picked up the clear sound of the twilight dog walkers on the other side of the river in Dale End Park. The acoustics of the area carried their voices up the Gorge, the long valley emphasising their muffled laughter and dog-barking as though they were right beside her.

  She turned her head to catch the sound of Domino, quieter now, closer, while he snuffled in the wet autumn leaves, unconcerned by anything other than the scent he’d picked up. She should be reassured by his closeness, but she couldn’t dismiss the icy tingle which ran from her neck, down her spine and kept her still while she scanned the area above her and listened for something, anything.

  Nothing.

  ‘Domino.’ Fliss hissed out his name as she stepped back to retrace her way along the path. She wasn’t yet halfway along, and she considered it may be better to go back, rather than deeper into the woods.

  Spooked, she focused on the area above her, determined to detect some movement. Her heartbeat throbbed in the base of her throat. She hitched in fast snatches of air as thinly veiled panic skittered through her veins. She tried to regulate her breathing, held it for a long moment, while she listened for further sounds. Concerned more at the unsettling silence above her.

  She turned her head at the crackle of leaves as Domino moved closer.

  ‘Good boy. C’mon, Domino. Good boy.’ With a hushed croon, she bent from the hips and kept her face upturned to watch for any movement, her head tilted to listen. She groped for the dog’s harness, soothing him while she stroked one hand along his smooth, warm body and took what comfort she could from his presence. With her free hand, she reached into her pocket for her mobile phone. Despite Domino’s closeness, her icy fingers still fumbled while she clenched her jaw and pushed back the flutter of fear.

  Clouds skimmed over the full moon to blot out the light. The damned dark. Always the subject of her nightmares.

  She swivelled on her heel, released the dog’s harness and swiped at the quick dial for her sister’s number as she strode back the way she’d come as quickly as the narrow path would allow.

  As though he sensed her discomfort, Domino matched his pace to hers and trotted along two steps ahead.

  The phone gave a sharp trill at the other end. The fierce glow from the light heightened the density of the surrounding darkness as it closed in around her. Determined to tamp down on the panic, Fliss snapped her spine ramrod straight as she edged her way back along the path and waited for her sister to pick up.

  Just the sound of Jenna’s voice would give her confidence, although she was never going to admit to being frightened.

  The signal slipped down to two bars and then dropped out.

  From the sinister quiet above her, the dry crack of a twig broke through her thoughts and Fliss sobbed out a desperate gasp while she froze in her tracks to stare into the cloying blackness. There was someone there. Someone above her. Watching.

  ‘Hello. Is anyone there?’

  Disgusted at the quaver in her own voice, Fliss held her breath and listened.

  Silence.

  Domino circled around and came to stand by her side, and she reached out, touched his shoulder, seeking reassurance from his presence. His head came up and he scented the air.

  She swiped Jenna’s number again and prayed for the signal to kick back in.

  Domino’s low growl vibrated through Fliss’s hand where she rested it, the short hair of his hackles rose under her fingers and he stood solid beside her. Every muscle in his body quivered to attention.

  Heart knocking hard against her chest, Fliss inched the phone away from her ear to give her a better chance to listen to any further movement above. The phone pealed out its first ring and pierced the quiet. The glow from it blinded her to her surroundings.

  ‘Dammit, Jenna, pick up. Pick up.’ Fliss just needed to hear her sister’s voice, stabilise herself once more. That’s what Jenna did for her, she steadied her in her darkest moments. She’d ground her, make her see the unreasonableness of her worries without making her seem like a fool.

  The connection failed again and Fliss stabbed a shaky finger at the screen. Dammit. Connect.

  She drew a shuddering breath in through her nose and tried to still the rising fear.

  As she debated whether to run or stand and face the dark presence, Domino’s warning growl turned to a deep vicious snarl and terror froze Fliss to the spot.

  Find Her Alive is available to order now, just click below:

  About the Author

  Diane Saxon previously wrote romantic fiction for the US market but has now turned to writing psychological crime. Find Her Alive was her first novel in this genre and introduced series character DS Jenna Morgan. Diane is married to a retired policeman and lives in Shropshire.

  Visit Diane’s website: http://dianesaxon.com/

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  About Boldwood Books

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  First published in Great Britain in 2021 by Boldwood Books Ltd.

  Copyright © Diane Saxon, 2021

  Cover Design by Head Design

  Cover Photography: Shutterstock

  The moral right of Diane Saxon to be i
dentified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Every effort has been made to obtain the necessary permissions with reference to copyright material, both illustrative and quoted. We apologise for any omissions in this respect and will be pleased to make the appropriate acknowledgements in any future edition.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  Paperback ISBN 978-1-80048-856-4

  Large Print ISBN 978-1-83889-272-2

  Hardback ISBN 978-1-80162-317-9

  Ebook ISBN 978-1-83889-273-9

  Kindle ISBN 978-1-83889-274-6

  Audio CD ISBN 978-1-80048-854-0

  MP3 CD ISBN 978-1-83889-270-8

  Digital audio download ISBN 978-1-80048-855-7

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