The Gathering Man (A DI Erica Swift Thriller Book 7)
Page 22
“Not just him. With the whole group. I finally felt like I belonged somewhere.”
“Oh, darling, I’m so sorry we ever made you feel like you didn’t belong here. That’s our failure, not yours. This is your home. Don’t ever feel like you’re not part of it.”
At her mother’s words, Bethany experienced a settling in her soul. A calmness and peace she hadn’t felt since she’d been a small girl. For the first time, she started to think things might be all right. Perhaps her trichotillomania would start to get better now, but, even if it didn’t, she needed to learn how to love herself regardless. She was more than her hair. She had people who loved her, and that was what mattered.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Erica sat in court on the final day of Peter Woodhouse’s trial. She’d given her evidence some time ago, but she wanted to witness this bastard going down. He’d manipulated the most vulnerable of people when he was in a position of power, and she hoped he’d get a very long time.
Months had passed since the cut on Erica’s neck had healed, but the scarring was still visible as a twisted white line. It had been difficult explaining it to Poppy, and Natasha had been horrified and told her that she should reconsider her career. She’d taken on a DCI role when Gibbs had suffered his stroke, and it had made her decide that she didn’t want that job. She liked being out with the victims and the witnesses instead of being stuck in an office, directing the detectives in her team to do those jobs.
She’d been able to hide her near-death experiences from her daughter, but there was no way she could hide the massive scar, or that she’d been in hospital for the first couple of days. She was also coming to realise that as Poppy got older, the harder it would be to shelter her from the dangers of her mother’s job.
Woodhouse wasn’t the only person who was going to be prosecuted. Each of the members of The Second Law cult would be standing their own trials. Some, no doubt, would be considered more victim than perpetrator, but the Crown Prosecution Service hadn’t been able to ignore the fact that many of them had not only witnessed the murder of Stacey Ford, but had seemingly willingly helped to defile her body as she lay dying. Erica knew for sure that one of them at least—the park warden, George Wiles—would be serving time. He was a grown man who’d deliberately lied to the police.
Another of the people who’d been as sick and twisted as Woodhouse was fifty-two-year-old Henry Flynn who’d been an anaesthetist before he’d been struck off by the medical board for gross misconduct. Flynn had been the one to help Woodhouse understand fentanyl dosages and had pointed him in the right direction to get hold of the drug.
The deep voice of the judge cut across the court. “Are the jury ready with their verdict?”
The head juror got to her feet. “We are, Your Honour.”
The court clerk spoke up. “For the charge of the murder of Stacey Ford, how do you find the defendant?”
“Guilty.”
“For the charge of the attempted murder of Bethany Emerson, how do you find the defendant?”
“Guilty.”
“For the assault of a police officer, how do you find the defendant?”
“Guilty.”
Erica breathed out a sigh of relief, and beside her, Shawn took her hand and squeezed her fingers. She gave him a grateful smile.
Peter Woodhouse didn’t say a word. He didn’t even react to the charges but remained sitting, looking straight ahead, while people in the courtroom celebrated the result.
The judge spoke again, addressing Woodhouse directly. “Mr Woodhouse, you’ve shown a flagrant abuse of your position of power above two innocent young girls and used that power to manipulate and eventually murder one of those girls and attempt to murder the other. You’ve displayed no remorse during this trial, and even now, seem unaffected upon learning the verdict. For these reasons, I am sentencing you to two life sentences in prison.”
Erica exhaled again. If Peter Woodhouse ever made it out from behind bars, he would be a very old man.
THE END
LOVED WHAT YOU READ? Don’t miss out on book eight of the Erica Swift series, The Only Witness! Order from Amazon today by clicking here!
WHEN A BODY IS DISCOVERED buried in wasteland in East London, it’s clear from the level of decomposition that it’s been there a long time.
DI Erica Swift is brought in on the case to discover who put the victim in the ground.
What secrets can the body reveal?
As the evidence is gradually revealed, those who know the truth find their lives in danger.
Will someone kill again to keep the secret of the only witness?
Order today on Amazon!
About the Authors
M K Farrar had penned more than ten novels of psychological noir and crime fiction. A British author, she lives in the countryside with her three children and a menagerie of rescue pets.
When she’s not writing—which isn’t often—she balances out all the murder with baking and binge-watching shows on Netflix.
You can find out more about M K and grab a free book via her website, https://mkfarrar.com
She can also be emailed at mk@mkfarrar.com. She loves to hear from readers!
Also by the Author
DI Erica Swift Thriller
The Eye Thief
The Silent One
The Artisan
The Child Catcher
The Body Dealer
The Gathering Man
Detective Ryan Chase Thriller
Kill Chase
Chase Down
Standalone Psychological Thrillers
Some They Lie
On His Grave
Down to Sleep