YOU'RE DEAD: Three Gripping Murder Mystery Suspense Novels

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YOU'RE DEAD: Three Gripping Murder Mystery Suspense Novels Page 14

by Diane M Dickson


  “Well they didn’t even come, you know how it is. They gave me a crime number for the insurance company and suggested I get a better lock on the back gate.”

  “Useless.”

  “Well, it is only a few plants and a barbecue I suppose.”

  “Yeah but they broke into your space didn’t they? Whoever it was, they invaded your home.”

  “Well, I know Sharon but anyway I’ve got some new pots, metal ones and the plants could be rescued. I bought a different barbecue as well. You know cast iron can be a bit brittle. Still if you’d seen it, it was totally smashed, amazing really. The worst thing is though I can’t understand why anyone would do it. I don’t even know anyone around there yet so I don’t see how I could have offended anyone. It must just be wanton destruction I suppose. That’s a bit worrying in itself though isn’t it? The area is supposed to be safe. That’s why I chose to go there. Well, no point in brooding about it. I’ll put it down to experience and step right over it. I have to go and get the booze tomorrow morning and then you’re coming over early to help me with the grub.”

  “Yeah, you’re not really worried are you? You know, put off the house or anything by what’s happened?”

  “No, no, course not. Thing is though, I didn’t mention it before, but there was a man on the lounger the other morning. When I got up, he was just sitting there. By the time I got outside he’d gone. I did wonder if there’s a nutter in the neighbourhood or something like that. You know, somebody who didn’t want the houses built, that sort of thing. What do you reckon?”

  “Have you talked to anybody else, asked your neighbours for instance if they’ve had any trouble?”

  “D’you know what, I haven’t. Next door both sides are coming to the housewarming, if I get the chance I might bring it up. Anyway, time to get back to the grind. See you later love.”

  “Yeah. Later…”

  ***

  The party was a huge success. The weather was kind in spite of it being a barbecue. The garden looked lovely, and everyone really did seem to enjoy themselves. There were no breakages and the food was great in spite of Fiona handing over the cooking to Simon half way through so that she could circulate. He singed the ribs a bit but nobody minded and it had all been really special. She finished loading the glasses into the dishwasher and then sat on the back step with a last little glass of red wine. What a wonderful way to start living here. The neighbours were nice, Shelley and Clive, young and pregnant and then Steven and oh what was her name, Steven and Carly, Mandy, Sandy oh something like that from the other side. All young and professional and really pleasant.

  She had pushed aside the problems with the break in and the intruder on the lounger in the excitement of it all and hadn’t mentioned it to the neighbours. Not to worry, Steven and whatever-dy had invited her to their home for a drink on Sunday and she could have a talk about it with them then. Actually she was glad now, it could have spoiled the atmosphere to bring all of that up.

  With a satisfied sigh she pushed herself up and turned out the floodlighting. Back gate and doors all locked and then tomorrow someone was coming to put up a security light that would sense any movement. Her mum had warned her that they had trouble with cats setting theirs off but she thought better that than somebody coming in and trashing her stuff. She hadn’t mentioned the destruction to her parents, they would worry and fuss and bombard her yet again with warnings about living on her own. If they only knew, but they must never know. No-one must ever know.

  She climbed into bed and lay down intending to re-run the highlights of the party through her mind but, before there was time for more than a quick inventory of who had turned up, she had drifted off to sleep…

  The moon was muffled silver through the bedroom curtains, the room was lost in gloom, furniture and lamps transformed by the night. The atmosphere was wrong, even before Fiona opened her eyes she felt it. Her skin prickled with tension and there was threat in the air.

  As her eyes popped open in the dim room she pushed up into a sitting position, her heart hammering in her chest. She listened, tried to calm her breathing. Cold sweat prickled along her hair line. She was trying to be calm, keeping control but a more basic instinct screamed at her to run. The internal struggle sparked at her nerve endings, her arms were prickled with goosebumps. She knew she would have to move. Something had woken her and she couldn’t just sit here.

  There was no sound.

  She slid her legs out from under the duvet. She leaned across and clicked on the bedside light. The brightness stabbed at her eyes, she squinted and raised a hand to shield them. All was well in the bedroom, surprisingly normal now with the light on. She breathed a little easier. Her skin was clammy, her heart pounded as she moved to the door. It was ajar and she could see the landing. Moonlight illuminated the floorboards and the top of the bannister. She pulled the door towards her and stepped through.

  Out onto the landing and to the top step. All well. She was relaxing now, had her second wind and a modicum of bravery. She went down the first three stairs and leaned over the wooden rail.

  She peered downwards into the living room and her heart leapt into her throat. Her breath hissed into the silence. Swirling back to the bedroom she flung the door closed, fumbling with the lock. She stumbled in a frantic panic to the bedside table and yanked the phone to the floor in her haste to unhook the handset. With trembling fingers she dialled the emergency number stabbing at the buttons.

  “Oh God, oh God.”

  “Emergency, which service do you require?”

  The woman at the other end was calm, almost matter of fact. “There’s someone in my garden. There’s a man peering in my window. I’m on my own. Please, please send someone.”

  “Try to keep calm, caller. What is your name and your address?”

  “Fiona, Fiona Carlisle. 162 Western Crescent. Please send someone; please he’s there in the garden.”

  “Alright Fiona try to keep calm, we’ll have someone with you as soon as possible. Just keep talking to me now, what is your number? Are you in a safe room?”

  “Yes, yes I’m in the bedroom. I can't remember my number. Oh God I can’t remember, it’s new.”

  “Don’t worry about that now. Have you locked the door?”

  “Yes, it’s locked.” She stumbled across the room carrying the phone with her and double-checked the lock. As she did so she heard the tread on the stairs. Unmistakable, firm and steady, one step, two steps, three steps.

  “Are you still there Fiona, are you okay?”

  “Oh God, he’s inside, I think he’s inside.”

  “The officers will be with you very soon now, try to remain calm. Stay on the line Fiona. Hello, hello, Fiona are you still there? Hello Fiona, speak to me.”

  The sound of the sirens could be heard now in the distance. “Hello Fiona, are you there, can you hear me?”

  Chapter 4

  The policeman dragged the duvet from the bed to cover Fiona. He tucked it around her shoulders trying not to spill the cup of hot sweet tea his partner had just delivered.

  “How are you feeling now Miss?”

  “Hmm, I’ll be okay in a minute. If I could just stop shaking.” Great tears brimmed on her lower lids and slid down her face. Rubbing at the moisture with one hand she tried to smile at him with wobbly lips.

  “Are you sure there’s nothing out there, and the door’s not damaged?”

  “No Miss, nothing at all. No sign of an intruder and the doors and gate were all secure.”

  “I was so scared. I have never been so scared ever,” as she said the words she knew them to be untrue but that was then, in the before world. “I couldn’t even talk to the, what’d you call her, is it the operator? You know, on the phone. Can you tell her thank you?”

  “The expeditor. She’ll understand, it’s all part of her job and you’re not the first and you certainly won’t be the last, unfortunately.”

  “But, I was so sure, absolutely convinced that there
was someone, well a man. I saw him. I heard him, his feet on the stairs.”

  “Well, there is certainly no-one here Fiona. You’re safe now. I need to fill in a form if you’re up to it.”

  “Yes, sure, of course.”

  He filled out the incident report as his colleague made a final tour of the house. “All absolutely fine Miss. Are you going to be okay or do you want to call someone to stay with you?”

  “No, no thanks I’m fine. You’ve been very kind. Thank you, really.” In truth she wanted to throw her arms around them and scream don’t go, stay here till morning, but pride, admittedly a rather tentative grip on pride, kept her snuggled under the duvet, her knuckles white around the mug of tea.

  “Right, well, we’ll be off then. Make sure you put the dead lock on when we leave.”

  She dragged herself to the door with them, still wrapped in the duvet and feeling totally drained and rather tearful as they left her on her own.

  The five dead bolts clicked into place with a satisfying thud. Looking around at the neat little space, brightly lit and cheerful, it was difficult now to recall the terror of such a short time ago. Trembling and sobbing in the corner of the bedroom with the phone clutched close she had heard the sirens howling in the street outside. Only when the policemen had thumped on the door, shouting out to her had she dared to leave the room and let them in.

  She crept towards the patio doors. The police had left the floodlights on and she could see the whole of the garden, the patio and the gate, locked and secured. She knew that there would be no more sleep for her tonight so she curled onto the settee sipping the rapidly cooling tea.

  Every little creak shot at her nerves causing her to twitch and jerk as she waited desperately for daylight.

  In the patrol car the young officer turned to his mate. “What do you reckon then?”

  “Oh well, so many women living on their own now. Some of them can hack it and some of them, well y’know.”

  “She didn’t strike me as the hysterical type though. She seemed pretty sensible, always allowing for the circumstances. She has had that other business as well, with the pots and the barbecue.”

  “Well, all we can do is put in a report and suggest a drive-by with the regular patrol for a bit.”

  “Yeah, I guess. Don’t want it coming back to bite us in the bum when she gets raped though do we?”

  “God no, no that.”

  Chapter 5

  “So, how are things? No more trouble at home? You looked absolutely whacked, you’ve got dark rings under your eyes, that’s not like you.”

  “No there’s been nothing, nothing at all. Trouble is that I can’t sleep, I know I look a mess. It’s awful I wait until I’m really tired and everything, I have a milky drink, all the stuff that they tell you to do and as soon as my head hits the pillow I start hearing noises.”

  “Have you thought about taking some sleeping pills? Just for a day or two, you know, you can get herbal ones now. It might be enough just to relax you so you can get some rest.”

  Her hand trembled and she tried to steady the cup with the other one but still the coffee splashed onto the café table, she dabbed at it with her napkin.

  “I got some, Doc Jones gave me a few but the trouble is,” she stopped unable to speak for a moment.

  The look of abject misery on her friend’s face tore at Sharon’s kind heart. She reached out and laid her hand across her friend trembling one.

  Taking a deep breath Fiona carried on. “I’m too scared to take the pills because I’m afraid of being out of it if anything, well anybody…,” she stopped again and took a quivering breath, “In case anyone should get in while I’m in a drugged sleep. You can’t imagine how scary it was, Sharon. I really truly believed, well still believe, that there was someone there, in the house. I was petrified. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  “Tell you what, would it help if I came and stayed with you for a few days? Maybe you would feel better and once you get some rest you’ll be able to cope.”

  “Oh, would you? That would be fantastic. Are you sure Simon won’t mind?”

  “No of course he won’t. How about you come home with me after work, we’ll have dinner and then go to yours and I’ll stay til the weekend. Simon is working in the evenings at the moment; he won’t even notice I’m not there.”

  “Thanks, Sharon. That is wonderful.” She leapt up and moved around the table to give her friend a hug. Now the great dull sack of worry had been lifted from her shoulders the day was brighter, the clouds still threatened but they had been pushed back, for now.

  By the weekend Fiona was feeling much stronger. Having someone else in the house had meant she’d been able to sleep, to relax. With proper rest everything else was so much more manageable. As they sat crunching their breakfast toast in the little pool of sunshine by the kitchen window she turned to her friend.

  “I can’t thank you enough Sharon, this, having you here has made such a difference, you’ve no idea.”

  “Oh, come on love it’s my pleasure and I can see that it’s done you good. Anyway, I’ve enjoyed it. It’s been like when we were in training hasn’t it? Do you remember when you first came to the nurses’ home? You hated it at first didn’t you, but it was fun in the end.”

  “Yeah, it was. Anyway thanks again. There’s something else though, I have begun to think that maybe I should get a lodger. What do you reckon?”

  “But, I thought you wanted the place to yourself. Still, things have changed a bit I suppose and maybe you could do it just for a bit. Just until you get your confidence back. I’ll bet you can ask someone in HR and at least they’ll know the background of anyone looking for a place. Yeah maybe that’s it, for a while at least.”

  “Well, I’m off for today and tomorrow but on Monday I’ll go in and speak to them.”

  “Are you going to be okay tonight?”

  “Yeah, course I am and you need to get back to your own place. I don’t want Simon after me.” They stood and hugged and then Sharon threw her few belongings into the car and with a quick wave disappeared round the corner.

  Immediately when she was back on her own Fiona started bustling around the house. She changed the bedding in the spare room. Taking a few minutes to evaluate the bright little space, she nodded to herself. Yes, it would be a good room to let out. There was a tiny en suite with a shower and a built-in wardrobe. She would need to buy some sort of desk or table but then it would be fine, a good space.

  Back in the kitchen she loaded the washing machine and caught up on other housework by which time the sun was calling her into the garden. She took a cup of tea and sat on the patio gazing around, the sun on her face and the song made by the shushing of the tall plants swaying in the breeze unwound the muscles of her shoulders and she felt happy again.

  Deliberately working hard took her through the day and then in the evening she read until it was impossible to keep her eyes open and the words swam on the page. She made a point to take her shower early while it was still daylight and all she needed to do was climb up the stairs and slide into bed. The plan worked and sleep came easily and swiftly.

  In the early hours she woke to the darkness. The hairs on the back of her neck were prickling. She struggled to gain control; she wouldn’t panic, not again. Taking a deep calming breath she leaned over and turned on the light. Glancing at the window was reassuring, “There you are, no problem, the sensor light hasn’t come on.” She spoke aloud to the darkness, “Come on now, get out and go round the house. Everything is fine. Just go and have a look then get back into bed and go to sleep.” The sound of her own voice calmed her and with a determined step she strode out to the landing and without hesitation flicked on the light. Down the stairs, all okay, and into the kitchen.

  The room spun. Her heart drained. Her lungs lost their ability to draw in air leaving her gasping like a landed fish. As her knees gave way and her legs turned to jelly she fell against the wall. On the table under the windo
w there was a rose, a long stemmed rose. It was withered and dead, the leaves grey and brittle. The stem was tied with a black ribbon.

  Chapter 6

  Breathing suspended, heart thundering and knees threatening to let go at any moment, Fiona pushed herself to her feet and moved forward. The rose was central on the little round table, softly illuminated in a pool of moonlight. The cork mat and the salt and pepper shakers lay on the floor in the corner. It registered somewhere in her terrified brain: spilt salt, well that’s bad. It was within reach now. From a far place she watched her quivering hand reach towards the grey stem. One finger touched it. The soft solidity of it shocked her, she had thought it would be a mirage, a dream thing. She pushed it a little and it shifted, leaving grey dust on the pale wood. Her fingers curled around it and as she lifted it from the support of the wooden table it crumbled and dissipated; even the black ribbon disintegrated and now there was nothing but dust.

  Fiona looked down, now oddly calm. Her nerves had given up; it was as if she had blown a fuse. Her index finger traced a line through the dust as a sound escaped her. Almost a laugh, it manufactured itself somewhere deep in her throat and was expelled as she breathed for the first time since she had pushed herself away from the wall and stepped across the tiles.

  Lifting the grimy finger to her face she peered at the ends. Horror overtook her and she rubbed at the stain and cried out. Fierce rigors shook her limbs and torso, tears rolled down her face and she gasped as her lungs struggled to feed her blood with oxygen.

  Leaning forward she swept both hands across the table top, the dust clouded around her fingers and then dissolved, lost in the air. Smudges and thin particles stuck to the wood. As she stared at the cleared space the idea found purchase amongst her addled thoughts that she had destroyed any evidence that the rose ever existed. Overcome with the passions of the last few minutes she now forfeited the last strength in her legs and with it the ability to remain standing. She flopped heavily to the floor banging hard against the chair and jolting her spine.

 

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