The Hanging Time
Harriet Quinn Book 1
Bilinda P. Sheehan
Copyright © 2019 by Bilinda P. Sheehan
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.
Also by Bilinda P. Sheehan
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The Hanging Time - Harriet Quinn Crime Thriller Book 1
Death in Pieces - Harriet Quinn Crime Thriller Book 2
Splinter the Bone - Harriet Quinn Crime Thriller Book 3
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
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Chapter One
The messages wouldn’t stop. The incessant bleeping of the iPhone as it sat on the nightstand was like a pneumatic drill driving straight through her skull.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
It touched off the side of her can of pop and the vibration intensified growing tinny as it continued to buzz.
“Shut up!”
Fear overwhelmed her and she lashed out at the phone. It hit the soft fuzzy pink carpet next to her bed.
The noise dulled but only marginally.
She didn’t need to look at the phone to know what was being said. To know just what they all thought of her.
Whore. Slut. Slag.
Sian didn’t know which was worse, the constant noise in her head or the vitriol being dripped through the messenger app.
Creak.
The familiar sound of the third stair from the top caused her to pause. Her mother was out for the day with Nigel. Simply thinking about her stepfather turned Sian’s stomach. Not that she could tell anyone why he gave her the creeps. They wouldn’t believe her even if she tried. There was only one person who had believed her. One person who had listened and now he was gone.
“Mum.” Her voice was nasally to her own ears and she hated it. No wonder everyone thought she was a worthless piece of shit.
Silence slid back in around her, leaving her in no doubt that she was, in fact, still alone with her own misery.
It wasn’t the only thing which had fallen silent either. Leaning over the edge of her mattress, she stared down at the phone which had slid partially beneath the bed.
Tentatively, she reached for it. The voice in the back of her head warned her of the risk she was taking.
Of course, she knew there was nothing lurking under the bed, waiting for her to reach down. Nothing awaiting its opportunity to lunge out and drag her into the gaping void that the immature part of her brain believed existed amongst the dust bunnies and the boxes of mementos from her childhood that she didn’t have the heart to dump.
Quickly, she fumbled across the floor for the phone and when her fingers finally closed over the hard shell she retreated to the relative safety of the bed.
Ever since she’d been little, there had been some small part of her that feared dangling her limbs over the edge of the bed. It was an irrational fear. Yet it was one she hadn’t yet managed to shake.
Perhaps she never would.
The home screen lit up and Sian found herself face to face with her heartbreak.
There in all its digital glory sat the photograph of her and Aidan. His arm slung around her neck—typically protective of him—his lips pressed to the side of her head as he held her close.
Tears dripped, blurring his face. How was it possible that he was gone?
It seemed like some sort of cosmic joke, a sickening nightmare that at any moment she would wake from and everything would be as it should be.
Aidan shouldn’t be dead. He was supposed to be alive. Supposed to be prepping for exams just like she was. He wasn’t supposed to leave her alone and abandoned. He was the only one who knew the truth and truly understood. The only one who knew her secrets and her darkest shame.
“Together forever,” she murmured beneath her breath.
The phone buzzed, sending a jolt through her fingers.
Without thinking about it, Sian clicked through to the message and scanned the screen.
Bile raced up the back of her throat.
“You deserve to rot in hell for what you did to him, you fucking bitch!!!”
Sian’s hands shook so badly she dropped the phone onto the coverlet. How could they all think she was the one responsible for his death?
Aidan had committed suicide.
The phone let go another plaintive bleep and the message that flashed on the screen this time left Sian in no doubt as to the depths of her so-called friends’ hatred.
“You should kill yourself, Slag!”
Closing her eyes, she drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. Gently, she rocked back and forth on the bed.
It wasn’t fair. She wasn’t the cause of this. She hadn’t done anything wrong. The lies they’d made up about her were just that—twisted and bitter lies. She loved Aidan—would never cheat on him.
“Please just stop,” she whispered under her breath as another message slithered through.
Sian opened her eyes and peered down at the phone screen.
The snapchat icon bore Aidan’s name and Sian’s heart stalled in her chest.
“I’ll always be here for you.”
It wasn’t possible. He was dead. He couldn’t be sending her messages.
“I love you. Together forever.”
She scooped the phone up and replayed the message. It couldn’t be Aidan…
Creak.
The noise was closer, practically outside her bedroom door. Sian would have known the sound anywhere. It haunted her waking hours and kept her from sleeping most nights. She’d lain beneath the bedcover she was currently perched on top of enough nights and listened to that noise.
Fear wrapped icy fingers around her heart.
“Aidan, is that you?” The moment the words left her mouth, she felt stupid. Aidan was gone.
She glanced down at the phone but it had fallen silent. The messages he’d sent were gone. But hope made her brave as she slid to the edge of the bed.
Silence swept back in around her. He w
asn’t here and she was just imagining the noise.
She had to be.
Sucking in a deep breath, Sian pushed up from the bed and crossed to the bedroom door. Steeling her resolve, she jerked the door open and peered out into the darkened hall.
Nothing.
The landing was empty. Stepping out into the hall, she scanned the staircase and found none of the imagined horrors waiting for her there.
“Hello?”
The house tossed her voice back to her in the form of an echo. Even that mocked her. Drawing her courage around her like a mantle, Sian moved to the top of the stairs. The house really was empty; her mind was just creating scenarios that would bring Aidan back to life again.
Retreating back to the safety of her bed, Sian sat on the edge of the mattress and picked up her can of pop. The fizzy liquid slid down her throat causing her to cough. She finished the drink and slipped fully clothed beneath the bedsheets and tugged them over her head.
Her tongue tingled with the remnants of the bubbles.
At least the other messages had slowed to a trickle.
Sian watched the fading afternoon light drift across the floor as her body grew heavy. She couldn’t even pull a sickie in the morning. Nigel would be here all day and the last thing Sian wanted was to spend the day alone with him. It would simply be the icing on an already shitty cake.
Not that she had any intention of going into school either. Facing the music wasn’t her jam. No instead, she would go to their place. Their hideaway from the world. And it was there she would stay until this all blew over.
Satisfied with her plan, Sian ignored the creaking of the house and pulled her locket from inside her shirt. Popping it open, she stared down at the small image of Aidan she kept there—always closest to her heart.
Tears soaked into the pillow beneath her cheek, their salty taste coating her tongue as she closed her eyes. Perhaps if she slept, she would see Aidan again. If they couldn’t be together in this life, then at the very least they could be together when she slept.
Aidan swung her around, his arms tight on her waist as he smiled down at her. There was a sharp sting in her neck, reminding her of a bee-sting she’d experienced as a child. She jolted in his arms but Aidan continued to smile at her, seemingly oblivious to the pain she’d felt.
When she awoke, the pillow was damp and cold beneath her face from the tears she’d shed in her sleep. Sian fumbled to draw the quilt back over her frozen limbs but her fingers lay frozen next to her face. She tried to stretch her cramped legs out toward the end of the bed but there was no response.
Fear gripped her heart as she realised she was no longer alone in the dark.
The soft murmur of voices from downstairs caught her ear and Sian tried to open her mouth and found herself unable to. She willed her body to move but nothing happened.
As she lay on the bed with her eyes half-lidded, she watched the shadowy shape of something move softly around her private domain.
The shape picked up one of her teddy bears from the dresser where she kept them stacked, turning it over in the half-light that crept in through the blinds. Sian’s eyes slid shut. Her throat was dry, and her head was beginning to pound.
“Just wake up.”
Willing her eyes to open, she was pleased to find her eyelids at least obeyed. The figure melted from the darkness and crept toward the bed.
It was a nightmare. It had to be.
It was residual trauma after everything that happened.
Were the monsters beneath the bed real after all?
It was all nonsense but Sian struggled to make sense of what was happening. Her mind, as well as her body, was sluggish and refused to cooperate.
She fought to send the signals to her arms and legs to move but there was no response. Despite the fog clouding her judgement, Sian was acutely aware of how exposed she was without a quilt to hide beneath.
“Please, just wake up.”
The monster crossed the room and crouched down next to her. She tried to cringe away as a gloved hand came out of the darkness and brushed over her hair, pushing it out of her face.
Footsteps on the stairs. The shadows froze.
Sian’s eyes drifted closed of their own volition and she struggled to open them again.
Creak.
The same floorboard she’d heard earlier. Only this time, she knew who had paused outside her bedroom door.
Sian could imagine her mother standing there. They shared the same blonde hair and blue eyes.
The weight of the duvet slipped over her icy body and the stranger tucked it up around her chin, careful to ensure she could breathe.
Sian’s tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth as she struggled to cry for help. If her mother would just come in, if she would just push open the door, she would know something was wrong.
But Sian knew she wouldn’t.
They’d argued about it often enough. In her mind, Sian could hear her words echoing back to mock her.
“Can’t I have any privacy in this house?”
There was a soft knock on the door and Sian’s heartbeat hammered against her ribcage. Her lips felt as though they were glued together—vocal cords petrified—the only sound that slipped out was a low moan. But it wasn’t enough.
“Sian, it’s Mum. Do you want to come down for some dinner?”
In her head, Sian was screaming but her useless body refused to cooperate. Her mother wouldn’t come in and for the first time in her teenaged life, Sian wished she would ignore her commands to respect her privacy and throw the door wide open.
She wanted to thrash and scream, anything that would raise the alarm.
“Please, Mum! Please!”
There was a pause and Sian felt her hope rise. The floorboard outside her room creaked again as her mother’s weight shifted.
“Please, Mum, just come in.”
“All right then, love, I’ll leave something for you in the microwave in case you get hungry later.”
Sian’s fingers spasmed against the bedcovers as her mother’s footsteps receded back down the stairs, leaving her alone in the dark with the shadow.
Footsteps scuffed over the soft carpet and the sound of excited breathing caught Sian’s ears. The mattress dipped as the monster sat on the edge of it.
Closing her eyes, she willed it to leave.
Leather gloved fingers brushed against her cheek.
“Good girl.” The voice was gruff, breath moist against her cheek as the monster leaned over her. “It’ll be over soon. And then it won’t hurt anymore. It’s what you want isn’t it?” It paused as though expecting an answer and in the half-light through the blinds Sian watched it cock its hood-covered head to the side as though it were listening to something only it could hear.
“I’ll make it all better. I won’t let him hurt you anymore. I’ll take the pain away. Just like I made Aidan’s pain disappear.”
Terror gripped Sian as the meaning of the words sank in. It turned her limbs to jelly and a tremor started up in her body.
Aidan.
Aidan had committed suicide. Hadn’t he?
The monster lay down on the bed next to her, wrapping its arms awkwardly around her body, pinning her beneath the duvet.
Flashes of memory made her think of Nigel and his excitement in the dark.
Breath moist on her cheek, the weight of his body holding her down. His whispered platitudes and threats in the dark.
Who would believe her?
There had been a time when Sian had welcomed the safety of her bed. When she had loved the weight of her quilt as she curled up beneath it.
But not now.
Now it was a tomb and as she lay in the dark, tears trickled down her cheeks and into her ears.
She was trapped.
The monster had killed Aidan.
There was something terribly defeating in her thoughts as they swirled in her head. The knowledge that someone as strong as Aidan couldn’t prevail against the mons
ter who now lay in her bed was crippling. If he couldn’t stop the inevitable. Then what chance did she have?
Because in the dark she was at the monster’s mercy.
Sian knew where that kind of mercy would take her and she was helpless to stop it.
Chapter Two
Detective Inspector Drew Haskell propped his elbows on the roof of his BMW and buried his face in his hands.
Suicide.
The word tasted of bitter ashes in his mouth. He was only too familiar with the pain and confusion that followed such an act. That was the problem with gaining first-hand knowledge of something.
Pushing his emotions aside, Drew straightened up and scrubbed his hand over his mouth. The days-old stubble prickled beneath his palm and he sighed. There would be no getting home early for a wash and a quick kip.
He glanced over in the direction of the back garden as the SOCO’s with their large cases headed around the side of the two-storey white rendered house.
It looked so ordinary, so unsuspecting. He’d practically driven past the place when he’d gotten the call.
Death was a normal part of life. The job had taught him that long ago. But suicide was different. There was no rhyme nor reason to it. The convoluted inner workings of the human mind were a mystery to him at the best of times but when you added a suicide into the equation it left him feeling utterly at sea.
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