Under The Woods: a heart-stopping police thriller (The Forensic Files Book 4)

by K. A. Richardson

  ‘Adler like Irene Adler from the Sherlock Holmes books?’

  He looked surprised, ‘Yeah, exactly. I’m a massive Sherlock Holmes fan – I got her as a pup and trained her myself. It was fitting she should have a kick-arse name like that.’

  They stopped at the tack room door, and Billy pushed it open for them to enter.

  TJ set the flask and toast down on the small table in the corner. ‘Help yourselves.’ She hugged her arms round her chest tightly. Billy introduced himself to Ali and his colleagues, and there was an awkward silence, which she, as hostess, felt compelled to break. ‘So, what happens next?’

  ‘Me and Adler will go and see what we can see. Ali, where’s the search area?’

  ‘This way,’ Ali motioned out of the door, with Jackson and Billy following. TJ paused for a second, then followed also. If anything was there, she needed to know.

  They hadn’t even reached the back of the stables before Adler started pulling at her lead and whimpered loudly, straining to reach the mound of earth. Billy let her off the lead as they rounded the corner to the rear.

  Adler ran to the pile of disturbed earth, sat on her haunches and barked loudly, staring at Billy intently while she did so.

  TJ didn’t need to be a cop to know that meant the dog could smell death. Her mouth dropped open in shock. And she was suddenly blinded by intense pain spreading to her head from her jaw.

  For fuck’s sake, not again…

  Somewhere in the distance, she heard Jackson shout her name, felt strong arms catch her as she toppled forward and then, nothing.

  * * *

  18th December, 0920 hours – park near Acre Rigg Senior School, Peterlee

  Matthew sat on the swing, his hands on the icy cold chains, rocking back and forth. He was in his uniform and should have been at school – he’d made the promise to himself last night that he wouldn’t give his aunt anything else to worry about.

  But he hadn’t been able to face school – he’d been too worried that DI McKay wouldn’t take his phone call seriously. He hadn’t slept at all through the night – getting ready for school at his aunt’s request had been done on autopilot. It had taken him hours of mulling things over before he’d finally plucked up the courage to ring the detective.

  He’d been as quiet as a mouse as he’d rummaged in the drawer of his bedside cabinet to find the card that he’d been given after he’d been told that his dad had hanged himself in the police cell. He remembered being numb – he’d already known his dad was bad news, had suspected for months that he’d hurt his mum. He’d seen more in the nursing home too – but he hadn’t wanted to believe his father was capable of hurting his mum.

  Just holding the card had brought all the memories flooding back – all the emotions his counsellor had been helping him deal with.

  He’d eventually hidden in the bathroom, so he didn’t wake his cousin, and sobbed silently on the bathroom floor. It wasn’t fair, this. I saw all that stuff, and I didn’t help my mum. I can help now – that dead person’s family should know where they are. But what if he finds me?

  Those thoughts had run in circles round his young brain until he was almost ready to explode. If he didn’t tell when he saw something bad, then that would make him almost as bad, wouldn’t it? And if he did, he risked Barry finding out. It wasn’t like he didn’t know Matthew already – Barry had helped in the lessons, at times, and was always at the stables. But if he didn’t tell, then he’d be letting TJ down as well as everyone else.

  So, he’d made the call – and now, he was stressed to the point of tears worrying that the detective had ignored the call.

  Ring again, then? He needs to know I was telling the truth!

  His phone still had the detective’s number stored on his dial list. It’s not like it would be hard to hit call again.

  Despite being scared, he pulled his phone out and hit dial again before he could change his mind. The phone rang twice, then cut to voicemail.

  Matthew couldn’t leave a message. Anything he’d thought to say at that point got stuck in his throat. So, he hung up the phone.

  Bile rose in his throat, and he leaned to the side and threw up.

  He’d never felt so unsure of anything and so confused. Maybe I should go to the station and speak to him in person?

  But Matthew knew he couldn’t do that. That would mean everyone would know what he’d seen – and he couldn’t put his aunt or his mum in that kind of danger. He couldn’t risk Barry finding out it was his fault that he’d been found out.

  A solitary tear escaped from his eye and ran down his pink cheek.

  What am I going to do?

  * * *

  18th December, 0940 hours – abandoned school, near Durham

  Barry had gone back to the school instead of going home – he tried to sleep in his leather chair in the office. He really did. For all of ten minutes. Then, he’d made the decision sleep wasn’t going to come.

  So, he’d grabbed the tool kit he always kept under the passenger seat of his car, and screwed the front door shut. He’d also made sure the accessible windows on the ground floor were screwed shut.

  Anger had simmered all the while. Who the hell did she think she was, not trusting me? I’m trustworthy, damn it. She’s going to wish she’d never left when I get my hands on her.

  The thoughts kept running around his head – he wouldn’t acknowledge he was hurt by her leaving. Because that meant he would have to admit he’d had feelings in the first place. She should have trusted me. I will make her trust me.

  He had to try. She would trust him, and he’d give her a second chance to be his Angel. No one had ever escaped before – no one had ever wanted to. His Angels all trusted him. And he took care of them.

  Like he would take care of her.

  He checked his watch for the tenth time over the last sixty minutes. If he left now, he’d make it to the hospital in time for when visiting hours began. And he’d find a way to get her back to the school. He needed her to come with him, to trust him.

  He left the tool kit in the office – no need for tools when he was heading straight out. The engine purred to life without problem – not that he had anticipated any issues. He respected his car – took care of it. Like he would take care of her.

  Barry needed his Angel. And he would do anything to get her.

  * * *

  18th December, 0950 hours – Rainbow Riding Stables

  TJ made quick work of feeding the horses – she was embarrassed that she’d passed out again – in front of everyone. The quicker the consultant arranged her surgery, the better. Like it wasn’t bad enough with the crunching noise her jaw made at moments when silence reigned – she couldn’t keep passing out like that. It was dangerous, as well as embarrassing.

  She knew it was a stress reaction – it happened too often not to be. But it didn’t get any less embarrassing when the man she liked had to swoop in like a knight in shining armour and catch her before her head hit the concrete floor of the stable yard.

  She shook her head and muttered under her breath as she placed the last feed bucket into the holder on the side of the stall. This time of year, she bulked the horses’ feed with extras like molasses and oats – it helped them maintain a good weight through the winter months and protected them against the cold. And Domino needed the extra sustenance to support feeding Lightning.

  TJ spared a minute to glance over at her mare – Domino had already shoved her nose into the bucket and was munching contentedly – she paid no heed to the bustle in the stable yard. As long as all those strangers didn’t come near her foal, she was happy to leave them be. Lightning seemed to have grown already – at less than a week old, her tummy had filled out, and she had that curious look that all foals had. Constantly assessing whether things were friend or foe. She knew TJ was her friend and wandered over so TJ could pet her nose.

  Forgetting what was going on outside for a moment, she scratched the top of Lightning’s nose, smil
ing as the foal leaned into her touch. It was good that she trusted TJ so early on – she needed a lot of training and human contact at that age.

  ‘TJ, are you done? I only ask ’cos Ali is asking everyone to head back up to the house, except me and Kev. We need to get started processing, and there’s too many people around.’

  ‘Yeah, I’m done. I’ll head back to the house now. Sorry it took so long – but the horses needed feeding, and there’d have been a lot of door-kicking if I hadn’t done it now. It was late enough as it is.’

  She could see Jackson had clicked into work mode. He was in his uniform with a package containing a white scene suit in his hand. She’d seen the cops put another cordon round the top of the yard entrance – Jackson had told her the yard fell within the outer cordon – she was fine in that area but couldn’t go behind the stables now.

  TJ shuddered – she wouldn’t want to go there, anyway. Didn’t know how she would ever want to go there again. The cadaver dog had reacted to a scent – Ali and Jackson both thought there was a body buried behind the stables. Her stables.

  It was almost too much for her to process.

  She bolted the stable door shut, double-checking the handle was down – she knew from experience that Domino could be cheeky at times and open the bolt.

  Standing still for a minute outside the stable, she took in a deep breath. The smell of horses, manure, snow and fresh air all separated in her brain, and she identified each scent separately, trying to remain calm.

  Jackson obviously mistook her breathing for distress as he took her hand and pulled her into his shoulder. ‘It’ll be okay,’ he said quietly.

  TJ looked up at him. ‘I know.’

  Jackson leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. Just a peck, a way of comforting her when he thought she was distressed. It was a sweet gesture – TJ smiled at him.

  ‘I’m okay. Don’t worry about me. Go do your thing. Though, I have to admit, I really do hope the dog is wrong, and there isn’t a body behind my stables.’

  Her attempt at dry humour made him smile.

  ‘I’ll do my best not to find a body. Now, scoot. Me and Kev need to get started before the weather changes.’

  TJ nodded and headed up the track to the farmhouse.

  20

  18th December, 1000 hours – Sunderland Royal Hospital

  Barry was standing in front of the lifts wondering which floor to start with. There were two floors listed with surgical wards – he presumed she’d need surgery of some kind, whether to fix her cheek where she’d fallen or another injury she’d incurred when she’d escaped.

  That thought made his breath hiss out between his teeth. He still couldn’t wrap his head round the fact she’d escaped.

  He drew in a slow, shaky breath. Stay in control. It would not be good to lose it right now.

  Each floor had four different wards. That was eight choices for her location. He’d have to use process of elimination. It was the most efficient way.

  The lift arrival sounded with a loud ‘ding’, and he made his way inside.

  He didn’t make eye contact with anyone and didn’t speak – not wanting to draw any attention to himself. He knew the risk was low. No one knew him – anyone seeing him would assume he was there to visit someone. Which wasn’t that far from the truth.

  The lift stopped at floor two, and he followed the other three people leaving. Two turned right, and one turned left.

  Barry paused for a minute, glancing up at the ward numbers at either end of the short corridor. Deciding to go chronologically, he made his way towards ward twenty-one.

  The entrance door to the ward opened on his approach, and he stepped through. Aware he had to blend in if he had any hope of finding Sally, he paused and applied the anti-bacterial gel to his hands like the instruction poster just inside the ward corridor said to.

  He’d never been on the ward before, but he figured there’d be about six multi-patient rooms and a few private rooms at the end of the corridor where the nurse’s station was situated. It was pretty much the norm, no matter which ward a person went on.

  The first side room was for men – the second, women. He paused at the bed allocation board outside and quickly scanned the names. Sally had been the first Angel to tell him her name – he hadn’t asked. She’d volunteered the information at one point when she was begging him to let her go. He didn’t know her surname – didn’t need to. He figured Sally was a rare enough name nowadays that there wouldn’t be many people admitted with that name over eight wards.

  There was no Sally on the first board so he continued to the fourth side room. When the second women’s room also yielded no results, he moved onto the third.

  Barry could feel his frustration rising as this one also showed no Sallys.

  ‘Can I help you, sir? Who is it you’re looking for?’ The young nurse smiled at him expectantly.

  ‘My friend, Sally…’ he coughed covering up the fact he didn’t know her surname. ‘Sorry, I’m a little nervous. I don’t really like hospitals. Sorry.’

  ‘That’s okay, none of us do either,’ she grinned, trying to placate him with her attempt at humour. ‘We don’t have a Sally on the ward at the minute – is this definitely the ward you were told?’

  Barry smiled back at her. She was young, eager to please, not yet jaded by years working in such a stressful field. She was pretty too. Her name badge read “Jasmine.”

  Realising he hadn’t answered, he nodded. ‘This is ward twenty-two, isn’t it?’

  Jasmine shook her head. ‘Nope, this is twenty-one – head back out of the main door and go into the ward opposite. That’s twenty-two.’

  ‘Great, thanks. Hope your shift goes quickly.’

  Barry turned and walked back the way he had come – Jasmine was a very pretty young thing. He wondered for a minute whether she would make a good Angel. But she was too young and in a nursing role – she’d have family and friends. All of them would miss her and report her missing, if he took her. Pretty, yes – but one of his Angels? Not a chance.

  * * *

  18th December, 1020 hours – Sunderland Royal Hospital, Ward 32

  Sally slowly opened her eyes, blinking slowly several times as the room came into focus. She had a vague recollection of waking earlier and knowing she was in hospital, and this room confirmed it. She was alone in the room, huge windows beside her bed that looked out over buildings. Not really buildings she recognised, either.

  She felt a pull in her wrist and realised there was a line feeding clear fluid to her body. What do they call that again? A calena? It’s something like that. Why does it even matter, anyway? It’s giving me drugs. What do I care what it’s called?

  When the door clicked open Sally froze, expecting it to be him. Memories came flooding back, and panic filled her mind. Her head swung side to side, looking for an escape route. But there wasn’t one.

  When the ward sister walked into the room, Sally’s breath whooshed out of her lungs loudly.

  ‘Well, hello there. Good to see you’re awake. How’re you feeling?’

  The nurse deftly wrapped a blood pressure monitor cuff around the top of her arm and pressed a couple of buttons on the machine by her side.

  ‘Okay, I’m okay.’ Sally’s voice was hoarse and croaky – the nurse poured a glass of water from the jug on the table without speaking and handed it to Sally, who took a few sips that rapidly turned into gulps.

  ‘Easy, slow down. You don’t want to make yourself sick. Do you know where you are?’

  ‘Hospital.’

  ‘What day is it?’ The nurse smiled at her, encouraging her to answer.

  ‘Umm, I…’ Sally paused trying to formulate her thoughts. It had been Thursday – maybe. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘That’s okay, sweetie. What about your name – can you tell me that? They’ve all been calling you Jane in here, but I don’t think that’s your name, is it?’

  ‘No – not Jane. Sally. My name is Sally
Amari. Well, technically it’s Sarah, but everyone calls me Sally.’

  ‘Good – Sally it is.’ The nurse sat on the edge of the bed. ‘I’m Carol. I’ll be on duty all day today. Do you know what brought you here?’

  ‘An ambulance?’ Sally grinned – it was the first time she’d felt able to make a joke in forever. But she made it – because the way she felt right now, if she didn’t see the humour in her situation, she’d break down. And there was absolutely no point breaking down – it wouldn’t achieve anything.

  ‘I need to speak to Sergeant Donaghue from North East Police.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll try and contact him. Your injuries look like you were hurt running – is there a reason you were outside in bare feet in the middle of nowhere?’

  ‘I want to speak to Sergeant Donaghue.’ Sally knew she had panic in her voice but she couldn’t help it. She trusted Sergeant Donaghue – she didn’t trust anyone else at that moment in time. She’d tell him what had happened because he was helping her with Danial.

  Sally drew in a shaky breath and leaned her head back against the pillow. Do not break down. Do not break down.

  The nurse left her room, closing the door with a soft click, leaving Sally alone with her thoughts.

  Sister Carol Young paused outside the room and put her hand on the outside of the door. Whatever had happened to that woman was not good. She had a gut instinct about these things and was almost always right. She used the wipe block and cleaned the name Jane Doe off the door plaque. She wrote the name Sarah Amari, then made her way to the nurse’s station, so she could ring the police.

  * * *

  18th December, 1040 hours – Sunderland Royal Hospital

  Barry was getting frustrated. So far, he’d been on seven of the eight possible wards, and he had yet to find his Angel. Frustration was making him angry – his cheeks tinged with bright red. Ward thirty-two loomed in front of him. This had to be the one. She had to be here – it was the last one. Unless she’s been discharged already. Unlikely, though, since she was admitted.