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

by K. A. Richardson

  She decided that cooking would help – she’d already planned on a big pan of hearty soup with crusty bread for tea – she knew she had a part-baked cob in the freezer. It didn’t take any time at all to knock up a large pan of lentil and bacon soup – all it needed later was blending and reheating. By the time she’d finished, the house smelled amazing, and the front door opened as Jackson came inside.

  ‘Hiya, love,’ he said, dropping a quick kiss on her forehead. She noticed straight away he’d taken his white suit off and was in the standard black CSI uniform. ‘I’ve only got a minute, just wanted to pop in and say hi. That soup smells amazing.’ He snagged a spoon from the drawer and tasted it, groaning appreciatively.

  ‘Haven’t eaten since breakfast. That tastes lush.’

  ‘It’s for us tonight, if you think you’re still coming over?’

  ‘I will be – don’t know what time, though. Kev’s called in some CSIs from south of the county who’ll be here any minute. The images of the clearing show more bodies. Another seven, to be precise.’

  TJ went white. ‘Seven more? How the fuck did that monster manage to get eight bodies into that clearing? How long have they been there?’

  ‘It’s been going on a long time – the archaeologist said that a few are just bones now, some have a little more flesh on them, and some are relatively recent – she won’t know exactly how long until the bones are brought out and examined properly, though. Identification’s going to be a complete bitch.’ Jackson paused as he realised TJ looked as though she was going to throw up.

  Her hand flew to her mouth, and she bolted for the sink, emptying the meagre contents of her stomach into the empty washing up bowl.

  ‘Sorry, that’s my fault, I shouldn’t have said all that. You didn’t need to know the details.’

  TJ coughed and wiped her mouth before swilling some water round her mouth and quickly rinsing the bowl.

  ‘No – it was my fault. I wanted to know. I needed to know. I just don’t understand how he could have been doing that under my nose, and I didn’t have a clue. I never even suspected. I feel so bloody stupid.’

  Tears pricked her eyes, and Jackson grabbed her and pulled her to him in a tight hug. ‘You weren’t to know – how could you have? It’s not like he went around with a neon light on his head saying “I’m a killer,” is it? I met him – I thought he was okay, too. None of this is your fault.’

  ‘Those poor people, though,’ she mumbled against his chest. Then gathering her strength, she pulled back and looked at him. ‘You’re going to catch him, right? He won’t come back here?’

  ‘I very much doubt it. He’d have to be mad with all the cops crawling all over the woods – they’re in process of doing a general search around the clearing. You alright? Can I call Jacob for you? I need to get back to it.’

  ‘No, you’re fine. Go. See you tonight when you finish. Don’t worry about what time.’

  Jackson gave her another quick kiss, then walked out of the front door.

  27

  19th December, 2300 hours – Rainbow Riding Stables

  When Jackson left, TJ saw to the horses then had a hot shower, feeling every muscle ache as she moved. She dressed for comfort, and the fleece-lined joggers sat snugly on her hips, the oversized t-shirt baggy but still showing every curve.

  She made her way downstairs, using a hand towel on her hair as she walked.

  A soft noise at the front door made her jump, but she decided, on checking her watch, that it had to be Jackson getting back.

  Flinging open the front door, she froze, sudden fear gripping her as she saw Barry standing on her doorstep, glaring at her in anger.

  He shocked her by pushing the front door hard into her so she stumbled backwards.

  ‘You. This is all your fault. They found my Angels! They’re mine! What right do you have, you cheeky bitch. You’re going to pay for this.’

  Barry advanced towards her, and she felt her breath fill her lungs as she struggled to remain calm and not let panic take over. She positioned her weight evenly on her feet, spreading slightly and bending a little at the knees.

  When he raised his fist to hit her, TJ blocked the punch before it landed, using an upper-cut with her right hand, swinging into the punch to give it maximum impact. Barry’s head flew backwards, and he stumbled, his hip hitting the door frame with a bang.

  His face grew redder, and his eyes blazed as he went for her again.

  But again, TJ’s self-defence training kicked in, and she blocked his advance, using her knee this time, pulling it up hard into his stomach.

  Barry doubled over with a loud grunt, and TJ kicked the shoulder nearest to her. He stumbled backwards, tripping on the bottom of the door frame and falling awkwardly to the floor. He groaned loudly, but TJ didn’t wait for anything else. She slammed the door, quickly secured the lock and glanced around, looking for something she could use to block the doorway. Deciding on the large unit in the hall, she got behind it and pushed it up against the door, only then reaching for her mobile phone and dialling 999.

  * * *

  19th December, 2305 hours – Rainbow Riding Stables

  The weather man had been right – rain pounded against the car park as Jackson pulled in finally. It had been the longest day. He was exhausted and felt like he could sleep for a week. The CSI team, along with a team brought in from a neighbouring force, had worked alongside the archaeologist to dig up four of the remaining bodies, getting them all bagged and tagged and off to the mortuary. The same teams were coming back tomorrow to recover the remaining three. Kevin had called on the fire brigade to put a canvas over half the clearing, the half with the three remaining bodies inside. It was relatively flat terrain, so the chance of it flooding was limited, according to them.

  All rest days had been cancelled for the next few days. Kev had even called in the two who were off on annual leave and still in the country.

  He stopped the car and pulled the key out of the ignition and put his head on the steering wheel for a minute. What a fucking day.

  The rain on his car sounded as though he could be in a bunker with a tin roof – so similar to his days in army cadets when they’d gone camping, living on the ration packs provided whilst trying to get their Duke of Edinburgh awards. The bunker had essentially been their HQ before they set off. Those were the days. He hadn’t thought about the Duke of Edinburgh hikes in years.

  He grabbed his waterproof coat off the chair beside him and pulled it tightly round him, yanking the zip up as best he could when confined in the driver’s seat. He was about to open the door and make a run for the house, when he saw a shadow in the treeline.

  It was large, and only visible because the outside light of TJ’s home shed a dim glow over the entrance to the woods.

  Straining his eyes, he focussed on the movement as best he could. Is it… a man?

  It certainly looked like it. He knew that there were two cops on the outer cordon at the crime scene, didn’t envy them that job at all tonight, but the shadow wasn’t acting like he was a cop.

  He watched as the shadow dipped onto the now well-trod path that led to the lanterns and down to the crime scene.

  Definitely not a cop.

  Jackson opened the car door, pulled his Maglite from his belt holder and ran for the tree line. He grabbed his mobile while he ran across the car park and quickly rang 999.

  ‘It’s CSI Docherty from Sunderland – there’s an active crime scene at Rainbow Riding Stables – believed multiple murders. I’ve just pulled up in the car park, and there’s a man heading towards the crime scene on foot. It’s not one of the cops. Can you send dogs as well, please? It’s pissing down and blowing a hoolie, so I doubt the copter will be flying – dogs will have to do.’

  He hung up the phone and went to cram it back in his pocket, not noticing it had missed and fallen to the floor behind him.

  His Maglite beam lit up the path in front of him – and, quite far ahead now, the figure of a
man in dark clothing, who started running – he must’ve realised the torch beam was focussed on him.

  ‘Oi, stop!’ shouted Jackson, running after him.

  The heavy rain had made the ground soggy, what little was left of the snow now more like slippery slush. Jackson wasn’t in control of his feet as he slid in places. The figure ahead had stopped moving towards the crime scene and was running around it.

  Jackson heard crashing noises coming towards him from the cordons, and one of the cops came into view.

  ‘That way!’ shouted Jackson over the pounding rain and shining the torch in the general direction.

  The cop took the lead with Jackson following.

  * * *

  19th December, 2320 hours – woods near Rainbow Riding Stables

  Barry hadn’t been able to resist. He had to see his Angels. He’d known it wouldn’t be easy – figured there would be cops hanging around.

  He’d approached the long way, past TJ’s house and into the woods from there, believing there would be less chance of him being seen. Then, he’d seen the cops doing patrol around the area and had panicked. Panic that had been quickly followed by a surge of anger. Needing someone to blame, he’d gone to the house. He never would have pegged TJ for having such fight – his stomach ached, and his face smarted from being punched and kicked. He knew now he’d never have managed to take her and regretted even approaching the house. So, he’d run.

  His feet slid on the muddy slush covering the floor of the wood as he ran, cursing himself for his timing. If I’d waited an hour, like I thought, then I wouldn’t be being chased right now.

  Barry didn’t know how far back the cops were – he could hear them, shouting at each other as they ran after him. They’d have called for back-up, too, no doubt. His only option was to keep going until he reached the end of the woods, then cut across to the main road. He knew they wouldn’t see him on the field – it was far too dark. The kind of pitch black that was great for hiding in.

  Until some moron catches you with his torch beam, anyway. Idiot.

  He knew the woods like the back of his hand, but right now, the trees were all melding into one, and he wasn’t quite sure where he was. He knew it was left at the massive oak and straight on from there, but he couldn’t for the life of him see the oak.

  Barry was gasping for breath now – working with the horses kept him fit, but his broken ribs hadn’t healed yet and were protesting at being forced to breathe quicker as he ran for his life. Pain pulsed with each step he took, but he kept going. He knew if he got caught, that would be it.

  No more visiting his Angels.

  Ever.

  The ground beneath his feet changed from the squishy undergrowth of mud, rotting leaves and roots, to something harder.

  Suddenly, Barry realised where he was – he’d completely missed the big oak – was nowhere near it, in fact. His arms flailed outwards, and he screamed, long and hard, as he slipped off the edge of the rocky outcrop. The air rushed around him, almost in slow motion, and he screamed again, seconds before he hit the rocks at the bottom of the twenty-foot drop.

  Then, other than the rain falling on his face, there was silence.

  Barry’s open eyes stared up at the black sky, not blinking.

  The sharp rock that had shattered the back of his skull slipped slightly, and his blood mingled with the water pooling at the base of the rock.

  * * *

  19th December, 2330 hours – woods near Rainbow Riding Stables

  Jackson’s torch light picked up the man’s shadow hovering in mid-air then vanishing. The cop stopped running suddenly, aware of something that Jackson couldn’t see. Jackson barrelled into his back, not able to stop in time.

  The cop moved forward, losing his balance.

  Jackson grabbed the back of his stab vest and pulled him backwards, more out of instinct than knowledge of the edge of the rocks.

  They both fell back, the cop’s weight giving Jackson more momentum, and he tried to put his arm out to break his fall. His elbow connected with hard stone, and a loud crack reverberated around the wood. ‘Aarrgghh,’ Jackson grunted loudly, intense pain shooting up his arm.

  The cop got up first, grabbed Jackson’s torch and took tiny steps towards the edge of the rocks. He hadn’t noticed Jackson was injured, but Jackson knew. He made no attempt to get up, his clothes soaking up water that felt instantly freezing against his skin. Gingerly, he tried to straighten his arm, in the hope that he’d be able to get to his feet. But the slightest movement made him cry out in pain. He hugged his arm to his chest and used his other arm to push himself up to a sitting position.

  ‘Well?’ he shouted, needing to over the sound of the rain.

  The cop turned around and shook his head.

  ‘Smithy? I didn’t know it was you in front of me. Help me up? I think I broke my arm?’

  Smithy held out a hand, and Jackson grabbed with the uninjured arm, using his weight to stand as much as Smithy helped by pulling.

  ‘You wearing a belt?’ asked Smithy.

  Jackson nodded. ‘Yeah, but I can’t undo it. My fingers are like ice.’

  ‘Speak of this to anyone, and I swear I’ll deny it and make your life hell,’ said Smithy, holding Jackson’s Maglite under his arm and using both hands to unhook Jackson’s belt and pull it free. Efficiently, as if he’d done it before, he looped it round Jackson’s shoulder and arm, fastening it so his arm had support.

  Jackson grimaced at the pain and tried to smile at Smithy. ‘Not a word will pass my lips, mate. So, he’s dead?’

  ‘Judging by the grey matter and claret covering those rocks – I’d say it’s a definite yes. I’ll call in mountain rescue to assist with recovery. Oh, look, here’s the cavalry,’ he said with a grin, as three cops and the police dog burst through the trees.

  * * *

  20th December, 0830 hours – Sunderland City Police Station

  ‘Some people will do anything to get out of a day’s work,’ joked Kevin as he pulled a chair out in the conference room for Jackson. ‘You sure you’re okay covering the meeting, cuz?’

  ‘Yeah, definitely. It’s just a broken elbow. My gob still works. Get yourself back to the crime scene. And thanks for the lift in today.’

  ‘Did you say TJ is picking you up from here later?’

  Yeah – I’ll sort out the jobs on the board and allocate them to whoever’s joining us from the south of the county. I’ll do the office stuff too. Can do computer work with one hand.’

  ‘Aye, well, just take it easy. When you’ve done all that get yourself off. A&E is no fun at this time of year.’

  ‘You’re not wrong. Five hours I was there for. With a few drunken winos who’d hurt themselves being pissed up in the toon, a pissed lass who had mascara all over her face and a cut on her arm, and a teenager who wouldn’t stop crying. Don’t think I’d describe it as fun.’

  ‘Is it a clean break, did they say?’

  ‘He said I might need surgery, but they can’t assess it for a couple of weeks until the swelling goes down. He’s put a splint on it for now, then the sling, obviously. It’s a shitter, though – glad it’s my left arm and not my right. I couldn’t do bugger all, if it was my right. It’s bloody sore, but they’ve given me some drugs. I don’t want to be spaced out at work, so I’ll take them later.’

  Kevin put his hand on Jackson’s shoulder, offering silent support, and left the room just as Alex, Ali and the rest of the team dealing with the murders filtered in.

  Epilogue

  Sally Amari sat in one of the interview rooms just off reception, waiting for Ali to enter. He’d asked her to come down as he finally had news of Danial and wanted to tell her in person.

  It had been almost two weeks since she’d been taken out of the hospital for her protection. The police had put her up in a hotel at first – Christmas had come and gone in a blur – she’d helped out at the Salvation Army Christmas dinner and been fed as a thank you. The council had helped h
er get set up in a small flat and helped her sort her benefits out so she could survive and pay her bills.

  She had all her furniture – Donaghue and Ali had arranged a donation centre with their colleagues. Part of her felt awful accepting charity, but she accepted it was for her benefit, and no one had ever done anything like that for her before.

  Sally had been in the flat now for a few days, and it still felt surreal. The detective inspector from the hospital had been the one to tell her that the man who had kidnapped her was dead. He’d even offered his shoulder as she wept.

  Sally wondered why he’d called her to the station. He’d been so supportive since she’d told him about her kidnapper coming to the hospital – even insisting she call him by his first name, but normally, he contacted her by phone or came to see her.

  The door opened, and Ali stepped inside.

  ‘Hi, I’ve got someone here to see you, if it’s okay?’

  Confused, Sally nodded. And when her son peeked round Ali’s legs into the room where she sat, she screamed and jumped to her feet, dropping to her knees in front of him as tears fell down her face.

  ‘Danial, do you remember me?’ Her heart hoped against hope he did – he’d only been two, though. There was a good chance he wouldn’t.

  ‘Mama,’ he cried, throwing himself into her arms.

  Sally held him tightly, promising over and over that he’d never leave her again.

  Ali stood in the doorway, tears in his own eyes – he couldn’t imagine the hell she’d been through. He was a small cog in a big machine – the Interpol agent behind him was smiling widely too. Both knew an outcome like this was rare.