Her Final Hour: An absolutely unputdownable mystery thriller

by Carla Kovach

  He hurried along the roadside and out of the town until he finally reached the house he shared with his wife, Melissa. As usual it was in darkness. He let out a laugh as he put his key in the lock and turned. ‘Melissa,’ he called. The only sound was his feet echoing in the hallway as he felt for the light switch. Then the silence was broken by little Mia’s piercing cry.

  As his eyes adjusted, he noticed the streak of blood along the hallway. His heart began to pound as he crept towards the kitchen, stepping to the side of the blood. Mia’s screeches turned into a whimper. ‘Melissa?’ He placed his ear against the door. The only sound coming from the kitchen was the humming of the fridge. He gently opened it and his knees buckled as he saw his wife tied to one of their carver chairs under the light of the cooker hood. A piece of blue cord was looped under her chin and the raw marks around her neck told him exactly what had happened. He gazed around the room. There was no one there and the back door was closed.

  When he reached his wife, he felt her wrist for a pulse but there was no heartbeat to be found. He stepped back as he stared at her expressionless face. Almost stumbling, he grabbed the worktop to steady himself as the kitchen began to sway. He’d never seen a dead person before, let alone someone so close to him.

  Mia’s cries filled the house. He almost fell as he ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs, passing another pool of blood. He flung open Mia’s bedroom door and saw the screaming toddler standing in the middle of the room, hair soaked from all the tears. Her usual auburn wispy curls were stuck to her sweaty forehead. He scooped her up and ran downstairs and out of the house. His daughter began to shiver as he held her in the cool night air. Opening the car door, he bundled her in. With shaking hands, he grabbed his phone from his pocket and called the police.

  ‘Emergency, which service?’

  Three

  Gina tipped the taxi driver and dragged her case along the damp path. The security light lit up the path ahead. Ebony ran around the side of the house and began rubbing her head against Gina’s legs. She’d only had a long weekend away in Mallorca. Anyone would think she’d been gone a month. ‘I suppose you’re sick of dried food, Puss,’ she said as she put the key in the lock and entered her cold lounge. A relaxing three-day bargain break, to think and rest, was what she’d truly needed.

  She thought back to the last conversation she’d had with Chris or DCI Briggs, as she’d now address him, seeing as their five-month long, casual relationship was over. Keeping it a secret from her team had been tough. She’d made him believe it was the secretive nature of their relationship that had ended things. He’d kept pressing her to talk about her past and it had seemed easier to cool things down. Discussing her relationship with her late husband Terry wasn’t something she really wanted to do. Although he had seemed understanding, there are some things a person of his position would not understand. Her secrets were her secrets. They were nibbling through her flesh like worms trying to eat their way out of an apple, but, as far as she was concerned, the apple could rot and take her with it. Terry and all her tainted memories would never leave. That was her burden to bear.

  As she walked over to turn the gas fire on, she yawned. She needed to sleep. She squeezed a pouch of meat into the cat’s bowl and left Ebony chewing in the dark kitchen.

  The flight hadn’t been a long one but the wait at the airport had seemed like forever, especially after the delay. The unpacking could wait until she finished work the following day. She turned off the main light and closed the curtains before slumping on the sofa. Grabbing the snuggle blanket that was folded up on the footstool, she dragged it over her tired body. Having three days off had been wonderful, something she hadn’t experienced for a while given the fact that they had been so underfunded and understaffed for such a long time. That short break had been much needed. She hadn’t fully recovered from the last major case she’d worked on over the Christmas period. The break had given her time to reflect on what had happened and move forward.

  She stared at the flickering flames that were slowly trying to draw her into a hypnotic trance. Through sleepy eyes, she checked her messages. Nothing from Hannah yet, but then she wouldn’t expect her daughter to call at this time as her little granddaughter Gracie would be in bed, and the young mother would no doubt be exhausted. Mind you, her daughter could be in any number of moods. She expected nothing. Her finger brushed past the last message that Briggs had sent.

  I miss you and I really thought we had something good. I won’t message you again but I wanted you to know, I’d love it if we could talk. I need closure, need to know what I did wrong. X.

  She wouldn’t know where to begin. Had he done anything wrong? How would she start to explain? Yes, when policing was only a pipe dream, my ex-husband would beat and rape me. Yes, he died after falling down the stairs one night after drinking too much – oh and I helped him on his way. It was easier to say that the relationship wasn’t working because it was unprofessional, her being a DI and seeing her DCI. Besides, if the powers above found out, one of them would most likely be transferred. Her job in the little town of Cleevesford meant more to her than any relationship, especially one that she was never going to give her all to.

  Her head nestled into the cushion and her focus moved back to the flickering flames. As her breathing deepened and the fire’s warmth flooded through her body, she sank into a restful slumber.

  She stirred and opened her eyes as the phone rang. Maybe Hannah was in one of her good moods after all. ‘Hi, love,’ she said as she closed her eyes and held her phone to her ear, not wanting to fully wake up.

  ‘Hi, love to you too, guv. Holiday’s over,’ Detective Sergeant Jacob Driscoll said. ‘Welcome back.’

  She opened her eyes and sat up. ‘Sorry, I’m half asleep. I thought you were Hannah. I’ve only just walked through the door and I’m still on holiday until seven in the morning.’

  ‘Sorry to bear this news. Briggs has called in all units, as there’s been a major incident. Wyre and O’Connor have been called to the scene too. Did you have a nice time by the way? Dancing, cocktails?’

  Gina checked her watch. It was just gone eleven. ‘I got some sleep if that counts as nice. What’s happened?’

  ‘A woman, Melissa Sanderson, thirty-five years old, has been found dead in her home on the outskirts of Cleevesford. The call was made by the woman’s husband, Darrel Sanderson. He called 999 about twenty minutes ago. He’d just got in from the pub. Crime Scene Investigators are on the way too. I’ll meet you there.’

  ‘Bloody hell. I’ll head straight over. Message me the address and postcode.’ She rubbed her eyes and stared ahead. The holiday was well and truly over and it was back to work.

  ‘Get this, guv. It looks like strangulation from what’s been reported so far. She’s been tied to a chair in the kitchen. I’ll send you that message now. On my way. See you there.’

  Gina went through to the kitchen and downed a glass of water. She patted the feeding cat’s head, grabbed her car keys and ran out of the front door. As she thought of the scene she’d be entering, she shivered. Strangulation, tied to a chair – a brutal murder.

  Four

  Selina heard her husband, Rob, slipping in through the utility room, almost silently removing his shoes and overcoat before entering the kitchen. He crept past their American style fridge freezer and skirted around the large island, being careful not to tap any of the stools. Selina continued straightening up her dress and buttoning up her fine knit cardigan. She always wanted to look her best for when Rob returned. He placed his arms around her waist. ‘You made me jump,’ she lied as she turned and stood on her tiptoes to receive his kiss. She inhaled the rosy perfume that followed him as he continued kissing her. It definitely wasn’t her scent. Feeling him harden beneath his jeans, she glanced into his blue eyes before turning away. ‘Your dinner’s almost done and you have guests in the drawing room. Do you want to eat now or later?’ Sometimes he wanted to eat, other times he didn’t, but she
always had a meal waiting for him.

  He shrugged. She gazed up at him with her large hazel eyes. She knew he’d like to take her there and then, while thoughts of another woman were still fresh in his mind. She needed to let him. She needed to banish thoughts of other women from his mind, make sure all he thought about was her. She lifted the hem of her dress, bit her bottom lip and bent over the worktop. She still had it. He needed her and she knew it – guests or no guests. She’d never stopped him before and she knew he would be quick and quiet. As she turned, her mouth opened, inviting his tongue to find hers. He slipped down her lacy pants and unzipped his jeans. Within moments, he’d closed his eyes as he took her against the worktop. Always with closed eyes. She wanted him to look at her while they were making love. As he reached his end, she wanted to cry. Instead, she made a discreet moan in his ear. That was all he needed. She kissed him on the head and quickly moved aside, patting her hair back down. She would be the only woman in his mind now and that’s all that mattered.

  ‘Your friends are waiting. What did you say about dinner?’ she asked as she forced a smile and pulled her pants up.

  ‘I’ll have it when they’re gone,’ he said.

  Although she wished he only ever thought of her, she continued smiling as she arranged the cupcakes on the platter. All the effort she made was for him and she wished he’d show a little more appreciation. She hoped he’d like the blend of lavender colour she’d managed to mix, and how it perfectly complemented the yellow flowers she’d moulded out of icing. She wanted him to appreciate the pie she’d made just for him, and the work that had gone into perfecting her pastry skills. Their house always looked like a show home. Some recognition would be welcome.

  Voices came from the lounge. He poked his head around the corner and came back. ‘Selina? What have you not done that you should’ve done?’

  Her gaze travelled from her clothes, to the worktop, to his almost-made dinner. The Jersey Royals were nearly cooked and she’d planned to finish them as soon as he declared it to be food time. The home-made steak pie was on a low heat in the oven, ready to ramp up at the same time the potatoes went on. Timing was everything. The carrot batons she’d so expertly prepared were all the same length and were parboiled. Ten minutes would be all it took from his request for dinner, to dinner being plated and on the table. As she passed the bi-fold doors, she checked her appearance in the reflection. The dress she’d changed into just before the guests had arrived was one of Rob’s favourites. He always said baby blue suited her. Her travelling gaze met his. ‘Is my make-up smudged? You want the poker table setting up?’

  ‘Guests?’ She placed her hand over her mouth. He slapped her bottom as she jogged past him, her glossy hair swinging as she sashayed out of the kitchen and along the corridor of their mock Georgian mansion, before entering the drawing room. She’d play the good hostess as she always did.

  ‘What can I get you all to drink?’

  ‘I think we should crack open the brandy,’ Dan replied as he smoothed his comb-over.

  ‘Brandy on ice coming up,’ she said with a smile. ‘How are we all tonight?’

  Lee nodded and Ben smiled. ‘We’re all good, Selina,’ Dan replied. ‘Better for having seen you. It’s always a pleasure.’

  She smiled and blushed, enjoying the compliment. Since her two children had grown up and left home, she’d felt a little lost. They’d always appreciated everything she’d done for them. She just wished her husband did too; and that he wouldn’t come home smelling of another woman’s perfume. She always tried her best to be his all. She didn’t need a fancy job, a degree or the opportunity to go out and play at being a ladette. She just wanted to be a good wife and mother. He was her life. She made the home the beating heart of their lives. She kept him happy. And he’d wanted her as soon as he came home. That said a lot. If he’d been with another woman, he wouldn’t have wanted her – would he? Doubts flashed through her mind as she thought of the Viagra he kept in his wallet. He must have taken a pill recently to have been so quickly aroused by her when he arrived home. Had he taken the pill to screw someone else, then got turned down? Was she his second choice? It wouldn’t be the first time. Thoughts dashed through her mind. Was it someone he’d met at the pub? Someone who worked for him? She’d find out who he was trying so hard to impress. He wasn’t fooling her. The weight loss, the extra hours in their home gym, the new fitted shirts. It all led to one conclusion.

  Re-entering the kitchen, she grabbed the brandy from the drinks cabinet and poured a perfectly matched measure into four glasses.

  ‘My little perfectionist,’ Rob said as he leaned against the worktop, smoking a cigar.

  She added two lumps of ice to each glass and put them onto a tray along with the cupcakes. She passed him a brandy and wandered back to the drawing room.

  ‘Thanks, Selina. Beautiful cakes,’ Lee said as he took a glass from the tray. She beamed a smile at him. The other two took a drink and the group continued talking. ‘Is Rob around?’

  ‘Of course I am.’ He entered the large room. The huge swags of curtains reached the floor and shut out the rest of the world. Selina stood back as they all clinked glasses. ‘Selina, would you leave us be? We need to talk.’

  She brushed her hair behind her tiny ears and smiled as she left. Closing the door, she placed her ear against the grain, listening from the hallway. All she heard was muffled voices. She hated it when he shut her out like that. They were meant to be partners in everything and it felt as if she was slowly losing him.

  Her heartbeat quickened as the doorbell rang. She almost skidded along the hallway, reaching the kitchen as Rob stepped out of the room, and opened the front door. ‘Come through,’ he called. Her husband led someone into the drawing room. As he closed the door, she crept back and resumed her position.

  Startled by a loud bang, she jumped. It sounded like someone slamming a drink down. She hoped it wasn’t on the antique sideboard that had been in her family for three generations and she hoped whatever had been slammed had missed her Tiffany lamp.

  She moved her hair from her face and leaned in again, her ear almost sucking the door. After a few muffled words, the sound of their laughter filled the hallway. ‘Selina,’ Rob called. Her heart skipped a beat. She combed her hair with her fingers and counted to five before opening the door.

  He called her over and whispered in her ear. ‘You can go and clean yourself up and I’ll have dinner in a short while.’ She knew full well what a short while meant, but she’d wait for him, as she always did.

  She gazed at the furniture, looking for damage. Only one thing was out of place. She snatched her paperweight and returned it to its usual place. It belonged next to her Tiffany lamp. It couldn’t be out of place – nothing could. Everything had a home. She gazed at the sideboard, looking for any evidence of damage. She breathed a sigh of relief, it was all intact.

  ‘Oh, get our guest a drink. Bring him a brandy will you?’

  ‘Will do.’ Her gaze met the new man’s blue eyes.

  Five

  Gina could see all the commotion from afar. Portable lights shone through the trees that lined the driveway. A small forensics team had gathered outside the house as they waited for further instruction. Police were applying an outer cordon to keep the public from entering the scene, not that there were any members of the public hanging around in the quiet rural location. The most attention they’d attract in these parts would be late night drivers’ rubbernecking as they passed.

  Gina watched as the man sitting in the back of PC Smith’s car cradled a toddler. He looked awkward as he tried to position the fidgeting child. Smith passed him a blanket. It was all happening. She pulled up alongside DS Jacob Driscoll’s car and stepped out into the cool night.

  ‘That’s your holiday cut short, guv.’ Jacob rubbed his eyes as he approached her.

  ‘Aren’t they all? I must say, this was a bit of a shocker. I’d only just walked through my door as you called. Anyway, no re
st for the wicked, as they say. When you called me you told me that the husband was first on the scene,’ Gina said.

  ‘Yes. Darrel Sanderson. He’s sitting in Smith’s car at the moment, with his daughter. He arrived home just after ten thirty. He’d been out to the Angel Arms. Smith was the first officer on the scene. The ambulance beat him by a couple of minutes and the paramedic confirmed that Mrs Sanderson was indeed dead. Smith then called Crime Scene Investigation and here we all are now.’

  ‘Who’s the Crime Scene Manager?’

  ‘Bernard Small. Here he comes now. Crime Scene Investigator Keith Freeman is working the scene too.’

  Bernard stepped around the side of the building as he zipped up his protective suit. He moved his beard cover aside and waved Gina over.

  ‘Bernard, DI Gina Harte. We’ve met before. Is there anything you can tell me so far?’ she asked as she walked towards him.

  He straightened his back and towered over her with his wiry physique. His unkempt grey beard was half tucked under the top of his forensics suit. ‘We haven’t been here long but I’ll give you what we have so far. I haven’t entered the kitchen, we were waiting for you to arrive but I have looked through the kitchen window and lighting has been rigged up in the back garden. The victim, whom we believe to be Mrs Melissa Sanderson, is tied to a kitchen chair. Her feet are bound to the chair legs and her arms are bound to the chair arms. She is also tied around the waist to the back of the chair. I suggest that we all tread the route we’ve been taking, just follow everyone else.’