by M A Comley
LOST INNOCENCE
DI Sally Parker #5
M A Comley
Jeamle Publishing Limited
Contents
Other Books By M A Comley
Keep In Touch With The Author:
Acknowledgments
Prologue
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
Epilogue
Note To The Reader
Other Books By M A Comley
Blind Justice (Novella)
Cruel Justice (Book #1)
Mortal Justice (Novella)
Impeding Justice (Book #2)
Final Justice (Book #3)
Foul Justice (Book #4)
Guaranteed Justice (Book #5)
Ultimate Justice (Book #6)
Virtual Justice (Book #7)
Hostile Justice (Book #8)
Tortured Justice (Book #9)
Rough Justice (Book #10)
Dubious Justice (Book #11)
Calculated Justice (Book #12)
Twisted Justice (Book #13)
Justice at Christmas (Short Story)
Prime Justice (Book #14)
Heroic Justice (Book #15)
Shameful Justice (Book #16)
Immoral Justice (Book #17)
Unfair Justice (a 10,000 word short story)
Irrational Justice (a 10,000 word short story)
Seeking Justice (a 15,000 word novella)
Clever Deception (co-written by Linda S Prather)
Tragic Deception (co-written by Linda S Prather)
Sinful Deception (co-written by Linda S Prather)
Forever Watching You (DI Miranda Carr thriller)
Wrong Place (DI Sally Parker thriller #1 )
No Hiding Place (DI Sally Parker thriller #2)
Cold Case (DI Sally Parker thriller#3)
Deadly Encounter (DI Sally Parker thriller #4)
Lost Innocence (DI Sally Parker thriller #5)
Web of Deceit (DI Sally Parker Novella with Tara Lyons)
The Missing Children (DI Kayli Bright #1)
Killer On The Run (DI Kayli Bright #2)
Hidden Agenda (DI Kayli Bright #3)
Murderous Betrayal (Kayli Bright #4)
Dying Breath (Kayli Bright #5)
The Caller (co-written with Tara Lyons)
Evil In Disguise – a novel based on True events
Deadly Act (Hero series novella)
Torn Apart (Hero series #1)
End Result (Hero series #2)
In Plain Sight (Hero Series #3)
Double Jeopardy (Hero Series #4)
Sole Intention (Intention series #1)
Grave Intention (Intention series #2)
Devious Intention (Intention #3)
Merry Widow (A Lorne Simpkins short story)
It’s A Dog’s Life (A Lorne Simpkins short story)
A Time To Heal (A Sweet Romance)
A Time For Change (A Sweet Romance)
High Spirits
The Temptation series (Romantic Suspense/New Adult Novellas)
Past Temptation
Lost Temptation
Keep In Touch With The Author:
Twitter
https://twitter.com/Melcom1
Blog
http://melcomley.blogspot.com
Facebook
http://smarturl.it/sps7jh
Newsletter
http://smarturl.it/8jtcvv
BookBub
www.bookbub.com/authors/m-a-comley
Acknowledgments
Thank you as always to my rock, Jean, I’d be lost without you in my life.
Special thanks as always go to my talented editor Stefanie Spangler Buswell and to Studioenp their superb cover design expertise.
My heartfelt thanks go to my wonderful proofreaders Joseph Calleja and Emmy Ellis @ Studioenp for spotting all the lingering nits.
And finally, to all the wonderful Bloggers and Facebook groups for their never-ending support of my work.
Thank you to Steven Jay for allowing me to use his name in this book.
Prologue
Jeff Ryland and the group of boys he hung out with dispersed, all keen to get home for their tea after the adventure they had just been on. After leaving school and dumping his schoolbag, he’d joined up with them, like usual, for a couple of hours. His parents, just like most parents, were eager to get the boys out from under their feet, so any homework they had would be completed in between having their evening meal and bedtime.
The small woodland close to the estate where he lived was an absolute treasure, full of secret nooks. Some of them, the boys had only recently discovered, adding to the group’s excitement.
Jeff hung around with five other lads his age. Most of the time, they behaved and avoided getting into trouble by keeping themselves adequately occupied. They were often classed as a mischievous crowd rather than a troublesome one.
On a Thursday in May nineteen eighty-five, after saying farewell to the rest of the group, Jeff was busy kicking at stones and generally dawdling on his way back home. His mum would be late—she always was on Thursdays because she cared for her ill father in the afternoon, giving the regular carer some much-needed time off. His father worked long shifts at a factory and wasn’t around much during the week, while his older brothers did their own thing after school, which always excluded him.
Up ahead, an older group of kids hung out on the street corner. Jeff’s pace stalled, and he considered crossing the road to avoid walking past them, but his mother’s warning about crossing High Common Road when it was busy prevented him. He swallowed hard, placed his hands in his pockets, dropped his head and marched ahead.
He could feel the group staring at him. He’d caught a few words they were saying before they fell silent as he got closer. It sounded as though they intended to rob one of the local shops .
Shit! I need to keep my head down and ignore them.
A smaller lad with ginger hair put paid to that plan when he intentionally stood in Jeff’s path.
Jeff mumbled an apology when he bumped into him.
The boy shoved him hard in the chest. “Oi! What do you think you’re doing? Didn’t you see me?”
Jeff gulped loudly. His chin on his chest, he said, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m going to be late for my tea. Sorry.” He tried to manoeuvre around the boy, but the lad obstructed him.
The rest of the gang roared with laughter—all except one boy who Jeff knew really well. He glanced sideways and issued a silent plea to the other boy, who turned away and refused to come to Jeff’s assistance.
The ginger-haired lad prodded Jeff’s chest—harsh jabs that intensified with each touch. “I want to hear you apologise, squirt.”
Jeff sighed and let out a juddering breath. His words caught in his throat and he apologised under his breath again.
The ginger lad punched Jeff’s upper arm and leaned in close. “I can’t hear you, dipshit.”
Jeff closed his eyes, forcing the tears back. He feared his heart was about to jump out of his chest. The beat had become erratic, and breathing was difficult. He was prone to having panic attacks, so he knew that if he didn’t slow his breathing down, an attack would be imminent. With the lout goading him and the rest of the gang egging him on, Jeff didn’t see how he could. Again, he glanced sideways at the boy he knew. The other boy’s head dropped, and he shuffled his feet, obviously feeling embarrassed by the
situation.
“I said I’m sorry. Please let me pass. I need to get home.”
“Aww…did you hear what the petrified mouse said? He needs to get home. Probably wants to cry in his mummy’s apron. Is that right, pipsqueak?”
“No. My mother isn’t at home…” His voice trailed off when he realised what he’d just said.
Numbskull, why don’t I learn to keep my mouth shut?
“Is that right? Well, maybe you want to hang out with us for a little while, eh? That’d be fun, right? ”
“I can’t. I’m sorry, not tonight. I’d love to another day. Just not tonight.” He raised his head a little, enough to see the ginger boy’s anger flare up in his ruddy cheeks.
“Refusing to hang out with us—do you really think that’s an option, squirt?”
Jeff’s breathing notched up a little. His small chest expanded and deflated rhythmically. “Please, I have to go. I don’t want to be late.”
“Late for what? You’ve already told us that your mummy isn’t at home. Who else is there waiting for you?” The ginger lad’s question was accompanied by a flat-handed jab to Jeff’s midriff.
He doubled over in pain, tears pricking his eyes. He was at a loss for what to do next. If he ran, they would give chase and catch up with him before he got a few feet, so that wasn’t an option. Running out of ideas, he again glanced sideways at the boy he knew. He avoided eye contact altogether, though. Jeff’s heart sank from his chest.
Help me, please!
The other boys laughed, mocking Jeff and calling him vile names.
“Let’s use him,” the gang leader said.
Jeff knew the leader only by his nickname, which was Fletch, after Fletcher from the TV show Porridge. Jeff swivelled his head to look at Fletch. He turned away quickly at the boy’s scowl. It was too late—Jeff’s actions had obviously angered Fletch.
A moment later, Fletch was standing beside Jeff, only inches away. He had little control over his body and felt the panic rising up from the pit of his stomach, constricting his heart, and venturing into his throat. He tried to speak, but the words failed to form. He was in danger of passing out and his breath failed to find its normal course through his nose.
“You up for a little job, squirt?”
Fletch’s hot breath brushed the side of his face, and Jeff closed his eyes. He was petrified, getting more and more scared with each passing second. “Please, I just want to go home. I have homework. I need to do it before I go to school tomorrow.”
The gang laughed. All except one. Jeff glanced his way again, silently sending out a plea for help.
The boy did nothing. He just stood there, watching those around him as if he was too afraid to admit to the gang that he knew Jeff .
Not wanting the situation to become worse than it already was, Jeff decided not to dob the boy in. He had a feeling the boy would come to his rescue if Jeff really needed his help.
Or is that just wishful thinking?
Fletch took another step forward and placed an arm around Jeff’s shoulders, squeezing him so hard that any breath he had in his tiny body was immediately forced out. He tried to replace the breath, but his fear got in the way. With no oxygen left in his lungs, his focus blurred. Confused, he had no idea how to breathe for himself any longer. Fletch’s grip tightened even more. The panic overwhelmed him before Fletch could give him instructions what to do next. Jeff’s legs gave way. The group laughed again when he ended up on the ground at Fletch’s size-eight feet.
Finally, the boy he knew stepped forward and tried to help. “Leave the lad alone, Fletch. We’re wasting time on him. We’ve got a job to do, remember?”
“You’re right.” Fletcher turned to the ginger lad and said, “Ging, get rid of him. Take him in the alley and knock seven bells of shit out of him and send him on his way.”
The ginger lad grabbed Jeff by the scruff, forcing him to his feet.
“Please, I don’t want any trouble. Let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone,” Jeff pleaded.
Fletcher reached out and placed a hand around Jeff’s throat, cutting off his breath. Jeff clawed at Fletch’s hands, trying to pry his fingers loose. “You better not, boy. Take your punishment like a man. Now go, get out of my sight.” He cast Jeff aside forcefully.
Jeff staggered as Ginger pushed him. His shoe fell off, and he scrabbled to pick it up before Ginger grasped his arm and continued to shove him along the road and into the alley a few feet away.
“The boy done bad talking to Fletch like that. No one—you hear me?—no one talks back to Fletch. That’s disrespectful, squirt. And disrespect warrants a slap. Now be a good boy and take what’s coming to you, and I’ll let you go in a second or two. If you fight me or try to run away, you’ll only make things worse for yourself, got that?”
Jeff sniffled, tears streaming down his face at the thought of what lay ahead of him.
The blows came thick and fast. It wasn’t long before his body refused to take any more. His legs buckled, and he dropped to the ground. Once Jeff was down, Ginger used his foot. Not gentle taps but large, heavy swings of the legs, aimed at Jeff’s stomach, chest and head. Jeff’s breathless pleas went unheard. It wasn’t long before everything became dazed. He could feel himself slipping into unconsciousness.
Before everything went totally black, a familiar voice shouted, “Jesus, what have you done, you fucking moron? What have you done? Jeff? Jeff, are you all right?”
Chapter 1
Sally Parker was in the process of tearing apart the lounge. “Where did I put my damn handbag? Simon, have you seen it?”
She glanced up. Her grinning fiancé was leaning against the doorframe, her handbag thrown over his shoulder. He entered the room, swaying his hips as he walked towards her. “Does it suit me? I’ve often thought about investing in one of those man bags.”
Sally laughed then straightened her face. “You buy one of them, Mr. Pathologist, and you can kiss our wedding goodbye.”
His face was a picture, and his mouth gaped open for a few seconds before Sally laughed.
“You really can be the most gullible man at times.”
He threw her bag on the couch and reached for her, pulling her into his arms. “Gullible, am I? Hey, if I didn’t know you any better, I’d think you keep making up all these excuses intentionally so as not to marry me. A man could easily get a complex, you know.”
“What? Does that mean I’m not even allowed to make a joke any more?”
“Jokes are okay, but there’s also that saying ‘many a true word is spoken in jest’. It does make me wonder sometimes if you truly want to be Mrs. Sally Bracknall. After all, it’s been a year since I asked you to be my wife.”
Sally leaned back, her gaze meeting his. “Are you serious? Simon, you know how much I love you. Dad’s accident put paid to our initial wedding plans. You know that. We both agreed it would be better to postpone the wedding until he was better.”
“He was better a few months later.”
Sally had trouble figuring out if Simon was being serious or not. “But then your business took off, and the extra hours you and Dad were putting in on the houses got in the way. That’s what delayed things—not me. ”
He kissed her tenderly. “I know. I was only messing with you. Right. Tonight, we make a deal and sit down properly to discuss the wedding, okay?”
Sally extracted herself from his arms and opened the coffee table drawer. She withdrew a huge file and placed it on the surface. “The wedding folder. I’ll leave it here to act as a reminder for when we come home this evening.”
“I’m thinking we should forget all about that and just elope. I hear they do a decent service up in Gretna Green, if you’re willing to give it a go.”
“What? Are you serious? Or are you winding me up again?” she asked, because Simon did have a penchant for doing just that at times.
“Although I was joking,” he said, “maybe we should consider it, with money being so tight at present. Of
course, our immediate families need to be there. They’d probably lynch us if we truly eloped and didn’t invite them.”
“Reading between the lines—what you’re really trying to tell me is that you’re too tight to fork out for a wedding with all the bells and whistles.”
“I am not . If it came to the crunch, I would apply for a loan if I had to.”
“What a great way to start off married life—with a huge loan over our heads. And there was me thinking you were rolling in the green stuff.”
His mouth gaped open again.
Sally sniggered. “Catching flies won’t help. Surely you don’t think I was being serious.”
He shook his head and smiled. “Not in the slightest,” he said unconvincingly.
“I’ve got to dash, and you should be going, too. We’ll sit down and thrash this out when we get home this evening, all right?” She kissed him, picked up her handbag and rushed out the front door.
He appeared on the doorstep when she approached her car. “See you later, Sally. I love you, no matter what we decide.”
“Ditto, Simon. I’d be lost without you around to wind up every day. Have a good one.” She gave him a toothy grin.
He smiled and shook his head. “You, too.”
Sally set off for Wymondham Police Station, which was a good twenty-minute drive from Simon’s plush home. She caught herself smiling when she reflected on how lucky she was to have him in her life after her divorce. She cringed as Darryl’s sneering face entered her mind. She was well shot of him, thank goodness. He was locked away in the depths of a prison in the Highlands in Scotland, for not only sexually assaulting her but also for interfering with another prisoner she was trying to help.
That prisoner’s case was the first of many Sally had been tasked with investigating after a retired police officer’s gross misconduct had come to light. Her team, which had been part of the murder squad, had become a cold case team. Once their investigations began in earnest, it soon became apparent that dozens of innocent people were languishing in prison because of DI Falkirk and his appalling actions.