Angel's Trap : Book 1 of The Secret of the Oxpen's Angel : Read One Of The Most Gripping Women's Crime Fiction Novels Here!

by Lei R. Tasker

  Heart jumping, Paige noticed that her and Ella shared several physical features. Judging by her height relative to the doorway, they were around the same height, they were similar builds, and Ella had the same deep chocolate hair, tied in a high ponytail as Paige’s often was.

  With another jolt, Paige noticed a tattoo on Ella’s leg, a tattoo that closely resembled the ink stamp that Paige had seen on Eckland’s paper. A lioness, far more detailed than in the stamp, sat up proudly. Was it Ella’s stamp? Did she mark Eckland’s papers with an ink stamp after making notes on them?

  “Did you know her?” A voice said from behind her. Paige turned around to see a woman in her early 20s.

  “No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come...” Paige said, turning around and heading back out of the crowd.

  “Wait!” She heard the woman yell, but she didn’t stop to turn around. Tears beginning to fill her eyes, she strode down the footpath towards home.

  As she walked, her mind was clouded with questions. Did Eckland lie? And if so, why? Who was Ella to him? What was the lioness symbol for? Had the attacker mistaken her for Ella that night?

  She was overwhelmed with the thought that her attack and Ella’s death were connected. She began to wonder if it was a coincidence that they both knew Eckland, and if not, she wondered if Eckland knew her attacker.

  The Ecklands had seemed so innocent to her - eccentric, certainly, but well-meaning and kind-hearted. They welcomed her into their home, made her dinner, introduced her to their son. She briefly wondered about asking Leo about Ella next time she saw him but dismissed the thought. She had already gotten him tangled up in the Rufus mess, and her suspicions about her father didn’t mean that she had any reason to be suspicious of Leo.

  She pressed on, trying to push the nagging worries from her mind and focus on home. No doubt her mum would have made a delicious dinner, perhaps not as delicious as homemade paella at the Ecklands, but something comforting, familiar and satisfying. That was exactly what she needed today.

  She turned down her mum’s road and pursed her lips in frustration – Rufus’ Audi was waiting outside her house and he was sat in the front seat.

  He saw her approaching and jumped out. She started walking faster, heading for the front door, trying to cut in front of him at the gate, but he blocked her way, holding the front gate closed.

  “Paige, please,” he said, and she could see that he hadn’t slept. His eyes were red and bloodshot, his hair was unkempt, and his clothes were wrinkled, as if he’d slept in them. She glanced back at his car and noticed a blanket and pillow on the backseat.

  “Rufus, leave me ALONE,” she yelled, more forcefully than she had intended, but the combined stress of the day had left her emotionally drained.

  He put his hand on her wrist in a bid to hold her there and she slapped it away, anger rising in her, “Get the fuck off of me,” she growled.

  The shouting drew Tom and her mum outside. Realising what was happening, Tom marched out, pushing Rufus out of the way of the gate and back onto the pavement.

  “Come on, I just want to TALK,” Rufus yelled, pushing Tom back.

  “I told you last time, Paige doesn’t want to hear what you have to say, mate,” Tom was already seething, and Paige’s anxiety had overtaken her.

  “I didn’t sleep with those women-” Rufus was interrupted by Tom jumping at him, pushing him over so that he had to steady himself on the garden fence. Paige was amazed at how fierce Tom was being – he was usually so level-headed. Sleep with those women? Plural? I thought he had only kissed the woman at the New Year’s Eve party, Paige thought to herself. Something about his story wasn’t adding up, and as much as she wanted to understand, she was too exhausted to listen.

  “Tom, stay out of this,” Rufus said gently, pushing himself up and backing away.

  “Leave,” Tom said firmly.

  “Paige, I’m a terrible person, but you have to let me explain, you don’t know the full story..” Rufus was again interrupted, this time by Tom’s fist which landed with a crack against Rufus’ jaw.

  “TOM!” Paige’s mum cried, running from the doorway to the gate, “What are you doing?!”

  Rufus was clearly dazed, but shot straight back up, retaliating with a punch that sent Tom into the front gate. Paige’s mum cried out, catching Tom and pushing him back up, who lunged at Rufus again, pulling him against his car by his shirt.

  The two men grappled with each other for a moment, Paige’s mum running into the street to try and pull Tom away. Paige felt disconnected, as if she was floating above everything, unable to help. She could hear herself shouting “STOP IT! STOP IT!” but it didn’t feel like her mouth was moving, she couldn’t control the sound.

  They fell against the car hard, breaking the wingmirror. Tom threw another punch, which caught Rufus in the side of the head, stunning him for a moment. Rufus launched at him again, pushing him backwards.

  Tom fell hard, one foot on the pavement and one in the road. He was thrown completely off balance and, in an instant, had hit the floor. A vile crunch could be heard as Tom’s head hit the edge of the curb.

  He lay motionless, blood streaming out into the road. Paige’s mum let out a howling scream, stumbling to Tom’s side and sliding down to her knees. Paige was silent. Reality alluded her. She could see the blood, her mum crying and screaming and Rufus silently backing away and phoning an ambulance, but she couldn’t feel any of it.

  She sank down beside her mum, hand over her mouth, willing herself to lose this numbness, to feel the moment, to understand what was happening. But, she couldn’t.

  CHAPTER TEN

  TOM’S BROAD FRAME HAD never looked so small as it did among the starchy white sheets of his hospital bed. His head looked strange where they had shaved it, his wild grey hair was completely gone from the right side of his head. The bare skin was either red with swelling, or orange from the iodine they had used during surgery.

  Paige rotated between sitting with her mum and pacing up and down the corridors outside the ICU, still not sure how to process the events of the previous afternoon.

  At 6am, after no sleep, a watery cup of tea and a floppy ham sandwich from the canteen, Paige phoned Eckland to explain what had happened. He expressed his condolences and reeled off some unrelated Shakespearean quotes, adding that she was free to take as long as she needed before returning to work.

  Paige returned to Tom’s room and handed her mum a chocolate bar from the vending machine, “Please eat something, mum.”

  “Thank you, love. Maybe later,” her mum pocketed the bar and wiped her eyes. Paige’s chest tightened as a memory hit her – four years ago, her dad laying motionless in a hospital room just like this one. White crinkly sheets. The smell of disinfectant. Get well soon cards. Her mum had the same look – that helpless stare. Paige turned away, trying not to cry. Her mum needed her to be strong.

  A few minutes later, a doctor knocked and entered, brandishing a piece of paper, “I have some information,” and giving it another thought, “Tom Delford?”

  “Yes, that’s right,” Paige’s mum replied, “I’m his wife, Sarah Webb, this is my daughter Paige.”

  “My name is Doctor Harvey, I will be your husband’s primary physician during his time here.”

  “What happened to the surgeon who saw him when he was admitted? He’s a family friend.” Paige’s mum said, her voice shaking.

  “Doctor Short was called away, but please don’t worry, I will do everything I can to help your husband,” Doctor Harvey flipped to a different page of her notes, “I will get straight to the information you need – as you know, your husband has a fractured skull and significant swelling in his brain. The surgery we performed removed skull fragments and clots to repair the damage. The operation was a success, but Mr. Delford isn’t out of the woods yet. We will continue to monitor him, and we are giving him intravenous antibiotics in case of infection. We also have him on a diuretic medicine to try to reduce the swelling in his
brain.”

  “Thank you, doctor,” Paige’s mum said.

  “Do you have any questions?” Doctor Harvey said.

  “Yes, um...” Paige’s mum stood up, running her fingers through her hair to push it back from her eyes, “When will he wake up?”

  “We have him in a medically-induced coma at the moment, but if the swelling goes down, we should be able to bring him out of it later this week.”

  “Oh my god...” Paige’s mum muttered, placing a hand over her mouth as she sank back down and began to cry.

  “He is in a critical condition, but there is hope. Only time and continued monitoring will help. Please try to get some rest if you can and take care of yourselves.”

  “Thank you,” Paige said, walking over to hug her mum.

  ELEVEN

  They stayed with Tom for the next 24 hours, talking, trying to distract themselves and taking it in turns to nap in the uncomfortable armchair in the corner of the room. Doctor Harvey came in every few hours to check on him but was unable to give them much more information.

  “It was a serious head injury – he needs time,” she said, not unkindly, but with the kind of clinical detachment that showed she had seen this situation many times before.

  Two days after the accident, Paige awoke from a nap, stiff and with pins and needles in her foot. She stood up, the tingly sensation taking a moment to dissipate. Her mum was stood at the other end of Tom’s room, on the phone to a relative or friend.

  Paige took the opportunity to head to the canteen, mouthing to her mum if she wanted anything to eat, but she waved her hand dismissively in reply and shook her head.

  The canteen was just a short walk from Tom’s room and whilst it was the same plain, sterile space as the rest of the hospital, the smell of cooking food and hot tea perked Paige up slightly. She ordered a jacket potato with cheese and sat at one of the tables with her tray.

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out, expecting to see yet another text from Rufus; he had been texting her since the accident. Instead, she saw a Facebook notification – “people you may know”. Desperate to take her mind off the current situation, she flicked through the suggestions, wondering if she might find some of her childhood friends from Oxford. After flicking through a few people she had known through work back in Cardiff, she noticed “Leo Eckland – 2 mutual friends” and smiled to herself, clicking the “add friend” button.

  She continued swiping through another few friends of friends and the penultimate suggestion was an Oxford student, Jade Spencer. They had one mutual friend, one of her mum’s friend’s daughters who was a few years younger than Paige, but it was the profile picture which caught her attention. She immediately recognised her – she had dark almost black hair, dark brown eyes and a distinctive mole under her left eye. There was no mistaking her – this was the woman who had approached Paige at Oxpens Meadow on Monday.

  Clicking on her profile, Paige looked through her pictures, mostly selfies and one picture with a ginger cat. Hoping to find a picture of Ella, she looked through her albums, but they were all set to private. She found the “tagged photos” tab and immediately saw a photo which appeared to have been taken in the same place as the memorial photo of Ella had been, somewhere hot in a hotel room, but this time of both Ella and Jade, hugging each other and smiling for the camera.

  They were both holding cocktails and had tans. Jade had patches on her chest where sunburnt skin met pale white bikini lines. Jade looked different in this picture to her selfies – she wasn’t wearing any make-up and her clothes were casual.

  Ella looked the same as she had done in the memorial photo, same shorts, top and high ponytail. Her smile seemed genuine and she was hugging Jade tightly round the waist.

  The caption read “Holiday with the best uni roommate ever, love you Ella”.

  Regretting her hasty exit on Monday, Paige decided to message Jade. At the very least she might be able to tell her whether Ella had known Eckland.

  Paige Webb (16.23pm) – Hi, I hope you don’t mind me messaging. I saw you at Ella Gold’s memorial at Oxpens Meadow. I just wanted to say sorry for running away so suddenly and sorry for your loss.

  As soon as she had sent it, she felt her chest flutter – what if Jade took offense? Her friend had just died, and Paige didn’t have much of a connection to either of them – she may have come across as nosey.

  She locked her phone and put it down on the canteen table, tucking into her potato.

  A few minutes later, Jade replied.

  Jade Spencer (16.34pm) – Hiya! I remember you, and I understand, it has been a difficult week for everyone. How did you know Ella?

  Paige’s heart sank – how did she tell Jade that she hadn’t ever met Ella. She decided the only way to make this work was to take a risk and tell her the truth, however weird it may sound.

  Paige Webb (16.35pm) – I actually didn’t know Ella, sorry. I am working for Professor Hugh Eckland and I came across some notes that I think Ella made on his essays.

  Jade Spencer (16.35pm) – Oh, that creep. Yeah, Ella worked for him for a while, he came out of retirement to give us a lecture in first year and she got the job after that.

  So, it was Ella who made those notes... Paige thought to herself. Could it really be a coincidence that they were both attacked and killed in the same place, just 24 hours apart?

  Paige Webb (16.35pm) – OMG, really? And you didn’t like him?

  Jade Spencer (16.36pm) – No, he was always calling her, inviting her to dinners and whatnot. She really liked him though, a bit too much...

  Paige Webb (16.36pm) – You think she liked him... like that?

  Jade Spencer (16.36pm) – Yeah, definitely, she was always talking about him. Going on about how clever he was and how generous.

  Paige Webb (16.37pm) – I didn’t realise when I took the job that anyone else had worked for him.

  Jade Spencer (16.37pm) – That sounds like Eckland. He’s intelligent and overly nice so I think that’s how he hides it.

  Jade clearly suspected something too, so throwing caution to the wind, Paige added:

  Paige Webb (16.38pm) – I’m so sorry to pry after your loss, but there’s something else that made me go the meadow that day.

  Jade Spencer (16.38pm) – It’s ok, you’re not prying, what is it?

  Paige Webb (16.39pm) – Well, I know they’re saying Ella’s death was a robbery gone wrong, but I’m worried there’s more to it.

  Jade Spencer (16.39pm) – Honestly, that’s exactly what I thought. But the police didn’t give a shit. They said there wasn’t any proof that it was murder and Ella’s phone and purse were stolen in the attack.

  Paige Webb (16.39pm) – Yeah, I know. Thing is, I was attacked in the same place the night before. The police didn’t do anything then either.

  Paige waited with racing heart for Jade’s reply. Five minutes passed and the message still said “read”. Paige closed her eyes in frustration as she saw Jade’s icon change from “online” to “away”.

  Putting her phone back in her pocket, she sighed and tried to finish her dinner, heart still racing. She had to focus on her mum and Tom right now and not worry about Eckland. For all she knew, there was a perfectly innocent explanation for it all.

  Her phone buzzed again, and she pulled it back out, expecting to see a message from Jade. Instead, she saw a text from the unknown number again.

  07764321123 – unknown number

  16.46pm

  Don’t trust Jade.

  Ella x

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Paige read and reread the text again. Don’t trust Jade. And signed Ella x. As she took it in again and again Paige felt herself hardening to her situation. Someone was messing with her, pretending to be Ella, trying to scare her. She had had enough.

  She stood up, taking her plate back to the staff in the hospital canteen and headed out of the building, walking down Headington road, to a Starbucks she knew of. She wanted to be far
enough away from her mum and Tom for what she planned to do next.

  Once there, she ordered a hot chocolate and sat on a stool at the bar in the window, so that she could see the door and anyone walking past. She took a deep breath to try to calm her nerves, hoping that her fluttering heart wasn’t obvious to onlookers. She did her best to keep her face as blank and casual as she possibly could.

  She took out her phone and carefully typed:

  07764321123 – unknown number

  16.46pm

  Don’t trust Jade.

  Ella x

  17.05pm

  I’m in the Starbucks on Headington Road. I want to talk.

  As she watched everyone walking in and out, she started to realise she didn’t know what she was waiting for. How would she know what the person on the other end of the phone looked like? If they were pretending to be Ella, they wouldn’t reveal themselves to her now. Would they even turn up?

  She decided to send one more text to act as bait.

  07764321123 – unknown number

  16.46pm

  Don’t trust Jade.

  Ella x

  17.05pm

  I’m in the Starbucks on Headington Road. I want to talk.

  17.12pm

  I have information about the Ecklands.

  She marked the time – quarter past five. If someone hadn’t approached her by half past, she thought, she would go back to the hospital. The texter seemed to know her actions, including messaging Jade, but even if the texter was following her, would they reveal themselves?

  Pausing briefly, she pressed send on the text.

  The unmistakable sound of a Nokia two note text alert sounded from behind her. She swung around, scanning the faces of teenagers flicking through Tik Tok, a man speaking loudly in a foreign language on his mobile and an elderly woman gingerly poking at her screen with one forefinger.

  No one’s faces gave anything away. If it was any of these people, they clearly didn’t have any intention of revealing themselves to her. Thinking quickly, she fired off another text:

  07764321123 – unknown number