Eleven, Twelve ... Dig and delve (Rebekka Franck Book 6) (23 page)

She writes Mystery/Suspense/Horror, Paranormal Romance and Fantasy. Originally from Denmark, she now lives on Florida's Space Coast with her husband and two daughters. She is a huge fan of Agatha Christie, Stephen King, Anne Rice, and Isabel Allende. When she is not writing or reading, you'll find her surfing and watching the dolphins play in the waves of the Atlantic Ocean. Sold more than 700.000 copies of her books.

Connect with Willow online:

http://www.willow-rose.blogspot.com/

http://www.facebook.com/willowredrose

https://twitter.com/madamwillowrose

The following is an excerpt from Willow Rose's Bestselling Horror Novel

THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE

HOME

P
ROLOGUE

May 2014

“
W
HAT’S THE WORST
thing that can happen?”

Jonas looked at Maria with anticipation. She loved his deep blue eyes and curly brown hair. Oh, how she loved him. But she had her doubts. It was a big decision they were about to make. They had just gotten married, and the wedding was expensive. Where they ready to take this step? Could they afford it? Jonas was a dreamer, and not always the most realistic when it came to money. Neither was she.

“Think about it,” Jonas continued. “I know we’re in a little over our heads with this one financially, but it’s the house we’ve dreamt of. It’s the one we want. None of the others made us excited like this one does. And it’s right on the beach. What’s not to love?”

He grabbed the listing from the table and went through the pictures once again. Maria felt a strange sensation in her body. She wasn’t sure exactly what it was. She loved the house. No doubt about it. But, was it too soon? Would it be too hard for them financially? Was it the best choice? It was, by far, the most expensive of the houses they had been looking at. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something inside her told her they shouldn’t do it.

She looked at the pictures over Jonas’s shoulder.

But it’s perfect. It’s beautiful. It’s all you’ve ever dreamt of.

“It might be hard in the beginning,” Jonas said. “Maybe the first couple of years, but I’m soon up for that promotion. I mean, they’ve got to give it to me after all the work I put in on that last case.”

“You did work hard on that one. And you did win it,” Maria said.

“I know. They have to promote me. I’m next in line, the way I see it, and Juhlsen even hinted at it the other day when I was in his office.”

“He did?”

“Yeah,” Jonas paused, and looked with dreaming eyes at the listing. “There is no way they’re not giving it to me. No way. And you just got a job at the library as well. I mean, we are going to make good money for the next several years. We can afford this. I really believe we can. It might be tight for a few years, but that’s all, the way I see it.”

“Really?” Maria said. “You really think we could do it? You think we could buy it?”

She felt a thrill of cold run down her spine. It made her shiver slightly. She was getting more and more excited about this. It was the house of her dreams…more than she could have dared to ever dream of, actually. It was the house she could see herself in. Heck, she could even picture herself having kids there.

So, why was she hesitating? Why was she holding back? It was just this strange sense, this feeling, this unsettling emotion inside of her that made her pause.

Jonas clearly didn’t have any doubts anymore. “So, what do you say?” he asked, as he took her hand in his and kissed the top of it. “Are you onboard?”

“I…I don’t know…” Maria said.

“Come on,” Jonas exclaimed. “Why are you being like this?”

“I just…I don’t know, Jonas. I just feel like…maybe it’s just…I can’t escape this feeling that it’s a bad idea. That’s all.”

“A bad idea? How can buying the house of your dreams be a bad idea?” Jonas said with a slightly indulgent smile. He held her hand tightly and looked her in the eyes. “Listen. I know this is a big step for us. I know how difficult big changes are for you. It’s perfectly understandable. I’m shaking a little myself. This is a big deal. It really is. But this house is perfect for us. It’s screaming for us to move in. Look at this picture. Our new dinning room table that we got for our wedding will be perfect on those old wooden floors. Can’t you see it?”

Maria swallowed before she looked at the picture. Her heart melted. She could see it. She really could. She closed her eyes.

“You see it too, don’t you?” Jonas asked excitedly.

She nodded. “Yes, yes I see it.” She opened her eyes and looked at her handsome husband.

“So, we’re doing it?” he asked.

Maria bit her lip, took one last glance at the picture of the house from the outside, and thought she caught a glimpse of a little girl on a swing hanging from the big tree in the front yard. Everything inside of her screamed not to do it, but she didn’t listen. Instead, she looked at Jonas with a soft smile.

“Yes,” she sighed. “Yes, we’re doing it. We’re buying the house.”

Jonas shrieked happily and kissed her. She closed her eyes and let him hold her in his arms. She tried to imagine them in the house in order to drown out the unsettling thoughts that kept popping up in her mind. It was all just nonsense. It was just her being terrified of change. She had always been like this. It was silly. Jonas was right. What was the worst thing that could happen?

March 2009

T
HE FIRST TIME
she saw him was on TV. She had read about him in the papers, but on the day the police took him to the courtroom for him to be tried was the first time she saw him.

Like really
saw
him.

Louise Tanggaard was watching the twenty-four hour news channel while chopping carrots for the stew she was cooking. Actually, she hadn’t been paying much attention to what was said in the broadcast, she wasn’t even looking at the screen when the reporter started talking, but when he suddenly told the viewers that the accused was now approaching the entrance of the courtroom, Louise was filled with an overwhelming desire to look up. She stopped chopping and stared at the screen in her kitchen that she’d had installed to be able to watch TV while eating with her cats, Lurifax and Lorianne. She had no idea what it was that made her stop and look, or what it was that made her keep watching. There was just something…no it was some
one
who drew her.

He was walking towards the entrance of the old building that was the courtroom in Copenhagen. Next to him, his attorney tried to keep the hordes of reporters and cameramen away. Some of them were yelling their questions out towards him, asking him if he
had done it
, if he had killed them and dismembered the bodies. They received nothing but a smile from the longhaired guy with the dark sunglasses.

What was it about him that made her look? What was it about this guy? Louise felt so drawn to him, even though she knew he was about to stand trial for having murdered his girlfriend and her two sons from another marriage. She grabbed a chair and stared at the screen, while watching the accused, Bjarke Lund, walk past the cameras. When his lawyer opened the door to the courtroom, Bjarke Lund turned to look directly at the cameras. He lifted his handcuffed hands and saluted. At that moment, Louise was convinced that he was saluting her, not the journalists. That he somehow knew she was watching.

And she knew, from that second, that she loved him.

The bodies were never found. Maybe he didn’t do it? Maybe he is innocent? No matter what, he must be feeling so lost. So alone.

Louise looked at the screen, as the face of the man she was now convinced she loved, disappeared. Lurifax approached her and jumped into her lap. She caressed him gently, while wondering about this guy. She grabbed the paper from the dinner table and started flipping the pages. There it was. There he was. Bjarke Lund was now looking at her from a black and white picture. Finally, she saw his eyes. He seemed to be looking back at her. The long beard, the ponytail, the leather vest…everything about him signaled bad news, but Louise felt differently. She felt like she understood him, like she knew him.

“You’re just misunderstood, aren’t you?” she asked, as she let one of her long red nails caress the picture. “You just need the right woman to help you get back on track. You’re not such a bad guy. You’re nothing like they say you are. I know you’re different. You’ve just never had anyone take care of you. But I could. I could take good care of you.”

The case was still being covered on TV, and suddenly, Bjarke Lund appeared in an interview which had taken place many years earlier, when he was accused of having killed his own mother. He was just a teenager at the time. The story had been the same back then. Her body had never been found. In the interview, Bjarke Lund had painted his face green with facial paint. “Because this is how the world sees me,” he stated, when the interviewer asked. “As pure evil, like the Wicked Witch of the West. In your eyes, I am the archetype of human wickedness. I have already been judged. I don’t need to stand trial. You have already decided that I did it.”

Other books

Deadly Night by Aiden James

The World That Never Was by Alex Butterworth

Stark's War by John G. Hemry

Weathering by Lucy Wood

The Twin Powers by Robert Lipsyte

While You Were Writing: Watkin's Pond, Book 2 by Virginia Nelson

El rapto del cisne by Elizabeth Kostova

Dear Leader by Jang Jin-Sung

Sophie the Hero by Lara Bergen

Falling Star by Olivia Brynn