Turned (3 page)

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Authors: Clare Revell

Tags: #christian Fiction

BOOK: Turned
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Amy screamed and dropped the glass. It smashed, orange juice and glass shards flying in all directions.

The doorbell rang. Her heart pounded as she backed into the hall, terrified the man would come through the back door. Had she locked it? She had no idea. Reaching the front door, she put a hand on the latch. “Who is it?” she managed, her voice more of a high pitched squeak than anything else.

“It's Ray and Rosalie.” Ray's voice was calm, but did nothing to allay the panic filling her.

Amy flung open the door, giving into the tears burning in her eyes.

He took in the look on her face. “What's wrong?”

“There's someone in the garden…”

“Stay here.” Ray strode towards the kitchen.

Rosalie shut the door and hugged Amy tightly. “It's all right.”

“It's not all right. That car's been parked out the front for days. It's following me. Thought I was imagining things, but now…”

“There's no one there.” Ray came back into the hallway. “Do you want me to call the police?”

Amy shook her head, her whole body trembling. “No. They won't do anything. And anyway, you said he's gone now.”

“You should still call them.”

Rosalie led her into the lounge, taking the baby in the car seat.

A car screeched to a halt outside and almost instantly, a brick smashed through the window. Both women screamed, and the baby began crying.

Ray reached for the phone. “Now I
am
calling them.”

Amy sank onto the couch. “It won't work. I unplugged it because of the calls…” She ignored the look he gave her as he pulled out his mobile instead.
How did things get so screwed up? I didn't mean for all this to happen… The papers say Mr. Saunders is OK now and the courts have dealt with me. I know You've forgiven me, but I still feel awful.

The police came and went, taking details and leaving her a crime number for the insurance company. Ray boarded up the window. “Come back to ours tonight.”

“I can't…” Amy paused. “I never gave you dinner. I'm sorry.”

“It's fine. We'll get take out instead. Once we get you safe and settled at our place.”

“I'm not letting them push me out of my own house. I'll be fine.” She saw them out, noticing the black car still opposite the house. She shuddered at the dead bird on the doorstep and made a mental note to clear it up in the morning.

Just after two in the morning, Amy jerked awake. Smoke drifted through the open bedroom window and an orange glow lit the garden. Jumping out of bed, she ran to the window and pulled back the curtains. The compost heap was alight and threatening to engulf the back fence. Not thinking, she ran downstairs and outside, grabbing the garden hose. She turned on the tap and aimed the jet of water at the fire.

Alternating between the compost heap and soaking the fence panels, it took her half an hour to put out the fire. She raked over the compost, making sure all the sparks were gone. Then she headed slowly inside. She wrinkled her nose. It still smelt smoky. Pushing open the door to the hallway, she found flames licking up the inside of the front door.

Fear pulsed through her again, and she ran for the water jug from the fridge. Tossing it on the flames, she listened to the crackle become a hiss and the light faded. She headed into the lounge and sank down to the floor. “I don't believe this. What more can possibly go wrong tonight? It can't be a coincidence. Two fires, a brick, the man in the garden. But why?”

Pulling over the laptop, she fired it up and then typed Derek Saunders into the search engine. She ignored the reports of the accident, which had her name plastered all over them. Instead she went for the smaller articles. The name Saunders itself flashed up several times. Kevin Saunders was the former leader of some gang or other before becoming mayor earlier in the year. The police could never pin anything on him—hence his town council role…and he had a younger brother called Derek.

Shock filled her. That explained everything. No wonder the police weren't that bothered last night. If this Kevin Saunders was after her, she was a marked woman. Tiredness swept over her and she lay on the couch, praying that God would show her a way out of the mess she'd gotten herself into.

The phone rang, waking her from a sound sleep. Ignoring it, she got up, and pushed her hands through her hair. A glance at her watch told her it was gone nine thirty, and she was late for work again. Shaking her head, she walked across the room and pulled the curtains, allowing the bright, warm sunlight to shine through the un-boarded part of the window.

Amy froze.

The same man, short dark hair, scar on his face, stood on the other side of the glass. He raised a cross bow and fired. The arrow smashed through the glass, straight at her.

 

 

 

 

 

2

 

Nothing changed, Dane sighed. He'd arrived home late the previous evening, to find his mother pulling her hair out over the behavior of the girls. Vicky had once again refused to eat and Jodie had come in, dumped her stuff on the floor and gone out. “Dressed to the nines” was the way Mum phrased it. No one had replied to the ad he'd placed. He was beginning to wonder if Nate was right and a nanny agency was the way to go.

And today already looked as if it would turn out the same way. He arrived at the nick, late again. He sank into the chair behind his desk as nonchalantly as he could. Nate slid coffee over to him and he picked it up and smiled at his partner. “Morning, Nate.”

“More like afternoon. Which one was it this time?”

Dane checked his watch. “Not quite afternoon—it's barely nine forty-five. And it was Jodie. She's getting worse. What did I miss?”

Nate leaned back in his chair. “Not much—just a murder in Clarkdale Street.” He tossed Dane his notebook. “Uniform got the call about half four this morning. I got there a little after seven. Hence my afternoon comment. You can catch up on the way to the morgue.”

“Thanks.”

Nate grinned, getting to his feet. “By the way, the Guv's on the war path.”

“Joy.”

Detective Inspector Vanessa Welsh flung open the office door. Silence fell across the ten desks arranged around the room. “Dane. My office. Now.”

Dane looked up. “Nate and I were just going—”

“Nate's a big boy. I'm sure he can find the morgue without you holding his hand. Just like he found Clarkdale Street without you earlier.” She jerked her head to the door. “Don't make me repeat myself.”

Nate dropped a hand on Dane's shoulder. “It's been nice knowing you, mate.”

Dane sighed, pushing upright. “We who are about to die, salute you.” He followed his commanding officer down the corridor to her office.

“Shut the door.” Her curt tone only confirmed how much trouble he was in.

He complied and stood in front of her desk. “I know I was late and I'm sorry, Guv. If you let me explain…”

“I would really love to hear your explanation. You have been late consistently over the past few months. Late coming in. Leaving early. Long lunches. It's gotten worse recently. Sit down.”

Dane perched on the edge of the seat. He laced his fingers together, the contents of his stomach curdling within him. The pounding in his chest increased.

“Well?”

“Kid problems.”

“Really?”

He took a deep breath. “Neither of them will get up. Vicky won't eat. I spend a good hour each morning fighting with them.”

DI Welsh looked unimpressed. “So do thousands of parents up and down the country. Why are they at work on time and you're not?”

“I'm doing it alone.”

“You're not the only single parent in this station. Or in the country.”

Dane took a deep breath. His reasoning sounded pitiful now. But it wasn't. His struggle was very real and he didn't know what to do.

“We all cut you some slack when Jasmine died. It wasn't easy losing her like that, especially when you were working the case.”

He nodded slowly. The Herbalist killings were his toughest case to date and had made the national headlines when the Prime Minister and the investigating officer's wife were two of his victims. The only good thing to have come out of it was Adeline and her subsequent marriage to Nate.

DI Welsh continued. “But that was two years ago. You can't keep blaming your current problems on your wife not being here.”

Dane narrowed his eyes, his hackles rising. He straightened, bristling. “So it's my failure as a parent, is that what you're saying?”

“I'm not saying anything of the kind. Just suggesting you prioritize things.”

“So it's my kids or my job?” Anger flared through him, and he fought to contain it.

“Will you stop putting words into my mouth? Reorganize your child care arrangements.”

“I've advertised for a nanny. Just haven't found one yet.”

“Then until you do, perhaps your child minder could start a little earlier. Or you pull your kids out of bed at seven thirty and put them in the school's breakfast clubs. Or see if a neighbor could take them. Who picks them up?”

“Either my parents or Jas's.” He pushed his hands through his hair.

“Then sort it. You've got a week. Nate can't keep covering for you. It's not fair on him.” She paused. “And if I've noticed, so have the rest of the squad and the rest of the chain of command. You're not just letting yourself down here.”

“I'll sort it.”

“Good. Now go catch Nate up at the morgue. Assuming he's even left his desk yet.”

Dane exited the office, very much feeling like his tail was between his legs and his ears were down. Bile rose in his throat, and his tie choked him. He had no idea how to fix any of this. He loved his kids, and he loved his job.
Lord, I need some help here. A nanny would be ideal. Please provide someone of Your choosing.

He looked at Nate. “You still here?”

Nate stood as Dane came over. “Figured I'd wait and this way we only use one pool car. Give the boss one less thing to gripe about. Let's go.”

Dane grabbed his jacket. “Thanks.”

“Are you all right?”

“Fine.”

“Pull the other one, it's got bells on.”

Dane shrugged. “Is my head still on my shoulders?”

Nate grinned. “There's a chunk missing, but you won't need that today. How bad was it?”

“Other than me letting down the entire squad, not to mention being the worst partner you could possibly have, and it's all down to being a lousy father who can't juggle work and kids effectively like every other single parent can? Things are just peachy.”

“She said all that?”

“I condensed it for you, but essentially, yeah, that's what she said.” He held the main door open, letting a blast of heat into the air-conditioned building. “I could read between the lines and go as far as saying I turn up on time from now on or I'm looking for a new job. She did say I can't blame Jasmine's death for the kids acting this way. It's been two years. Time to move on. And so, therefore, if it's not Jasmine's fault, its mine.”

Nate held his gaze. “Why don't you just count your blessings for a change?”

Count his blessings? What blessings?
Pent-up frustration boiled to the surface as his left hook caught Nate square on the jaw, sending him flying to the tarmac. “One,” Dane snarled.

Nate lay there, slowly moving his jaw and rubbing it. “Feel better?”

Dane shrugged. He held out a hand to haul his partner to his feet. “I am really sorry.”

“It's OK.” He nudged Dane toward the passenger side of the car. “And at least you didn't do that upstairs.”

“Then the Guv would have my guts for garters.”

Nate looked at him over the top of the car. “Just forget it happened. Kids go through stages of hating their parents and testing the boundaries. That's what yours are doing right now.”

Dane climbed in and slammed the door. “I've tried everything. But Jodie won't get up. She answers back. I get told ‘if mum were here things would be different. She'd never speak to me like that.' How do you do it?”

“Honestly, now it's a lot easier as Adeline leaves after I do. But I'd just tell Vianne that if she's late then I'm late and we're both going to get into trouble.”

Dane fisted his hands. “I miss Jas so much. I can't do this without her.”

Nate looked at him as he started the car. “What would Jas do with them?”

Dane thought quickly. “She'd pull the covers off them and threaten to send them to school in pyjamas.”

“Then do it. And if that doesn't work, pray someone responds to your advert.”

Dane nodded as Nate drove. “I'll do that.”

“Good. It's time to take back control. Those kids need you whole again. And so do I.”

Dane looked at him. “Huh?”

“You're barely functioning, mate. Even now. It's not what Jas would have wanted.”

He nodded slowly, forcing his mind back to work and where they were going. “So this murder?”

Nate took a deep breath. “Like I said, the call came in first thing this morning…”

 



 

Amy's breath came in small shallow gasps. Her heart thudded against her chest wall and pounded in her ears. She didn't dare move as the man stared in through the window at her. Then he turned and moved away.

The arrow still vibrated in the wall, a fraction of an inch from her head. Tears filled her eyes and spilled over.

She slid down the wall to the ground, shaking hard. A note floated to the floor beside her. It must have come in with the arrow. Trembling fingers opened it.
Justice will be served. Vengeance is mine. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth and a life for a life.

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