The Dark Places by R. Whitfield (novel24 TXT) 📕

Margot, he smiled, shaking his head. That girl could get anything she wanted with her legs in the air. He almost admired her but thought better of it, knowing the poison she spat in his direction. He was a small glitch in her rise to queen of the school. The strange, weird brother, that’s a hard one to hide, especially from judgemental teenagers. He was comforted knowing that at least he could hurt her in some way, even if he didn’t have the guts to defend himself to her face. Sighing, he ran his big hands through his dark, tangled hair, watching dirt fall out of it like snow. I must look a real sight he thought and giggled quietly to himself, knowing his mother was going to pitch a fit when she saw the state he was in. He hesitated at the gate, not wanting to enter and deal with her ire, so, as always, he chanced a glance at the house next door.

The tall white home stood like a giant in contrast to his mother’s modest three-bedroom. He often wondered what life was like in that house. There always seemed to be the smell of freshly baked bread mixed with the sweet aroma of chocolate cookies seeping out of the kitchen. The gardens were manicured, lawns were mowed, and the mother waved and talked to the postman each day like the perfect parents did on TV. Some nights, he would crouch outside their lounge room window just to hear the sounds of laughter and dream that he was laughing too. Finally, his attention shifted back to the drab, brown building that was his reality. There was no laughter in this house. Taking a deep breath, he walked up the steps, careful not to fall through the broken slat and pushed open the door.

22

Baltimore, Maryland, Present day

Lucy laid very still. Something was not right. He had been pacing the floor for nearly an hour, and it was two o’clock in the morning. He suddenly stopped as if he could hear her thoughts — she held her breath, waiting, then he moved quickly around to her side of the bed. She slammed her eyes shut, praying he hadn’t already seen that she was awake. He stood there, staring at her for what seemed like an eternity. She didn’t like how he was making her feel. She felt scared. Finally, he got back in bed, and after a while, she felt his body relax and his breathing become steady. Slipping out from under the sheets, she tiptoed to the bathroom and shut the door with a silent click. Flicking the light on, she sat on the edge of the bathtub wrapping her arms around her stomach. What the hell is happening, she said to herself, covering her mouth to stifle the sound of her sobs. He had been rough tonight, more so than normal. Halfway through, she had to ask him to stop and was worried for a terrifying second that he wouldn’t. Afterwards, he couldn’t even look at her, let alone speak to her. He exuded so much fury that she had considered leaving.

Sitting alone in the bathroom, now she wished she had. Maybe I should talk to him about it, she thought to herself, immediately coming to his defence. You are overreacting Lucy! All men get excited. Yes, I love him, and we can totally work this out. She got up and looked at herself in the mirror. As she turned to leave, she spotted something from the corner of her eye and looked back gasping. There were large black bruises around the base of her neck. Her hand flew up to her mouth in horror. Turning her head slightly to one side, she suddenly realised what she was seeing — finger marks. A sharp knock pierced the silent night and made her squeal out loud.

“Lucy?” he asked from the other side of the door. “What the hell are you doing in there?” His tone had turned dangerous. Tears fell in fat drops down her cheeks.

“Nothing, sweetheart, just going to the toilet,” she replied, trying to keep the edge out of her voice. “You gave me a little fright, that’s all,” she added.

He rattled the handle, trying to open the door, which thankfully she had locked.

“Hurry up then,” he said.

She put her ear to the door until she heard the rustling of the comforter as he got back in bed. Flushing the toilet, she quickly wiped the tears off her face and practised a fake smile in the mirror. I am in trouble here, she thought, trying to control her racing heart. What have I got myself into?

***

After Madison had hung up from Surin, she was buzzing. This case will make my career, she thought to herself and let out a little squeal, still in utter disbelief that it was happening.

“Well, believe it!” she said out loud, “because not just anyone gets a phone call from Detective Surin Elliott.”

The latest victim, Lana Beau, was alive and possibly the luckiest woman on the planet, she thought. Reaching for the paper, she searched for any word on the attempted abduction and found none. Even better, she thought, scoop, scoop, scoop. It felt good to be back doing what she loved.

Walking over to her desk, she flipped the top of her laptop up and opened her story. She had started with the discovery of Isabelle Lacross and was working backwards in time from there to establish the serial angle. Once she had the interview from Surin, every paper in the country would be bidding to print it. She smiled, not only was she finally going to be recognised as a gifted crime reporter, but she was feeling better about herself than she had in years. She and Surin had finally put the past behind them, and if nothing else, maybe the trust between them could be