Page 93 of D for Dead

‘Okay.’

‘I won’t lie; I like her, and under different circumstances…’ He exhaled, trailing off, and raked both hands back through his hair. ‘I gave you my word nothing would happen. It didn’t and I want to be clear you know that.’

Rebecca let out a sigh. ‘It’s okay, Jake. I believe you.’

She did believe him. He was her partner and they were close enough she knew he wouldn’t go to pains to stress it if it wasn’t the truth. So nothing had happened, but it didn’t mean it wouldn’t. There was something between the two of them and he had admitted he was attracted to her. It just hadn’t reached boiling point yet. Would Jake be prepared to stop it when it eventually did? Rebecca hoped so.

The killer had re-enacted murders from three of Amy’s books and they were no closer to catching him. With three more books to go and the killer’s vendetta against Amy stepping up, she needed her partner to be focused more than ever.

* * *

Sleep took a while.

Amy tossed and turned, unable to relax and switch off. The evening was warm, her open window offering little relief, and when she eventually drifted it was in a mess of tangled sheets.

Almost immediately she dropped into the nightmare, finding herself on the stone steps leading down into the basement. The steep stone steps leading down, the flickering light, the cold damp in the air and the ominous coppery smell warning something bad awaited.

Then eventually the point where the nightmare ended, when she stepped into the room at the bottom of the stairs and screamed, waking herself up and then blocking what she saw from her mind. Except this time she didn’t scream out loud, didn’t wake herself up.

She was in the basement room at the bottom of the stairs, screaming in her head, wanting someone to hear, someone to help, as she took in the horror before her. Danielle chained up, the body on the table and the blood. There was so much blood.

She had to get out and she turned, with the intention of running, instead slamming straight into the man. He caught hold of her, throwing her to the ground, and her elbow cracked as it hit concrete.

Blood dripped from the body on the table, pooling on the floor beside her, and she scooted away huddling herself against the wall. Danielle was mumbling incoherently, probably because of all the blood in her mouth.

Why is there so much blood in her mouth?

Her gaze drifted past Danielle to the tools hanging from the hooks on the wall: the axes, the knives, pliers, rope and chain.

Oh dear God.

She started to scream again, trying to push herself further back into the wall, when the man crossed the room, caught hold of her ponytail and pulled her head viciously back. He covered her mouth with his free hand and she smelt blood and dirt. It made her gag and she struggled to breathe.

‘Your friend screamed so I cut out her tongue. You have one warning to stop or I’ll do the same to you.’ He yanked her hair hard. ‘Do you understand?’

Amy nodded, her heart thumping as his words registered. She glanced again at Danielle, at her bloody mouth and realised. As the man let go of her she covered her mouth with her own hand to prevent any scream escaping.

Oh my God! Oh my God! He’s going to kill us.

She watched him go to the wall of tools, selecting a length of chain.

Amy glanced at the door.

He had shut it when he’d entered the room, but it wasn’t locked. But how was she supposed to get to the door, get it open and make her escape without him catching her?

He was going to chain her up like Danielle. If he did she wouldn’t be able to escape. She doubted the twins would come looking for her and, even if they did, they were in the middle of the woods. By the time help arrived it would be too late. Her only chance of escape was now.

Frantically glancing around the basement, her eyes fell on the dead body on the table; the woman lying with her head twisted. On the table beside her lay a screwdriver. Amy looked at the man. He was still busy with the chain. In front of him Danielle hung pathetically, barely conscious, blood still dribbling from her mouth.

She had to get out of here, had to get help, and quick.

She eased herself off the floor, back to the wall, all of the time watching the man. Slowly, carefully, she took a step towards the body, pausing when she heard him sigh, her heart in her mouth as he scratched his head, started to turn round.

She froze to the spot, waited, letting out the breath she hadn’t realised she was holding when he turned back to the wall. In one fluid move she reached for the screwdriver and clenching it tightly in her hand stepped back and slipped down to the floor.

When the man turned round a few seconds later she was in exactly the same place he had left her, cowering against the wall. The chain in one hand, he crossed the room to her, a perverse grin on his face.

‘So, are you gonna behave yourself or are you gonna struggle like your friend?’ he asked, before adding with a wiggle of his brow, ‘I like it when they struggle.’