Nailed

Augustine Nash

Description

Ellie is devastated by the murder of her daughter Jessica, and recruits the help of Dr. Hugh Staines before she also disappears. Furthermore a young girl goes missing from Stickly Village and later found murdered. Ellie's estranged sister Jacqueline turns up. Suspects Thomas Skeine and his son have a violent past, but did they really do it?

Sujets

• Thriller

Informations

• Publié par: eBookPartnership.com
• Date de parution: 19 avril 2013
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781783011223
• Langue: English

Extrait

Nailed
By Augustine Nash
Something cut into her foot but she was unaware of it. However, she was of something else. The small white transparent shape which suddenly appeared and floated towards the gate, where it turned and hovered.
" My little butterfly!" she screamed, a terrifying sound; like a wounded animal, which rent the air and came flying back to ring in her ears. For a few moments the apparition seemed to be beckoning before slowly dissolving away into the rapidly cooling air.
Ellie is determined to find out who murdered her daughter, Jessica, and recruits the help of Doctor Hugh Staines. After a young girl goes missing in Stickly Village and is found murdered, the investigation is re-opened by Detective Frank Carter.
Ellie's estranged sister, Jacqueline turns up out of the blue. Thomas Skeine and his son Andrew, who both have a past of violence, arouse suspicion when Thomas' wife, Irene commits suicide and his youngest son is killed in an 'accident'.
Ellie's ex-husband Tony and his new wife Jacqueline are also under the microscope.
But when Ellie goes missing, and the list of suspects grows by the day, will Doctor Hugh Staines and Detective Frank Carter be able to get a clear picture of what is going on? Will Ellie be found alive, and will Jessica's murderer be found?
Something strange is going on in Stickly Village, and Hugh is determined to find out what it is...
Copyright © Augustine Nash 2013
Augustine Nash has asserted her rights in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
Published by eBookPartnership.com
First published in eBook format in 2013
eISBN: 978-1-78301-122-3
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the Publisher.
All names, characters, places, organisations, businesses and events are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
eBook Conversion by www.ebookpartnership.com
Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty One
Twenty Two
Twenty Three
Twenty Four
Twenty Five
Twenty Six
Twenty Seven
Twenty Eight
Twenty Nine
Thirty
Thirty One
Thirty Two
Thirty Three
Thirty Four
Thirty Five
Thirty Six
Thirty Seven
Thirty Eight
Thirty Nine
One
She knew she had to be somewhere, but where? Her fog-filled mind would not allow her to remember. Making a tremendous effort, she managed to force her eyes open. The last of the day’s sunshine intruded into her dark world where it found no welcome. A struggle ensued inside her brain. Two voices, one urging, "Get up, you have to be somewhere, the other screaming, "No! What is the point?"
The empty wine bottle stood on the low table, beckoning like a monster from the deep whose teeth clamped, chewing at her insides. Her hand reached out and grasped it, tilting it up to let the dregs go down to where her overwhelming pain could find no release. Nothing, not one drop left. She flung the offending bottle away with a savage gesture and it rolled out of sight. Like her life, it was empty. There was something she had to do, but what?
The pain inside her head bit at her like some rabid dog, snarling as she struggled up and tried to take control. Her empty eyes moved slowly round until they alighted on the shelf, and then she saw it. Now Ellie knew where she had to go.
Rising unsteadily to her feet she swayed through the door, down the hall into the tiny filthy kitchen. A huge lacy cobweb hung down from one corner, where a poor fly had become trapped and was beyond help. Walking over to the old stone sink she splashed her face underneath the cold tap, which made the longing scream out for release. She must have a drink!
Ellie was not aware of moving back through the cottage and out of the door with bare feet, still wearing the pyjamas she’d worn for two days covered in red stains. Nothing mattered. Half way down the path of the neglected garden she paused. Shed door stood wide open as it had done so long ago…as if time had stood still.
Something cut into her foot but she was unaware of it. However, she was of something else. The small white transparent shape which suddenly appeared and floated towards the gate, where it turned and hovered.
"My little butterfly!" she screamed, a terrifying sound; like a wounded animal, which rent the air and came flying back to ring in her ears. For a few moments the apparition seemed to be beckoning before slowly dissolving away into the rapidly cooling air.
She began to sob like a child, "Come back! Oh God, don’t leave me."
It was only then she vaguely noticed that the light was fading; everything was taking on weird shadows as the night began folding its arms across the land. She moved as if in a dream; which in reality had become a nightmare, through the small sagging gate across the patch of waste ground that led directly into the wood.
There was no fear of this dank place, where trees had twisted limbs which stretched across in front of her, bare branches slapping her face as she stumbled forward, as if to prolong the punishment. The path she followed was overgrown, no beauty here where the elements had taken control. Empty, deserted, tainted for ever.
A slight snapping of the undergrowth came from the left of her but there was no heeding it, no letting the sound in. Just here the path widened, the trees fallen, rotted over years just where they lay. The stench of decay rising up from the piles of autumn leaves.
Grasping a trunk for support Ellie stood, aware of small patches of fading light managing to break through the gloom. The headache began to fade, and in its place came the shakes. ‘God, I could do with a drink,’ she thought, fighting a losing battle with the numbness of feeling that she had for so long lived with. The only thing her brain was able to remember was the date. How could she ever forget the twenty sixth day of October, when that summer had been the warmest on record and everything had come to a thundering end?
A kind of white haze began to rise up from the ground as the first frost stiffened the grass and could be felt in the air. Moving endlessly on; like a road of no return, automatically she moved while the darkness closed in. She had followed this path many times before and yet it was always the same, leading only to one thing, that horror of indescribable measure which had overtaken her.
She was getting nearer and the tension inside was growing; desperation almost overcame her will and the urge to turn back and keep on running. And yet it drew her onwards like a moth to a flame. Lured her like the day of reckoning she prayed would come soon.
The trees were thinning out into a large grassy space, made for playing or picnics… And there it stood, lurking in the shadow.
Ellie felt her breath coming out in painful gasps and a pounding in her ears as her thoughts floated back in time. Seven long years, seven years of pain and regrets. Seven years of wanting to die, and yet not having the guts to end it all.
With tottering steps she moved forward just as the moon emerged from behind a cloud and shone down, lighting up the clearing. She stood before it once more living that horrifying moment of disbelief, when her mind had not registered what she had been seeing.
Her fingers strayed out and touched the tree, the thick bark, rough to touch. Gradually her eyes moved upwards against her will, there was no stopping them, no taking hold of herself. That had gone long ago when the despair had led her down into a pit where the walls were too steep for her to climb back out.
It was still there protruding out at an angle, obscene and hateful. The nail; driven into the tree, one like this had been used for a terrible purpose. It was such a simple everyday object, which had grown out of all proportion in her mind.
She had replaced it, now she did not know why, at the time it had seemed the only thing to do to remind her. There had been no need. Now she wanted to pull it out, destroy it. Just as she was about to act she heard a slight noise coming from behind her. First the pain came and then a blinding flash of light, before the darkness closed in and all thoughts came to an abrupt end.
Two
God, how he hated this place! How he hated each boring day when he had to return home to an empty shell of a house he had once called home. His life had become one tedious round of work, and bed. By the time he had completed the chores it was too much of a bother to go out. What had happened to all those friends’ who had assured him after the funeral that they would keep in touch? Some friends!
Mentally he shrugged it away as he pushed open the glass door and walked towards his office. As he passed the receptionist’s desk, she called out, "Morning, Mr Staines, bit chilly isn’t it?"
Hugh nodded, irritated by this young woman’s cheerfulness. Inside his comfortable office he sat consulting the list of patients he had to see. Most of their names were known to him, but not the first one on the list. He read the notes left on the desk for him, not much to learn there, probably another no-hoper.
‘I shouldn’t be thinking like this,’ he thought guiltily, moving the armchairs into place to his satisfaction. He had never been one to sit be