The Good Patient

Alex Stone

Description

A psychological thriller from Alex Stone, bestselling author of The Perfect Daughter and The Other Girlfriend.

"A brilliant book. I loved it!" - Bestselling author B.A Paris.

Appearances can be deceptive...

I was taught that life is pain. That love is pain. It was unavoidable. Acceptable. I never had anything, or anyone I could count on. Not really. Not even myself.

Until I met Dr Menon...

To the outside world Lauren Taylor’s relationship with her boyfriend Josh is perfect. He is supportive and loving and has been there for Lauren during her darkest moments. But behind closed doors, secrets and lies can be hidden…

And when Lauren wakes up in a hospital bed and is told Josh is missing, those secrets come bubbling up to the surface.

Because the police think Lauren knows exactly what’s happened to Josh; that she could even be capable of his murder…

The only person who believes in Lauren's innocence is Dr Menon, who has cared for Lauren as his patient for the last few weeks. He can't believe she's capable of murder. He knows just how good she really is.

Isn’t she?

A gripping new psychological thriller from bestselling author Alex Stone. Perfect for fans of Sue Watson, Shalini Boland and S.E.Lynes

Chillingly Compelling 5 ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐Bestselling author Diane Saxon

I just finished #TheOtherGirlfriend by Alex Stone Author and OMG. I had such an ominous feeling of uncertainty as I turned the pages. It was tense, engrossing and twisty! Loved it. Full review for publication on #CrimeBookJunkie. Recommend you add it to your TBR! Bestselling author Noelle Holton

A brilliant debut 5 ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐Bestselling author Erin Green

The Good Patient is a compulsive read, with a cracker of a narrative and a terrific twist that will keep you hooked till the end. Dr Marie Adams, author of The Myth of the Untroubled Therapist.

I loved it!!! Couldn't put it down⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐** Life coach and author Lisa Phillips

'A complex novel, with emotional layers and turns that I was not expecting.' Bestselling Author Alison Stockham

Sujets

• Policier & Thriller
• Policier
• Thriller
• Mashups
• Psychological
• Women Sleuths
• Amateur Sleuth
• Traditional
• Medical
• Thrillers
• Women
• Adventure (Guyana)
• Suspenso
• Medical thriller
• 21st century
• Psychological thriller
• Domestic
• Woman
• Psychology
• Medicine
• The Women
• Adventure
• Crime
• Family Life
• Suspense
• Noir
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Boldwood Books
• Date de parution: 22 mars 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781802803334
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE GOOD PATIENT


ALEX STONE
For Abhi.
CONTENTS



Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72


Acknowledgments

More from Alex Stone

About the Author

About Boldwood Books

The Murder List
1
NOW (SEPTEMBER)

Not again.
The foggy drowsiness that weighed against me was disturbingly familiar. As was the throbbing in my head that penetrated through the darkness. It was persistent. Nauseating.
I knew pain. I was used to it. Numbed to it. It had been a part of my life for so long. But it was a part that I had promised myself was over now. Enough was enough.
At least that was the plan.
And yet…
My eyelids fluttered as I tried to summon the strength to open them. Shards of bright sunlight instantly blinded me and I scrunched my eyes closed again.
I lay still, sheltered in the darkness. My brain felt lethargic and hazy. It was tempting to allow myself to drift back to sleep.
Not again .
That one thought was enough to cling to. Enough to keep me going. Enough to survive.
I fought to focus my thoughts, internally checking in with every part of my body, assessing the damage. Nothing felt broken. Nothing else hurt. Cautiously I wiggled my toes. I could still move them.
A rhythmic beep caught my attention. There was something familiar and calming about it. I inhaled deeply. The overpowering bitter clinical scent filled my nostrils. I smiled slightly. I knew that smell.
Most people hated it and what it represented. Where it represented. But to me it was safety. It was kindness.
‘Ms Taylor,’ a deep voice disrupted my thoughts, and I cautiously opened my eyes again.
I squinted at the figure beside my bed, dark haired with a light-brown skin tone. He was wearing blue scrubs and the stethoscope around his neck gleamed as the sunlight reflected off it.
He poked his black framed glasses with his forefinger, pushing them higher on his nose. ‘I’m Dr Menon,’ he said, with a soft, lilting accent. ‘I treated you about six months ago.’
Abhilash.
‘I remember.’ My voice was groggy and faint. Despite the drowsiness, I remembered him. How could I forget?
‘That was quite a blow you took to your head,’ he continued as he studied the notes in his hands. He looked up and his eyes met mine. ‘You had us worried.’
I could see the concern etched into his features. He was telling the truth. His concern was genuine. He had been worried.
About me.
I swallowed. ‘I’m sorry,’ I mumbled softly. Guilt pressed against my chest. Another sensation I was too acquainted with.
‘I’m just glad you’re okay. That’s all that matters.’
I started to nod, but the pounding in my head made me instantly regret that action. But he was right; despite the pounding in my head, I was okay. In fact, I was better than okay. I was back in hospital, but this time was different. Everything was different.
‘Keep your head still and follow my finger with your eyes, please,’ he said as he leaned towards me and raised his index finger. Disappointment washed over me as he moved his finger slowly in an H pattern about thirty centimetres in front of my face.
What had I expected? He was just doing his job.
‘There are a couple of police officers here,’ he said, straightening his back.
‘Police?’ I shifted awkwardly.
‘They want to ask you some questions if you feel up to it?’
There was a protective tone to his words. He would send them away if I asked him to. He’d do it for me.
‘It’s fine,’ I told him. There wasn’t much point in delaying it. He would only be able to hold them off for so long. I might as well deal with their questions now.
He nodded and backed out of the cubicle. ‘Okay,’ I heard him say. ‘You can go in now, but only for a couple of minutes. She needs to rest.’
I swallowed as two uniformed officers walked towards the foot of the bed.
‘Ms Taylor, I’m PC Smith and this is PC Jennings.’ The other officer nodded as PC Smith said her name.
‘Can you tell us what happened?’ PC Jennings asked.
I tried not to flinch at the question. It was one I’d been asked so many times before. People always wanted to know. Wanted to help.
At least that’s what they claimed.
But the reality was no-one was that selfless. There was always a reason. A motive. Something to gain.
I glanced at the open doorway. Well, maybe not everyone.
‘Ms Taylor…’ PC Jennings prompted, stepping into my line of sight.
I drew in a deep breath and tried to recall. How had I got here this time?
‘I was in the water,’ I said slowly, the vague memory of my body rhythmically bobbing, swept up in the current, as darkness descended upon me like morning fog creeping in.
‘Yes, you were found unconscious in the water. The coastguard said your life vest saved you from drowning.’
‘My head.’ I lifted my hand and tentatively touched my forehead. It was bandaged, but even so, my gentle touch made me wince. ‘I hit it.’
The police officers watched me. Silently waiting for me to continue.
I squinted, trying to summon the memories from the murky depths of my mind. Why was I in the sea?
Your life vest saved you.
PC Jenning’s statement circled in my brain. If I’d been swimming, I wouldn’t have been wearing a life vest. I only wore that when I took the jet-ski out.
‘The jet-ski.’ That was it. ‘I was out on the jet-ski.’
The officers glanced at one another, and I knew from their expressions that this revelation wasn’t news to them. ‘But how did you end up in the water?’ PC Smith asked as he shifted position, attempting to block the low September sun from his eyes.
I frowned. There was something about the sunlight that felt off. As though it didn’t fit. ‘Wasn’t there a storm brewing?’
PC Smith nodded. ‘This morning. It got pretty bad for a few hours. The rain has stopped now, but the wind is still strong. Not really ideal weather for jet-skiing. Why did you go out in that?’
‘It wasn’t that bad when I set out. I thought I’d beat it.’
PC Smith’s expression showed how reckless he thought that decision had been. He was right. It had been foolish. And yet… I closed my eyes. I could almost feel the spray in my face.



* * *
The jet-ski lifted as I flew over the crest of another wave. I was going so fast. Too fast for the choppy conditions. But I didn’t care. I felt powerful. Strong. Free.
There was another wave already heading towards me. It was even bigger this time. Common sense told me I should slow down. Head back to shore. I’d never ridden when the sea was so rough before. I wasn’t experienced enough.
My heart pounded. I felt alive for the first time in so long.
I tightened my grip and accelerated more.
I was tired of being sensible. Contained. I wasn’t ready to go back.
A surge of power rippled through my body as the jet-ski sped up and then suddenly the engine spluttered.
I glanced down at it, taking my gaze off the horizon as the steering became heavy and sluggish. I was no longer flying over the top of the water but trudging through treacle.
Something was wrong.
Panic welled in the pit of my stomach, my body instantly recognising that everything had changed in one split second. Without power I would be stranded out here.
I looked up and gasped. I wasn’t just stranded; I was defenceless. Without the power of acceleration, the wave no longer looked like a tempting challenge, but a terrifying monster. I lurched forward, hunkering down against the jet-ski, praying it would offer some protection just as the wave hit.



* * *
My eyes flew open. ‘The engine cut out and I got knocked off the jet-ski.’ My fingers instinctively gripped the bedsheet that covered me, as though it could offer any protection from the force of the impact. I could feel the blow as the wave threw me forwards, banging my head against the jet-ski. It was like being thrown headfirst against concrete. Hard. Disorientating. Painful.
And yet, alongside the pain, there was something else too. Disappointment. A void I felt inside from the absence of power.
Immersed in the icy water, I felt my grip slip before everything faded to nothingness.
‘And Josh Carter?’
I blinked. ‘What about him?’
‘What happened to him?’
I frowned. ‘I don’t understand?’
‘He’s missing.’
‘Missing?’ I repeated the word slowly, as my brain struggled to make sense of it. ‘What do you mean, he’s missing?’ A sense of dread weighed heavily against me.
‘You were the only one pulled from the water. The coastguard hasn’t been able to find Josh yet.’
My eyes widened as I stared at them. ‘He had an accident too?’
The officers exchanged an uncertain look. ‘He was with you on the jet-ski,’ PC Jennings said, hesitantly.
I shook my head. ‘No. I was alone.’
‘Are you certain?’ I heard the doubt in her voice.
I lifted my hand back to my forehead, but it did nothing to help ease the pounding that reverberated through my skull. ‘I was alone,’ I repeated. I knew I was. I wouldn’t have gone out with Josh. Not today. Not ever again.
‘Josh sent a text to his brother, Paul, saying that the two of you were