A Date with Death Read online

  A Date with Death

  K Pierce

  Copyright © 2018 K Pierce

  All rights reserved.

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  For Jill

  I miss you every day

  Prologue

  Well this was unexpected. But then, Sarah thought, it was only the most recent unexpected development in a day that had, quite frankly, been filled with them. Firstly, the car had blown a tyre. That had made her more than an hour late for work, which usually wouldn’t have been a problem, but this morning her boss was already on the war path and had called Sarah into her office to give her a swift bollocking regarding her conduct on the phone with a customer the day before. That had escalated to a rather passionate ‘discussion’ which had ended with Sarah being told to pack up her desk and leave. Being escorted from the building by security and flipping the bird to practically everyone as she left, was the very satisfying icing on that particular cake.

  Then there was Alex.

  For the past few weeks she and Alex had been playing phone tag. Sarah had desperately tried to set up a date with the one person who actually seemed to understand her. They’d had long, meaningful conversations well into the wee hours of the morning about everything from Buddhism to which was the superior variety of biscuit, but Alex had been wary about meeting up and over the last week their exchanges had dwindled. Now, after hastily tapping out text after text about her over-sensitive boss and this new dramatic chapter in her life, Alex had finally agreed to a date.

  Sarah’s whole being thrummed with nervous energy all afternoon. Her restlessness was only exacerbated by the perfect romantic spot that Alex had suggested and the need to find the most alluring dress and plan her seduction.

  She’d practically skipped from the empty car park, down the footpath that skirted woodland usually favoured by bird watchers, to the sprawling picnic area that overlooked the valley. She loved looking down across the rolling fields and small villages that made up her beautiful little part of the world. She could be anybody up here and forget all about her crappy life.

  Sarah glanced around. It was barely three thirty in the afternoon but the chill of the late October afternoon, and the fact that it was a work day, meant that she was alone. She pushed herself up to sit on one of the picnic tables and tugged her thick cardigan around her. Dark clouds gathered on the horizon and Sarah hoped that they weren’t an omen of some kind. Looking down at her watch she realised that she was early. That was a first.

  ‘Sarah?’ The voice startled her. She shot to her feet and turned to face the newcomer. ‘Hi, I’m Alex.’ It took a moment for her brain to catch up with her eyes. Her mouth went dry and it dawned on her that in her haste to meet up she’d made more than a few rookie mistakes planning this date. ‘It’s nice to finally meet you. I wasn’t sure this was ever going to happen.’ He flashed her a smile and moved tentatively forward. Sarah took a step back.

  Alex frowned, then something seemed to dawn on him. ‘The profile pictures! Right! I know I might not quite be what you were expecting.’ That was an understatement. The silence stretched out. He smiled again, this one less certain. ‘Are you going to say anything?’

  ‘This-’ Her voice cracked, sounding small in the open space. She cleared her throat and tried again. ‘This was a mistake. You’re really not what I was expecting. I’m sorry.’ She moved to step around him, but his hand shot out and gripped her bicep.

  ‘Come on. Just give me a shot. You never know, you might enjoy yourself.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I really can’t.’

  The grip on her arm tightened painfully and she winced. ‘Just a walk then?’ He said, nudging her away from the path and towards the trees. ‘We can talk. Things might work out better than you think.’

  Sarah briefly considered her options. He was at least four inches taller than her and the way his hoody stretched tightly across his chest and arms suggested nothing but solid muscle packed beneath the fabric. She didn’t have a cat in hell’s chance of fighting him off. She could scream but she hadn’t seen another soul in the whole time she’d been up here, and she really didn’t want to piss him off.

  They began to move and as the moments ticked by the daylight around them began to fade. Sarah had thought the early evening would bring with it an air of romance, allowing them to watch the stars and right the wrongs of the world. Instead it brought with it a tingle of fear and panic.

  Alex’s grip loosened a little but looking down at her flat ballet pumps she didn’t think she could outrun him even if she did break free, especially after leaving the footpath. They walked quietly, stepping over broken branches and bracken that were succumbing to the change in season. Sarah’s thoughts raced, at odds with the pace of their somewhat leisurely stroll. To anybody watching they would look like a young couple out for a romantic walk in the woods. Sarah struggled to wrap her head around the surreal situation. It was almost like a dream. Something snagged her ankle and she stumbled, stopped only from hitting the deck by the strong arms that now encircled her.

  ‘You don’t have to do that you know.’

  ‘Do what?’ She asked.

  ‘Pretend to fall to get into my arms.’ His lips quirked in a half smile and she could hear the huskiness of arousal in his low voice. ‘If you wanted a kiss you could’ve just asked.’ He pulled her closer and she could smell the woody scent of his aftershave, could feel the hard bulge in his pants against her. She started to struggle but he pressed his lips against her own regardless. His fat, wet tongue forced itself into her mouth and she fought an urge to vomit. She resisted, tempted to bite down as hard as she could, but somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered once being told to just go with it. If he thought she was having a good time she might get out of this in one piece.

  Sarah tried to relax and let him kiss her. She felt him smile before he pulled away. ‘See, that wasn’t so bad was it?’ Bile rose into the back of her throat at the look of pleasure on his face. ‘Come on.’ He grasped her hand in his own and tugged. ‘We’re almost there.’

  ‘Almost where?’

  ‘My special spot, you’re going to love it. I picked it out just for you. It’s quiet and we won’t be disturbed.’

  ‘We could just go back to mine?’ she tried.

  ‘We could. It’s so beautiful out here though. Just like you.’ In the dim light she thought she saw him wink.

  A few moments later he stopped. She looked around and frowned, everything looked the same. Trees, bracken, solitude, hopelessness. She was about to say something when she spotted it. The ground to her right dipped and a dried-up ditch ran through the undergrowth. Her eyes followed its progress through the trees, coming to a halt at the large concrete tube set into the bushes.

  ‘You like? It’s an old storm drain, I think. I’ve been up here a few times, not with other girls though,’ he added hastily, ‘this is purely your spot. But, yeah, I’ve been up here, and it never seems to fill with water. I don’t know why.’ His rambling caught Sarah off guard and she realised that he was nervous, convinced that he was on a proper date.

  ‘I don’t think I can do this.’ The words were out before she could stop them. She closed her eyes and held her breath at her own stupidity.

  ‘Sure you can. We’re perfect together and this is going to be amazing.’

  ‘No. Alex-’ She turned, and her mouth snapped shut. In the dying light a shadow passed across his face and his eyes darkened. The change was instantaneous, and she wished for just a moment that she had the strength to go through with what he wanted.

  ‘Do you know how much thought I put into this? How much effort I put into you?’ His voice was calm, like he was merely asking the time of
day, but his face told a different story. She tried to shrink away from him, but his thick fingers crushed her hand and she felt bones give way, grinding against each other. She whimpered at the sudden pain and her eyes slammed shut as the first blow connected.

  Sarah swayed on her feet but didn’t go down. Stinging heat flared across her face as her teeth rattled and she felt her lip split. Alex let go of her broken hand and reared back. Sarah threw herself forward as hard as her stunned body would allow and knocked him off balance. He muttered something and stumbled into the brush.

  The momentum kept her going and she took off running. Twigs scraped her legs and stones dug painfully into her feet through the thin material of her shoes. She hadn’t gone more than fifty yards when Alex’s weight collided with her back and sent her sprawling into the ditch. The air rushed from her lungs and a thousand tiny sparks danced behind her eyelids. Stones and twigs dug painfully into her bare flesh, ripping her skin. Alex flipped her over easily and pulled at her torn and dirty clothes. She could feel his excitement as he fumbled and groped at her.

  ‘No!’ Arms flailing weakly Sarah tried to connect with flesh. When lashing out had no effect she raked the fingers of her good hand against his face but her short nails failed to do any damage. She felt the prickle of tears, frustration and anger bubbling up inside of her. This man would not have her consent, would not violate her without a fight. She pushed at his face and felt the satisfying softness of an eyeball against her fingertip.

  ‘Ow! You fucking bitch!’ He swiped at his face as she wriggled uselessly beneath him.

  Alex reached backwards, and Sarah readied herself for the punch. Her eyes flicked upwards and widened at the rock in his grasp.

  ‘No! No! Please!’

  1.

  ‘Have you found him yet?’

  Detective Constable Nat Johnson dug her fingers into the corners of her eyes and tried to rub away the grittiness of another late night. She stuck her head around the computer monitor and frowned. ‘Found who?’

  ‘You’ve been staring at that picture for a good fifteen minutes. The only picture that can hold my attention for that long is a Where’s Wally.’ Detective Sergeant Barry Cosgrove, her partner and best friend, chuckled at his own joke before enthusiastically sinking his teeth into a bacon sandwich.

  ‘You’re a funny guy. If your police career sinks, you should try comedy.’

  He snorted. ‘Seriously though, what are you staring at?’

  ‘Crime scene photo. A few of them actually.’

  ‘Ours?’

  ‘No.’ Nat leaned back in her chair, groaning at the satisfying pops in her spine. ‘A mate of mine up in Cumbria sent them to me. Unidentified victim, no leads. Really vicious, caved her face in with a rock, then the sick fuck raped her.’ Barry’s eyebrows shot skyward, but it didn’t put him off his breakfast. ‘Yep, after she was dead. It’s been a few weeks and they’re out of leads. You know I’m a sucker for a cold case.’

  ‘It’s hardly cold. A few weeks means it’s still lukewarm, if you ask me.’ The last of the sandwich disappeared. ‘Find anything?’

  ‘Nothing that they don’t already know. I pity the poor sods that have to figure that one out.’ She sighed and reached for her cup. The lukewarm tea in the bottom of it made her gag and she stood to get a refill. She was reaching for Barry’s cup when a uniformed officer stuck his head around the door. ‘Gaz Shepherd’s brief just turned up.’

  Nat looked at her partner. ‘Again?’

  Barry wadded up his rubbish and tossed it into the already overflowing bin. ‘They brought him in about an hour ago.’

  ‘I swear that man makes it his mission to get arrested on a weekly basis. What did he do this time? And why are we dealing with it?’

  Barry passed her a sheet of paper and leaned against the desk while she read. ‘They’re short staffed downstairs, and since he specifically asked for you, they asked for us to get it sorted. Gaz makes the place look untidy, apparently.’ When she looked up, he was trying his hardest not to laugh.

  ‘Are you winding me up?’

  He shook his head. ‘The pillock broke into a pet shop?’

  ‘He did indeed.’

  ‘And got caught trying to run off with two snakes and a goldfish?’

  ‘The snakes were hidden in his undercrackers, luckily they weren’t venomous and were quite dopey. Probably traumatised after sharing such a cramped and dirty space with his own one-eyed trousersnake. Could’ve been painful otherwise.’ He winced at the thought.

  ‘What about the fish?’

  ‘He had it in his hand when the two PC’s caught him sneaking out the back. He tried to…dispose of it.’

  ‘Do I want to know?’ She asked.

  ‘He swallowed it.’

  ‘That’ll be a no then.’ She clicked off her monitor with a sigh, grabbed the file and headed for the door.

  ***

  The café was empty. One of the few perks of starting work before most of the world had even woken up was that your internal clock didn’t run the same as everyone else’s. The usual mid-morning breaks for most became lunch for Nat and that meant no queues or waiting for tables and service. Bliss.

  Nat and Barry had been joined by two other members of their team. DC Phil Bailey, who was unlucky enough to share his name with an old-school singer, making him the butt of many a joke and unprovoked outbursts of Easy Lover. He made out like he hated it, but Nat knew what an attention-whore the man could be. He also liked to think of himself as a lady’s man and had used the song to his advantage on more than one occasion.

  The new boy to their department, DC Ryan Burton, had been with them for less than six months and Nat had taken as instant shine to him. Ryan was young but his intelligence and the logical way he thought out problems was making him more valuable by the day. Rumour had it that he’d been jilted at the alter by his childhood sweetheart, which didn’t make it easy for him to trust people. A good attribute for a police officer but it made it hard to get to know him, and even harder to get him to open up when something was bothering him. His slender figure and round frame glasses made him look more like Harry Potter than a copper. Still, he was no less shrewd or observant than the others. His quiet and sensitive nature complemented Phil’s brash, loud mouthed approach to life perfectly.

  ‘So how was the fabulous Mr Shepherd today?’ Phil asked.

  Nat waited until the waitress had set down their mugs and wandered away before answering. She watched with disgust as Phil proceeded to empty four packets of sugar into his coffee. She could practically hear his arteries hardening across the table. ‘As stupid as ever.’

  They had watched Gaz fidget for over an hour and a half. His greasy black hair kept falling forward into his eyes and he’d spent most of his time raking it backwards with a hand that looked like it hadn’t seen a bar of soap for a long time. His knee bounced erratically under the table. It happened each time they had the pleasure of interviewing him and Nat found that the guiltier he was the faster he bounced.

  She opened the file in front of her and scanned over what she already knew. Crap childhood, him and his mum battered by a dad who did a runner when Gaz was fifteen, hooked on drugs and doing anything that would pay for a fix. She shuffled through the various accounts of his criminal history.

  ‘Honestly Gaz,’ Nat sighed, ‘when are you going to pack all this in and get yourself on the straight and narrow? I’m sick of seeing you in here.’

  He gave her his best innocent look. ‘I didn’t do nowt.’

  ‘We caught you with your hand in the cookie jar this time, Gaz.’

  He flashed her a grin made up of broken and discoloured teeth. ‘Didn’t taste much like cookies.’

  ‘So, you admit that you broke into the pet shop and stole two snakes and a fish? Which I can only assume that you were going to try and flog for a fix? You then, in a bid to destroy the evidence, callously murdered said animals?’

  ‘I’m not admitting owt. I just found those
animals outside that shop, must’ve escaped somehow. I didn’t do no murdering though. That fish was already dead. Just saving you the cost of a funeral.’ He leered at her. ‘If you’re a bit down about it though and you need a shoulder to cry on, Sweetheart, I’ve got two of ‘em.’

  Nat’s account of the interview was interrupted again by the waitress. She expertly handed out the fully loaded plates stacked up her arms. When she headed back towards the kitchen the guys hastily added an unhealthy amount of sauce and salt to their food.

  ‘He’s still carrying that torch then?’ It was a running joke around the station that Gaz Shepherd had a massive crush on Nat, and the theory was that he committed so much petty crime in a freaky bid to spend time with her.

  ‘Don’t start,’ she warned.

  ‘He was even wearing deodorant this time.’ Barry winked.

  ‘Wow,’ Ryan chipped in, ‘that’s some serious effort. Did it work?’ He pretended not to notice the withering look that Nat gave him.

  ‘Nope. The poor bloke is looking at a stretch in one of at Her Majesty’s finest establishments with nothing but a broken heart.’

  Phil swallowed a mouthful of bacon. ‘What did you say to him this time? Did you let him down gently?’

  ‘That she’d rather roll around in razor blades and then skinny dip in a pool full of vinegar than have anything to do with him.’ Her partner said.

  ‘Your ventriloquist skills are coming along really nicely there, Nat.’ Phil chuckled. Barry’s face turned pink and he had the grace to look sheepish.

  They ate in relative silence but the mood around their table had changed and Nat could tell there was something they wanted to say. Furtive glances passed between the three men and she caught the odd nod or glare. She finished up her food and slowly placed her cutlery on the plate. Pushing it away she took a sip of tea, amused that none of them would meet her gaze.