Daddy Won't Kill You- The Haunting in the Woods Read online

“Well, enough to get a proper job.” Lauren looked across at Steve. The instant the words left her mouth, she blushed with shame and regret. She turned away quickly and stared at the dark, empty road.

  Steve lowered his own eyes and seemed to shrink lower into the seat. He had no fight left and wanted the journey to be over. He looked out the window and could just make out the verges, oceans of green covered with prickly gorse long past flowering and deep pink foxgloves, as well as the rowan trees whose red berries heralded autumn. The oasis of nature rushed past the car as they sped toward the cabin that had been such a big part of their marriage.

  Lauren glanced over to whisper an apology, but Steve was deep within his own thoughts, his fists clenched as he stared out of the window. She turned back to the road and saw a glimmer of light in the distance—a rest stop. She pulled the car into the car park and turned off the engine. Closing her eyes, she plucked up her courage and prayed that the fight was over before looking over and meeting Steve’s eyes.

  A fist seemed to clench around her stomach as she realized how much she loved him. “Steve … I’m so sorry …” Lauren whispered, and Steve moved closer to her. She felt his breath across her neck and knew she couldn’t lose him too.

  “I think I’m just so tired and stressed about selling the cabin.”

  “I know.” He reached out and cupped her chin, rubbing a thumb across her cheek. “We’re both tired and worried about the future, but we need to think about now. About them.” He pointed to the back seat.

  Lauren nodded and wiped tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  Steve kissed her lips, and it felt like home. “Apology accepted,” he whispered against her ear.

  Maybe there was hope. Maybe this holiday was what they needed. Lauren put on a big smile and realized she was looking forward to the break. She turned toward the children. “Come on, pumpkins. Let’s go eat.”

  Steve jumped out of the car and grabbed his daughter from the booster seat. He raised her high in the air and looked up into her angelic face and laughing sky-blue eyes, all worry gone for now. He spun her round in the air and sang, “Lucy Locket lost her pocket.”

  Lucy joined in, delighted at the game, her voice high and happy. “But Kitty Fisher found it.”

  The next line was Chase’s voice, still high, though he tried to deepen it. “But never a penny was there in it.”

  Lauren finished the verse, her voice melodious and happy. “But the binding round it.”

  Lucy screamed with delight as Steve spun her around and then popped her onto his shoulders. The family was a unit again and they headed as one toward the diner. A gust of wind blew a newspaper toward them and Steve stepped nimbly aside to avoid it. As the paper tumbled across the night-black tarmac, he put a tentative arm around Lauren’s waist, hoping that she would accept the gesture. He felt a rush of warmth and love as she leaned against him.

  They crossed the car park with little Chase leading the way and stepped out of the dark, depressing night and into the sterile brightness of the building. Steve picked up a free paper, folding it beneath his arm without looking. It would help pass the time later.

  Behind them, the paper fluttered onward. It narrowly missed a white van and stopped against a chain-link fence that separated the gray of the tarmac from an ocean of wild grass, splattered with flowers that looked black in the moonlight.

  The paper fanned open, before settling against the fence, on the image of Val, a woman who could be Lauren. Her hair cut into a fifties’ style shoulder-length bob, she was immaculate, if old-fashioned, dressed in a formal skirt and a crisp blouse, with a scarf tied neatly around her neck.

  Chapter 3

  The car headlights lit up the narrow road as Steve piloted the SUV toward the cabin. In the last hour, he had relaxed. He felt better driving, a little more in control, and his excitement grew with every mile closer to their destination. He would make this a good holiday, rebuild their marriage, restore his own batteries, and lay out his plans to Lauren. The idea of consulting had come to him a few months ago. It would ease him back into his former work, financial management, without putting too much stress on his heart.

  Most of all, it would help with their finances and give Lauren the ability to slow down a little. They would survive, and they would grow stronger. All he had to do was get her over selling the cabin and get her to agree to his plan. Despite her harsh words, he knew she worried. Knew it was the worry that made her seem difficult. The stress and the fatigue were overwhelming, and he wanted to help her through them.

  He could feel her as she watched him. She was leaning against the side window, a smile curled onto her lips.

  As he thought about the stress, he remembered the heart attack that had changed their lives and the warning: take it easy or you won’t make another year.

  His resolve failed a little. Maybe he should leave it another month, recuperate a bit more—but somehow he knew now was the right time, and as long as all went well, it would help rebuild them.

  “You know I just want the best for ...” Lauren’s eyes flicked to the back seat and the sleeping children. “Them,” she finished.

  Steve nodded, feeling hope rise within him. Lauren was taking the change in circumstances hard, selling the cabin, the older car, less spending money, but he knew deep down inside that none of that really mattered. He allowed his own eyes to leave the road and glanced at the children via the rear-view mirror. They were snuggled up beneath blankets, like bookends on the rear seat. They looked so safe, cocooned within the comfort of the metal vehicle as they were whisked through the night. Lucy was all innocence, her thumb tucked in her mouth, her eyelids flickering. Chase had relaxed in sleep and looked once more like a carefree little boy. His hair flopped over his face, covering his eyes.

  Steve’s chest filled with warmth and love and he nodded at Lauren. It was so nice to be free of the bickering, even if for just a little while.

  Pulling his attention back on the road, Steve shifted his eyes past Lauren, who relaxed against the seat. Her weary eyes struggled to stay open, but she managed a smile. Steve returned it before looking back at the road. Letting out a sigh, he rolled his shoulders. They were going to make it. This holiday would give them the time to slow down and realize how much they still had to be grateful for. He had never realized how much he’d missed when he was working so hard, but since his illness, he had come to appreciate his time at home. Now he didn’t want to give it up.

  He signaled and pulled off the main road onto a narrower lane that would take them the last sixty miles to the cabin. Lauren closed her eyes and he heard her breathing deepen and slow as she started to drift off to sleep. She needed the rest. Steve eased off the accelerator just a little. Taking the corners a little slower would allow her to sleep easier.

  Lauren had always admonished him about his working hours and yet now she had become him, always too busy to be with the children, always too stressed to enjoy the little things. He hadn’t realized how grumpy he was until his job was gone. Maybe she didn’t realize just how much it affected her mood.

  Steve passed through a sleepy hamlet, the street lights illuminating the quaint cottages with their neat and colorful gardens. He noted the small shop and café they had frequented on previous visits. It brought back good memories, but then he was out of the village and the darkness seemed to descend on the car. There was no traffic now as he headed through a forest of twisted oaks and huge beech trees. He loved the deciduous forests. The variety of trees, each with its own character, supported much more life than the so-called factory forests full of regimented pines.

  He hoped they would see some deer this trip; the kids would love it, and sometimes they were almost tame near the cabin. You could get close if you were patient and quiet. He chuckled to himself. Lucy would never manage to keep still.

  He turned the car around a steep bend and started to climb up the hill. He pushed down on the accelerator to compensate for the gradient and the car responded, maint
aining speed easily enough. Sometimes he missed the Mercedes, but this SUV was solid and reliable and kind of fun to drive. The kids appreciated the extra height of the vehicle, which gave them such good all- around views.

  They leveled out and sped along, like they were leaving behind their troubles and moving toward a new future. The powerful headlights illuminated the road ahead and suddenly seemed to spotlight an object on the verge. It seemed odd, but as Steve got closer, he slowed the car and suddenly realized what it was. Someone had left it here for sale, a rough sign giving the price of £5.

  Without thinking, he slammed on the brakes. The car dipped violently and the tires protested with a squeal as they lurched to a halt.

  Lauren jerked upright, her eyes wide and fear lining her face. “Are you all right?” she asked, reaching out to touch Steve’s arm.

  “Look.”

  “Steve, damn it, what’s wrong?”

  Steve smiled down at his wife’s concerned face and pointed out the window. Silhouetted in the headlights was a rocking chair.

  Lauren put a hand to her chest and let out a sigh. “I thought you’d had ... I thought your heart ... damn it, Steve. It’s just an old chair. What are you doing?”

  Steve felt a little hurt and a little foolish. Why did I stop? He glanced into the rear seat; the children slept on, unaware of the drama. At least this time they wouldn’t see him berated. He moved to push the gear lever back into drive, but something stopped him once more. It’s perfect. He pulled on the handbrake and turned to Lauren, taking a deep breath. “It’s just what you wanted for the deck.”

  “The deck of the cabin I have to sell, since you lost your job.”

  The words cut deep, and he felt himself shrink. “So you do blame me?” He shifted the gear lever back into drive and eased off the handbrake. The car started to roll forward, the chair spotlighted before them.

  Lauren let out a sigh. “That’s not what I said. Look, I’m tired, but I don’t need a chair.” She leaned toward Steve and touched the brushed cotton of his plaid shirt. She hadn’t meant how this was going and Steve looked so miserable, almost beaten; what had she done? “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He slammed on the brakes. “It’s £5. You’re having it.”

  Steve got out of the car before his courage left him. The cold night air was like walking into a freezer and he hitched his shirt up around his neck. He crossed the road and walked up to the chair. Lauren would enjoy this, and maybe it would give them some good memories. Well worth £5.

  On a crumbling gatepost, yellow crime scene tape screamed a warning that Steve failed to see as he bent over the old rocking chair. He pushed the chair and was pleased that it rocked smoothly back and forth. In the still night, it soon stopped and he reached down and rubbed his fingers over the chair’s back. The wood felt silky smooth beneath his fingers, but deep marks were cut across the arms, as if someone had tried to saw across them in lots of different places. Some of the edges were rough and a splinter pricked his finger, causing blood to spurt out and splash the polished wood.

  He pulled his finger up and sucked the blood. A quick rub with some sandpaper and the arms would be fine. Lifting the cardboard with the £5 price tag, he headed up the weed-ridden path to the old cottage.

  Still sucking his bloody finger, he knocked on the door. It gave a desolate, hollow sound and he knew the house was empty. He knocked again, shifting from foot to foot, cold and impatient to be on his way as the cottage’s black, empty windows stared back at him. There really was no one home. He reached into his pocket and pulled out some cash, stuffing £5 through the letterbox before returning down the path to the chair.

  As he reached it, an owl hooted behind him and the chair began to rock. A shiver ran down his spine, as the night was deadly still. For a second, he wanted to run back to the car. Jesus, man. Are things that bad? He stopped himself and reached down and picked up the chair.

  The trunk of the SUV was packed to bursting. No way was the chair fitting. Reaching between the cases, he pulled out a rope and hoisted the chair onto the roof rack, securing it before climbing back into the welcome warmth.

  Lauren’s face was soft with love.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Steve was filled with joy. This was the old Lauren, the one he loved so much. “I can just see you sitting on the deck reading.”

  “What would I have time to read?” She chuckled in the darkness.

  “I brought your recipe book.” Steve knew embarrassment and joy were warming him just as much as the car’s ample heating. Picking up that chair had been a good choice.

  “But …” she started.

  “You love to cook, and since ... You’ve been too busy taking care of everything, well ... this holiday you deserve some alone time.”

  Lauren smiled and relaxed back into the seat. “A few hours in the kitchen would be heaven.”

  Steve was starting to feel more confident and his voice rose with enthusiasm. “Then it’s sorted. The pumpkins and I will give you some peace.”

  “But I love being with them too.” Lauren’s eyebrows knitted together at the dilemma.

  Steve’s smile slipped as he took the innocent statement as an insult.

  Lauren smiled. “I meant with all of you.” She patted his arm good-naturedly.

  Steve recovered quickly. “Fishing?”

  Lauren laughed, a light, comfortable sound, and leaned back in the seat. “Cooking it is, then.”

  Chapter 4

  The SUV bumped over the rutted gravel track, passing through the sentinel pines before breaking out into the open. The headlights lit up a majestic valley surrounded by imposing hills. Over to the left, grass rolled down to a mirror-black lake that nestled beneath the pines. To the right, a small log cabin sat on a hillock before a backdrop of deciduous trees.

  A smile crossed Steve’s face as he remembered sunny days and the children laughing. How they had raced across the grass and fished in the lake, Lucy always laughing, Chase pretending he only wanted to read.

  Steps led up to a raised deck and a table sat next to the window, where they had enjoyed many a happy meal, eating, drinking, the nights as full of laughter as the days. A game of Snap came to mind and how Lucy had squealed with delight, not realizing they were all letting her win. They did that a lot as she was so predictable in how she played.

  The moon peeked from behind the clouds as they drew closer and showed the rustic cabin in all its glory.

  This is going to be a wonderful trip.

  Steve pulled the car over in front of the cabin and turned off the engine. He relaxed against the headrest, breathed out, and enjoyed the quiet.

  “Are we here?” Lauren asked, her sleepy eyes blinking in the semi-dark.

  “Yes.” Steve looked down at her. With her hair mussed up and barely awake, she looked so beautiful.

  “Wait here a minute.” Steve got out of the warm car and stepped into the chill night. The wind whispered in the trees and crickets chirped in the bushes. He smiled at Lauren and hauled the chair from the car roof, carrying it effortlessly to the deck in front of the cabin and placing it next to a table and four chairs.

  He tossed the rope over the banister that ran around the deck and unlocked the cabin. It smelled fresh and clean and he switched on the lights. There was a note on the side. He didn’t need to read it; Jennifer, from the village, would have prepared the cabin for them. She would have cleaned, made the beds, and filled the fridge and cupboards. She was a godsend, as the cabin was remote, but she never complained.

  Switching on the outside light, Steve returned to the car.

  Grabbing a book from the back seat, he guided Lauren to the rocker. “Here, sit.” He handed her the book. “Pick out a recipe for tomorrow while I take care of the pumpkins.”

  She sank into the chair and opened the book, absently skipping through the pages as he put the children to bed.

  Lauren rocked back and forth, relaxing as she wondered which pie she woul
d cook tomorrow. She couldn’t decide between two, both family favorites.

  From deep within the woods, an owl hooted somewhere behind her. Something felt wrong. She stopped rocking and shivered, suddenly wide awake and alert.

  The moon was full, so she peered into the night but could see nothing. Shadows surrounded them. The light did not penetrate the trees, but this was a peaceful place. It had never spooked her before. Staring for a while longer, she could see nothing amiss. All seemed fine, so why did it suddenly feel wrong?

  She let out a sigh, realizing it was just her nerves playing up. Relaxing again, she rocked gently in the cool breeze. Closing her eyes, she surrendered to the gentle movement, now pleased that Steve had stopped for the chair.

  “One hot choc.”

  Lauren’s eyes opened lazily as Steve handed her a steaming mug and pulled up a chair beside her.

  “Thanks. Are they settled?” Lauren sipped the warming liquid.

  “They never even stirred.” He picked up her recipe book and scanned the pages. “I have a friend who says there’s a big market for cookbooks. Your pies are legendary. Maybe it’s time you put one together.”

  Lauren turned to see him better. “I know I’ve talked about it, but what do I know about writing?”

  Steve leaned forward and moved a stray curl from her cheek. “We’re a team,” he said. “In my job, I wrote enough reports. I would love to help you.”

  “You ... really?”

  Lauren’s tone cut deep and for a second, Steve’s smile faded.

  “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant,” Lauren said quickly, not wanting to spoil the mood. “You think you could do that?”

  “I have hidden talents,” he said with a suggestive smile.

  Lauren laughed, a deep and provocative sound. “Really?”

  “That sounds like a challenge. Why don’t I give you a demonstration?”

  “I should be so lucky,” Lauren teased as she started to rise from the chair.