Die for Me Darling Read online

  Ignoring the doubts, he kicked a little faster. He would run through this, but would he? A few times recently, he had woken not knowing where he was or how he got there. Was he fainting? Sadie just said that he was tired and forgetting that it was nothing to concern him, but now he wondered if that was a lie too.

  The track was muddy but solid under his feet, and it was a pleasant run beneath the trees. After about half a mile, his endorphins started to kick in, and both his mind and body began to relax. The tension dropped from his shoulders, and a cloud lifted off his psyche though he still felt weaker than he should do. They could get through this, they could talk things out. Maybe he could work out why she was lying, why she was taking the pill when they both said they wanted children.

  Nick turned left again, down a steep muddy track towards the sports field. Then he would run across the field and up the other side before meeting the road and heading back to the house.

  As he stepped onto the track, he could see shoe prints. The tread was an Asics Gel track shoe, just like the one he was wearing. Had he run this way yesterday? Or maybe there was another runner who used the same shoe as him? Why was he thinking about running shoes when his marriage was in the sewer? A tree branch caught him across the forehead and brought him back to reality. Calm yourself. His breathing was ragged, and so far, he hadn’t got his stride. It always took him a while to settle into his run, but once he had, he felt as if he could run forever, and that was when the benefits came, the calmness, the serenity, and the clarity.

  The track sloped away from him, and he ducked under another tree branch and turned a corner. On the track was a naked body. A young woman lay, her head toward him, her blonde hair was spread out around her and covered in red-brown smears. Her head was tilted back so that her empty eye sockets stared right at him.

  “No, oh God no,” Nick screamed and dropped to his knees. Sinking into the mud, he reached out to grab onto something, anything. The world spun, and he felt himself falling, falling, and then there was nothing.

  Chapter Three

  Nick woke to the sun filtering down through the trees. It stung his eyes and gave him a headache as he tried to remember what had happened. Where was he? The realization hit him, he was looking up at the sun flickering through the trees. He had been running. Why did he keep fainting and how come he couldn’t remember what had happened. His back was cold and wet, and he reached down. Mud, he was lying on the mud. Slowly he sat up and came face to face with a dead woman.

  Empty eye sockets stared back at him, and a scream ripped from his throat. Her face was white, so white, but it looked like her eyes had been ripped from their sockets. Blood lined the empty holes. They were red, raw, and Nick could see gouge marks deep inside the sockets. They filled his vision, holding him with their gaze, forcing him to look into her very soul.

  Nick stood and backed away from the accusing eyes. With his mouth open and a greasy feeling in his stomach, he looked back at the woman. Each of her hands was tied to a stake on either side of her head, and her legs were the same, making her a big human X. Blood seeped from around the binding and smeared down her wrists. There were cuts on her body. One beneath each breast and the circular slashes reminded him of a smile. A scream started in his throat, and he had to bite down hard to fight off the hysteria. More wounds were splattered all over her torso. They made deep purple indentations but were clean of blood. Counting quickly, sickly, there were six other wounds, making eight in total. One large wound went from just beneath her breasts all the way down to her blonde curly pubes. Four more surrounded it, and the last was an eight-inch rip across her belly. The skin had been pulled back, and beneath, he could see the viscera and purple intestines bulging, pushing at the gap. They looked like parasites, which wanted to spill out of that hole and come after him. Nick shook his head to clear the thought

  Her skin was stark white against the savage wounds. Despite the carnage, she looked so frail, so pure, and so vulnerable. A wave of nausea rose up his gullet, and he turned away, stumbling to his feet and off to the side of the track. Hot bile streamed out of his throat and splashed into the bushes. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.” The words kept repeating, and Nick knew he was getting close to panic.

  He had to get a grip, to regain control. He should check her pulse. Stumbling forward, he dropped to his knees. The cold mud seeped through his running tights and sucked him down. With a trembling hand, he reached out and touched her wrist. The skin was cold and hard, yet still, he pressed on, his fingers slipping in the blood and smearing it across her wrist. There was no hope, she was hard and cold, but still, he searched. Nothing, there was nothing.

  Nick reached up and ran his hand across his face and through his hair. Blood. He looked at his hands, they were covered in blood, and he had just wiped it all across his face. Quickly he rubbed his hands down his clothes and scrubbed off as much of the blood as he could, then he wiped his face with his sleeve.

  Something touched his leg, and he jumped back a scream peeling from his throat. The girl had she grabbed him?

  Nick looked down into the smiling face of a Golden Retriever, and a manic laugh bubbled out of him. It was just a bloody dog. “Hey dog,” he said and looked around. Stood on the edge of the trees was a little old woman. She was wearing a long coat and a wooly hat, and her face was frozen in shock.

  Nick smiled and then realized that he was covered in either blood or mud, and his hair was probably stuck on end. He was wearing a black running top and tights, so he probably looked to her like some form of ninja assassin, and he had been kneeling over a dead woman. “I err, I just found her,” he said as he started to walk toward the woman. “Look, this is not what you think.” He pulled out his phone and waved it at her. “Look, I’m gonna call the police. Let them come out here and sort all this out.”

  “Jinty,” the woman shouted. “Jinty, come here.” She was backing away from him.

  The Goldie gave him a mournful look and trotted off after his mistress.

  “Way to go, Nick, cover yourself in the woman’s blood and then terrify some old lady.” He dialed and waited.

  “Emergency, which service, please?”

  “Err Police and maybe an ambulance or a morgue wagon or… Damn it, I’m in the woods behind the supermarket, and I’ve stumbled across a dead woman.”

  “Officers are on the way, sir. Now I just need to ask a few more questions.”

  In a daze, Nick confirmed that the girl was dead, even though the operator wanted to talk him through CPR.

  “She’s dead. Trust me, she’s dead,” Nick said. Then he guided the police to him as he tried to keep his eyes off the woman lying on the ground.

  Chapter Four

  Nick folded his arms and leaned back in the cheap plastic chair. Why were these idiots treating him like a suspect?

  Detective Inspector Merlin looked across at Police Constable Strike and raised his thick eyebrows. “There’s no need to give us attitude, sir. You see, we have a recording of you saying.” He paused and made an exaggerated gesture of checking his notes. “She’s dead, trust me she’s dead. Now, why did you say that?”

  Fear replaced the cold, slimy horror that had settled in Nick’s gut. It made it hard to think, and he knew that he must pull himself together here. Whatever he told them would stick, so it had better be good. Thoughts of explaining how he had done a first-responders course, came to mind, but all that came out was, “Did you see her?”

  “Yes, quite,” Merlin said. “Now, if you could just explain one more time what you were doing in the woods.”

  “Like I told you,” Nick said. He stood and waved his hands down his body, emphasizing the running gear and pointing at the dirty trainers. “I was out running. I run that route most days. I came around the corner and saw the…” A wave of nausea came over him, and he had to grab onto his stomach and bite down hard to prevent himself from vomiting all over the interview room. “I saw the body and I… I…” He sat back down, it was impossibl
e to explain to them what had happened. He had been over it so many times, yet they just wouldn’t listen.

  “Yes, you said you set off from home around seven-thirty in the morning. Yet you didn’t call us until five past nine. Looking at the map, you were only half a mile from your home. So, either you’re a very slow runner, or you were up to something else before you called us. Now maybe you can see why I’m feeling a little suspicious.”

  Nick watched as the man licked his thin lips and ran a hand through brown hair cut into a short military style that was receding on both sides of his forehead. Nick could not take his eyes off him. Yet he knew he had to concentrate to bring his mind back to the problem, but he could not focus. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the bloody empty sockets of the blonde woman, her hair combed out behind her, as those empty eyes accused him.

  “I’m waiting for an answer,” Merlin said.

  Nick scoured his mind. He remembered setting off for a run, his mind full of his own problems, what had happened. Closing his eyes, he imagined the track. He turned the corner and saw the body. A feeling of nausea came over him, and he remembered. “Oh, God, I think I fainted. Look at me. I’m covered in mud. When I woke up, I crawled to the woman, and I checked her pulse. I felt something and looked down, terrified that she was grabbing onto me. It was a dog. Some damn dog was sniffing my legs. There was a woman, an old woman. I’ve seen her before, but I’m not sure where she lives. Now come on, you have to believe me that’s exactly what happened.”

  “So you fainted,” Merlin said, his eyebrow raised and a look of disdain on his face.

  A knock on the door heralded a uniformed PC. He entered the room and walked across to Merlin. They bumped heads and whispered, and the PC handed something to Merlin before leaving. “Well, Mr. Bellamy, can you account for your movements between three and five this morning?”

  Nick could feel the man’s eyes boring into him, and he wondered did he have an alibi. “I was at home with my wife.” God, he just hoped that she would back him up. Having woken on the couch, he wondered if she could even vouch for him, and then there were the muddy trainers. How had he ended up on the couch with filthy trainers? He never left them in that condition, he would always clean them up and leave them in the mudroom, Sadie would go wild if she saw the carpet.

  “Do you have a number for your wife, so we can check on your alibi?”

  The bottom dropped out of Nick’s world, he had no choice, he reached for his mobile and showed them her number.

  Detective Inspector Merlin pulled out his own phone, and with a superior look at Nick, he dialed.

  Nick held his breath, maybe she wouldn’t answer, maybe she would be in the lab, would that be better or worse?

  “Mrs. Bellamy, this is Detective Inspector Merlin from Donborough police department. I have your husband with us answering a few questions. I wondered if you could let me know his whereabouts on a couple of occasions… Yes, yes… Now, where was I? Yes, could you tell me if he was with you between three and five this morning?”

  Nick watched the other man’s face as he listened to his wife. There was no emotion, and he could not read what she was saying. The mood she had been in last night, who knows whether she would help out at all?

  “I understand,” Merlin said. “Now what about the 23rd of last month between five and nine in the evening… Really… And you have witnesses… Yes, I will be checking into that. Thank you for your time.” The DI hung up his phone and pulled his deep brown eyes around and stared directly at Nick.

  Nick felt those eyes burning a hole into his head. It felt as if they were boring through him, seeing all of his hopes and fears. With a dry mouth, he tried to ask what was going on, but the words would not come out.

  The DI closed his file and stood up.

  “Well, Mr. Bellamy, it looks like your alibi checks out for now. We want to thank you for your time and ask you not to leave the area without informing us first. Now you’re free to go.”

  ***

  Nick stumbled out of the police station and into the cold, dull day. It suited his mood. They had let him go, but Nick was sure that he was still a suspect. They would be watching him, and if no evidence was found, would he be called in again for questioning. With a resigned sigh, he dialed Sadie. They had to talk. At the very least, he should thank her. As he waited, he wondered if that was the right move. Why should he thank her if he were innocent? The call went through and rang once, twice, and then went to voicemail. Had she just rejected his call? Anger replaced the cold, sick feeling in his gut, and he placed another call, this one to work.

  Nick sat in his office and kept his head down, but it appeared he had become quite a celebrity. Rumor had soon spread about his morning, and everyone wanted to come and relive the adventure. Every time he had to speak of the dead girl, acid boiled in his stomach and threatened to rush up his throat and redecorate his desk. The afternoon dragged. Eventually, he stuck a sign outside, ‘Busy Need Quiet,’ and closed his door. That stopped the steady stream of verbal looky-loos and allowed him to still his mind by concentrating on the quarter's accounts.

  The office was quiet, and Nick looked up. Everyone had gone home, the lights were off, and the building looked empty, a check of his watch told him it was seven and he was late. How had he become so involved? Never mind he should rush home, Sadie would be waiting, and the last thing he needed to do was get her angry… again.

  Nick stood and felt dizzy. Slumping back into his chair, he took big deep breaths and then tried again. The room wobbled but not as bad as last time. What was wrong with him? Earlier, he had fainted, he had no idea how he got to sleep on the couch, or why he was wearing his trainers, and now he was finding it hard to stand up. A groan from his stomach reminded him that he had not eaten today. Well, that accounted for today, of course seeing a dead… brutally murdered body accounted for this morning. But if he was honest, he had been losing time for a couple of weeks now. His run had become more difficult, and he often got stomach pains and headaches. Maybe he should get a checkup?

  Somehow he got into the car and drove the Ford home all the time wondering how Sadie would be and what she would say about this morning. Come to think of it what had happened last night?

  The lights were on, but the warming glow filled him with dread, and he sat in the car a moment longer, building up the courage to enter. There had been a time when coming home was filled with joy, now it was often faced with a sense of trepidation. Opening the car door, he attempted to stand, but his knees gave way, and a wave of nausea flowed over him. Sitting back down, he closed his eyes and relaxed. He would just take a moment, then he would be able to go inside, and he had to talk to Sadie about something, something important. The problem was, he couldn’t remember what it was.

  Chapter Five

  Nick woke, his neck stiff, his body cold, and his stomach churned with both hunger and a greasy sickness that threatened to flood his throat with bile. What was he doing sleeping in his car? Had he fallen out with Sadie? It was possible, they had something to discuss, had they talked about it? What was it? The problem was, no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t remember. It was important, and it mattered to him, yet he couldn’t remember if they had talked about it. If there had been a fight surely, he would have a memory of that.

  The house still glowed with warm, welcoming light, yet when he thought about going in, his stomach heaved and threatened to erupt. What time was it? A quick look at his watch told him it was nine. What had he been doing? He left the office around seven; it was a twenty-minute ride home. That meant he had been asleep in his car for over an hour and a half. What on earth was going on?

  Nick opened the door and swung his legs out. Slowly he tested with his weight, they held, and he felt fine. Now he had to face the music. The door was locked, so he found his key and entered. The hallway was dark, but he could hear the television. Trepidation stroked down his spine as he pushed open the door to the lounge.

  The lighting was m
uted, the television was playing twenty-four-hour news, and an image of the wood almost dropped him to his knees. Sadie lay on the sofa, wearing a short, flimsy negligee. Her face wore a salacious grin as she beckoned him forward.

  Nick moved to the easy chair opposite her and slumped down.

  “Well, lover, you up for some fun?” she asked.

  Nick could not peel his eyes off the television. The girl was a Jane Doe and the thought that nobody knew she was missing, that nobody missed her filled him with a cold sadness that shrank his heart and withered his spine. They put up a composite of her face and asked for anyone who knew her to get in contact. Nick felt tears coursing down his face. She was only twenty-two years old. So young to be dead.

  “Hey, babe, are you alright?” Sadie asked as she crossed the room.

  Nick wanted her dressed, wanted her to keep her distance, wanted to shout and scream at her that no, he wasn’t alright, but instead, he just shrugged.

  Like a cat, she rose and stalked over to him. Sitting on the arm of the chair. He could feel the warmth of her skin through his trousers. An arm came around his shoulder, and she pulled him to her.

  “What happened today?” she asked, she sounded genuinely concerned.

  Tears flooded out of Nick’s eyes, dribbled down his face and fell into his lap. The words came after. How he’d woken on the sofa, how he went for his run and how he had found a poor young girl brutally murdered and tied down in the dirt. He was blubbing as he told her of Detective Inspector Merlin and having to ask for an alibi. She hugged him close and rocked him while he cried, and slowly, the pain diminished, and life came back into focus.

  “Why didn’t you answer my call?” he asked.

  “When Sweetie?”

  “After I left the police station, I don’t know what time it was. I needed to talk, and you rejected my call damn it.”