The Girl in the Grave: An unputdownable crime thriller with nail-biting suspense

by Helen Phifer

  ‘I don’t for one minute think you’re not awake, so quit with the acting.’

  She opened her eyes, glaring at him.

  ‘That’s better. I have a nice little surprise for you. I’m taking you home.’

  Despite the pep talk she’d given herself, her blood turned to ice water. She turned her head slightly and saw they were anchored not too far from the shore near to her beautiful house. Her sanctuary. There was one thing, she thought, if this all went wrong she’d much rather die at home than buried underneath someone else’s coffin in the freezing, cold ground.

  She jumped as he began to untie her feet.

  ‘Did you know we have a mutual acquaintance?’

  She stared at him, not wanting to engage with this sick monster, but needing to know why she was here.

  ‘I went to visit him yesterday. He’s not very well, you know, but he sends his love and he said to ask you why you never answered his letters? I’m a dangerous person, by the way. You should have kept your distance from me. You would have if you’d known what was running through my head.’

  Fear filled her veins at the thought of him and Robert together, discussing her in a prison visiting room. But why? What had she ever done to either of them to deserve this? To have drawn the attention of two men who wanted her dead.

  ‘Go fuck yourself,’ she whispered.

  He began to laugh. ‘I like how feisty you can be, Beth, I’ve always admired that about you. Despite being scared of your own shadow, underneath it all there’s a lioness waiting to be set free. I’ll miss our little grapples on the mat. I failed that night. You were too loud and that was our downfall. Yet you came back for more. Do you have any idea how the excitement of straddling you on that mat each week made me feel? It was almost as good as the first time I straddled you. Robert was watching from the kitchen, but he panicked and tried to shut you up. He should have cut his losses and run away like I did. How many times have I told you there is no shame in running when it comes to self-preservation? More times than I care to remember, but you never listened and here we are all over again. Do you ever get the feeling of déjà vu? You said yourself at the trial you didn’t recognise the man who walked into your house that night. Why would you? Before then you’d barely given me a second glance, too busy with your perfect little life to notice me. I wasn’t a fancy doctor. I didn’t fit in with your social circle despite Robert trying his best to integrate me. Now, don’t go getting any funny ideas.’

  Pain ripped through her chest as the horror and realisation that the only man she’d trusted since that night was the man who had been there all along. It was Phil who had attacked her. Not Robert. Though Robert had been there. Had planned it with him. How had she never figured this out? Or had she known deep down inside all along, buried it in her memory, unable to add a stranger into her personal nightmares? Was that where her fear of new people came from? Her whole body felt as if it was shrinking inside of itself and she didn’t know how much more of this her mind could take. Unable to speak, she nodded.

  Before she could react he grabbed her and threw her into the icy depths of the lake. She felt herself begin to sink as her entire body constricted with the shock as the coldness enveloped her. Then there was a loud splash as he jumped in after her. His strong hands grabbed her, dragging her head above the water. He was much taller than she was, able to stand up in the water that was up to his shoulders.

  Grabbing her by the hair, she felt excruciating pain as he dragged her towards the shore. Then they were out of the water and she was lying on the pebbly shore shivering, soaked to the bone, her scalp on fire.

  Still she didn’t try and wriggle out of the loosened ropes on her wrists because she knew she had to wait until there was a chance she could make it.

  Seventy-Nine

  Josh stared into the last crypt. It was empty. Well, apart from the official occupants sealed into two stone tombs. Barry and the two officers who had turned up from Barrow were dripping with sweat after using a crowbar to loosen the lids and push them to one side to expose the skeletal remains. They’d done that in every single crypt and found nothing else; Beth wasn’t anywhere in sight.

  Where are you, Beth, where has he taken you? He thought back to that night in 2012, when he’d saved her life from a maniac attempting to kill her. How could this possibly be happening again? And, to make matters worse, Robert knew the killer, was prepared to give him up to save Beth. Robert had said the killer wanted to finish what Robert started. What did he mean? Did he intend to keep her captive? Where would kill her? Josh felt as if his head was filled with a thick fog, but that the answer was hiding somewhere deep inside.

  Josh remembered breaking down the door of Beth’s old home, crashing through just in time to stop Robert from killing her in her own kitchen.

  And there it was, clear as day.

  But her house – her new lakeside house – had been searched, CSI had been in and done another sweep of it. There was even a police guard watching the gate. Had they missed something, had they overlooked it? How could someone hide Beth near her own house without getting caught? Then it struck him, and his hands were dialling Sam’s number before he even had time to process his thoughts. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘At the station picking up the DCI to come and take a look at your crime scene. Well done on the find, by the way.’

  ‘She’s dead. We failed her.’

  ‘You found her, Josh. As sad as it is, at least her family will be able to bury her, grieve for her and eventually get some closure.’

  ‘I need to know who’s at Beth’s house right now?’

  ‘Claire left a while ago. There was an officer outside guarding the entrance, but an IR came in for an RTC and they were the nearest patrol, so at this moment… technically no one. But the gates are locked, so no one can get in.’

  ‘I think we missed him. I think this Phil Sullivan who has Beth is going to take her back home. He must be close by. He has to be.’

  ‘But we searched everywhere.’

  ‘Not everywhere. He could be out on the lake. On a boat. He’d have a good view of the house from there, watching us search the house with a huge grin on his face, thinking how clever he is, how he’s outsmarted us all. I’m on my way back right now. Can you see if you can find anyone to back me up?’

  ‘Every available South Lakes and Barrow patrol is on their way up here to you, Josh. I’m probably the closest, I’m on my way. I’ll bring the two PCs from Barrow. Between the four of us we might be able to take him down.’

  He ended the call. It would take Sam at least twenty minutes to get there. It would take him ten minutes. He just hoped he wasn’t too late, because he’d never live with himself if anything happened to Beth. The guilt over Annie Potts would haunt him for the rest of his life, he knew that; Chantel Price had been dead weeks before he even knew about her, but it still weighed heavy on his mind.

  But there would be no more bodies to add to his list. Not today.

  Not Beth.

  Eighty

  He dragged her to her feet, pulling her along by her hair until they reached the patio doors. For a second, she hoped they were locked. When the door handle didn’t turn it gave her the incentive she needed. Whilst Phil was busy trying to get it open, she slipped the sodden rope from around her wrists, keeping them behind her back so he couldn’t see. There wasn’t anything within reach she could use as a weapon; the only thing she had was the rope and her arms. She knew how hard it was to strangle someone as strong as Phil, but if she could render him unconscious, she might be able to make a break for it. Coiling the length of rope around both hands she decided against it: she would have more power using her arm as a weapon. So she dropped the rope to the ground. Taking a running jump, she lunged at his back, jumping up and wrapping her arms around his neck. She squeezed as hard as she could.

  ‘You fucking—’ was all he managed before she cut off his air supply. He was trying to throw her off, thrashing from side to side,
but she kept tight hold just like he’d taught her to in class, pressing even harder, blocking his airway.

  He fell to his knees gasping but still she didn’t let go. Until he lurched forward, throwing her over the top of his head. She smacked into the glass doors with force and let out a groan. Phil’s face was purple with the lack of oxygen, and the fury etched across it terrified her, propelling her to move. She just managed to push herself out of his reach by centimetres as he lunged for her. Then she ran for the log pile she kept around the opposite side of the house.

  She heard him stumbling after her, laughing. Then shouted, ‘Oh, you little star. I taught you well. How proud I feel right now. My pupil has outsmarted me. I can hand on my heart say that I’m impressed. Then again, I’ve always known how special you are. To men like me and Robert you pose the greatest of thrills.’

  She pushed herself even faster, her lungs burning. Reaching the pile of wood, she picked up a heavy log, turned and swung it as hard as she could. Phil, his head bent forward as he ran at her, was blindsided as the wood made contact with his head in a sickening thud. She knew she had done some damage. For the second time he fell to his knees; this time she stepped forward and hit him again. He collapsed to the floor in a heap, blood seeping from the gash in his head.

  Without looking back, she ran towards the gates, typing in the code with fingers slippery with both their blood. When the gap was wide enough she squeezed through it.

  And ran straight into Josh.

  ‘Oh, my God, Beth. You’re hurt?’

  He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, and she felt herself sink into the warmth of his body. Her teeth were chattering.

  ‘He’s in there, I’ve hurt him, Josh. I think I might have killed him.’

  ‘Good.’

  Sirens got louder as a police van rounded the bend towards them. Three officers jumped out. Josh directed them inside. They ran with tasers and batons drawn into Beth’s garden ready to do battle, as Josh ushered her into the back of the van to get her into the warmth and keep her safe. She’d seen enough. She didn’t need to witness any more.

  She didn’t speak, words wouldn’t come but she held on tight to Josh’s hand.

  He took his jacket off, wrapping it around her. Another car pulled up and Josh was relieved to see Sam arriving to back him up. Josh waved her over to the van and she stepped inside to take over so he could go and detain Phil.

  Beth watched as he walked through the gates and prayed that he would be okay.

  But the killer was out cold on the floor and despite everything that had happened to her, she’d never felt more alive.

  Eighty-One

  Two Weeks Later

  Beth tugged off the gloves and plastic apron she was wearing over the top of her scrubs; next she stripped off the scrubs and stepped under the lukewarm shower spray. Her head still smarted a little where the scalp had been grazed, and she had a couple of bald spots where her hair had been ripped out. But to be honest she didn’t care. All of her injuries had been superficial, nothing lasting, nothing permanent. Her wrists had scabbed up and almost healed. She was here to tell the tale and she’d never felt so thankful in all of her life. She’d come back to work to focus on something, driven crazy by wandering around the house feeling lost. It was different this time though: this time she had fought back herself, and won.

  Phil had suffered a fractured skull, some internal bleeding and concussion but he was still alive. More importantly he was locked up. He’d never see the light of day again, she hoped; he’d killed two women that they knew about and he’d tried to kill her. She was the lucky one: Chantel and Annie hadn’t had the chance to fight back. She had and was back at work living and breathing for them both. She owed it to them to live the life she still had.

  She stared at the pile of cream envelopes on her desk.

  Drying herself off, she dressed in the white linen trouser suit she’d spent a small fortune on. She normally wore it to court, but this was equally as important. Using the hairdryer, she blasted her hair, running the straighteners over it to smooth it down then applying some make-up to try and cover the fading yellow bruises. She smiled at the woman staring back at her in the mirror. She liked what she saw, battle scars and all. Slipping on some shoes, she gave herself one last look in the mirror. It was time.

  Outside she saw Josh’s car double-parked with the engine running. She crossed the busy car park and opened the door.

  He smiled at her as she climbed inside. ‘Are you sure about this?’

  ‘I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Thank you for picking me up.’

  He reached over and brushed his lips across her cheek. ‘I couldn’t wait. I’ve been thinking about you all day. How was work?’

  ‘Good, just a run-of-the-mill day. A couple of sudden deaths, no suspicious circumstances. It felt good to be back. How was yours?’

  He laughed. ‘It was okay, just a run-of-the-mill kind of day. But you know what, I’ll take those any day from now on.’

  He drove for the next forty minutes and they chatted about what to eat for dinner, the headlines in the newspapers and whose turn it was to choose which show to watch on Netflix. Beth smiled to herself;

  she didn’t think that she would ever tire of living a normal life. It was wonderful, especially when she was sharing it with Josh.

  They arrived at the prison car park, and he stopped the car. ‘I don’t mind coming inside with you.’

  She shook her head. ‘I know you don’t, but I need to do this. I need to tell him it’s over: the mind games are over, and he no longer has any control over my life. I don’t want him to know that you’re a part of my life. I don’t want him to know anything about me.’

  She got out of the car, leant down and pulled the stack of envelopes from her handbag. She was returning them unopened to sender.

  Desperate for another nail-biting rollercoaster ride after hearing Beth’s story? Grab Dark House now for another unputdownable serial killer thriller that will keep you up all night.

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  Dark House

  An absolutely gripping serial-killer thriller (Detective Lucy Harwin crime thriller series Book 1)

  Lizzy pulled the covers over her head. Then she realised what was being dragged behind the person with the torch. She rammed her fist into her mouth to stop herself from screaming…

  * * *

  After a previous case ended in a tragic double murder, Detective Lucy Harwin, has been on enforced absence from the force. But when the body of an elderly man is discovered in an abandoned hospital, she is plunged straight back into a case that will test her to breaking point.

  * * *

  For decades, The Moore housed the forgotten children of Northern coastal town, Brooklyn Bay. But ever since a scandal forced its closure, the abandoned building has been left untouched.

  * * *

  Together with her partner, Detective Mattie Jackson, Lucy begins to unearth its terrible history, and soon finds herself on the trail of a killer ruthlessly fixated on avenging the crimes of the past.

  * * *

  As Lucy begins to close in on the killer, a woman is found murdered on her own doorstep. With the attacks escalating, and those closest to her now a target, can Lucy protect them and herself before it’s too late?

  * * *

  An absolutely terrifying and gripping thriller that will chill readers of MJ Arlidge, Angela Marsons and Rachel Abbott to the bone.

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  A Letter from Helen

  Thank you for reading this book. It’s always a little bit scary writing a new series, but I hope you enjoyed b
eing a part of Beth Adams’s life for a short time. If you’d like to be kept up date with news about future books you can sign up for my newsletter here.

  I say every book was a tough one to write, but this book shall forever be known to me as the book that almost broke me. It just shows that no matter how many books you write it’s always a learning curve.

  I’m not a forensic pathologist although my ten-year-old self wanted to be one thanks to watching episodes of Quincy every week. If you are please forgive any inconsistencies. I’ve tried my best to research and make the forensic procedures as true to life as possible. But at the end of the day it is a story and there may be some instances I’ve used my creative licence to bend the truth for the sake of the plot.

  As always a huge thank you to my amazing readers for buying this book. Your support is truly appreciated. If you did enjoy it I’d be eternally grateful if you could leave a quick review. They make such a huge difference and are a fabulous way to let other readers know about my books.

  If you’d like to be kept up date with my news you can sign up for my newsletter here.

  Love always

  Helen xx

  www.helenphifer.com