Under The Woods: a heart-stopping police thriller (The Forensic Files Book 4)

by K. A. Richardson

  It was getting so the only time he ever felt in control was when he was with the horses. She didn’t understand, his aunt. She thought he was just a normal kid – that he’d moved on from all the stuff with his dad. He’d had counselling; he knew he wasn’t his father, that his father’s actions didn’t define his own.

  But he didn’t feel normal. The kids at school said hateful things – awful things that cut deep into his heart. They said he’d grow up to be just like his dad, said he’d probably already killed people and had them buried in the basement. They said his mother was a ‘spacker’ – none of them knew the truth. His mother was amazing and so brave. She’d managed to alert staff, even as his dad tried to kill her. His life was fucked up. It was never going to be normal.

  The only place he ever felt even remotely at peace was when he was at the stables.

  TJ didn’t judge him – she wasn’t horrible to him, even though his dad had hurt her really badly. She didn’t believe he was like his dad – he knew that. And the horses didn’t judge him – they trusted him without question. TJ wouldn’t mind him being at the stables.

  I hope not, anyway. She’ll understand.

  He’d had the text from TJ the other day telling him not to come in – that he wasn’t needed until after Christmas. And she might not need his help – but he needed hers. So, he’d ignored the text. He had almost given up and turned around when he got no reply at the house, but then, he figured she was probably mucking out or grooming.

  And she really wouldn’t mind him being there.

  Matthew drew in a deep breath. The smell of manure and hay drifted on the wind, and he could hear the horses neighing to each other. Then something else – like a camp fire or something.

  He paused at the first block of stables – pulling some mints out of his pocket and feeding each horse one as he went past. The door to the tack room door was ajar as he reached it, and he remembered that there were heavy coats in there. It was freezing, and his Adidas hoody did little to keep the cold out. TJ wouldn’t mind if he borrowed a coat.

  Matthew yawned – he’d been up all night. Sleep often eluded him now – when he did fall asleep, he had nightmares and woke up with a jump. He’d stopped shouting for his aunt now – she was doing her best, but she didn’t get it. She couldn’t quite understand why he still felt the way he did, despite the counselling.

  He didn’t really expect her to, when he thought about it – how could she understand something he didn’t understand himself?

  I’ll rest for a bit – it’s really cold. A quick five minutes under the horse rugs, then I’ll go and find TJ. She won’t mind. I know she won’t.

  He crawled under two of the rugs in the corner and pulled the third up over his head. It was cosy, and his cold body warmed quickly. He realised that being cocooned made him feel safer than he had in a long time. He inhaled deeply, the scent of leather from the tack still present under the weight of the coats. Mere seconds after acknowledging that to himself, Matthew fell asleep. And this time, no nightmares came to plague him.

  * * *

  17th December, 2145 hours – abandoned school near Durham

  Sally had been waiting all day for him to come back – she’d checked her watch a hundred times and froze every time the slightest noise was heard. But he didn’t show.

  Whatever he had planned for her today hadn’t come to pass. She felt relieved. She wasn’t up to doing a lot of anything today – her pain was really bad, and even when she didn’t move at all, her face still throbbed constantly.

  She’d drank the last of the water from the bottle hours ago, and now, her lips were dry and chapped – she couldn’t stop herself licking them in an attempt to keep them moist, but it had resulted in them getting even drier.

  The metal shard was warm now, nestled between her breasts. It was her hope – it had ignited the fire in her belly that screamed she would get out of this alive. All she’d thought about all day was using it on him and getting out of this godawful room. With everything dark, it seemed even more ominous and unforgiving. She had no idea where she was – or what the building used to be. She didn’t care, either. It was claustrophobic – she’d never really been bothered by tight spaces or darkness, but she knew when she left here, she’d be terrified of both.

  Sally had seen what lurked in the shadows – and the monster was not nice.

  Somewhere in the building, a loud clunk sounded, and the furnace shut down without warning. The dim glow faded, and the room returned to pitch black.

  Sally’s breathing sped up – if she wasn’t careful, she’d start hyperventilating. And the last thing she needed right now was a panic attack. She needed to be prepared for if he came back in the room. Even the red light had gone from the camera in the corner.

  Which means he’s not watching. Why would he turn the cameras off?

  Realisation was a little slow in dawning, but eventually, she realised it wasn’t just the furnace that had gone off.

  The electricity had.

  Which meant the doors he was controlling might just open.

  She pulled herself to her feet, wincing as she bore weight on her bad foot – she felt warm liquid seep through the bandage but ignored it and felt her way along the wall in the direction she knew the door was in.

  Feeling the handle beneath her outstretched fingers, she prayed quietly – soft whispers that were barely audible to her, let alone anyone else, and pulled the door-handle down. With a loud clang that made Sally jump, the door swung open.

  Without knowing where she was, or if he was present, Sally had to take it easy, feeling her way along the wall and trying not to stumble.

  She reached another door which also opened easily.

  Suddenly, she could just about make out shapes, it was lighter here.

  It spurred her on and she picked up the pace, heading towards the slightly lighter end of the corridor.

  There was a loud thud as she walked into something solid – her nose started bleeding, and she instinctively put her hands to her face, then wondered what she’d hit. Putting her hands out carefully she realised it was a glass pane, set in one door. She felt two handles in the middle – double doors.

  Sally took a deep breath and pushed and the door opened with a soft creak.

  It’s stars! And the moon!

  She could see the outline of another door – a door she knew would lead her to the outside world. Once she was outside, she’d find out where she was. Somehow.

  Turning the handle, Sally pushed hard, almost surprised when it swung open silently.

  The cold air hit her lungs as she drew in breath, and she couldn’t stop herself coughing. Rough stones under her feet caused her to stumble, and she dropped forward, skinning her knees.

  Get up! Run, you fucking idiot, RUN!

  She ran as fast as she could towards a tree line visible in the moonlight. Trees would provide cover. Until she was much further away she wouldn’t stop – what if he came back?

  Never mind that – what if he’s already behind you?

  The thought spurred her on, and she managed to blank out the pain.

  She’d been running for about ten minutes when she finally slowed down, her chest felt like it was in a vice, and she was panting heavily. Stars danced in front of her eyes, and she shook her head trying to get rid of them.

  Even in the bright moonlight, Sally didn’t see the tree root in front of her. Her foot caught, and she toppled forward, her arm hitting another root. A loud crack echoed in the trees, and Sally lay stunned for a moment, her breath taken away by the impact.

  Gingerly, she put her arms up to push herself into a sitting position, and white-hot pain spread up her arm. Gasping, she looked down – the bone in her lower arm had shattered and was poking out through her skin. It was enough to make her heave.

  Sally gritted her teeth and hugged her injured arm to her chest. It was awkward getting up, but she managed it and started moving again, more slowly this time.

&nb
sp; Somewhere in the distance ahead, she could see lights.

  Head that way. Lights mean people. Please God, let there be someone there who can help me.

  17

  17th December, 2220 hours – Rainbow Riding Stables

  He crept round the stable block making sure everyone had left – TJ had pulled the curtains closed at the house – that always meant she was locked in and secure for the night – so he knew she wasn’t there.

  He was alone.

  It was time to get the job done. First, though, he needed to strap his ribs. The less pain the better when he was lugging bodies. Once inside, he put the lamp on and unbuttoned his shirt. The tape was used on horses’ legs when they had swelling, but it would do perfectly for his ribs.

  It took some doing, but eventually, he had it wrapped tightly. He pulled his shirt back on and buttoned it, grabbed his coat and left.

  * * *

  17th December, 2230 hours – Rainbow Riding Stables

  Matthew had seen Barry enter the tack room – he didn’t speak or show himself because he didn’t trust either of the men that worked at the stables. After his dad, he didn’t trust any man. He’d stopped himself gasping as he saw the bruises covering the man’s chest and the scabbed scratches down his face.

  What’s he doing here, though? It must be late. He hadn’t checked his phone for fear the light would be seen. He’d have to, though. If only to tell his aunt where he was. She’d be worried sick. Not for the first time, he felt guilty for leaving like he had and not letting her know where he had gone. He’d just left a note saying he was staying with a friend. Which he kind of was – the horses were his friends.

  He waited until Barry left, then gave it a couple of minutes before crawling out from under the rugs. Deeming it safe, he took his phone out of sleep mode and checked the time. Fuck, it’s after ten! I slept for hours. Aunt Carolyn is going to kill me!

  He noticed the numerous messages and voicemails from her – he’d check them properly later. And use his pocket money to get her some flowers. He doubted it would stop her grounding him, but he had to give it a go.

  Matthew put the phone back in the pocket of his jeans and pulled his hoody tighter around him, pulling the zip up to his neck and putting his hood up. What is Barry doing here at nearly half ten at night?

  The tack room door opened without a squeak – and Matthew crept out into the yard.

  For a moment, the silence baffled him – but then, he realised it was snowing. Even the horses relaxed when it snowed. It had already lain – a thin blanket of white covering everything but Barry’s footprints leading away from the tack room.

  If he comes back and sees my prints, he’ll know I was here, too. I’ll need to step in his exactly.

  Matthew was clever. He had his mother’s brains. She’d always been so bright before the accident. Even now, her eyes lit up when he told her how well he’d done at school. Though that had been much less of late – he struggled being in lessons with the idiots who were awful to him.

  His mum had improved a little since his father had died, but she still lived in the care home. He visited her almost every day now – had done since it happened. Because he needed her – even though she couldn’t speak and couldn’t move, really, he needed her with him. And she understood that. His aunt never complained when he was visiting his mum. He wished she didn’t live there and that he could look after her. But she didn’t want that. She wanted him to live his life and not be tied to looking after her. So his aunt Carolyn had told him, anyway.

  He took slow and steady steps, taking great care to put his feet only in the tracks left by Barry – a trained observer would notice the different treads overlapping, but he doubted Barry would be observing.

  He reached the side of the burnt stable block and had to stop himself gasping when he saw it. Where are the horses? Where’s Domino? Domino had been his favourite since he’d started the programme with them. What if she’d been hurt in the fire? And her foal – was Lightning okay?

  Matthew wanted to retrace his steps and find out about the horses, but he resisted. Barry was up to something, and judging by how he was skulking about, it wasn’t going to be anything good.

  Grunting came from behind the stable, and risking being seen, Matthew poked his head round the corner. His eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open to a wide ‘O’.

  Barry had started digging at the trench at the back, and a human hand had flopped over the top of the small hole he’d dug.

  Matthew stuffed his fist in his mouth to stop himself crying out. What the hell do I do? He’s going to see me. And he’ll put me in that hole with that person! Panic took over, and Matthew turned to run. Fuck the footprints, I need to get out of here. I’ll tell someone. But who? And why would they believe me, anyway?

  He moved his hand from his mouth, and his eyes darted about in utter panic. What could he do?

  Think! Think!

  He took a deep breath and then turned back around and retraced his steps back to the tack room.

  Once inside, he couldn’t stop the panic setting in. His face turned pink as he hyperventilated. What the hell did he do now? That was a human fricking hand! Matthew’s heart was thudding in his chest so hard, he thought it would burst out.

  He’d always wondered how he would react if he saw a dead body. But he’d thought he’d be all cool and play it down – like it was something he saw every day. Fat chance, idiot! That was a fricking dead body attached to the hand! That Barry probably killed! And he’ll do the same to you, if he knows you saw. Go the fuck home, pretend you didn’t see anything.

  ‘But I did see it – and if I don’t say something, then he’ll get away with it. That’s just not right.’

  Maybe not but it’s the sensible thing to do. Who else would believe you, anyway?

  ‘The detective who dealt with my dad would – he said to call him if I never needed anything.’

  As if he meant it! He probably says it to every kid whose dad’s a psychopathic killer.

  Matthew finally acknowledged that arguing with himself wouldn’t get him very far.

  You need a plan – go home, ring the detective from there. He doesn’t need to know who you are. Climb out of the window at the back and run!

  Now that made sense to him. Matthew fiddled with the latch on the window at the back of the tack room and almost fell out of the window in his eagerness to get away. He avoided the path that led to the farmhouse, not wanting to leave shoeprints in plain view. And didn’t stop running ’til he was on the main road. It was an hour’s walk to his aunt’s – she’d moved to Sherburn after he’d moved in with her, believing Sunderland would be a bad place for him to stay. It wasn’t awful in Sherburn but he still kinda wished he lived in his old house.

  Matthew walked in the tree line in case anyone came past in a car, and strode methodically through the snow. It was a good job he knew the way – the snowfall was getting heavier.

  Hopefully, it would continue, and Barry wouldn’t be able to move the body from behind the stable. He could live in hope, anyway.

  * * *

  17th December, 2325 hours – Blankerton Woods, near Durham

  Sally felt like she’d been running for hours – her feet were raw and bleeding – the deep cut to her foot from the metal had opened, and she could feel blood squelching as she ran. Her lungs were burning, and she was struggling to catch her breath. Pain spread up her arm and into her chest, and her face pulsed with every step.

  She’d have happily fallen to the ground and not got back up ages ago but for the two thoughts spurring her on. The first was that if she stopped, he would catch her for sure. She had no idea if he was behind her, but she was terrified that he was. The second was Danial – she needed to escape so he had a mother to come home to. That sliver of hope that had started back in the room had grown and burst into a feeling that verged on relief and expectation.

  If she could just make it to the lights ahead, she’d be okay – she just knew
it. The trouble was the lights seemed not to be getting any closer. They weren’t further away, but it was deceptive in the dark – what looked like a beacon seemed to move with every step she took.

  She had no way of knowing she’d only run a few miles – it felt like so many more. Her left foot landed hard on a rock, and she yelped in pain, having to pause for a minute and hold her foot. A hysterical giggle escaped her mouth. Why do people do that? Grab it ’cos it hurts. If you grab it, it hurts more!

  Sally saw a flash of light ahead that was so fast, her brain tried to tell her it was an illusion. It couldn’t possibly be real because she wanted it to be. Hushed voices carried on the wind towards her.

  She froze, not making a sound.

  What if it’s him? There wouldn’t be many people out at this time of night, would there? She huddled down, making herself as small as she could. Whoever she could hear, they didn’t sound like nice people from the snippets of conversation she could hear. Hearing the word “rifle” just cemented that thought even more. She barely even breathed until the voices faded off into the distance.

  Gingerly, Sally got to her feet and wished instantly that she hadn’t stopped. Every step felt like she was standing on a mixture of hot coals and sharp needles. The lights ahead had dimmed, but she could still see them. The only way she could go was forward.

  So, she put one foot in front of the other and started walking.

  * * *

  17th December, 2340 hours – woods near Rainbow Riding Stables

  The snow was still falling – thick white flakes that were making it harder for Barry to work. He’d managed to get one body out of the trench and into the wheelbarrow – he was parked in his usual night-time spot about half a mile from the stables, but it was tough going with the snow impeding his movement, not to mention his ribs crunching every time he moved.