by Willow Rose
“Send my greetings to Father Allen when you meet him in HELL!”
Just as Bradan yelled the last word, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to do something. No matter what. So I rose to my feet and jumped from the pulpit. I flew through the air, and landed big and mighty on top of Bradan before he managed to pull the trigger.
I hardly hurt myself as I landed. I guess landing on top of Bradan softened the fall. Bradan screamed, and I soon saw why. His arm had broken when I hit him. It had an open fracture, and I could see the bone. He was grumbling underneath me, trying to get loose, but I was too heavy for him to be able to move. For once, it paid off to be big.
Aileen approached me with her gun pointed at me. My heart dropped as I looked directly into the barrel of the gun.
“Say goodbye,” she said.
I watched as her finger moved on the trigger.
“Don’t!” a small voice said from behind the pews.
It was a small girl. She peeked up, then rose to her feet. She had the same crooked finger as the others. The girl looked pleadingly at Aileen.
“Please don’t, Aunt Aileen,” she said.
“Stay out of this, Caitlin,” Bradan grumbled from underneath me.
“No, Dad. You’re hurting these people. Please, stop it, Daddy!” she cried.
Aileen turned her gun to face the girl. My eyes widened.
“Oh, no you don’t!” I yelled, then lifted my leg and managed to kick her in the stomach. Aileen fell forward, and turned the gun back to me. Meanwhile, Bradan’s gun had fallen to the ground and slid towards the crowd when I hit him. Morten spotted it, jumped for it, turned, and fired a shot at Aileen. I watched as the bullet went into her chest and blood spurted out of her mouth; some of it hit me in the face before she fell to the ground.
Morten then ran to me and helped me get up. He placed the gun on Bradan’s head while I rolled him to his stomach, grabbed Inspector Grady’s handcuffs from his pocket, and cuffed him.
Epilogue
“I guess I should thank you for saving my life.”
Inspector Grady had arrived at the hotel just as we were checking out. He had taken a serious beating to his head and had most of it in gauze. But other than a minor concussion, he was fine, he told us. Morten and I had spent two days talking to the police and the many reporters from all over the country who had come to town to hear the story of the twins, The Rose Killers, who went on a killing spree in the sleepy town of Enniskerry.
We were finally allowed to leave, and I was looking forward to seeing my family like never before. I had told Victor about what had happened and how much he had helped me over the phone, but he hadn’t seemed to care. He was already in a new world of his own and had moved on. I wondered if he already knew everything. Maya, on the other hand, was terrified when she heard. They had even spoken about the events in the Danish media, she said.
“It was no big deal,” I said, and shook the inspector’s hand.
The story of how the small town with the beloved Father Allen as a front-runner had taken the children was all over the media now. What would happen later was out of my hands. People were still waiting for an apology from the Church, but I had a feeling they weren’t going to get it. Not even a statement had been issued so far.
Mary Margaret had been arrested for killing Mrs. Delaney, and Bradan was facing a jail sentence as well. I had given my statement, and now I was leaving the aftermath to someone else. Meanwhile, I was just glad no more people were killed that day in the church. It was only Father Allen and Aileen. Daniel, the clerk, had suffered a shoulder injury, but would be all right, I had been told.
“You ready?” Morten asked, as he picked up my suitcase.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I said, and followed him to our car. He put our suitcases in the back, then held the door for me so I could get in.
“Thank you,” I said, and leaned over and kissed him before I got in. The last couple of days we had been all over each other. Guess an experience like that, where you were almost killed, really does make you think about what you have to be grateful for. And I was very grateful for Morten and for not having to be on the dating scene again. Ever.
Morten drove off and I breathed a sigh of relief when we crossed the city limits and I could only spot the village in my rearview mirror. I couldn’t wait to get away from there.
“So, I was thinking that maybe we shouldn’t go on a vacation anytime soon?” Morten said, as we approached Dublin, where our flight was waiting to take us home to Denmark.
“Yeah,” I said, and looked out the window at the green pastures rolling by. “Let’s stay home for a while.”
I paused and looked at him. “Or…” I said. “Maybe we should go to Greece next time.”
The End
Afterword
Dear Reader,
Thank you for purchasing Where the Wild Roses Grow. I hope it was a pleasure to read. To those of you that don’t already know it, the Magdalene Laundries were real. They existed until 1996. The things that were done to the women there are appalling. They’re even worse than what I describe in this book. You can read more about it here:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magdalene_laundries_in_Ireland
And read some of the stories told by the survivors of these places here:
http://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-21345995
Furthermore, the story of Father Allen is also inspired by true events. A very well known priest from Ireland did hide an entire family in his home until a news magazine revealed it. It was a story that shocked the nation. Read more here:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Cleary_(priest)
Or here:
http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/europe/the-secret-life-of-michael-cleary-entertainer-radio-show-host-father-of-two-and-priest-401971.html
Now I am sending Emma and Morten back to their island, and let’s see how long it takes for them before they get involved in something again. Until then, you can check out my other books by following the links below. And don’t forget to leave reviews, if you can.
Take care,
Willow
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Copyright Willow Rose 2015
Published by Jan Sigetty Boeje
All Rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Cover design by Jan Sigetty Boeje
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Sigettys Cover Design
Special thanks to my editor Janell Parque
http://janellparque.blogspot.com
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Connect with Willow Rose:
@madamwillowrose
willowredrose
willow-rose.net
Books by the Author
click the link to grab your copy today
Mystery/Horror Novels:
What Hurts the Most (7th Street Crew #1)
You Can Run (7th Street Crew #2)
You Can’t Hide (7th Street Crew #3)
Hit the Road Jack (Jack Ryder #1)
Slip Out the Back Jack (Jack Ryder #2)
The House that Jack Built (Jack Ryder #3)
Black Jack (Jack Ryder #4)
One, Two...He is Coming for You (Rebekka Franck #1)
Three, Four...Better Lock your
Door (Rebekka Franck #2)
Five, Six...Grab Your Crucifix (Rebekka Franck #3)
Seven, Eight...Gonna Stay up Late (Rebekka Franck #4)
Nine, Ten…Never Sleep Again (Rebekka Franck #5)
Eleven, Twelve...Dig and Delve (Rebekka Franck #6)
Thirteen, Fourteen...Little Boy Unseen (Rebekka Franck #7)
Edwina
To Hell in a Hand Basket
Itsy, Bitsy Spider (Emma Frost #1)
Miss Polly had a Dolly (Emma Frost #2)
Run, Run, as Fast as You Can (Emma Frost #3)
Cross your Heart and Hope to Die (Emma Frost #4)
Peek-A-Boo I See You (Emma Frost #5)
Tweedledum and Tweedledee (Emma Frost #6)
Easy as One, Two, Three (Emma Frost #7)
There's No Place like Home (Emma Frost #8)
Slenderman (Emma Frost #9)
Where the Wild Roses Grow (Emma Frost #10)
Horror Short Stories:
Eenie, Meenie
Rock-A-Bye Baby
Nibble, Nibble, Crunch
Humpty, Dumpty
Chain Letter
Paranormal Romance/Suspense/Fantasy Novels:
Beyond (Afterlife #1)
Serenity (Afterlife #2)
Endurance (Afterlife #3)
Courageous (Afterlife #4)
Savage (Daughters of the Jaguar #1)
Broken (Daughters of the Jaguar #2)
Song for a Gypsy (Eye of the Crystal Ball -The Wolfboy Chronicles)
I am WOLF (The Wolfboy Chronicles)
Box Sets:
Jack Ryder Mystery Series Box Set: Vol 1-3
Rebekka Franck Series: Vol 1-3
Rebekka Franck Series: Vol 4-6
Rebekka Franck Series: Vol 1-5
Emma Frost Mystery Series: Vol 1-3
Emma Frost Mystery Series: Vol 4-6
Emma Frost Mystery Series: Vol 7-9
Emma Frost Mystery Series: Vol 1-5
Daughters of the Jaguar Box Set
The Afterlife Series: Books 1-3
Horror Stories from Denmark
The Wolfboy Chronicles: Vol 1-2
About the Author
The Queen of Scream novels, Willow Rose, is an international best-selling author. She writes Mystery/Suspense/Horror, Paranormal Romance and Fantasy. She is inspired by authors like James Patterson, Agatha Christie, Stephen King, Anne Rice, and Isabel Allende. She lives on Florida's Space Coast with her husband and two daughters. When she is not writing or reading, you'll find her surfing and watching the dolphins play in the waves of the Atlantic Ocean. She has sold more than a million books.
Connect with Willow online:
@madamwillowrose
willowredrose
willow-rose.net
[email protected]
One, Two… He’s Coming for You
Excerpt
For a special sneak peak of Willow Rose's Bestselling Mystery Novel One, Two… He’s Coming for You (Rebekka Franck #1) turn to the next page.
One, two, He is coming for you.
Three, four, better lock your door.
Five, six, grab your crucifix.
Seven, eight, gonna stay up late.
Nine, ten, you will never sleep again.
One, Two… He Is Coming For You
Rebekka Franck #1
Prologue
One, two… the song in his head wouldn’t escape. Sure, he knew where it came from. It was that rhyme from the horror movies. The ones with the serial killer, that Freddy Krueger guy with a burned, disfigured face, red and dark green striped sweater, brown fedora hat, and a glove armed with razors to kill his victims in their dreams and take their souls, which would kill them in the real world. “A Nightmare on Elm Street,” that was the movie’s name. Yes, he knew its origin. And he had his reasons for singing that particular song in this exact moment. He knew why, and so would his future victims.
He lit a cigarette and stared out the window at a waiting bird in the bare treetop. Waiting for the sunlight to come back, just like the rest of the kingdom of Denmark at this time of the year. Waiting for spring with its explosion of colors, like a sea of promises of sunlight and a warmer wind. But still the winter had to go away. And it hadn’t. The trees were still naked, the sky gray as steel, the ground wet and cold. February always seemed the longest month in the little country though it was the shortest in the calendar. People talked about it every day as they showed up for work or school.
Every freaking day since Christmas.
Now, it wouldn’t be long before the light came back. But in reality it always took months of waiting and anticipating before spring finally appeared.
The man staring out the window didn’t pay much attention to the weather though. He stood with his cigarette between two fingers. To him, the time he had been waiting ages for was finally here.
He kept humming the same song, the same line. One, two, he is coming for you .... The cigarette burned a hole in the parquet floor. He picked up the remains with his hands wearing white plastic gloves and carefully placed them in a small plastic bag that he put in his brown briefcase. He would leave no trace of being in the house where the body of another man was soon to be found.
He closed the briefcase and went into the hall, where he sat in a leather chair by the door to the main entrance.
Waiting for his victim to come home.
He glanced at himself in the mirror by the entrance door. He could see from where he was sitting how nicely he had dressed for the occasion.
He was outfitted in a blue blazer with the famous Trolle coat of arms on the chest, little yellow emblem with a red headless lion—the traditional blazer for a student of Herlufsholm boarding school. The school was located by the Susaa River in Naestved, about 80 kilometers south of Copenhagen, the capital of Denmark. As the oldest boarding school in Denmark, the school took pride in an array of unique traditions. Some of them the world outside never would want to know about.
The blazer was now too small, so he couldn’t close it, but otherwise he was looking almost like he had been back in 1986. He was, after all, still a fairly handsome man. And unlike the majority of the guys from back then, he had kept most of his hair.
His victim had done well for himself, he noticed. No surprise in that though, with parents who were multibillionaires. The old villa by the sea of Smaalands farvandet in the southern part of Zeeland was big and admirable. It could easily fit a couple of families. It was typical of his victim to have a place like this just as his holiday residence.
When he heard the Jaguar on the gravel outside, he took the glove out of the briefcase and put it on his right hand. He stretched his fingers and the metal claws followed.
He listened for voices but didn’t hear any to his satisfaction.
His victim was alone.
Chapter One
“We’re going to be too late. Do you want me to be fired on my first day”? I yelled for the third time while gazing up the stairs for my six-year-old daughter, Julie.
“Go easy on her, Rebekka. It’s her first day too,” argued my father.
He stood in the doorway to the living room of my childhood home, leaning on his cane. I smiled to myself. How I had missed him all these years living in the other part of the country. Now he had gotten old, and I felt like I had missed out on so much and that he had missed out on so much of our lives too. It was fifteen years since I left the town to study journalism. I had only been back a few times since and then, of course, when Mom died five years ago. Why didn’t I visit him more often, especially after he was alone? Instead I had left it to my sister to take care of him. She lived in Naestved about fifteen minutes away.
Well there was no point in wondering now.
“You can’t change the past,” my dad would say. And did say when I called him crying my heart out and asking him if Julie and I could come and stay with him for a while.
I sighed and wished I could change the past and change everything
about my past. Except for one thing. One delightful little blond thing.
“I’m ready, Mom.”
Her.
Julie is the love of my life. Everything I‘ve done has been for her and her future. I sacrificed everything to give her a better life. But that meant I had to leave it all behind—her dad, our friends and neighbors, and my career with a huge salary. All for her.
“I’m ready.” She ran down the stairs looking like an angel with her beautiful blond hair braided in the back.
“Yes, you are,” I nodded and looked into her bright blue eyes. “Do you have everything ready for school”?
She sighed with annoyance and walked past me.
“Are you coming or not?” She asked when she reached the door.
I picked up my bag from the floor, kissed my dad on the cheek, and followed my daughter who waited impatiently.
“After you my dear,” I said as we left the house.
I found a job at a local newspaper in Karrebaeksminde. It wasn’t much of a promotion since I used to work for one of the biggest newspapers in the country. Jyllandsposten was located in Aarhus, the second biggest town in Denmark. That was where we used to live.
When I had a family.
I used to be their star reporter, one of those who always gets the cover stories. Moving back to my childhood town was not an easy choice, since I knew I had to give up my position as a well-known reporter. But it had to be done. I had to get away.
