by D. K. Hood
Where Angels Fear
An addictive crime thriller with a gripping twist
D.K. Hood
Books by D.K. Hood
Don’t Tell A Soul
Bring Me Flowers
Follow Me Home
The Crying Season
Where Angels Fear
Whisper in the Night
AVAILABLE IN AUDIO
Don’t Tell A Soul (UK listeners | US listeners)
Bring Me Flowers (UK listeners | US listeners)
Follow Me Home (UK listeners | US listeners)
The Crying Season (UK listeners | US listeners)
Where Angels Fear (UK listeners | US listeners)
To Daniel and Gary Brown my brainstorming team, who encourage me every step of the way.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Epilogue
Whisper in the Night
Hear More From D. K. Hood
Books by D.K. Hood
A letter from D.K. Hood
Don’t Tell a Soul
Bring Me Flowers
Follow Me Home
The Crying Season
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Friday
“Just keep driving.” Fear gripped Ella Tate and she turned in her seat to glare at her friend. “Don’t stop. Have you lost your mind?”
“We don’t leave people stranded in Black Rock Falls.” Sky’s voice sounded harsh in the stillness. “There’s a blizzard on the way and the poor man could freeze to death.”
The idea of traveling into the middle of nowhere in the pitch black with not even a sliver of a moon scared the crap out of Ella, let alone stopping for a strange man on the side of a deserted highway. “We haven’t passed a car for at least an hour. He could be a serial killer just waiting for us to drop by.’
“Really, at midnight on this stretch of road? It’s freezing out there, and why would he have his hazard lights on if he wasn’t in trouble?” Sky slowed the car.
Unease fell over Ella like a shroud and her heart raced. “Don’t stop. His face is covered and I can’t see his hands. He could be a psycho carrying a gun and just waiting for someone to come by so he can murder them.”
“He could be a woman. Everyone bundles up against the cold. We don’t look very feminine at the moment, do we?” Sky gripped the wheel and edged the car to the side of the road. “Even a psycho wouldn’t be crazy enough to be out here with a blizzard on the way. He or she needs our help. It’s the neighborly thing to do.”
The same dread she experienced walking into a haunted house on Halloween gripped Ella and the hairs on the back of her neck rose. Everything her brother had drummed into her when she left for college came to the front of her mind. She could hear her brother’s voice loud and clear. Do not at any time help a stranger alone. The advice was right up there with hitchhiking. Stopping in the dead of night on a lonely highway, miles from town, was stupid. She swallowed hard and gripped her phone as the dark figure came into view. “Offer to call a tow truck and drive on.”
“You won’t get any bars out here. We’re too far from town.” Sky’s window hummed down. “Can we offer you a—”
The hooded figure lashed out and a spray of hot fluid splashed over Ella’s cheek. Sky fell into her, blood gushing from her nose and staining her blonde hair. The dark figure wrenched open the door and grabbed the car keys. Heart hammering in her chest, Ella gaped in disbelief at the ax he held in one hand, the blood-splattered metal glistening in the interior light of the car. Shocked and unable to move, she stared into the black eyes of a huge man. He said nothing, just almost casually unclipped Sky’s seatbelt, dragged her from the car and tossed her onto the ground as if she was a bag of trash. Oh, my God, he’s killed her and I’m next.
The stranger laid the ax on the blood-soaked seat and lunged toward her. The freezing air hit her in the face like a slap. She cringed and leaned away from him. “D-don’t touch me. I’m calling 911.”
Sheer panic constricted her chest and her muscles bunched as her body’s flight reaction slammed into place. When he cursed and went for her cellphone, she flung it at his face, unclasped her seatbelt and fumbled for the door handle. His large gloved hand groped at her arm just as the door swung open and her feet hit the blacktop running. She dashed down the highway, leapt a ditch alongside the road and headed into the cover of total darkness. The dead winter grass and frost-covered undergrowth tangled around her feet. Terror grasped her throat as she stumbled over the uneven ground, not looking back. A white gate loomed up and she threw herself over the top. The drop onto the hard frozen ground radiated through her legs but the terrain here was level, with no undergrowth. She lifted her knees and, gasping the freezing air, ran for her life. I have to get away.
With no moonlight and nothing to guide her, she stretched her eyes wide to see but only pitch black lay ahead. Each breath hurt deep in her chest and shooting pains cramped the muscles in her legs but she kept going, running blind. Something hard hit her in the chest and she bounced back, winded. Terror dragged a cry from her throat and she pushed down the panic. Caught on an invisible fence, she struggled, unable to move like a fly in a web. Barbed wire stuck to her clothes, holding her like Velcro.
Behind her, she heard a roar like a wounded animal and pounding footsteps on the blacktop. She chanced a look over one shoulder but only the headlights of Sky’s vehicle lit up the highway. Wrenching the coat from the wire, she gaped in terror as the unmistakable glow of a flashlight moved in an arc and she hit the ground. Her stomach knotted in fear. He was coming after her.
When the light moved in another direction scanning the open land, she paused for a second to watch then her stomach cramped in horror as it turned her way. She had to run. The flashlight bobbed in the distance and in moments, he would be heading through the gate and in her direction. A sob of distress escaped her lips but she pushed to her feet and escaped into the blackness. As if nature was against her, the snow clouds parted and a crescent moon peeked through. Her insides twisted and she turned, searching for a place to hide.
Not ten yards away she made out a clump of trees with trunks like massive
black poles and chest burning with overexertion, sprinted into their protection. On the other side of the cluster of trees, she could make out the shadowy outline of a building. Not a house but perhaps the ruins of an old barn. She turned around and heart thumping in her ears, watched the light bouncing along in the distance. Her chest ached and huge billows of steam surrounded her with each breath giving her position like a beacon. Exhausted, she bent hands on knees. There was nowhere to hide and how much longer could she keep running? He would catch up soon and murder her.
She needed to think, to outsmart him. He would expect her to hide in the building but she had other ideas. She dragged in a few deep breaths, turned around and headed back into the trees. The pines had a few low branches but high up they thickened capping each tree with lush foliage.
She panted for each breath and, fighting through the agony of torn muscles, reached for the next limb.
Trembling, she wedged herself between two of the tree’s sturdy branches then straddled a thick bough. She hugged the trunk, pressing her cheek against the rough surface. He’s coming. The heavy crunch, crunch, crunch as his footsteps pounded the frozen ground sent shivers up her spine. A shadowy figure appeared and the flashlight beam scanned the area. As if tracking her by sound, he stopped and turned his head this way and that before moving on. Oh, God, he’s found me.
The crunch, crunch, crunch of his boots breaking the thin patches of ice on ground had gotten louder. The flashlight moved from side to side as he searched under the bushes and his heavy breathing sent plumes of steam curling in the beam. He’d come so close she could hear him muttering obscenities under his breath. And he was as mad as hell.
“Where are you, bitch?” His voice came out in a ball of condensation. “When I find you I’m gonna cut you into little pieces.”
He moved away, his flashlight picked out an overgrown trail to a dilapidated building. Ella choked back a sob of relief and, to her horror, he heard her. He stopped dead and swung the flashlight around, then made his way back to her tree. He was standing directly beneath her. Her mouth went dry and she bit down so hard that the metallic taste of blood coated her tongue. Sweat prickled down her back. She prayed he would not look up and find her; then, as if by divine intervention, an owl swooped across the shaft of light and settled in a tree. The crunch, crunch, crunch came again as the stranger moved away.
Fingers numb from holding on to the tree, Ella peered into the darkness, too frightened to move. Minutes later, the bobbing flashlight was heading back in her direction. Sheer terror slammed into her as he lifted the beam into the trees. She wrapped her legs around the trunk and made herself as small as possible. She pulled the cord of her hoodie tight around her face with trembling fingers, and squeezed her eyes shut. If she kept her face hidden, he might not see her.
The light came closer. He was checking every tree. Afraid that he would see her breath, Ella pressed her face into her sleeve and breathed through her nose, but the lack of oxygen made her dizzy. Panic gripped her and she shook. Her teeth chattered. She held on tight as he scanned each of the pines, coming closer and closer. Each second seemed to last a lifetime. Then she heard a sound, way off in the distance. She must be hallucinating, it sounded like a woman’s voice calling her name. No hallucination, he had heard it too.
“Dammit, I’m goin’ to shut her up for good and you’re next, sweetheart.” The man’s angry voice seemed to boom in the silence, then he spun around and took off at great speed toward the road.
Ella let out a long breath and listened. The thin, wavering, ghostly voice came again.
“Ella, where are you? Help me.”
Shocked and horrified, Ella peered in the direction the man had run but trees blocked her view. Oh, my God. He’s going back to kill her and I’m next.
One
Saturday
“Jenna, you should go see a doctor.” Deputy Dave Kane handed her another box of tissues.
“It’s just a cold.” Sheriff Jenna Alton raised red-rimmed eyes to his face. “I’ll be fine in a few days.”
Kane shook his head. “It’s been over two weeks and you’re getting worse. Trying to cope with the horses in this weather isn’t helping.” He tapped the bottom of his cane on the floor. “Damn this knee. I should throw you in the car and make you go.”
“Good luck with that.” Jenna gave him a belligerent glare then wiped her red nose and sniffed.
Duke whined and rested his big head on the bed. His sad bloodhound eyes moved from Jenna to Kane as if he was reluctant to take sides.
Kane pointed to him. “See, even Duke knows you’re ill.” He threw one arm up into the air. “Okay, have it your own way. I’ll go make breakfast.”
Stymied, he made his way slowly into the kitchen and filled the kettle, then checked the hotcakes in the oven. Working with an ex-DEA agent living in witness protection with a new name and face as his superior had been one crazy adventure. Especially as she lived in fear of her life after giving evidence against underworld kingpin Viktor Carlos.
After leaving his job in the DC’s Special Forces Investigation Command, he’d found himself working off the grid in Black Rock Falls. At first life had been difficult, living a lie. The government had created a new identity for him after a terrorist planted a bomb under his car, killing his wife and leaving him with a titanium plate in his head. He’d settled into his new life until everything changed last fall. A maniac had shot him and he’d fallen into a canyon and shattered his knee, however the plate had become an asset. It had saved his life but he’d suffered short-term memory loss, his mind taking him back to the day he lost his wife, and the memories of his time after he arrived in Black Rock Falls had vanished. After extensive rehabilitation following surgery to replace the plate, he’d found his balance again and could walk on his reconstructed knee. The pain endured since the extensive surgeries had intensified with the freezing temperatures and, over the last few weeks, venturing outside had become near impossible.
He’d been in no shape to care for himself after leaving the hospital and had taken up Jenna’s offer of her spare room rather than try to cope in his cottage, set a stone’s throw from her house, a massive hundred-year-old ranch house, with big rooms and wide hallways, which made it easier to negotiate in his wheelchair than the cottage. For the first month, Deputy Shane Wolfe had arranged a nurse to care for him during the day, which was a pain as he could cope fine alone and only needed her for his injections. The well-equipped gym was perfect for his rehabilitation, but he had to admit having Jenna as his coach was a double-edged sword because although he enjoyed her company, she pushed him to exercise like a marine drill sergeant.
When Deputy Jake Rowley called to offer his assistance with the horses, Jenna had gladly accepted and insisted he stable his own mount on the ranch as recompense. Now, with Jenna ill, he was considering stabling the horses in town instead; it didn’t seem fair to drag Rowley to the ranch twice a day to check the horses as well as expecting him to take over the sheriff’s department in their absence. He refilled the coffee pot and leaned against the counter. Moments later, Rowley knocked on the front door.
“Coming.” Kane swung open the door and a blast of freezing air slammed him in the face, sending spirals of agony into his brain. He stood to one side and Rowley stamped his feet on the mat, then stepped inside, shucking his boots at the front door. Kane peered into the blizzard. “It’s getting worse out there. You’ll have to wait for the snowplow to come by and follow it back into town.”
“Sure looks that way.” Rowley shrugged out of his coat and Kane could feel the cold flowing from him and smell a hint of snow and horse on his clothes. “The horses are snug and warm. I’ve seen racing stables with less insulation. The double doors make all the difference and you have enough food in there to see you through June.”
Kane led the way to the kitchen. “I ordered extra supplies before the snow. I remembered how it was last year.” He hooked his cane over the back of a chair and went to t
he counter.
“How’s the sheriff?” Jake Rowley pulled off his gloves and dropped onto a chair.
Kane poured the coffee and handed him a cup, then turned back to the counter and broke eggs into a bowl. “Worse and she won’t go see a doctor.”
“She would have a hard time getting in to see old Doc Brown, he’s everyone’s favorite. I hear the women prefer to go to Doctor Abigail Sneed but Maggie said her friend waited three hours yesterday.” He sipped his beverage. “The other one, Doctor Weaver, has a notice in her window saying she’ll do home visits.” He raised a brow. “Do you figure being new in town the locals don’t trust her?”
Kane added butter to a pan and poured in the eggs. He wondered why their receptionist’s friend had decided to wait rather than go to a different doctor. “Doctor Weaver was here when I arrived. Exactly how long does it take to stop being a newbie?”
