by PJ Fernor
To her, if she can beat her current pace, then she can do anything in life.
She’ll walk into the office tomorrow with an extra kick in her step. She’ll take on the bigger project by herself. She’ll close a deal that’ll get the attention of the bosses upstairs.
Tonight’s run is the most important run of her life.
That’s what she tells herself and that’s what she believes.
In reality, the most important decision would have been to stay home.
The park is quiet and not very well lit.
The first few times she ran here, she would get nervous. She would see figures and silhouettes that weren’t there, or were just objects.
At one point on her first run here she told herself if a park bench starts chasing her, she’s got problems in life.
That made her laugh. And it killed the fear.
As she runs around one of the bends in the park, she sees a figure up ahead.
Normally, it wouldn’t bother her.
Not even in the slightest.
Just think about the bench chasing me…
Except tonight, this figure it right in the middle of the path.
And it’s real.
It’s the figure of a person.
A man.
Tall.
Wide shoulders.
She sucks in a breath and focuses on herself.
The path is wide enough for two people.
Even though this person is in the middle, she can still run around the figure.
Which she does.
She doesn’t look.
In a fraction of a second, it’s in the past now.
Maybe the person is mediating or drunk or just being obnoxious and trying to scare people.
She looks at her watch again.
Now her pace is all messed up.
No record run tonight.
All because of that…
She looks back and the figure is right behind her.
Maybe even inches away.
She opens her mouth to scream, and the figure attacks her.
“Tell him it’s his fault. Tell him he knows why this happened. I promise you this, if you say one word about this to the cops, you’ll never talk again. Do you understand me?”
She hears his voice.
That rough, growling voice in her ear.
She’s hurt. Scared. On the ground, curled up in pain.
If being pushed the ground wasn’t enough, the guy attacked her.
His large hand covering her mouth…
“Now you’re going to go to sleep for a minute or two, but that’s okay. When you open your eyes, pick yourself up and get home. Tell him what I said, okay? And if anyone sees you, tell them you fell. You hit your head. Got it?”
All she can do is nod.
It’s so dark out, she can’t see the man.
She can feel him. Hear him.
She can barely make out his figure.
Her heart screams at her mind to fight back.
It’s too late.
He smashes her head off the ground and everything goes dark.
Her eyes start to flicker.
Fire.
Her lips begin to move.
Burning.
She can breathe.
Hurting…
She slowly turns her head and can barely open her eyes enough to see what’s happening.
Fire. Burning. Hurting.
Those are the only three words that her brain can process. That’s only because it’s what feels.
She tells her brain to tell her hand to move.
It’s her hand that feels the fire, burning, and hurting.
It’s not her entire body.
There is no real fire. There’s no flames. No crackling of anything.
The park isn’t on fire.
But the pain… her hand…
She can’t move her hand.
She’s not sure why.
Fire. Burning. Hurting.
There’s a figure next to her.
She hears grunting.
The pain gets worse.
She opens her mouth to scream but there’s nothing coming out.
Her ability to move, scream, anything is gone.
She blinks a few times and see’s where the pain is coming from.
It’s not good.
It’s not good at all.
It looks - and feels - like someone is cutting off her hand.
Keep Reading
Hey there Reader
Another Allie Down novel has ended… but that means another is about to begin. This time, things get even more personal.
A woman is murdered - and her hand is cut off.
A man is murdered - and his hand is cut off.
They have nothing do with one another…
As Allie investigates and begins to unravel the case, another person is murdered. And their hand is cut off too.
What could make this case worse?
Allie is being followed…
FREE PREVIEW BELOW:
He opens the swinging door and sees Peter sitting on the stainless steel countertop. Peter looks at him and frowns.
“What did you do out there?” he asks.
“I had a system,” he says. “I was going to win it all back. For you. Okay?”
“Cheating.”
“An advanced strategy.”
“Do you think I need that kind of heat on me right now?”
“No. Nobody would have known.”
“I saw it from a mile away. You were using your left toes. I saw them moving in your shoes.”
“You saw that? For real?”
“Who do you think I am?”
“Oh… I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
“Peter, get off the counter,” he says.
“Sorry.”
Peter jumps off the counter.
Peter’s a good worker. Also too dumb to know better.
Just like this cheating thing.
Everyone thinks they can win. Or they can cheat.
It doesn’t work that way.
Ever.
“I have to send a message, Peter,” he says.
“What? Like a phone call? A text message? Do you need me?”
Case in point of how dumb this guy is…
He snaps his fingers and the doors swing open again.
Three men walk in.
They don’t need names.
They’re bodies.
And they listen.
“Oh, man,” Peter says. “What is this?”
“Put him on the counter,” he says to the three guys.
Peter starts swinging but it’s no use.
The three guys have Peter on the counter in seconds.
Holding him down as he cries.
“Peter, stop crying and look at me,” he snaps.
Peter looks. “I’m so sorry…”
“I know you are. Now I need you to say something to me. You know what to say, right?”
“We’re all his,” Peter whispers.
“His being me, right?”
He smiles.
Peter laughs. “Yeah. That’s right. We’re all yours. That’s you. You’re The One. I get it. I see it.”
He puts his hand to Peter’s chest. “Okay. That’s good. You can see. You have an important job here, Peter.”
“Anything. Anything you want, I’m your guy.”
“It involves seeing,” he says.
“I have great vision,” Peter says.
“Good, good,” he says. “Because I need your eyes to send a message.”
“My eyes? You want me to look at something?”
“No, Peter. My associates are going to cut our your eyes and give them to your friends who were helping you cheat.”
Peter starts to scream.
He walks away and the screams get worse as the true pain begins.
That’s just what life is.
True pain.
He walks into a small office and sits
down in a big chair.
There’s a lot of work to be done.
A lot of orders being placed.
For some reason he still thinks about Gerard.
Such a good worker too.
The man had been in such debt and worked out of that debt and was such an asset.
Then he became instantly disposable when he exposed himself.
All for the thought of love.
Such a foolish thing to do.
He thinks about finding Gerard.
Taking him out to the road and having one of his associates killing him.
Leaving the message so it was loud and clear who did it.
He loves sending messages.
Because this entire operation must go on.
There’s no stopping it.
He reaches for a pen and finds a blank piece of paper.
This is where things get a little tricky.
It’s been quiet. And quiet is good.
But there’s one name that keeps playing through his head.
A loud name. A loud voice.
Someone he knows can’t stay quiet for long.
Someone he wishes who just would.
He writes the name and then lifts the piece of paper and stares at it.
He reads it twice.
Then he speaks it out loud.
“Detective Allie Down.”
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Did you know there’s a novel that takes place before Allie returns to Sandemor? Titled DOWN THE BASEMENT, the book follows Allie as she’s a city police officer desperate to become a detective.
A young girl goes missing in broad daylight… Allie is told to stay away from the case… but she doesn’t listen.
She catches the kidnapper. But there’s one problem.
He won’t tell Allie - or anyone - where the girl he kidnapped is…
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About the Author
PJ Fernor lives in just about the same 'sleepy town' as Allie Down. PJ's hobbies are reading mystery, crime, thriller, and romantic suspense novels, along with watching crime shows, and listening to crime podcasts. As a kid, PJ could be found with a notebook, a pen, and always off to find an adventure or crime to solve. And when most days resulted in no crime to solve, that's when PJ started writing.
The Allie Down series comes to you in order of publication date:
WAY DOWN THERE
DOWN THE DRAIN
DOWN TO THE WIRE
LETTING YOU DOWN
DOWN FOR THE COUNT
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. (This also includes the cover image and/or cover model(s) appearing on the cover. The context of this book does not in any way depict the personal life of said cover model(s). Image is licensed and used purely for fictional purpose only.)
First electronic edition November 2020
Copyright © 2020 by PJ FERNOR
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part of any form.
Copyright image iStock/DepositPhotos/SHUTTERTOCK/ADOBE IMAGES
Copyright cover Cosmic Letters
