by Amy Cross
Copyright 2019 Amy Cross
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events, entities and places are either products of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual people, businesses, entities or events is entirely coincidental.
Kindle edition
First published: November 2019
Ten years ago, Lisa Ashford's father did a terrible thing... and he got away with it. He promised Lisa that he wouldn't kill again, and for the past decade they've both lived happily in their little cottage in an English village. But can the past ever truly stay buried?
Last time her father killed, Lisa was an impressionable girl who struggled to understand society. Now she's a young woman, and ignoring the truth isn't so easy. Can she still stand by while her father commits terrible crimes? Or will she take a stand and try to stop him? And if she disobeys his instructions, how far will her father go in order to keep his deadly secrets?
The Strangler's Daughter is the story of a man driven by demons, and about a girl who has to face the truth about her father.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Epilogue
The Strangler's Daughter
Prologue
Father's coffin looks far too small.
As I sit at the front of the chapel, I stare at the coffin and I wonder: how did they fit him in there? Did they have to wedge him in sideways? I know the funeral home would have done nothing untoward, but still I find it difficult to believe that Father could have been easily placed in such a small box. Perhaps he wasn't as big a man as I always thought.
The priest is doing an admirable job, given the circumstances. He's managing to find kind words to say, and I'm sure the few – very few – attendants here at the chapel today will appreciate that he was facing an uphill battle. He's avoided mentioning all the unpleasantness, and instead has focused on Father's work as an architect and on his role raising me alone. I appreciate that, even if I can sense a hint of clipped discomfort in his voice.
Finally the service ends, and I watch as the coffin is carried out. Once it's gone, I get to my feet and prepare to follow, and for the first time I am able to see just how many people came today for Father's funeral. I hadn't dared turn around since I got here, but now I see that there are five people dotted about the chapel. That's more than I expected, although they're all staring stony-faced at me, and I suppose they'll all hurry off in their different directions at the first possible opportunity.
And then, as I'm able to start walking down the aisle, my neckerchief sometimes comes loose and falls away. I freeze, but I know it's already too late. Everyone can see the thick, dark bruises that run like a ring all around my neck. Then again, why does that matter anymore? They all know everything that happened.
Well, almost everything...
Chapter One
Today
Grabbing the knife, he lets out a pained grunt as he turns and storms across the room. He overturns one of the tables, sending glasses smashing to the floor, and then he stops with a maniacal glint in his eyes. He's breathless and sweating, and the scratch on his left cheek is bleeding. There's hatred in his eyes as he slowly raises the knife, and he hesitates for a couple of seconds – as if maybe he's having second thoughts – before lunging forward.
“Do you want anything from the shop?”
Turning away from the TV, I see Dad standing in the doorway.
“I'm just going for a walk,” he continues, “and I wondered if you wanted anything.”
I glance at the clock.
It's late, almost half nine. That's a little late for a walk, but maybe not too late. I suppose.
I turn back to Dad.
“No,” I reply, shaking my head. “Thanks.”
On the TV, a woman screams.
“What are you watching this time?” Dad asks, looking past me.
“Just a film.”
“It seems pretty violent.”
There are more screams. The attacker has managed to stab his victim once, but she's fighting back. There's blood everywhere. Realizing that I'm missing some of the action, I hit the pause button.
“It's just some kind of thriller,” I explain. “It's right at the end now.”
“You watch some weird stuff, Lisa.”
“It's just a film.”
“Then I won't disturb you any longer,” he replies, before turning to head back across the hallway.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“Just out for a walk,” he replies, as he disappears from view. “I feel like stretching my legs, that's all.”
I hear the front door swing open.
I want to ask him exactly where he's going, but somehow I know there's no real point. He'll just be vague again, and – besides – it's not as if there are many places to go walking in our little village, especially not at night. Assuming he won't want to go wandering off along the muddy country lanes, I suppose he'll just take the main road for a while and then try a few of the back routes beyond the pub. There won't be many people around, not on a Wednesday evening, but perhaps that's the point. Perhaps he just wants to be alone with his thoughts for a while. I can understand that. Maybe it's my fault, maybe I've had the TV on too loud.
I hear the front door bump shut, followed by the sound of Dad's footsteps on the gravel outside.
I hesitate for a few more seconds, thinking about him walking the unlit streets and lanes so late at night, and then I turn back to the TV. There's no reason to worry about anything. I'm sure Dad's not the only person who goes out for walks. I just have to remember that it's a completely normal thing to do.
Un-pausing the film, I force myself to focus on the screen.
The killer slashes at the woman's face, missing her by inc
hes. She screams and pulls away, but the killer has already managed to lunge at her again. This time he drags her down to the floor, and together they knock the dresser over as they land. The killer raises the knife, but the woman grabs his wrist and tries to hold him back. The struggle goes on for a few seconds, although the killer is slowly starting to move the knife down toward the woman's face. The camera focuses on her left eye as the blade's tip gets closer and closer.
“Help me!” she screams, as I realize that maybe I have got the volume up a little too loud. “Somebody help me!”
Chapter Two
Ten years ago
Mum hasn't said anything since she got into the car.
We parked at the side of the road, outside the house. It's late, and there are very few lights in the village. I can see a couple of people stepping out of the pub on the far side of the village green, but otherwise there doesn't seem to be anyone around. We've been sitting here for at least ten minutes now, and – although it's too dark for me to really see – I can hear Mum sniffing occasionally.
She's crying.
I want to ask what's wrong, but to be honest I already know the answer. She and Dad had another of their big arguments, except that this time it was even bigger than usual. I don't know what it was about, because as usual they took care to make sure I was in my room, but this time Mum eventually came and grabbed me. She told me that we're leaving, and she pulled me out to the car, and now we're sitting here and I don't know if we really are leaving. If we leave, where would we go?
I really just want to go back inside and watch TV. That's what I usually do while Mum and Dad are figuring out one of their arguments.
“So,” I say, figuring that maybe Mum's forgotten that I'm even here, “can we go back inside now?”
I wait, but she doesn't reply. She's sniffing more than ever, and when I look at her I can just about make out the side of her face silhouetted against the house's front door. Staring straight ahead, Mum seems to be lost in a world of her own, and after a moment I realize that maybe she didn't even hear me just now, that maybe something's actually wrong this time. I'm so used to my parents having massive arguments, it hadn't actually occurred to me until now that this one might be serious.
Mum's hands are resting on the steering wheel.
“I need to go to the toilet soon,” I say. “Can I go back inside and go to the toilet?”
I wait.
No answer.
I really don't know what's going on tonight, but I heard snatches of the argument. Mum was doing most of the shouting, she was telling Dad that he was a 'monster' and that she was going to take me away from him forever. I don't know why she'd say something like that, but she was absolutely screaming at one point. I could hear Dad trying to calm her down, but if anything he only made things worse. He kept telling her that if she made a mistake, she'd regret it for the rest of her life, that she'd ruin everything. He sounded like he was almost losing his temper, which is scary. Dad never loses his temper.
Suddenly I see the front door open, and Dad steps into view.
Mum sees him too. She bursts into action, starting the car's engine and muttering frantically under her breath as she hits the gas pedal. The car shoots forward and rides straight across one corner of the village green before bumping back down on the other side. That's when I realize that I'm not wearing my seat-belt, so I quickly buckle up as Mum drives the car around the corner and along the road that leads out of the village.
I look back, but Dad and the cottage are already out of sight.
Chapter Three
Today
10:30pm.
All around me, there's nothing but silence.
Standing in the living room, having just switched the TV off after seeing a couple of movies, I watch as the second hand continues to tick round on the clock. I'm usually in bed by now, and that's where I should be right now, but I'm reluctant to go to my room until Dad's back.
On a normal night, Dad's home when I go to bed.
On a normal night, I can still hear him moving about downstairs while I'm trying to get to sleep.
On a normal night, I don't have to wonder where he's gone.
I look over at the window. All I can really see is darkness, of course, and the only light is a faint orange glow that I know comes from the pub on the far side of the village green. The bushes in the front garden are casting a dancing shadow across the windowpanes, so I suppose there must be a light breeze out there. Otherwise, everything seems very calm and peaceful, as if all is right with the world. Forkworth is a very small village, there are only a couple of hundred people living here. At night, it can sometimes feel as if there's no-one else in the whole world.
But Dad's still out there somewhere.
I hesitate, wondering what to do and whether I'm worrying for nothing, and then I head over to the doorway and flick the light off. Once the living room is dark, I kneel on the sofa and lean forward so that I can peer out at the street. I narrow my eyes a little, hoping to see better, but then I realize that there's no sign of anyone out there at all. The village green is just about visible, but of course it's empty. The pub's outside lights are off, but there's a faint glow from inside, which means Michael's letting people drink up. I doubt Dad's in there, though. He's not much of a drinker, although he does pop into the place occasionally.
He said he was going for a walk, however, so I have to assume that that's exactly what he's doing. If he was going for a drink, he would have said he was going for a drink. He never lies.
I know I shouldn't worry, but I can't help myself. This is starting to remind me a little of the bad times that happened ten years ago. I was only fifteen years old back then, but I remember every moment of the dread and fear that I felt. Those days are supposed to be over, although deep down I've always known that they're not really over, that they could come back at any second. At best, they're paused indefinitely, and at worst there's always been a strong chance that it could all start again. But Dad promised me everything was under control now, and the past decade has been so nice and sedate. If he's going back to how he was back then...
No.
No, he wouldn't.
Even if he did, I'd have seen it coming long before now.
I sink down on the sofa, while still watching the village green. I know I should go to bed, but I'm going to wait up, until I see that Dad's coming. Then I'll go to my room and pretend that I was in bed all along. I don't want to lie, but I just need to know that he's home safe, and that everything's alright, and that I don't need to worry. I just need to get rid of this slow, tightening sense of dread in my chest. I just need to know that Dad's late-night walk really was a late-night walk.
I need to know that it's not happening again. I need to know that this is just another normal night.
Chapter Four
Ten years ago
Bringing the car to a halt at the side of the main road, Mum cuts the engine and then leans back in the driver's seat. The lights were on in the car when we were driving, but now they flick off again.
I wait, but Mum hasn't said anything since we left home and she isn't saying anything now. She's still sniffing back tears, but she once again seems lost in her own thoughts. Her breathing is a little erratic, as if she's panicking, and then she places her hands back on the steering wheel. Her fingers seem to be trembling slightly, and I feel as if it's not my place to disturb her by asking what's wrong.
Finally she takes her mobile phone from her pocket and unlocks the screen, and then I watch as she dials the number 999.
She hesitates, and I wait to see if she'll press the button to connect the call.
The screen goes dark again.
My mouth feels dry.
Looking around, I realize that we're not that far from home. We're out on the road that leads to the industrial estate between here and Kemberside. I remember coming out here once with Mum and Dad when we were getting a new sofa. I can see the large, dull buildings looming out o
f the darkness, but at least there are a few lights around here. I turn and look over my shoulder, but all I see is the empty road stretching back the way we just came. There's no-one else to be seen. There's probably no-one else for miles and miles.
I turn back to Mum.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
She hesitates, and then she turns to me. I can't see her face in the darkness, but I can still hear the occasional sniff.
“Lisa,” she says, her voice sounding choked with tears, “I...”
I wait.
“Lisa,” she continued after a few seconds, “you might hear some things soon, about your father. I just want you to know that everything's going to be okay.”
“What kind of things?” I ask.
“I can't get into it right now.” She pauses. “Bad things.”
She reaches over in the darkness and puts a hand on my knee.
“What you need to remember,” she says, “is that none of this changes who you are, or the fact that you're the most loved girl in the whole world. None of it's your fault. It's not my fault, either, it's...”
Again, her voice trails off. She seems to be really struggling to work out what to say.
“No,” she mutters, slipping her phone away, “I need to get us somewhere first. I'm going to check us in at that hotel along the road. You need a bed, you need somewhere to sleep. Tomorrow's going to be...”
She hesitates, and then I think I hear her say the f-word under her breath. And then, in the darkness, she starts sobbing. Her shoulders are heaving and she leans forward, and I see silhouetted tears falls from her silhouetted face, and I'm so shocked. I don't even know what to do, except that after a few more seconds I put a hand on her shoulder as I wonder what could have made all of this happen, and I try to think of something that might make her feel better.
“It's okay,” I say feebly, even though I know that my words won't really help. “Everything's going to be okay.”
Chapter Five
Today
Suddenly I hear footsteps on the gravel. I must have nodded off, but now I spring up from the sofa and hurry to the hallway. Glancing at the clock, I see that it's almost 2am, which means that I was sleeping at the window for more than three hours. Panicking in case Dad realizes that I've been up all this time, I race barefoot up the stairs and go through to my dark bedroom, and then I stop and push the door almost shut as I hear Dad's key in the lock.
