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Back The Woman in the Wood Save as PDF
Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. Also by M.K. Hill
  3. THE WOMAN IN THE WOOD
  4. Copyright
  5. Dedication
  6. Contents
  7. Epigraph
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. 47
  55. 48
  56. 49
  57. 50
  58. 51
  59. 52
  60. Acknowledgements
  61. About the Author
  62. An Invitation from the Publisher

‘Mrs Weston!’ Abs called, striding towards the door, but when he tried to move Jez out of the way, his friend stood firm, blocking the door. Abs shoved him, Jez shoved back, and there was a little scuffle, both of them pushing, but not really wanting to hurt each other.

‘Abs.’ Jez grabbed him by the shoulders, and his face was twisted in dismay. ‘Don’t do this.’

But Abs gave him a last big shove, sending Jez stumbling off the porch and onto the earth, and placed his hand on the door. ‘The police want to speak to her about Tony’s death, so we’re gonna take her in.’

‘If you open that door,’ Jez said in a pleading voice, ‘things will never be the same. I’m begging you, mate, don’t throw away our friendship.’

The wood began to spin again. Abs saw the glass and the curtains and the damp-stain on the ceiling, and the mattress, whooshing and churning behind his eyes, and he felt the panic build inside him.

‘Too late,’ he said, and turned the handle. Stepping inside, it took a moment for his vision to adjust to the darkness behind the boarded-up windows. ‘Mrs Weston? Are you in here?’

When his eyes adjusted, he saw a single bed, with sheets tangled on it. Behind that was a radiator, and he sensed someone on the floor beside it. Abs stepped closer, just as he heard the snivelling sound: someone crying.

‘Oh my God,’ he said, feeling sick, because a young woman was tied to the radiator. She looked up at him with red, pleading eyes.

‘Help me.’ Her words were muffled because of the gag tied around her mouth. ‘Please help me!’

40

As soon as Sasha walked into the bar, she saw a barman flamboyantly pouring cocktails from a shaker. She looked forward to having a drink: a nice Pinot, a gin and tonic, maybe a pornstar martini.

It occurred to her that she hadn’t eaten since lunchtime. She already felt a bit fuzzy from necking the champagne in the hotel room, and it wasn’t ideal that she was flying solo – she felt self-conscious in this posh place, but she only intended to have a single drink. Sasha lifted herself onto a stool at the bar. She felt the pull of her phone inside the glittery clutch. It would be so easy to check her emails, or compulsively trawl her favourite news sites, but she was determined – determined – to ignore it unless it rang.