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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

And so he did, changing the odd fact here and there. He didn’t want to admit that he couldn’t afford a cab, so he told her he left the party on foot to clear his head. ‘I’m a total lightweight, I can’t take my drink.’

Abs said he was bundled into the car by three men. No, he didn’t know the make of the vehicle, or get the registration, he wasn’t thinking straight. But when the car slowed, he managed to jump out. He showed her the friction burns on his arms. After that, he’d gone home in shock.

‘Did you know any of the men?’ said Sasha, and his heart began to clatter in his chest.

‘I didn’t, no,’ he lied, but then added, ‘but I’ve seen one of them before, the one with the Welsh accent.’ The detective looked up from her notes. ‘He was hanging around at an event I did yesterday morning.’

‘We’ve a couple of photos we want to show you,’ said Sasha, and nodded at the other detective, who opened the file and placed a pair of images on the table in front of him. Abs didn’t want to look, but knew he had to.

‘Yeah, that’s him.’ He pressed his finger to one of the police mugshots. The man in the photo was younger, but it was the same guy. ‘That’s the fella in the back of the car, the one who pulled me inside.’

Sasha Dawson placed a fingertip at the top of the other image. ‘And what about this man, Abs?’

He didn’t want to look at that photo, but he shifted forward to hide the fact that he was squirming in his seat, and recognized him instantly as the man watching him at the QuidStore in Basildon, Davey Jenkins.

‘Yeah,’ he admitted. ‘That’s the one sat in the front.’

‘Do you remember anything else about him, Abs?’ she asked. ‘Maybe about the way he spoke?’

Abs’s throat was very dry, as if it had also been scraped raw on the road last night. ‘He was Welsh, he had an accent.’

‘Do you recognize him from anywhere else?’ She gave him an encouraging smile. ‘Besides from the QuidStore, I mean?’

He shook his head. Abs knew why he had been abducted – and nearly killed – but he didn’t want to tell the detective that, because he definitely didn’t want to open that can of worms. It was a big mistake coming here.

‘The man who sat in the back of the car is Stephen Gosling,’ said the detective called Ajay. ‘He’s local to the area, he lives on Canvey Island, but grew up in Cardiff.’