Time To Play KA Richardson (best thriller books to read .txt) 📖

‘Do you mean Wear Street?’ asked Alex, standing and putting his hands on the desk.

Elvie nodded swiftly. ‘Yes Wear. They take Nita to Wear Street. Take Elvie too later. House dirty. Smell bad. Danny put Elvie in room but Elvie see Nita. Gaz hurting Nita.’

‘Then what happened?’ asked Ali.

‘Danny tell Elvie not to be virgin. Say man no want if not virgin. He kiss me and man shout at Danny. Man punch Danny then leave.’

‘Wait a minute, was Danny a dark-haired lad, about twenty-five years old? Would you recognise him again?’

Elvie nodded. ‘Yes. Elvie would know. He nice man. Help Elvie escape later. You know where Danny is?’

Her voice was so hopeful that Ali felt bad for having to tell her the truth. ‘I think Danny was killed, possibly by Gaz and Rocko from what you’ve told me.’

Elvie started to cry again quietly.

‘Think that’s enough for now, bro,’ said Alex softly, pulling a tissue from his pocket and handing it to Elvie. ‘Here you go, pet.’ Turning to look at Ali, he said firmly, ‘I think it’s safe to say our cases are now officially linked. Take care of her? I’ll go brief the super and the teams upstairs.’

HDU, Sunderland Royal Hospital – 19 November

Connor tried to fight waking up. He didn’t want to; it felt good floating on the clouds that the morphine left him on. His throat felt sore, and his tongue felt like it was coated with a thick carpet. Groaning, he forced his eyes open a slit, but the room was blurry, and he couldn’t focus.

His memory of what had happened taunted him, just out of reach. He knew it had been bad, but that was all he knew. He wanted to go back to sleep and not remember at all.

He went to turn over and curl back into the covers, but his stomach protested. It was tight and pulled painfully, causing him to gasp.

Feeling around with his hand, he managed to find the button that released his morphine. He vaguely remembered an angel in white telling him about it the last time he’d woken up. He pressed it several times, not conscious enough to realise it was on timed release anyway, so repeat pressing wouldn’t affect the amount entering his body.

As his mind drifted again, he saw horrible flashes of things that could have been memories. His dad swinging from a rope, smiling eerily. His uncle cutting the rope with a rusty old knife and laughing evilly as his dad fell with an oomph. He couldn’t decide which bits were real and which were made up by his drug-addled mind.

He felt something between his lips – the nurse had put a straw there. For a second he forgot what he was supposed to do, but then recalled and sucked hard as though his life depended on it. The cool orange juice slid down into his tummy smoothly and he welcomed it gladly. He hadn’t even realised he was thirsty.

‘Thank you,’ he said, though it came out more as a muffled groan. The nurse knew what he meant though. She patted his arm gently and told him to rest.

Drifting again, he closed his eyes and fell back into slumber.

Marlo’s Flat, Sunderland – 19 November

Marlo didn’t know what to do.

Agnes had gone to Cass’s cottage, but Elvie hadn’t wanted to go. Since they’d got back to the apartment, all the kid had done was sit on the sofa staring into space, her eyes so full of pain that Marlo wanted to gather her up into the biggest cuddle ever and never let her go. She felt wholly unqualified to deal with the situation, if she was honest. Agnes had told her that all Elvie needed to know was that Marlo was there, that she was safe and that she could talk if she wanted to.

Marlo trusted Agnes: she’d brought up eight kids practically on her own, so she obviously knew what she was on about. Besides, Marlo had no other point of comparison. Her growing up in and out of children’s homes hadn’t taught her how to handle kids. She’d generally just stayed out of the way absorbed in whatever book she was reading at the time.

Marlo had tried with Elvie, she really had. She’d tried talking but Elvie hadn’t spoken back, listening but Elvie was just not open to replying. She’d tried interaction – asking Elvie to help her in the kitchen and with some chores – but the kid had just sat on the couch and shook her head. She looked small, and so very sad sitting there lost in her lonely world.

Deciding they needed to get out of the house, Marlo decided to try another tactic. She got to her feet and passed Elvie her shoes and one of Marlo’s thick jackets. ‘Come on, love. We’re going out.’ She kept her tone firm so Elvie knew she had to go, and Marlo had to stop herself grinning as Elvie reluctantly pulled the shoes on and stood.

The drive to Seaburn would have been completely silent if not for the music coming from the radio.

Marlo parked up the car, still not quite knowing what to say, but she’d felt the need to show Elvie the sea. When Marlo had been growing up, the ocean had been a constant. The care homes she’d spent most of her time in had been a stone’s throw from the beach, and she’d become a frequent visitor, the soothing sound of the waves helping her cope with the crap she put up with at home.

On a whim, she bought two ice creams from the shop and led the way down to the sand. She didn’t know if Elvie had ever seen the sea, or sat on the sand, but it had always helped her.

Feeling the soft sand beneath her