The Girls in the Woods (28 page)

‘Let’s not talk about him. It boils my blood thinking about him and what he’s done to those girls, Jo, Tilly and you. Tomorrow we’re all going to have to relive every minute of today when we give statements so let’s just try to forget about it for now and get some rest.

‘I’m really worried about Jo; she lost a lot of blood. Do you think she’ll be okay? I wonder if she’s out of surgery yet.’

Will’s phone began to ring. ‘Hello.’

‘Will, it’s Paul, Dr Miller. Jo’s out of surgery. Can you tell Annie that she’s okay? They’ve managed to stop the bleeding and repair the damage. She’s gone into intensive care, but it’s just a precaution.’

Will stuck his thumb up at Annie, who breathed out a sigh of relief.

‘That’s fantastic news, Paul, I’m so glad. We’ll come and see her tomorrow. If you get to speak to her tell her I said thank you, from the bottom of my heart.’

‘I know, it’s a miracle – thanks to you. I think you saved her life, Will, and of course I’ll tell her when she wakes up. She’s a pretty amazing woman.’

He ended the call and Will chuckled.

‘Go, Jo! She’s a right little fighter underneath that timid exterior. It looks as if she has the good doctor to look out for her as well, which is a nice end to this horror story.’

Annie smiled. She couldn’t wait to see her and thank her in person.

One week later

Annie had bought the biggest box of chocolates she could find in the shop; once Jo was home she would send her flowers as well, but they weren’t allowed in the hospital. She had spent the entire week doing nothing much – Will had forbidden her to leave the house unless she was with someone, which was fine by her. The whole experience had left her exhausted. Tilly had been released three days ago into the arms of a tearful Lisa and Ben. When Will had questioned her about how she had come into contact with Heath Tyson she had told them about her dreams of becoming a model. Will could have kicked himself; he had seen the stack of
Vogue
magazines in her bedroom and hadn’t made the connection. Before Lisa could begin to berate her for being so stupid, Annie had grabbed hold of her niece and held her tight, telling her that she would indeed make the most amazing model, but she was to go about it the proper way with a reputable photographer, who she and Will would vet before Tilly even set foot through their door.

‘Thank you, Annie. I thought you would all laugh at me.’

Annie had kissed her and looked across at Tilly’s parents.

‘Isn’t that right, guys? If she wants to be a model then we’ll help her all the way, won’t we?’

Ben had grabbed tight hold of Lisa’s arm and nodded.

‘Of course we will. Anything you want to do – we’re here to help you, aren’t we, love?’

All eyes had fallen on Lisa, who everyone expected to rip Tilly’s dream to shreds in a thirty-second rant, but she’d whispered, ‘Of course we will; we’ll help you all the way.’

Annie drove around the car park, looking for a space near to the hospital main entrance. Her back had been aching so much since she woke up this morning, it was hurting her to walk far. After driving around three times a car reversed out and she pulled into the last space outside the Accident and Emergency Department. As she got out of the car and leant in the back to get the chocolates, which had fallen to the floor, a sharp pain spread from the middle of her back into her side making her inhale sharply. It lasted a minute then subsided; she rubbed her belly, not sure what it was.
Don’t even think about it, kid. I’m not ready and neither are you. So I’m just ignoring you.
She made her way into the hospital and walked along the long corridor until she reached the lifts. Jo had been transferred to a general ward to recover. As she got to the ward the pain came again, making her pause to catch her breath. Surely not – she was only seven months pregnant; it was far too early and she’d still not finished the damn cot, which had more parts to it than an entire fitted kitchen. She walked into the small private room that she’d spent time in not that long ago and smiled to see Jo and Dr Miller sitting there. Annie rushed across and hugged her tight, careful of the bandage around her neck.

‘Thank you so much, Jo. I don’t know what to say. You saved our lives.’

Jo smiled back at her, holding on to her just as tight.

She croaked, ‘You also saved mine, Annie, in more ways than one. I hope we can still be friends. I can’t stop thinking about eating a slice of that cake from the village coffee shop.’

‘Friends? You will never be rid of me. Have you thought about where you’re going to stop when they release you? We have plenty of spare rooms at our house. You’d be more than welcome.’

Jo looked across at Paul and smiled.

‘Thank you, but I have my very own doctor to take care of me now. Paul and I go back a very long time, but I was stupid and chose the wrong man. He has a room all ready and waiting for me. I can’t go back to my house; well, actually, it was always Heath’s house. I don’t want to go back there and, besides, I think the police won’t be finished with it for a long time yet. Will came to see me yesterday and told me what was happening with the investigation – it’s so horrific. I can’t even begin to imagine how he could do those wicked things to those girls. Leaving them all alone and burying them when he knew their families would be out looking for them… it’s just so horrific. Oh, by the way, that was incredibly sneaky; you never once stopped me when I was telling you how dreamy and gorgeous Will was that day we went for coffee.’

Annie felt her cheeks begin to burn.

‘Sorry about that, but I wasn’t thinking straight – and it seemed funny hearing someone else tell me how dreamy he was. I mean, I’ve always thought that he was but it just didn’t seem right saying that it was my husband you were talking about. I didn’t want you to think I was some crazy, possessive woman.’

She winked at Jo who laughed. Paul joined in.

‘Hang on a minute, what about me? Am I not dreamy?’

Jo sat forward and grabbed hold of his hand.

‘You’ve always been dreamy, but I kept my head buried in the sand and hadn’t looked at you for so long that I’d forgotten.’

He stood up and kissed her tenderly on the head.

‘Perfect answer and I can live with that. Right, I’m off; I have to go and do some work. My patients’ haemorrhoids and sprained wrists won’t mend themselves. You take care, Annie. It’s great to see you.’

‘Bye Doctor Miller.’

‘You can call me Paul, you know. I think we’ve gone past all the formalities now, don’t you?’

‘Yes, I suppose we have, but it just seems so cheeky, especially if I want you to sort my haemorrhoids out.’

She winked at him and they all laughed.

‘I have a feeling we’ll be seeing quite a lot of each other, Annie, so please do. I was never big on the doctor thing and if you need a prescription let me know.’

He left and Annie sat down in his chair, letting out a sigh.

‘You know, he’s quite dreamy as well. Look at us. I never got the chance to tell you about my ex husband, Mike, did I? He was a bit like Heath and very handy with his fists. In fact he almost killed me one night and when I woke up in the hospital I decided then that I was never going back.’

‘Oh, Annie, I had no idea. I’m sorry to hear that. I can’t believe that someone as strong as you had an abusive husband.’

‘I don’t talk about it really; I still get ashamed – but look at us, two women who had to fight for our lives against abusive husbands to finally find happiness with a couple of dreamboats.’

‘Well, why not? Don’t we all deserve a happy ever after?’

‘Yes, we certainly do and if I had a glass of champagne I’d drink to that.’

‘Me too. What will happen to Heath now? I mean, will he ever be let out of prison? I really hope not because I think with him out of my life I might just be able to finally start living again.’

‘He’ll go to court for a full trial, because Will said that he pleaded not guilty when he was interviewed. It will take months for them to gather the evidence and for it to get to court – which means even more agony for those girls’ families. Hopefully Will’s team will find more than enough evidence to prove to the world what a complete liar he is.

‘Why would he plead not guilty? I can’t believe it. I mean he had those photos of those girls enlarged and hung up on his studio wall for everyone to see. I can’t understand why I never noticed before or why none of his clients thought they were funny.’

‘Probably because they just thought they were supposed to be some kind of dramatic statement, a tribute to his art and skill.’

‘It’s so creepy to know that he had pictures of dead girls on the wall; that’s not normal behaviour, is it? Wouldn’t he be better off pleading guilty?’

‘It would certainly save the families having to go through the horrors of a court case but most killers enjoy the attention. They are quite often living for the thrill of daring to do what no one else would. He’ll get to relive it over again through the courts and the newspaper coverage.’

After ten minutes the door opened and Paul came back into the room.

‘My stupid car won’t start and the tow truck won’t be here for another four hours; apparently they are having a record-breaking number of call-outs and being a single male with no screaming kids or elderly parents I’m not a priority.’

‘I’m going now, so I can drop you off. But how will you get back for your car?’

‘I’ll bring my motorbike. I can leave that here for now because I rarely use it and besides they might not be able to get the car started so it might need to go to the garage. At least then I won’t be stranded.’

Annie hauled herself up and hugged Jo once more, holding her tight.

‘I’ll see you soon, Jo. Thank you again. I don’t think I will ever stop thanking you. Now make the most of this being waited on by the nurses, because you’ll be home before you know it.’

‘Where I’ll take over and wait on her hand and foot. I always knew my medical training would come in handy one day. Not to mention my fabulous baking skills. I’ll have you fattened up and feeling better in no time at all.’

Paul kissed Jo one more time then left with Annie.

Chapter 30

Heath Tyson’s house on the edge of the woods stood out now it was surrounded with blue and white crime scene tape. Like some morbid fairground attraction, it had been named ‘The House of Horrors’ by the local paper; the nationals had picked up the story and when Will had called into the village shop the black and white photograph which had been taken by a local photographer – the one he really didn’t like – had screamed at him from the front cover of every single newspaper.

Inside and outside the house had been photographed, videoed and searched from top to bottom several times over; it had been Will who had found the hidden safe yesterday that none of them could gain entry to, despite several of them trying. It had taken them until today to find someone to come and open it. The locksmith had spent the best part of forty minutes cursing under his breath and wiping sweat from his brow but he’d finally done it. Will had watched the entire time, holding his breath and keeping his fingers crossed behind his back because up to now they hadn’t found anything concrete that proved that Heath had killed those two girls. They had the death photos of them on the studio wall and that was it; he hadn’t actually killed Tilly or Annie, thank God, although he very nearly had – but not in a cold-blooded way. He had left them in the fridge, drugged up and hypothermic, but not dead. Most killers would have just got on with it and it was puzzling him why Heath hadn’t killed Annie whilst he had the chance either – not that he’d wanted him to, God forbid, but it was niggling away inside him. He’d only hit Jo with the axe in retaliation for her hitting him first and if he got a good lawyer they would claim it had been nothing but self-defence. They needed some kind of concrete proof that would result in the right conviction against him. Will wanted him locking up and the key throwing away so he’d never be able to look at or photograph any more women.

The bright flash from the crime scene investigator’s camera broke his daydream as the contents of the safe were photographed in situ. His white paper suit was uncomfortable and his rubber gloves were irritating him; it was warm outside and he could feel the beads of sweat forming on the back of his neck. He still felt tired, even though he’d slept all night. When he’d asked the Chief Super if someone else could take over from him because this case was too personal, his answer had been that they were short staffed and he was already up to date with the case. Much to his dismay, the man had told him that it didn’t make sense to take him off it – and he’d actually had the cheek to say that no one in his family had died, so Will could carry on. That was probably the closest he had ever come to punching a senior officer; the man was so insensitive – thank God no one had died, but it had been a close call for Tilly, Annie and poor Jo, who had come off the worst of them all.

Will leant down and looked inside at the contents, hoping to find a murder weapon, but all that was inside was an antique, brown-leather photo album with the words Memento Mori in gold script on the front. Where had he heard that phrase before? He couldn’t remember. Taking it out he began flicking through the pages. It was very old and most of the photographs were black and white with the subjects wearing Victorian clothing. Most of the pictures were of babies and children, but there were a few snaps of adults as well. He shivered – they truly made him feel uncomfortable as he stared at them. They were awful; not the sorts of photos you’d want to put on the mantelpiece for everyone to stare at. He realised why the words were familiar. A while ago he’d seen similar pictures on the internet; they were called Memento Mori – mourning photographs of the dead. Although, it was hard to discern which ones were actually dead because there were two, three siblings or parents posing next to them. As he flicked through them, intrigued by the quality and the effort that had gone into them, he shivered. They would stick in his mind forever.

As he got three quarters of the way through it there were some much more modern photos – an elderly woman in her nightgown who had quite clearly died at home in bed, her yellowed, sunken skin and slack jaw making her look a lot different to how her family would want to remember her. He turned the page and this time it was the same woman but her false teeth were in her mouth, her eyes were shut and she had a slight smile across her lips making her look much better. Her thinning, wispy grey hair had even been brushed and she looked as good as a corpse could look. Will frowned; why would he have these pictures; why would he even want these? The woman was still under the same duvet cover as in the previous picture so she hadn’t been moved to a funeral home where you would expect that sort of work to be carried out. There was a black leather doctor’s bag on the chair next to her. He flicked the page to see an elderly man who was dead in his armchair, his eyes frozen open, staring into another world, a look of horror on his face that would certainly upset his family or whoever it was that found him. He turned the page; this time the same man had his eyes and mouth closed, again in a half smile.