The Darkness Beneath

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  PROLOGUE

  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-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

  EPILOGUE

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  THE AUTHOR

  Copyright

  To sad endings and new beginnings

  In memory of a dear friend and colleague, Fiona.

  The world lost a little bit of its sparkle when you passed. You are missed every day.

  And to my good friends, Mr & Mrs Smith, AKA The Smervs.

  You are perfect together and I wish you every happiness for the future.

  PROLOGUE

  December 1998

  Somebody was in the house.

  Lizzie had fallen asleep on the couch, so didn’t hear the first thud, but the sound of breaking glass jolted her awake. She hadn’t meant to doze off, only intended to close her eyes for a few seconds. The noise had her bolting upright, the textbook she had been reading slipping to the floor as her heart leapt into her mouth. She held her breath, told herself not to panic. For a moment it was just her beating heart and the soft methodical ticking of the grandfather clock. Glancing at the time she noted it was almost nine. Early still, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t Nell. Maybe she had cut her date short? She had promised Lizzie she wouldn’t be late. Or perhaps it was the Dolans? It crossed her mind briefly that Nell would be in trouble if Mr and Mrs Dolan arrived home and found out she wasn’t here. Lizzie was about to call out, wanting reassurance, when she heard a distinctly male cough. She froze.

  ‘For fuck’s sake, keep it down.’

  The voice wasn’t more than a whisper, but it was angry. It wasn’t Nell, it wasn’t the Dolans, and there appeared to be two of them. She picked up her book, her scrambled brain telling her legs to move. Why weren’t her legs moving? The footsteps were now in the hall leading down to the living room, and they were growing closer.

  Run.

  Her feet finally engaged, the textbook still tightly clutched in her hand as a useless weapon. The kitchen was ahead. There was an archway leading through to the front hallway where she could make her escape.

  ‘Are you sure the place is empty?’ A different man’s voice.

  ‘I told you it was. They’re gonna be gone for hours.’

  ‘So who does the glass belong to?’

  Dear God. In her hurry to get out of the room, Lizzie had forgotten her soda. Get out, now, before they find you. She glanced at the archway that led to the hallway and the safety of the front door. Above her Tommy and Emily slept. If she ran she would leave them alone with two intruders.

  ‘Who the fuck is here? You said it would be empty.’

  ‘Ssssh.’

  They were listening for her. Lizzie made a decision. She tiptoed across to the counter, slid a large stainless steel knife from the block sat next to the oven. She wouldn’t let them hurt Tommy and Emily. She crept out into the hallway, her thick socks muffling her footsteps on the wooden floor as she passed the huge Christmas tree decorated in bands of red and silver, its expensive baubles twinkling in the light of the giant chandelier. Her legs were shaking as she took the stairs to the second floor. The rich mahogany of the bannister was decorated with fake holly, winding round and round as it led a path up the staircase. Mrs Dolan always went to town at Christmas and the house was like something on a seasonal greeting card. Onto the half landing and from below came the sound of footsteps. They were in the kitchen now and still arguing.

  ‘There’s no car in the drive. Trust me, no one is home.’

  ‘You can’t say that for sure.’

  ‘What about the kids?’

  ‘Sleepover at a friend’s. The house is empty.’

  ‘So how do you explain the soda?’

  ‘Maybe they forgot to clear it away. Listen up. I have more to lose than you do, so stop whining like a little bitch and let’s get this done and get out of here.’

  Lizzie didn’t stop to hear anymore. She needed to wake Tommy and Emily, get them somewhere safe. She opened Tommy’s door quietly, thankful it didn’t creak, and crossed to the bed where the ten-year-old slept on his belly, comforter half on the floor and one leg of his PJs rolled up to his knee.

  ‘Tommy?’ Lizzie set down her text book and knife on the nightstand and reached for his shoulder, her whisper urgent. ‘Tommy, I need you to wake up.’

  He opened one eye, stared at her sleepily. ‘What are you –?’

  ‘Shush. You have to be quiet.’

  ‘Where’s Nell?’

  ‘I’ll explain, but first we have to get Emily.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘Nell had to go out. Tommy, I need you to listen.’ He was fully awake now and sitting up in bed, rubbing at his eyes.

  ‘There’s someone in the house. We need to hide.’

  His eyes widened and she could see he had a million questions. He was too young to properly understand and he should be sheltered from this, but there wasn’t time. Downstairs came a distinct male cough.

  Tommy’s eyes opened wider still. ‘Who’s that?’ His voice was frightened.

  ‘I don’t know, but there’s two of them and they broke in. We need to get your sister and find somewhere to hide.’

  Mercifully he quit with the questions and climbed out of bed.

  ‘Try to stay as quiet as possible. We don’t want them to hear us, okay?’

  He nodded, clinging to Lizzie’s free hand as she picked up the knife and they made their way across to Emily’s room. Tommy’s four-year-old sister was more difficult to rouse and Lizzie ended up carrying her, quilt trailing on the floor, to the closet where Tommy waited. She ushered Tommy inside and settled Emily down in his arms before returning for the knife she’d left next to Emily’s bed.

  ‘What do we do now?’ Tommy asked. He sounded frightened.

  Lizzie returned to him, crouching down. ‘I need you to stay here and keep quiet.’

  ‘What about you? Where you gonna be?’

  ‘Do your mom and dad have a phone in their room?’

  ‘Yeah. It’s next to the bed.’

  ‘I’m going to try and get it, call the police. You stay here, okay?’

  ‘You’re gonna come back, right?’

  ‘Yes, I’m coming right back.’

  As she started to close the door, Tommy caught hold of her hand. ‘Lizzie?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I’m scared.
’

  ‘I know, baby. I’ll be as quick as I can. You hold on to your sister and keep quiet as possible. Whatever happens, don’t come out of the closet. Promise?’

  ‘Promise.’

  Lizzie slid the closet shut and with a deathly grip on the knife made her way to the bedroom door. Mr and Mrs Dolan’s room was at the end of the landing. Barely daring to breathe she crept down the hallway, into the bedroom. Her relief when she spied the phone on the nightstand was quickly overshadowed by a fresh wave of fear as she heard footsteps on the stairs. She froze, perspiration beading on her forehead, her knuckles turning white as she squeezed the handle of the knife even tighter.

  Her eyes darted around the room. The closet was the only option, but it was the opposite side of the room to the phone. Voices grew closer.

  ‘You’re sure you know the combination?’

  ‘Jesus! Yeah, I’m sure.’

  Lizzie flew for the closet, pulled back the door and squeezed herself inside, huddling between rows of dresses. She pulled the door shut, holding her breath. They were in the bedroom now. A bead of sweat trickled down her back. The clothes smelt of detergent and a soft musky perfume.

  Stay still. Don’t make a sound.

  The closet door opened, startling both Lizzie and two men dressed in black. In blind panic Lizzie leapt out of the closet, lashing out with the knife. She heard an anguished scream, didn’t wait to see what damage she had inflicted.

  ‘Fucking bitch. She’s getting away.’

  Down the stairs, footsteps close behind her, into the kitchen, socked feet slipping on the polished floor. As she ran for the front door she felt a hand grab at her hair, yank hard, and she stumbled, falling back and fighting to keep a grip on the knife as the man who had chased her straddled her, pinning her down. Shock registered as she recognized him. She tried to raise the knife, but her strength was no match for a grown man and he easily gained control, prizing the knife from her fingers. She reached up using her now-free hand and spearing her thumb towards his eye. He screamed, lashing out wildly, Lizzie twisting beneath the blows he rained down. As she started choking, horror registered in his one good eye. He raised his hands to his face. They were covered in blood.

  Lizzie glanced past him at the stairs, at the decorations snaking up the bannister, to the little boy, his thumb in his mouth, crouched in his pajamas midway up the steps. Were it not for his frightened eyes, she could have believed he was sitting there waiting for Santa.

  Then the picture-postcard scene darkened to black.

  CHAPTER ONE

  September 2017

  If there was an award given for bad days, Nell O’Connor figured the one she was experiencing would be in the running. First she had slept through her alarm then shortly after leaving the motel the engine in her car had overheated and she’d had to wait for a tow truck, then a further two hours at the garage while her radiator was repaired. She couldn’t use her card, couldn’t risk Caleb tracing her, so she had counted out dollar bills from her precious stash of cash, relieved to have enough left for the ferry crossing. The final setback was on the last leg of her journey when, with less than twenty-five minutes to spare before the ferry departed, she hit a traffic jam on the freeway. There were later ferries, but she wouldn’t make it to the bank before they closed.

  She tapped her fingers impatiently against the wheel, the radio that had been her constant companion since leaving Chicago now grating on her nerves. Spotting the sign ahead for East Haven, knowing she could cut through the back streets to the ferry port, she hit her blinker. She caught a couple of red lights, but traffic was lighter than on the freeway and she was blessing her decision to cut through, until she caught the tail end of another jam on the main road out of town leading down to the port. Nell glanced at the clock, knew she had about twelve minutes to play with as she drew bumper to bumper with the car in front. This wasn’t going to work. She was going to miss the damn boat. She swore under her breath, tightening her grip on the wheel. And then she remembered the harbour road that ran down the back of the main street leading to the waterside. It was meant for supply trucks, but was generally empty, and was the only chance she had of getting there before her boat left.

  Nell slowed the Ford and waited for a break in the traffic to make the turn. She glanced again at the clock, saw she was down to ten minutes. A gap came in the traffic and she seized it, turning into the private road. Mostly she stuck to the rules, but today was an exception. She knew the road well, knew it was a four-minute journey straight through. No one would be any the wiser and she wouldn’t miss the crossing.

  As she sped past the backs of the shops her gut tightened. Returning to the island brought mixed emotions: nostalgia tinged by regret and, bubbling under the surface, apprehension. Purity had been her home for the first ten years of her life, and, even after her mother had moved them to the mainland, she had continued to spend summers on the island with her aunt. Things had changed though since the last time she had been there and her absence over the years would have done nothing to redress the balance.

  Still, it was better than what she was running away from in Chicago.

  The car eased round to the right and she began the downhill descent to the waterfront, affording her a view of the ocean. The afternoon sun bounced off the surface, raining sparkles across the swelling green hues of the water. In the distance she spied a couple of sail boats, knew they were probably filled with tourists staying on the island hoping to spot a pod of dolphins.

  Up ahead a truck pulled into the road, blocking part of the view and Nell pulled into a driveway so it could pass. A few yards before it reached her the driver hit his hazards and came to a stop outside the back of a bar. Angling his baseball cap low on his forehead, he climbed down from the cab. Nell thumped her palm against the steering wheel as he moved to the back and threw open the doors, beginning to unload crates. You’ve got to be kidding me! The driver had stopped on the narrowest part of the road and there was no way she was going to get past his truck. Frustration bubbled over as she killed the engine and climbed from her car.

  ‘Excuse me.’

  The truck driver didn’t answer at first, so she tried again, louder.

  This time he glanced up, a lazy grin on his face. ‘Hey, what’s up?’

  ‘I need to get down to the ferry. I can’t get past your truck.’

  The guy glanced at Nell’s car then down to the port. He was young, maybe early to mid-twenties, with a swarthy complexion and a goatee. ‘You know this is a private road, right?’

  ‘Yes, I know. My ferry goes in about eight minutes. I had to cut through. You need to move your truck.’

  ‘Well if you know that, you know it’s for deliveries only.’

  ‘Yes, I saw the sign. But I told you, I’m running late and I have to be on this ferry. If you could please let me past this once.’

  ‘Sorry, ma’am, rules are rules. The road’s private so we don’t have to let people through.’

  ‘I get that, but – ’

  ‘No ‘buts’. I make an exception for you I have to start making one for everybody. Now I’m sorry but you’re either going to have to turn around or wait until I’m done.’ He tilted his hat at her, returning to the back of the truck.

  ‘Wait until you’re done? You don’t understand. My ferry goes in minutes.’ When he ignored her, reaching inside the truck for another crate, Nell grabbed hold of his arm in frustration.

  He wheeled around, looking pissed off. ‘Look, lady. Go wait in your car, okay. I’ve got a job to do.’

  ‘Why are you being such an asshole? It would take you seconds to move your truck.’

  ‘Because those are the rules, so take your hand off me and stop giving me attitude.’

  ‘Is there a problem here?’ Nell glanced round to see a dark haired guy standing in the doorway that led to the back of the bar, thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans. Bar owner she presumed, hoping she could reason with him to get the delivery guy to move hi
s truck.

  ‘I need to get to the ferry port. My boat goes in five minutes and he won’t let me through.’

  ‘You do know it’s a private road?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s a private road, we’ve covered that. And yeah, I know I shouldn’t be driving down here, but seriously, I have to be on this ferry, so a little understanding would be appreciated.’

  She was getting snappy and could feel frustration bubbling over into anger, was scared it could manifest itself into panic, and this wasn’t helped by the laid-back stance of the new guy, who stood listening to her rant, shoulder against the door frame, one leg cocked and a lazy half-smile playing on his lips, which suggested she was amusing him.

  ‘You done?’ he asked, as she paused for breath.

  ‘What is wrong with you people? Are you seriously finding this funny? I can’t believe you’re going to make me miss my boat because you’re too damn pig-headed to move a stupid truck.’ Tears of frustration pricked at the backs of her eyes, as her face and neck burned. Nell forced herself to focus on her breathing as the thud in her chest quickened.

  The bar owner regarded her, the cocky smile on his face widening. Although his eyes remained on her, he addressed the truck driver when he spoke. ‘Fancy a coffee, Eddie? My shout.’

  Eddie looked delighted and set down the crate he had unloaded. ‘Sure thing.’ He tipped his hat at Nell as he passed her, a broad smirk on his face.

  ‘You’re just going to leave the truck here?’ Nell was talking to the backs of their heads as they disappeared into the bar. ‘That’s great. Nice one. Thanks for nothing. Assholes,’ she yelled after them.

  With no target for her anger she kicked the front wheel of her Ford harder than intended, wincing when pain shot up her foot. There was no way she was going to make the boat. The bank would be closed when she arrived and she had no money left to buy groceries. Her heart was racing; the tightening in her chest when it came was sudden and hard, sucking the air out of her lungs.

  Oh dear God, not now.

  As the vice grip crushed her chest, the trembling started. Her legs too rubbery to stand, Nell sunk to the floor beside the car, gripped her knees tightly and forced herself to breathe slowly and deeply through her nose. ‘One-hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight…’ Sweat beaded on her forehead and under her arms as she struggled to control her breathing. She continued to count backwards. Focus, O’Connor.