CAPTURED INNOCENCE by Hickey Cynthia

Author:Hickey, Cynthia [Hickey, Cynthia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-03-23T07:00:00+00:00

12

Conley thrust aside overhanging ivy and bolted into a private garden. Moonlight streamed down, illuminating the enclosed area. Jo stood before the entrance to a white lattice work gazebo. Her hands covered her face.

She screamed again. Her voice ripped through the night. She whirled when he placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Shhh. It’s me.” He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. Conley rubbed her back and peered over the top of her head.

A young girl lay on the floor of the gazebo. The white gown she wore was splattered by blood. The slice in her neck appeared black in the light of the moon. Her eyes stared sightlessly up at them. Raven tresses fanned around her head. Conley wrinkled his nose against the rusty metallic smell of blood. The cloying scent of late blooming flowers mixed with the odor.

“It’s the girl from Blake’s house.” Jo’s words were muffled in Conley’s chest.

Footsteps pounded from the other side of the wall. Inquiring voices rose and fell, questioning as they tried to discover the source of the scream. Harold Woodward burst through the foliage and stumbled into the garden, followed closely by Blake.

Harold stopped short, eyes wide behind his spectacles. “What…who?”

“Who is that?” Blake’s words hung heavy in the air. “What happened?”

Jo raised her head. “You know who she is. Conley and I saw her at your house earlier today.”

“We don’t know what happened.” Conley’s finger traced the path of Jo’s tears, wiping them from her face, before he turned to Blake. “Maybe you can tell us.”

He shook his head. “Impossible. I’ve never seen that girl before.”

“She was there, Nielson.” He set Jo away from him and shrugged out of his jacket. He laid the jacket over the dead girl’s face to hide her from prying eyes as people crowded around them. It was then he noticed her right index finger was missing. It had been severed at the knuckle. He placed the sleeve of his jacket so it covered her hand. “She was standing on your front porch decked out in a red dress.”

“What are you implying?” Blake clenched his fists at his side. “Are you insinuating I had something to do with this girl’s death?”

“I’m not insinuating anything.”

“Stop it. Please.” Jo sank to the concrete bench beside the gazebo. “The girl is dead. Let’s not fight over where she was or wasn’t.”

“I’ll phone the police.” Harold turned and ushered the other guests from the garden. “I’ll have to tell, Sylvia, too. She’ll be curious … and disturbed.”

Conley spared the man a glance and his eyebrows rose. Curious and disturbed?

Blake stepped forward. He planted his feet in the fallen leaves covering the ground. He stood close enough Conley could see the moon reflected in the man’s dark eyes and smell the sweet fruity scent of the wine he’d drunk. “What were you doing at my house?”

“Taking a walk. Why? Worried?”

“I’ve nothing to be worried about.”

“Really?” Conley’s attention was diverted by the squeaks coming from Jo with each breath she took. He slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out her inhaler.

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