Wrong Place (DI Sally Parker Thriller Book 1) by M A Comley

Author:M A Comley
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780971801226
Publisher: Jeamel Publishing Limited
Published: 2015-06-25T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

Sally spent the next hour celebrating Dorling’s arrest with the team. Feeling reservations on her part, she headed for home after consuming one glass of white wine. The team remained at the pub, engrossed in their jubilation of yet another case completed successfully. Sally pulled into the parking space at her flat then walked the hundred yards or so to her door. She stopped dead when she rounded the corner and saw the front door of her flat. Damn! Darryl. What the hell does he want?

Her ex-husband was banging on the door with his clenched fist, shouting out her name, and demanding to be let in. Two thoughts crossed her mind: either ring for backup and get him arrested for disturbing the peace or usher him into the flat before her neighbours got pissed off and called the police themselves.

Not wanting to feel uncomfortable with her new neighbours, Sally sucked in a large breath and approached her ex-husband. “Darryl? What are you doing here?”

He swayed a little when he turned to look at her, obviously drunk. “There you are. Sally, my darling wife! Come ‘ere.” He reached for her, but she slapped his hand away.

“I asked you what you’re doing here, Darryl?”

“I’ve come to see you. What a silly question, dearest,” he slurred, his voice rising. His eyes screwed up as he tried to focus on her.

Reluctantly, she pushed him through the front door ahead of her, glancing over her shoulder to see if any of her neighbours had come out to investigate the noise. Luckily, none of the neighbours had stirred.

Once she was inside, the old feelings of wariness she’d thought were buried suddenly resurfaced. She herded Darryl into the small living room then rushed past him into the tiny kitchen to put the kettle on. She knew that the only solution when he was in this state was to force gallons of black coffee down his neck. She returned to the living room to find him swaying in the centre of the room, repositioning his feet every few seconds as he surveyed all four corners of the living room. “This is shit.”

“I agree.” She left the room to prepare the coffee when she heard the switch sound on the kettle. Keep calm, girl. Let him say what he likes. You know what happens when you challenge him. With her inner voice’s instructions foremost in her mind, she returned to the living room and placed the two mugs of black coffee on the small table. She invited Darryl to sit in the only comfortable chair, volunteering to sit at the small table herself. But Darryl dropped lopsidedly into the other chair around the round table and just stared at her. Sally pushed his cup towards him.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because it looks as though you need sobering up.”

“Not the damn coffee.” He struck the mug with the back of his hand and sent it hurtling across the room, where it hit the newly painted wall.

“That’s enough, Darryl,” she said, fear causing her voice to tremble.

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