Chrissy Ferguson Crime Thriller 01-The Killing Shed by Janet C L

Author:Janet, C L [Janet, C L]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Suspense, Scottish Suspense, Police Procedural, Paranormal Police Procedural, Crime Thriller, Murder Investigation, Scotland, Forensic Psychologist
Publisher: CLJ Publishing
Published: 2023-02-20T00:00:00+00:00

August 1994

The midday sun beat down as he marched across the yard, augmenting the stale stench of sweat and pig shit emanating from his rarely-washed overalls. His useless idiot of a son had disappeared again, but he wasn’t going to get away with it this time.

Pushing open the kitchen door, the sound of hushed voices coming from the living room caught his attention. His first instinct was to call his wife’s name, but something stopped him. Something about the mumbled voices kept him silent.

Carefully, he closed the door, trying to muffle the sound of the catch clicking into the frame with his large hands. It wasn’t easy to creep silently across the kitchen. He was the size of a barge and stealthy was not a natural mode for him.

The door to the main living area was ajar. Girlish giggling wafted through the crack as he approached. He could see the arm of the chair, his wife’s hand thrown casually across the faded upholstery, half-moon welts from his fingernails purple against her pale skin.

Slowly, he placed the palm of his hand on the centre of the wooden panelled door, testing for creaks by pushing lightly until it shifted a fraction. No sound. He pushed again, making sure he was concealed behind the door jamb as the view inside the room opened to him.

His wife was reclining on the chair, her summer dress gaping at the neck revealing the slight swell of her breasts. Her head was thrown back, long, mousey hair splayed over the back of the cushions, her green eyes closed. A smile played at the corners of her lips as she ran a hand over the soft hair of her teenage son laid between her legs, his lips latched on to her dark brown nipple.

His fingers slipped inside the wrap of her dress, inexperienced hands fumbling with his mother’s soft skin. She didn’t stop him as he cupped her breast, squeezing and kneading like she was a loaf of bread.

‘Softer son. No girl likes to be treated like a piece of meat. Be gentle, loving,’ she murmured, grasping his wrist to lighten his touch.

In seconds, the door smashed fully open. Grabbing his son by the hair, he dragged him to his feet, burying a fist deep into his guts over and over again. The boy’s legs collapsed, tears welling in his eyes. His wife was on her feet, hanging on his arm, trying to stop the beating. She had no chance. She didn’t even reach his shoulder.

Oblivious to her screams, he continued to pummel the boy until his face was nothing more than a bloody pulp. Letting him go, he threw him into the chair, stepping forward to go in with the boot.

His wife threw herself down on top of the boy. It didn’t matter to him. She deserved what she got. He kicked relentlessly at his family huddled on the floor, his wife taking the brunt of the force, screams for him to stop only inflaming his anger more.

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