THREE COLD CASES ONE DETERMINED COP
Someone’s playing tricks on Karen at home and at work. When two cold case files about missing girls turn up on her desk, she’s fuming. When a third file arrives…
she blows a fuse.
Her boss demands she takes holiday leave just as Karen discovers her late father was involved in one of the cases. Now she’s compelled to investigate them.
Karen’s accompanied by sometime boyfriend John- but can she trust him or his friend and mapkeeper Mr Binks?
She has formidable detective skills but will they work in places where old-world magic is still powerful?
Karen’s life is in serious danger… but from whom…. or what?
Detective Sergeant Karen Thorpe, outside, in the dark of a cold evening, flattened her slender frame against the brick wall and edged towards the corner. Holding her breath so as not to give herself away, she risked a quick peek. They’re there.
Her finger gently held her charged pistol close to her side. Timing was everything.
She counted to herself. One…two…three… she pounced.
‘Hold it right there!’ she shouted. ‘Hand’s up!’
Her prey, looking terrified, did as they were told.
‘Back there!’ Karen nodded her head the way she had just come and watched as her subjects obeyed her command.
‘Pick it up now, or I shoot!’
‘You’re mad,’ the little girl said.
‘Shush.’ The boy replied as he picked up the sweet wrapper and put it in the litter bin. ‘We’ll get her later,’ he whispered.
‘What did you say?’ Karen stepped forward, holding her water pistol with menace. She fired. ‘Take that you little beasts, and don’t let me see you around here again.’
The children ran off giving her finger gestures as they went. Karen smiled at her success and went back into her apartment building. At least she’d had a tiny bit of action…
…Settling down in her flat, she began knocking back the wine, while watching the latest talent show. Unfortunately for her, it was at that stage where more of the show was about the contestants’ background than their performing ability. She preferred the thrill of the voting and especially the more vicious comments from the judges.
Ignoring the inevitable It’s my dream gush, Karen looked behind the bum-fluffed teenage lad to see some rather lovely background scenery. It reminded her that there was something that she had been putting off for far too long. She had inherited her late father’s house and had no idea what to do with it. Could she sell it and find something nicer?
Her fingers scrabbled towards her tablet – a new feature in her life and a present from John.
Finding the website ‘Homes 4 U’ she typed in rural and began to browse. Almost immediately one particular house popped up. It was newish-looking in a so-called desirable semi-rural location in Lincoln. The Robin Estate.
A flickering of the lights alerted her to a small power surge. When she looked back at her tablet it was on screen saver mode, but pressing the button an image appeared.
‘Blimey,’ she said out loud. ‘How cute’. On the screen, she saw a country lane, and standing in the middle was a little girl wearing a pretty layered party dress. She was waving as if she’d seen the camera coming. Karen rarely had time for children but this girl looked so happy. And very old-fashioned. Must take a screenshot. I could put it on Wonder Web in the morning.
About The Author
Jane writes novels, short stories and poems, usually with a good dose of humour in them. She’s probably owes it all to her late grandmother who, she’s just found out, also wrote short stories and poems. She tends to get an idea and then run with it whether it be a 100 word short story or an 80 thousand word novel. It all depends on the voices in her head at the time…
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