What the Shadows Hide (DI Ridpath Crime Thriller Book 9)

What the Shadows Hide Cover Title Page Dedication Sunday, August 24, 2008 Thursday, June 17. Modern Day. Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Friday, June 18 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 Saturday, June 19 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 Sunday, June 20 Chapter Forty-one Chapter Forty-two Chapter Forty-three Chapter Forty-four Chapter Forty-five Chapter Forty-six Chapter Forty-seven Chapter Forty-eight Monday, June 21 Chapter Fifty Chapter Fifty-one Chapter Fifty-two Chapter Fifty-three Chapter Fifty-four Chapter Fifty-five Chapter Fifty-six Chapter Fifty-seven Tuesday, June 22 Chapter Fifty-nine Chapter Sixty Chapter Sixty-one Chapter Sixty-two Chapter Sixty-three Chapter Sixty-four Chapter Sixty-five Chapter Sixty-six Chapter Sixty-seven Chapter Sixty-eight Chapter Sixty-nine Chapter Seventy Wednesday, June 23 Chapter Seventy-two Chapter Seventy-three Chapter Seventy-four Chapter Seventy-five Chapter Seventy-six Chapter Seventy-seven Chapter Seventy-eight Chapter Seventy-nine Chapter Eighty Chapter Eighty-one Chapter Eighty-two Chapter Eighty-three Chapter Eighty-four Thursday, June 24 Chapter Eighty-six Chapter Eighty-seven Chapter Eighty-eight Chapter Eighty-nine Chapter Ninety Chapter Ninety-one Chapter Ninety-two Friday, June 25 Chapter Ninety-four Chapter Ninety-five Chapter Ninety-six Chapter Ninety-seven Chapter Ninety-eight Chapter Ninety-nine Chapter One Hundred Chapter One Hundred and One Chapter One Hundred and Two Chapter One Hundred and Three Chapter One Hundred and Four Two Weeks Later. Canelo Crime About the Author Also by M J Lee Copyright Cover Table of Contents Start of Content For Mike and Janet. Enjoy Sunday, August 24, 2008 Chapter OneHe knew he was near death.He’d seen his grandmother standing in the corner of the room hiding in the shadows, beckoning him to join her, waving as she always did with her right hand, saying, ‘Come along, hurry up, why are you always so late?’And then she had gone.Vanished.He shook his head, trying to clear it. Was he seeing things or was this all real?The heat was unbearable. A dry, coarse heat that made his throat rasp like sandpaper as he tried to swallow whatever saliva remained in his parched mouth.He tried to raise his head from the mattress laid over the wooden floor, but gave up when the effort became too much. Next to him, his sister lay, her hands clasped in front of her as if in prayer.What had they done to deserve this?He inched his head towards her lips, listening for the sounds of life, but there were none. She hadn’t moved for a long time.Was she still alive?He doubted it. He heard no breathing. No whimpers. No cries of pain.Nothing.He wasn’t sure how long they had been in this room. A small window high up in the apex where the wall met the roof was the only source of light during the day. The candle had been used very quickly, too quickly.At first, they had been certain someone would come for them, shouting at the tops of their voices for hours on end, finishing the bottle of water far too quickly.But there had been no response, no cavalry arriving, no knight in shining armour to rescue them. The person who had locked them away was no longer there, no longer cared.The days had passed, or were they mere hours?Sleeping and waking.Sleeping and waking.Sleeping and waking.Losing all track of time and themselves. Hunger and thirst gnawing at their bodies, drowning their souls.She had been full of energy at the beginning, urging him to force open the door with his bare hands.He had tried tugging at the handle, beating on it with his fists, clawing at the solid wood, losing his fingernails, the door still intact at the end of hours of struggle.She had lapsed into silence then. A zombie-like state, staring into the distance, her eyes unfocused, cradling the empty bottle of water like one would a baby.Through their chapped lips, they had talked about their memories of childhood lived in two different places.For him it was a day tobogganing with the neighbours when he was eleven on some slopes out near Alderley Edge. The neighbour was German and she knew exactly what to do, teaching her son and him all the ways of making the sledge go faster.He never saw the boy again, his family moved away soon after to live in Hale and never came back.For her it was a first kiss. A fevered, wet exchange of spit behind the bleachers at her school, the boy boasting to his friends later he’d ‘had’ her.It had been embarrassing when his sister had decided she needed the toilet. He had turned his back when she used the bucket in the corner that had been provided. Nothing came of course, there was nothing left to come.Later, after his sister had lain down, he had tried to scratch a message into the plaster with the cap of the water bottle.But his mind could not focus, his strength was diminished, he couldn’t form any words, couldn’t even work out what to write.After hours of effort, all he had to show were a few meaningless scratches, half-formed words, unformed ideas.Before she fell asleep, his sister had stared longingly at the empty bottle of liquid placed next to the feathers she had brought with her.A bluebottle had disturbed him when he was sleeping, buzzing around his head. Had it been incarcerated with them? The three locked away in their own version of hell?He had spent hours trying to catch it, but without luck. Each time he thought he had it, it would dart away, just out of reach.He could hear it now, as he lay there, his sister dying or dead next to him. Buzzing up in the rafters, trying to find a way out.There was no exit. He had tried to shout but the words wouldn’t form in his throat, the bluebottle would never hear them.He wasn’t going to last much longer, he knew that.Hadn’t his grandmother already