Helen Phifer - The Girls In The Woods

Thank you to the very funny Heath Tyson who wanted a bad man named after him. I just wanted to say that the real Heath Tyson is nothing at all like his evil counterpart.

I’m for ever indebted to my lovely blogging friends, The Write Romantics. You all keep me sane and understand how tough it is once you’ve made your dream come true. Thank you so much Jo Bartlett, Julie Heslington, Jackie Ladbury, Lynne Davidson, Helen Rolfe, Alex Weston, Deirdre Palmer, Sharon Booth & Rachael Thomas.

Last but not least I’d like to say to my family that I love you all very much. It’s been a hard year but the Phifers have proved how tough and strong we are. Without you none of this would be possible and I’m so proud of you all.

Love Helen xx

Dedication Contents Cover Blurb Praise Book List Title Page Copyright Author Bio Acknowledgements Dedication Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Epilogue Excerpt Endpages About the Publisher

For Gail O’Neil, Wendy Smith, Amanda Rawlinson, Diane Sullivan, Adele Dean, Gill Tyson & all of the other fabulous ladies in the Lookin GOOD and Feelin GREAT Charity Group.

Contents

Cover

Blurb Don’t go into the woods. Because you’re in for a big surprise… In an old album there is a beautiful Victorian photo that captures three young sisters, staring silently at one another. Only the trained eye can see the truth hiding in plain view. One of the sisters is already dead. Annie Ashworth is currently off duty. With her baby bump growing fast, she is under strict instructions to stay away from police work and look after herself, especially as she has a history of leading danger right to her door. So when her police officer husband, Will, is called to the discovery of a skeleton buried out in the local woods, Annie tries to keep out of the investigation. But as another body is discovered and her own niece suddenly goes missing, staying away just isn’t an option. As Annie is soon to discover, a picture really does tell a thousand stories. But which one leads to a killer?

Praise

Book List

Title Page The Girls in the Woods Helen Phifer

Copyright

Author Bio HELEN PHIFER lives in a small town called Barrow-in-Furness with her husband and five children. She has lived in the same town since she was born. It gets some bad press but really is a lovely place to live, surrounded by coastline and not far from the Lake District, where she likes to spend at least one of her days off from work. She has always loved writing and reading and loves reading books that make the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Unable to find enough scary stories to read, she decided to write her own. You can contact or follow Helen on her blog at helenphiferblog.wordpress.com , her website at www.helenphifer.com and on Twitter, @helenphifer1 .

Acknowledgements

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Epilogue

Excerpt Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

Endpages Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

About the Publisher

Prologue

Summer 1895

The smell was always the big giveaway – no matter how many fresh flowers were placed around a room, the stench of decomposition would always seep through the cracks. Maybe not at first because the sweet scent from the roses or sweet peas, dependent upon the season, would infiltrate your nostrils with their heady fragrance, but after a few minutes you would realise that the underlying, more cloying scent wasn’t such a fragrant one after all. In fact you would more than likely wonder which flower it was that was giving off the almost too sweet, sickly smell. The black cloth covering the large ornamental mirror above the fireplace confirmed what you already knew. That this was a house of death. Upon further investigation as you looked around the room at the waiting subjects one would always stand out just that little bit more than the others; it was always the hands that would give them away. Those petite hands that had once been ivory coloured were now mottled purple and black. The rest of the body, underneath the layers of petticoats, pinafore dresses and thick tights, was probably turning the same colours – but the face you could disguise, if you worked your magic with the thick, heavy, cosmetic face powder.

The three girls were all dressed in identical long white nightgowns; the only flesh showing was their hands, necks and faces. He smiled at the two that were hovering to the side of their dead sister looking uncomfortable; he wouldn’t want to have to stand next to a dead person and smile for the camera even if it was his brother. The dead girl was on her own, standing tall in the middle of the room. He tilted his head to see if the heavy, black stand that was holding her decaying body upright could be seen but it was well hidden underneath her nightgown. Although her eyelids were closed someone had drawn open eyes on her lids so she looked as if she was still watching everyone. A life-sized, human doll that would probably be the cause of many years of nightmares for her siblings. Her mother was in the opposite corner being comforted by a much older woman. Both of them dressed all in black. He cleared his throat.

‘Should we begin?’

The girls stared at each other, both of them holding hands. It was the older woman who nodded her head. He set his tripod up and placed the heavy camera onto it; a couple of photographs and he would be done. There was a certain beauty about death that he found very attractive but he had never told anyone this; it wouldn’t be the right thing to do or say. His wife would be mortified at the thought of him enjoying photographing corpses; she hated that he did it for a living anyway, but if she knew he enjoyed it she would make him stop.