A mother’s worst fear, a killer on the loose, a darkness visible… A gripping page-turner for readers of Candice Fox and Karin Slaughter from an award-winning author
‘Explores the terrifying idea that intelligence and moral conviction can coexist with extreme violence. Chilling, smart and impossible to put down. Fans of Barrie’s Lexi Winter series, will find plenty to love in this dark, exhilarating thriller.’ – Angie Faye Martin, author of Melaleuca
Sergeant ‘Hex’ Rexford is the detective who caught the infamous serial killer Dr. Witcherton. Now, with a series of gruesome murders unfolding inside Coast Sanctuary – a hospital for the criminally insane – Witcherton claims to know who’s behind them. Hex takes the case, determined to uncover the truth, even as his own body is failing him.
Beth Thompson is desperate to keep her children safe. Her violent ex is stalking her, her son’s behaviour is growing strange, and his beloved teddy bear, Theo, might be more than just a toy. When an elderly woman offers Beth a remote cottage, it feels like a chance to breathe – but safety is an illusion.
Meanwhile, true crime podcasters Eve and Zane are chasing the story of the murders. But as Eve edges closer to the truth, the danger closes in.
As past and present collide, and the body count rises, the threads connecting them all begin to tighten – and something terrifying is watching from the dark.
Tuesday, September 9
Dr Elaine Davett stumbled into her hallway, her hands trembling as she secured the deadbolt on the front door. She leant against its solid frame, her ears straining for the slightest sound, for any indication she’d been followed.
Nothing.
She forced herself to take a deep, calming breath and exhaled, collecting her thoughts before pulling her phone from her bag and dialling a number. Voicemail. Damn it. She left a message.
‘It’s Elaine. I’m going to disappear for a while. You should think about doing the same. You have my number. Be careful.’
A car cruised past the front window and she froze, her pulse scattering, but it continued down the street.
Kicking off her work heels, she crossed the lounge into the kitchen to pour herself a scotch and steady her shaking fingers. She tossed the drink back, felt the burn down her throat. Pack. She had to pack. She thumped the glass on the counter and strode to the bedroom, dragged her suitcase from the wardrobe and wondered what to put in it. How long would she be gone? Would it ever be safe to return? Just the basics, she told herself, and threw in clothes, chargers, her passport—where was it? Her laptop was in the other room. Couldn’t forget that. Toiletries. She walked into the bathroom. Her toothbrush, hairbrush …
A shadow moved. A vice-like grip clamped over her face. Terror surged through her as the sharp sting of a syringe was plunged into her neck.
She fought hard. Writhed. Scratched. Gouged. She had to shake that steel-like grip, get free, get …
***
She awoke, but the effort to open her eyes was immense. Her thoughts were muddled, her vision swayed. She tried to move, couldn’t. Thin restraints bit into her wrists and ankles.
How? What? Why?
Her senses slowly, too slowly, started to return.
A soft whisper of movement reached her ears, followed by a tinkling of metal. She lifted her head and struggled to make sense of the sound. The figure at the side of her bed wavered, edges shifting and blurring as it turned slowly. In its hands, two long, glinting spikes caught the light. Then came the voice, distorted and distant, yet chillingly familiar.
‘Hello, Dr Davett.’
The drug’s haze vanished in an instant. Confusion exploded into desperate, mortal terror. ‘No,’ she croaked, her voice barely a whisper, raw and broken. ‘No, no, please …’
He stepped in close, his proximity bringing into focus the manic excitement in his eyes. He set down the spikes. ‘We’ll get to those,’ he murmured and picked up a scalpel. ‘First, I need your eyes.’
She thrashed against the restraints, heart hammering, limbs useless. ‘Please, I only ever tried to help you.’
He leant down, his lips brushing her ear, his voice laced with elation. ‘It didn’t work.’
CHAPTER ONE
Beth
Wednesday, September 10
Beth Thompson pinned her phone to her ear as she grabbed her water bottle, pocketed the keys and stepped out of the golf buggy—her usual transport around the landscaped grounds of Eucalypt Ridge Retirement Village. The over-55s lifestyle village was too vast for walking. Her old Samsung Galaxy only worked on speaker, thanks to her youngest child jamming the headphone jack, so she kept the volume low as the man on the other end continued.
‘She just didn’t seem herself at all.’
A small group of potential residents and their families hovered nearby, listening as village manager Joleen Ferguson led a tour. Thanks to the woman’s surname, warden-like expression and ironclad approach to rules, staff had taken to calling her ‘the Freak’, after a well-known 80s TV show character. Beth had never come across a nickname so perfectly suited to anyone. Today, though, the Freak’s voice carried nothing but word-for-word, brochure-perfect, practised warmth.
‘As you can see, Eucalypt Ridge is truly a world of its own. Residents enjoy spacious villas and tailored care. Our prime location here in Kariong means public transport is nearby, and the shopping village right next door offers easy access to groceries and cafés. Plus, our gated community provides peace of mind with a twenty-four-hour emergency response system, while our on-site medical centre ensures health care is always available.’
All true, Beth thought, but even the best care couldn’t entirely ease the worries of loving relatives such as the one currently on the phone. She stepped further away, trying not to disrupt the Freak’s pitch. ‘I’ve just arrived now, Brett,’ she reassured him quietly. ‘I’ll get to the bottom of it.’
‘I know she loves it there, but if I can’t get this transfer I’m after, I might need to move her down to Adelaide to be closer to us,’ Brett said. ‘It’s a big move for her, but I just can’t visit enough. I shouldn’t have taken this position so far away.’
‘From what I’ve heard, she’s very proud of what you’re doing down there,’ Beth said kindly.
‘I’m flying up this weekend with my wife, Ellie, and I thought we’d surprise her. We’re all coming. Bringing our new daughter along—Mum hasn’t met her yet. Money’s tight, but we’ll figure it out.’
‘She’ll love that! She spends all her time looking at the photos you upload to her Google Hub.’
‘Is Jason with her now?’
‘Yes, his car’s here,’ Beth confirmed, a sinking feeling in her stomach.
‘Good. He’ll get it sorted.’
Beth had her doubts, but she ended the call politely. Her phone buzzed again almost immediately. She checked the name. Ignored it. Forcing a smile, she navigated around an elderly couple blocking the path.
‘Of course, the heart of Eucalypt Ridge,’ the Freak continued, spotting Beth, ‘is its social life. We have countless activities and amenities designed to keep loneliness at bay and spirits high. Outings, social events, hobby clubs and fitness classes keep everyone engaged. And we’re lucky to have Elizabeth Thompson—Beth—who has just joined us. You may have seen yesterday’s paper; she was recognised with a Community Impact Award for her remarkable contributions to resident care.’
Shit. Beth veered reluctantly off course, forcing another smile as she greeted the group.
‘As both an occupational therapist and events manager, Beth doesn’t just plan and organise activities, she lives them, ensuring every detail is perfect and the fun never stops,’ the Freak said with enthusiasm.
Beth cringed, but yes, this work was her passion. Though she’d only held temporary positions until now, she was pouring her heart into it, hoping to secure the permanent role due to be advertised in the next few weeks.
She paused for some friendly conversation, then excused herself and continued to Mary’s villa as her phone kicked off again. Again, she ignored it, but the constant bombardment was fraying her nerves.
As she reached Mary’s doorway, she heard Jason’s voice.
‘You’re imagining it! Or your damn hearing aids are playing up or something. No one trying to break in is going to ring the doorbell first! Besides, this is the most secure and expensive place on the damn planet! Do you know how much trouble Brett has been giving me because you keep calling him over this? I can’t come out here every five minutes!’
‘I’m sorry for being a bother, Jason. It’s not intentional.’ Mary’s voice sounded weak and defeated.
‘Do you want them to put you in the loony ward? Is that what you want? Have you considered how much more expensive that would be?’
‘I don’t know … but if I do need more care, I have money from selling my house. Brett made sure it was invest—’
‘Did you ever think about leaving some of that for us? Or is it all about you?’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to spend it all.’
Beth’s heart sank at the pain in Mary’s voice. As her phone buzzed yet again, she told herself she’d had more than enough of arseholes for one morning. She stepped inside, noting the crushed expression on her patient’s face as she sat in her favourite armchair.
‘Mary! Hello!’ she called, projecting warmth. ‘How’s my favourite client this morning?’
Mary’s face lit up, though her smile was a little wobbly. ‘Oh, hello, Beth!’
Beth’s gaze slid coldly to Mary’s youngest son and her shoulders tensed reflexively—a habit born from years of keeping herself safe around men who raised their voices. ‘Jason.’
He stepped back, looking slightly embarrassed. ‘Yeah, hi.’ Coward, she thought, turning back to Mary and feeling his eyes burning into her back. ‘I just got off the phone with Brett. He’s coming up tomorrow, so don’t you worry about a thing.’ And because Mary looked just that upset, she added, ‘He’s got a surprise for you! It’s a really lovely one, but I promised not to tell you what it is, so you’ll have to wait and see. You’re very lucky to have a son who loves you so much—’ She flinched as the door banged shut.
Mary’s eyes followed the movement sadly. ‘He’s under a lot of stress at work. And I think his girlfriend broke up with him.’
Beth smiled gently. ‘I sometimes wonder if kids ever stop taking their moods out on their parents. My son had a complete existential meltdown last week because I bought him a pair of soccer boots and one of the shoelaces was—indecipherably, to me—a lighter red than the other. This was my fault, apparently. Didn’t talk to me for hours. He thought that was punishment. It was bliss.’
Mary chuckled, some of the sadness lifting from her features.
‘So,’ Beth said, ‘what’s been going on?’
‘The doorbell keeps ringing, but every time I get up to answer it, there’s nobody there!’
Beth pressed the button. The regular little tune played. Mary’s frown deepened.
‘Something wrong?’ Beth asked.
‘It doesn’t sound quite right.’
Beth pressed it again.
Mary shook her head. ‘I think … Oh, I’m muddled. That is my doorbell sound. But …’
‘It’s okay,’ Beth said. ‘Let’s find your phone so you can call me if it happens again.’
‘New-fangled thing Brett got Jason to get me. I can’t work it.’
Beth picked up the older phone from the counter. Likely swapped out by Jason for the paid-for-by-Brett new one. She’d leave that for Brett. As she held the phone, it came to life.
‘Oh, there’s the damn door now!’ Mary exclaimed.
Beth smiled. ‘That’s not the doorbell. That’s your phone ringing.’ ‘What? That’s not my old phone sound …’
‘It’s different on this phone. Here, it’s Brett. Press the button there.’
After the call, Beth changed the ringtone to something less misleading.
Mary laughed, teary relief in her eyes. ‘Oh, I really thought I was losing it. Brett was so relieved! I think he thought I’d lost it too.’
‘Hard to believe! You’re sharp as a tack.’
‘I’m so grateful for you. Oh— I saw the newspaper!’ She rustled some items on the table beside her, then slipped the newspaper out from under her teacup. It was open to the page featuring a photo of Beth with some of the residents, holding her award, the caption listing her name and the award, and noted residents Rose Thornton, Mary Smith and others congratulating her.
‘It’s a lovely photo of all of us together,’ Mary said, smiling at it.
Was it? Beth’s heart sank as she examined it. She looked … awful. She hadn’t known the award was such a big deal—certainly hadn’t thought she’d win it—so she’d come straight from work. And there she was, her limp, mousy-brown hair in its everyday ponytail, several escaped strands clinging messily to her temple. Make-up free, her skin looked pale and dull under the harsh lighting, and the oversized, shapeless polo and straight black work pants were anything but flattering. At least the photo cropped out her scuffed joggers. She looked like a bland mess next to the older women flanking her in their bright spring clothing. The stranger staring back at her was so unlike the woman she used to be, Beth barely recognised herself. How had she become that?
Thirteen years of Byron, her mind whispered. That’s how. He’d sucked the life out of her. And it showed.
A mother’s worst fear, a killer on the loose, a darkness visible… A gripping page-turner for readers of Candice Fox and Karin Slaughter from an award-winning author