Body in the Woods (Carlos Jacobi Book 1) Read online

  Body in the Woods

  Dawn Brookes

  Contents

  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

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Also by Dawn Brookes

  Memoirs

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed are the work of the author’s imagination except for those in the public domain. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Although real-life places are depicted in settings, all situations and people related to those places are fictional.

  DAWN BROOKES asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this Work. All rights reserved in all media. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author and/or publisher.

  Hardback Edition 2020

  Kindle Edition 2020

  Paperback ISBN: 978-1-913065-24-9

  Hardback: 978-1-913065-25-6

  Copyright © DAWN BROOKES 2020

  Cover Images: Dog AdobeStockImages/© Даша Швецова Man: AdobeStockImages/© sanderstock

  Cover Design: Janet Dado

  Be Strong

  1

  Fifty-five years of marriage and he’d not once been late for a meal. Meg stared wearily through the window. The streetlights blinked on the pavement and the darkening sky now reflected her mood.

  She paced the floor for the umpteenth time, finding herself once more at the back of the lounge-dining room. Her trembling hands hovered over the two cold dinners neatly placed on decorated table mats. Should I clear them away? What would he say if he found cold food on the table? She shook, not knowing what to do.

  ‘Where are you, Harold?’ The empty walls ignored her quietly spoken, tremulous words.

  Seven, and the cuckoo burst from her husband’s clock, screaming loud and incessant, making her jump. Tears burned the back of her eyes. Anxiety threatened to overwhelm her.

  ‘Don’t cry, Meg. Crying gets us nowhere.’ She imagined her husband’s sharp voice chastising her as he always did whenever she showed a trace of emotion. But where was he? If only he would chastise her now. She snatched at the phone for the second time, desperate to call the police, but then remembered the dismissive voice of the desk sergeant she had spoken to earlier. Was it only two hours since she’d placed hot dinners on the table? Only one hour since she had called the police?

  Harold Sissons was never late. She had explained this to the sergeant after insisting she was put through to someone in authority following a conversation with a girl whose disinterest had caused Meg to raise her voice. Something she never did.

  The sergeant had responded with the same degree of condescension as the girl who answered before him.

  ‘Look, madam. He’s only been missing for an hour, that hardly counts as late in my book.’ To make matters worse, he’d laughed, clearly not understanding her distress. When she hadn’t responded to his inappropriate attempt at humour, he had sighed and continued. ‘He’s probably stopped by the shops, gone to the pub, dropped in at the bookies.’

  ‘We live in a village, and my husband doesn’t gamble, Sergeant. And he wouldn’t go to the pub without letting me know, or to the shops, for that matter.’ Or would he? she thought.

  ‘You keep him on a tight leash, then?’ The sergeant’s tone infuriated Meg.

  ‘Sergeant, my husband is missing. Do. You. Hear. Me? He hasn’t come home, his dinner’s gone cold on the table, and I’m telling you again. HE IS NEVER LATE!’

  ‘Have you tried calling him?’

  ‘Of course I have.’ You stupid man, remained unsaid. The tension in her hand as she gripped the phone tighter translated into her voice and her head ached as she fought to remain calm. ‘He’s left his mobile phone behind; he must have forgotten it.’

  ‘And is that out of character?’

  ‘Yes, it is, as a matter of fact.’ Meg tried to control a cold chill sitting on her stomach.

  ‘There you are, then. He’s having an out of character day. He’ll be home soon, I’m sure.’ Meg detected the smug tone in his triumphant explanation and wasn’t sure whether she could also hear a girl giggling in the background.

  ‘HE WILL NOT!’ She was shouting for the second time in a matter of minutes. The anger caused her to shake. I mustn’t lose control; Harold wouldn’t like that.

  The sergeant had briefly hesitated; she imagined him weighing up whether she was a lunatic or whether to take her seriously.

  ‘Madam, why don’t you ring round his friends and ask if they know where he is? Someone will have seen him. Do you have any family you can call?’

  ‘I am not acquainted with my husband’s friends. He would have been at the community centre this afternoon for their weekly lecture, and then he would come straight home. As for my daughter and son-in-law, they have a lot on their plates presently. I can’t call them.’ She neglected to say that her daughter hadn’t spoken to her father in twenty years.

  ‘The only other thing I can suggest for now is that you phone the local hospitals in case he’s been involved in an accident. If he doesn’t come home later, give me a call back and I’ll send someone round to get a description. I’m sure he’ll turn up.’ The sergeant’s tone had turned more serious and she was grateful that he’d finally got the message.

  After ending the call, she had phoned all the local hospitals, but her husband had not been admitted to any of them. She deliberated walking up to the village church to find the vicar, who would have seen Harold that afternoon, but she knew Harold wouldn’t like that. He’d think she was checking up on him. Should she call the vicar’s wife? She was always kind.

  As Meg stared again at the telephone in her hand, she wondered if an hour constituted ‘later’. What the heck? She dialled the number, asking to be put through to the desk sergeant.

  While she was waiting for the police to arrive, a feeling of dread caused her to go lightheaded as she sat beside the window, staring out into the dark wintry night once more.

  2

  The queues of traffic sprawling across all three lanes of the motorway finally moved, and within minutes, the car was back up to seventy miles per hour. Seeing no obvious reason for the delay, Carlos Jacobi was just happy to be making headway. Inexplicable delays were not unusual on the M1 motorway, but that didn’t make them any less frustrating. The traffic had been snarled up for over forty minutes.

  A huge ball of late afternoon sun produced an unwelcome glare, making it difficult to see clearly as he continued northwards. He was already running late. Darkness soon replaced daylight and he kept his distance behind a stack of taillights, finall
y arriving at his turnoff and heading northwest into the Derbyshire countryside. Thirty minutes later, he pulled up on to a large gravelled driveway as the sound of rain tapped out a melody on the roof of his pride and joy, an ancient refurbished Ford Capri.

  ‘Wake up, Lady, we’re here.’ His three-year-old liver-and-white English Springer Spaniel immediately leapt up and whined. He stroked her head before opening the car door. She didn’t wait to be let out the passenger side, but flew after him, diving through the driver’s door and, with one swift movement, she stood by his side, tail wagging furiously.

  ‘Looks like you’re as pleased to get out of the car as I am, girl.’ Carlos bent down and rubbed her head.

  The dog let out a small bark before bounding around the car to find a patch of lawn off to one side of the low-walled front garden where she relieved herself.

  The front door of the cottage flew open and Sophie rushed out.

  ‘Where have you been? I expected you hours ago.’ His younger sister looked well, a five-foot-six rounded bundle of energy. Light from the hallway shone on to the now soaking wet drive where heavy rain bounced off the gravel. He rushed over to embrace her and kissed her on both cheeks.

  ‘Sorry, I was late leaving London and got stuck in traffic three times, the worst lot south of Derby.’ Following the greeting, he raced back out to the car and pulled his suitcase from the boot. As he was locking the boot by hand, he almost jumped at the figure of an anxious older woman, her face drawn with tension, staring through the bay window from the cottage next door. Recovering, he smiled, but she didn’t smile back. Her haunting stare sent a shiver down his spine.

  Carlos broke eye contact and headed indoors with Lady close to his heels. His lively companion soon made herself at home, running enthusiastically around the living room, excitement overwhelming her. He stopped to admire his sister. As her big brown eyes looked at him affectionately and her round face broke into a huge grin, his heart melted.

  ‘You’re looking good, Sophie, and wow! What about this?’ His arm extended to envelop the large open-plan lounge-diner. ‘A bit bigger than your last place.’ Carlos took in his surroundings. Sophie had married in the spring and she and her husband, Gary, had moved six months ago into their first owned home: a large detached cottage on the edge of the village. It was the first time Carlos had visited their new place in Peak Hollow.

  ‘Thank you. We love it here. The cottage is just what I’ve always wanted; plenty of space and room for a family.’

  Carlos’s mouth dropped open.

  ‘No, Carlos. I’m not pregnant. Yet. But we would like children in a few years’ time. You know I love kids.’

  ‘When they come along, I’m sure they’ll be wonderful. I can’t wait to see little Sophies running around the place. By the way, where’s Gary?’

  ‘Working late as usual,’ she sighed. ‘You men are all the same.’

  ‘Whoa! That’s so sexist, Sophie. And as you well know, in this particular man’s case, Rachel works as much, if not more than I do.’

  ‘I stand corrected. Just a figure of speech; he’ll be home soon, anyway.’

  His sister walked through to the kitchen and put the coffee percolator on. Carlos followed. The interior contrasted with the property’s age and was tastefully decorated with fashionable ash-grey paint and smart laminate flooring, now covered in muddy pawprints. He grimaced.

  The expansive tile-floored kitchen was dominated by an island in the centre with a table in a recess. He parked himself on a stool at the island while his sister made coffee, feeling at home immediately. He and Sophie had always been close. It didn’t matter that they lived a hundred and sixty miles apart, he would make the effort to see her. They were the only two of their family still living in England. Their parents and older brothers had moved back to Florence in Italy while Sophie was at university, and Carlos felt responsible for his baby sister, even though she was only a few years younger than him at twenty-six. Now she was married it was different, but he had promised his parents he would always take care of her, and this duty – albeit more of a pleasure – he took seriously.

  ‘How is Rachel? It’s such a shame she can’t join us.’ Sophie’s voice pulled him from his reverie.

  ‘She’s good. Working too hard, as usual. On nights right up to New Year. After that, she moves to London, so I’m not complaining. I’m hoping to nip up to Leeds while I’m here to take her out for a Christmas celebration before one of her shifts.’

  Carlos’s heart pounded as it always did when he thought about the woman he’d been dating for just over a year. Sometimes the love he felt for her threatened to overwhelm him. Rachel worked as police officer and they had met on a cruise ship when he was working two cases. Rachel’s beauty had distracted him from the moment they met, and as it turned out, she was the one who had saved the elderly woman he was supposed to be protecting.

  He reached into his rucksack and brought out a dog bowl. ‘Would you mind filling this? Lady needs a drink.’

  Sophie took the bowl and filled it before setting it down on the floor. Lady gulped the water down as if she hadn’t drunk in days and almost finished the bowl, dribbling water on to the pristine white tiles.

  ‘Yuck! Is she always this messy?’

  ‘Only when she’s thirsty,’ he laughed. ‘Dogs are always thirstier after car travel, it seems; either that or she’s showing off.’ Carlos unpacked another bowl from his rucksack and pulled a bag of dried dog food from his suitcase before filling that too and laying it on the floor. ‘Sorry about the mucky pawprints.’

  They were interrupted by the front door opening. Sophie’s eyes lit up again as she ran through to the lounge. Carlos followed.

  ‘About time too!’ She hugged the tall, wiry Gary who leaned down to kiss her. His sister was a whirlwind and was well and truly besotted with this most unlikely of matches.

  ‘Sorry, Soph. We have to finish the project before the Christmas break.’ He smiled down at her.

  Carlos coughed.

  ‘Hello, Carlos, I saw the Capri. She’s looking good. Welcome to Peaks Hollow. How do you like our new home?’ Gary shook Carlos’s hand. He was the exact opposite of Sophie: a reserved Englishman, tall and lanky compared to her, but it was obvious the man adored his wife as much as she did him.

  ‘Love it. I approve of the choice. Almost on the edge of the village, too. It beats London flats, that’s for sure.’

  ‘And this must be Lady.’ Gary bent down to stroke the excited dog who was running circles around him, flicking his legs with her tail.

  ‘That’s her, and she likes you, so that’s a good sign.’ Carlos laughed as Gary cautiously stroked her belly while she rolled on to her back, keeping enough distance not to allow dog hairs to meet his neatly pressed trousers, Carlos noticed.

  The happy trio retired to the kitchen and chatted excitedly. Lady settled down at Carlos’s feet.

  ‘What are you working on that’s so urgent it can’t wait until after the festive season?’ Carlos asked.

  ‘Come on, Carlos, you know better than to ask him about his work,’ Sophie scolded.

  Gary worked for Rolls Royce in Derby as a scientific development manager and Carlos knew his work was highly confidential, but that wouldn’t stop him asking. Industrial espionage was a real threat in big business, according to his brother-in-law. ‘All I can say is it’s something very exciting and we have to finish stage one by Christmas Eve.’

  Carlos raised an eyebrow. ‘Electric cars are old news, you know.’

  Gary jumped. ‘No-one has seen the likes of this project. It’s groundbreaking, and I didn’t say it was a car.’

  Carlos grinned widely and shot a smug look Sophie’s way.

  ‘Don’t be irritating, Carlos, and don’t imagine for one minute you know what my husband’s working on.’ Sophie frowned. ‘Anyway, what about you? Any exciting cases lately?’

  ‘Not exactly, but I am still wrapping one up – another reason I chose Derbyshire for Christmas
.’

  ‘That’s so flattering, brother. Did you hear that, Lady? He’s going to make you work over Christmas.’ Sophie appeared to be warming to having a dog around and knelt to stroke Lady’s ears. The spaniel’s eyes were as big and brown as Sophie’s; it brought a smile to Carlos’s face seeing the two girls gazing adoringly at each other. ‘That’s the real reason you’re not in Leeds.’ It was his sister’s turn to look smug. The easy banter came automatically whenever they were together.

  ‘Life’s never dull for a private detective; you understand that, Sophie. I miss your help, to be honest, so I’ve had to take on a new guy.’

  ‘Remind me I need to speak to you about something important later.’

  Carlos raised his eyebrows quizzically, but Sophie’s attention was now taken up with chopping vegetables.

  ‘Anything we can help you with, bro?’ asked Gary, pouring himself a coffee from the percolator.

  Did you just call me bro? Carlos’s eyebrows hit the ceiling. Although a geeky scientist, his brother-in-law showed a keen interest in Carlos’s work. Gary wouldn’t have the stamina or the stomach to deal with the things he got involved with, though.

  ‘I’ll let you know if I need anything, but I’m hoping it will be over in a few days so we can enjoy Christmas.’

  Gary kissed Sophie on the head. ‘I’ll take a quick shower, then I can help you.’