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THE TAXI PULLED UP outside the Ecklands’ and Leo asked the driver to keep the metre running. Paige waited in the car for news, unsure of what Leo would find inside.
Had Eckland really fallen? Why hadn’t Arlene called an ambulance?
Leo sprinted up the front garden and knocked forcefully. When no one answered, he produced a set of keys from his pocket and let himself in. Paige watched the door, wondering how long she would have to wait.
The door opened again within a few minutes, and Leo emerged, walking aimlessly, leaving the door open and sinking down onto the doorstep. His face was washed of all colour and tears crowded his eyes. Paige ran out to him.
“Leo?” She queried, kneeling down next to him. Leo didn’t say anything, just sat staring at the grass.
I have to go in...
She pushed herself up, leaving Leo on the doorstep and entered the hallway. As she stepped inside, she felt the doormat squelch beneath her shoes and looked down to see it was seeped in blood, as was most of the hardwood floor. She had suspected that something was wrong from Leo’s reaction, but she hadn’t been prepared for the carnage inside. She clutched her hand to her mouth, lips quivering against the inside of her palm.
She danced around the pools, steadying herself against the handrail to the stairs as she slipped in the viscous liquid, “Oh god...” she said as she picked her way across the tiled kitchen floor, smattered with the same ripples of blood. Only shock was halting her emotions from overflowing.
“Fuck,” she breathed, a whimper escaping from between her fingers. There was no one in the kitchen and so Paige headed back to the hall, crossing over into the living room.
The same trail of blood criss-crossed the carpet and shag piles, leading to the seating area. A noise made Paige jump backwards, knocking against the coat rack in the corner. Relief washing over here, she realised that the two usually apathetic cats weren’t in their favourite spot on the sofa – instead they were hiding, hissing at her from under it. The scare tempted shuddering sobs, which she tried to supress as she followed the house round, heading to the sunroom at the rear.
There in one of the lounge chairs, was the body of Hugh Eckland. She let out an involuntary shriek, collapsing against the doorway with wide eyes. His wrists had been slashed and resting on the cushion of the chair next to his right hand was a small knife. Paige’s eyes flitted over the scene with horror, from the mutilated wrists to the blank expression on Eckland’s face, his eyes still half open. A knife jutted out of his chest at an awkward angle. Paige had never seen something so gruesome in person and she couldn’t take it in. Reality slowed around her as she sobbed on the floor, gripping the doorframe so hard that her nails bit into the paint.
In his left hand, barely held by his loose grip, was the copy of the poem about Ella, spotted with bright red blood.
Preview of The Secret of the Oxpen’s Angel
BOOK 2
