The Curse of Abbey Ruins: The Duology (E-Books #1-2)

A small town with a dark secret.

Trevor’s life was shattered two months ago when his only daughter disappeared in the Abbey Ruins; a vast expanse of wilderness that locals prefer not to talk about.

With the sole suspect being released in a matter of days due to a lack of evidence, Trevor and his long-time friend take it upon themselves to search for clues the detectives failed to find.

However, the further they trek into the woods, the more Trevor hears and sees things he shouldn't.

Will it be clues he finds or something much darker?

Chapter 1:

A knot tied in Trevor’s empty stomach as firm knuckles met the door. The knock was familiar and stirred up a flurry of emotions. He glanced over to his wife, Michelle, who had worn the same expressionless face for the past eight hellish weeks.

Being closest to the window, Trevor peeked through the blinds and, as suspected, two men in suits stood on the porch. But something was wrong. Their faces looked troubled, concerned even. A strong sense of dread suddenly filled his stomach as his mind indulged in dark thoughts.

“Who is it?” Michelle broke the silence.

“Lewis and Gerald.”

“Wh-what do you think they want?” she leaned forward on the sofa.

“I don’t know, honey. Stay here, I’ll get the door.”

As he approached the front door and the moving shadows shimmering behind it, his steps grew heavy. Almost as though they were warning him about something. Cautiously, he pulled it open, inviting a cold breeze in the process.

“Detectives,” Trevor mustered up a limp smile.

“Mr. McDonald,” Detective Lewis nodded.

“Trevor, is your wife in?” Gerald asked.

“Yes, why? What’s happened? Have you heard any news?”

“You mind if we come in?”

Trevor took a backward step and pulled the door as far as its hinges would allow, prompting the detectives to enter the gloomy hallway adorned by photos of Trevor, Michelle, and a young girl with mousey brown hair.

“Honey, Lewis and Gerald want to speak to us,” Trevor led the detectives into the living room which was cramped thanks to two large sofas, an armchair, and a hefty coffee table.

Michelle leaped to her feet, ignoring Gerald’s pleas to sit down instead. “What’s happened? Why are you here?”

Trevor hasted to her side, comforting the tremors of her small, malnourished frame. It had been weeks since she last had a proper meal and a good night’s sleep.

“I really don’t know the best way to go about telling you this.” Gerald paused. “Billy Brooker is going to be released at the end of this week. Friday, to be exact.”

Just as he finished his sentence, Michelle collapsed to her knees and belted out a cry that could only belong to a grieving mother. Trevor knelt down, wrapping both arms around her quivering shell and cradled her the best he could. He looked up in anguish at the detectives. “What do you mean he’s being released this Friday? He’s the fucking prime suspect, how could you!”

Detective Gerald raised his hands in a surrendering motion. “Trevor, ma’am, I will never truly know the pain you’re going through, but believe me when I say this: I feel just as wronged as you do. But the fact that we haven’t found any sign of Lucy yet has really shot down our chances of a successful prosecution. You have to see it from that angle.”

“But he kept talking about Lucy –– almost smugly! And the woods. It’s all there in your interviews, detective. Why is that not enough?”

“The problem is, he hasn’t actually confessed to the crime itself. Even if he did, the judge would require evidence and there just isn’t any. Until we find your daughter or discover something that can directly tie Billy Brooker to her disappearance, we have to let him go. I know it’s painful—”

“Save it!” Trevor interrupted. “My daughter disappears off the face of the earth and the prime suspect of the case is to be freed this fucking Friday, and all will be forgotten. This is wrong! Can’t you see what this is doing to our family? Look!” he pointed down to his grieving wife.

Gerald looked at Trevor the same way he looks at himself most days; well, if you’d have taken care of her in the first place, then none of this would be happening. Evidence or no evidence, Billy Brooker was the man responsible, Trevor was convinced of it. He continued to cradle his sobbing wife. “Well, don’t just stand there, go and find our daughter before that crook gets out of jail!”

Detective Lewis finally stepped into the conversation. “Mr. McDonald, we appreciate––”

“Don’t!”

“Look, we will keep looking for her, but you have to understand that we’ve searched the Abbey Ruins high and low. It’s a vast stretch of woods.”

“Search again! It’s been two months. Two fucking months since my sweet baby girl went missing. Do you understand what that feels like? To have your little six-year-old princess vanish and presumed dead? All while some sick man in your jail keeps toying with us!”

“Why is this happening to us? Why? What have we done so wrong to deserve all this? We weren’t bad parents, were we?” Michelle stared through her draping brown hair at Trevor with glossed-over eyes.

Detective Gerald knelt down by their side. “I promise you, I will do all I can to keep that son of a bitch behind bars. Rest assured that if he is responsible, he won’t be out for long.” He put his hands on their shoulders before retrieving a business card from his shirt pocket. “You know where I am if you need me. I’m sorry for the bad news. I truly am.”

In a matter of seconds, the detectives left the house, shutting the door quietly behind them. The small family home, once so happy, returned to its familiar gloom. A cloud so thick and toxic, it was suffocating.

Trevor tightened his grip around Michelle and kissed her baking forehead.

“What are we going to do?” she sniffled.

He didn’t know. He no longer had the answers or words to lift their grief-stricken spirits.

“I miss her, Trevor. I miss our little Lucy.”

He steered her head towards his chest, “Me too, honey. No way is that sick man walking free on Friday. If the detectives can’t find our baby girl and bring her home, then I will. I promise.”

• 168 pages (2-3 hours)

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