Web Of Lies: Friends In Crisis, #3

By Lucy Appadoo

A gifted doctor. A caring detective. A chance to capture a serial killer, hell-bent on destroying them.

 

Twenty-eight-year-old Jamie Porcellin struggles with the death of a young, teenage patient too gravely injured to save. When her father is arrested for murdering her patient, Jamie's whole world crumbles around her. As more teenage girls are found dead, Jamie uncovers old family secrets. Sparks fly when she meets Angelo Ricci, the new detective investigating the gruesome murders.

 

As Jamie is targeted by an unknown stalker resurfaced from her past, a series of events leads her to the twisted truth which makes her question her own life.

 

Can Jamie and Angelo stop an organised serial killer from destroying more lives?

 

Web of Lies is the third romantic suspense book in the Friends In Crisis Series. If you like fast-paced romantic suspense, sensual love scenes, and scary villains, you'll love the latest book in Lucy Appadoo's page-turning series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lucy Appadoo
• Release date: Apr 24, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393439165

Lucy Appadoo

Lucy Appadoo is an author of fiction and nonfiction texts. She writes in the genres of romantic suspense/thrillers with significant life themes, contemporary romance, and historical fiction/coming of age. Lucy is a registered counsellor and wellness coach and works as a rehabilitation counsellor for the Australian government. She draws on her experience to write inspirational stories about authentic, driven women who manage adversity with strength and heart. Lucy enjoys reading romantic suspense, romance, thrillers, crime novels, family/historical drama, and sagas. She has enjoyed travelling to exotic places such as Madrid, Mauritius, and Italy, and uses these experiences to strengthen her creative writing. Lucy’s favourite authors include Toni Anderson, Kendra Elliot, Nora Roberts, Ann Christopher, Blake Pierce, Cheryl Bradshaw, Elise Noble, Erica Spindler, Nicholas Sparks, Adriana Trigiani, and James Patterson (to name a few). Lucy’s interests include travel, exercising, journal writing, reading for entertainment or knowledge, meditation, spending time with her husband and two daughters, and socialising with friends and family. To sign up for a monthly newsletter and download a FREE book, go to http://www.lucyappadooauthor.com.au

Book preview

Web Of Lies

Friends In Crisis Series (Book 3)

Lucy Appadoo

Copyright©

2021 Lucy Appadoo

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording without either the prior permission in writing from the publisher as expressly permitted by law, or under the terms agreed.

The author’s moral rights have been asserted.

Contents

1. THE PATIENT

2. THE ARREST

3. A MOTHER’S WORD

4. INVESTIGATION

5. FRIENDLY SUPPORT

6. OUT ON BAIL

7. MYSTERY DREAM

8. A CRIME SCENE

9. DINING OUT

10. TEAMWORK

11. NIGHT OF THE PARTY

12. POLICE INTERVIEW

13. TEXT MESSAGE

14. NIGHT OF RESPITE

15. A MELTING MASK

16. CONNECTION

17. CRIME REFLECTIONS

18. THE TRIAL

19. DISCLOSURE

20. RETIREMENT PARTY

21. THE PROFILE

22. ESCALATION

23. SURVEILLANCE

24. CASUAL ENCOUNTER

25. A WORKING THEORY

26. A NEW PATIENT

27. FORENSIC PSYCHOLOGIST

28. HYPNOSIS

29. REPRESSED MEMORY

30. WORK DRINKS

31. THE ATTACK

32. FRIENDSHIP

33. A SUPRISE VISIT

34. INTERSTATE TRIP

35. MEDICAL CONFERENCE

36. AN INTRUDER

37. EMOTIONAL RELEASE

38. CARING MOMENT

39. CROSS-COMMUNICATION

40. NEW INSIGHTS

41. FAMILY PRESS APPEAL

42. PRISON VISIT

43. A DEEP DIVE

44. DRINKS RESPITE

45. HOME INVASION

46. INTIMACY

47. LOST TRUST

48. MISSING

49. THE SEARCH

50. LEADS

51. KIDNAPPED

52. SAVED

53. AN ESCAPADE

54. A FIRST STEP

55. LOVE REQUITED

56. LOOSE ENDS

57. SHOCK NEWS

58. TOO RELAXED

59. IN A NEW LIGHT

60. LONE WOLF

61. A NEW BEGINNING

EPILOGUE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ALSO BY LUCY APPADOO

Chapter one

THE PATIENT

The young girl wrapped her arms around herself as she fought the cold of the evening in the Newport shopping strip. Her skimpy tank top offered little warmth. There were holes in her jeans, and the soles of her sports shoes wore out.

Coming across a pizza box in the trash bin, the girl pressed her nose against the box, her mouth salivating at the leftover Margherita pizza that was still warm. She took a bite and savoured the cheesy, basil and mozzarella flavour. A few bites later, she threw the box back into the bin and wandered towards a laneway. She wondered where she would sleep tonight. Winter would end next month, so sleeping rough was tolerable as she looked forward to warmer days.

She frowned. A man in the distance, wearing multiple layers of clothing, walked towards her. He slowed down and looked around. The girl waited; her curiosity aroused. She missed talking to people.

Excuse me, ah...just wondering where I can find a bakery. I have to get a cake for my daughter and I am afraid I have left it to the last minute.

The girl strained to think. Sorry. Haven’t the faintest.

The man smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Oh, damn. He turned around, but quickly faced her again. You know what? I am looking for something else, too.

The girl stepped forward, ignoring her unease. And what is that?

Listen, if you need some quick cash, I run a business I need to promote. I am looking for someone to deliver leaflets in the local area. Would you be interested?

The girl pondered the question. But boy, did she need the cash for food and basic living expenses. She couldn’t go back to her parents so what choice did she have? Imagine making money and buying the warmest pizza on the planet. She would love to buy new shoes, and clothing, too. At least something to keep her warmer at nights. It was a dream come true, and she really needed a job to support herself. It was a no-brainer. Sure. I would be interested.

The man beamed and gave her a thumbs-up. Well, you can start now if you like. Come to my van and I’ll give you the leaflets.

The girl again ignored her uneasiness at the man’s strange demeanour as she thought about the money that could pay for all her needs. The van was parked in an isolated part of the area, but she waited for the man to open the sliding door, knowing that her luck was about to change.

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Jamie Porcelinn glided along the shiny grey and blue flooring of the hospital and entered a small cubicle. Leaning forward, she pulled surgical gloves from a box on a plastic shelf nailed to the wall and put them on. She closed the blue curtain behind her and approached the patient, picking up a blood pressure device. She smiled. Hi, I am Dr Porcelinn. How are you feeling?

The bald, elderly man lifted himself from the bed. I am feeling better after the medication you gave me.

Jamie became serious. Great. This medication is stronger and should help with the reflux going forward. She moved closer. I will check on your blood pressure and see how it’s reacting to the change.

The elderly man nodded, looking worn-out after a bout of extreme reflux.

It’s all fine. She turned to him. If you wouldn’t mind waiting for a few minutes I’ll give you a letter, outlining the medications I am prescribing for the pharmacy. The stronger medication should settle your symptoms, but if you run into any further issues, please contact your doctor or come back to emergency. Do you have any questions?

No, thank you, Doctor. You have been extremely helpful and kind, as always.

Thank you, Mr Jones. She put away the blood pressure device. I’m happy to be of service. She straightened her shoulders. I’ll be back shortly with the letter. Jamie walked out of the cubicle, flung off her gloves and threw them into the white rubbish bin. She entered her patient’s case notes on the computer, ignoring the ambient sounds of voices and footsteps surrounding the emergency ward.

After keying in her notes she typed out a letter, printed it off, then returned to the patient. Here you go. And remember to contact us if you experience any of those symptoms again. Keep your stress levels down, too. Good luck, Mr Jones.

Jamie left the cubicle, passing by the glass enclosed administrative area filled with filing and storage cabinets, medical equipment, and computers set on white desks. The space offered privacy for administrative tasks, but paperwork easily became overwhelming for Jamie, and every other medical staff member, too. On the way to the staff lounge of the emergency ward, she prepared herself a cup of coffee and was adding milk when a cheery voice sounded behind her.

Hi, Jamie. I could do with one of those, too. I’m beat.

Jamie turned and straightened, drawing a hand through her short, red hair. Hi, Diana. How are you this morning?

Diana, an emergency nurse in the ward, flicked her long, wavy black hair. Her hazel eyes were piercing, focusing on Jamie. Get ready for a doozy. Apparently, a young girl’s coming in shortly. Pretty serious wounds. The paramedics think she might not make it, but we have to try.

Jamie frowned, shifting uncomfortably, as she took a sip of her coffee from her personal mug. Oh, Christ! I was hoping for a simple day today. Do we have the details on her?

Diana shook her head, with trembling lips. No. Only that she is pretty bad, but it makes me think...if I had a daughter, how devastating it would be to know my daughter got hurt like that. There is so much bad stuff out there. I worry for the young ones, but quite a few take silly risks with their freedom and think they’re invincible. They have to learn to watch out for predators, don’t you think?

Jamie took a seat on the empty couch and Diana followed suit. You’re right, Diana. But they do deserve a measure of freedom, too.

Diana’s eyes darkened. I know. They do. But, then again, you get those parents who neglect their children either in the home or leave them as children. They grow with this sense of abandonment, and it is a shame. They never get the opportunity to bond with their parents and feel unloved and unwanted. She squeezed Jamie’s shoulder and changed the subject. And how are you really? You look tired, young lady. Are you getting enough sleep? Eating well?

Jamie chuckled. She admired Diana’s nurturing attitude, but she was not a child, even though sometimes she wondered how she would feel if Diana was her mother. Quite the opposite of her own mother, who was loving in her own way, but self-absorbed. She had never shown much concern for Jamie’s welfare while growing up. Her father was aloof and distant, and she had struggled to gain his approval and attain his perfectionist standards. Her friends, Bella and Liz, would attest that Jamie herself was a perfectionist who had obtained her medical degree under challenging circumstances. But the wealth of her family afforded her advantages. I’m fine, Diana. You don’t need to worry. A moment of silence ended with a frenzy of movement outside the staffroom. Jamie and Diana both rose and headed back into the ward. She sanitised her hands as the paramedics wheeled in the young girl. When Jamie saw the patient, she fought back a wave of nausea at her injuries. What have we got?

The short male paramedic stopped beside her. A young Jane Doe with no visible ID on her. She appears to have blunt force trauma, burns and knife marks on the upper parts of her body, and facial beatings. She’s in a bad way.

We’ll take it from here, Gerard. Thanks. She turned to Diana whose face paled as she helped wheel the patient into the operating room.

Jamie eyed her medical staff. We need to get her to the operating theatre now to assess for internal injuries and do a forensic medical examination. She might have been sexually assaulted. Wheeling the young girl towards theatre with her team, she pushed down her own demons. Tina, can you please report this to the police right now. Let’s move.

Chapter two

THE ARREST

At home, Jamie rushed into her bathroom and stared into the mirror. Her red hair was pulled into a dishevelled ponytail, her strong brown eyes reflected exhaustion, and her hunched shoulders weighed down by a difficult day in the ER made her shortness of stature appear even smaller. Liz often mentioned that Jamie had a regal beauty and dimples on both cheeks which enhanced her smile, but today she wasn’t seeing it. She wished she was as beautiful as Liz and Bella, not to mention her newer friends, Gabriella and Joy. They were tall and slim with bright eyes and movie-star features.

Jamie bent down and washed her face, scrubbing it hard after her draining day. That poor girl who had been assaulted died on the operating table. Police officers had briefly questioned her about the girl’s injuries. The search for identity and crime investigation would be passed on to detectives. No doubt more questioning would be coming. All Jamie wanted to do was forget the state of that girl.

The poor girl had been sexually assaulted multiple times and endured days of torture. The evidence was all over her body. No. She would not go there. Poor Diana had been a right mess after she had pronounced her time of death, but they tried everything. Her injuries were extensive. Jamie had put all her efforts into saving her, but it was futile. The girl was doomed from the start.

Jamie headed into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine. Taking a sip, she walked over to her grey couch and sank into the softness of the fabric. Her loft-style house gave her comfort after treating the wounded, and she enjoyed coming home to her ultra-modern home with its cathedral ceiling, surrounded by prominent art pieces hanging on the wall. The house had open, bare windows with a view of the city skyline, plush rugs in the living room and bedrooms, a SMART TV, and glass cabinets circling a surround-sound stereo system. All the finer things which Jamie could afford, given that she appreciated art and modern furniture design. She had been to art gallery exhibitions with Bella and her colleagues and had spent a small sum on the art in her home. If she had not become a doctor, she would have become an artist or curator, or even opened her own art gallery.

Jamie walked through timber-framed double doors that led into a courtyard and large backyard with an immaculate-looking lawn and tall trees. The home was ideal with easy access to schools, parks, and shops, and she hoped that one day she would find that special someone she could trust to share it with.

She sat back on a grey outdoor mesh chair, her mind returning to the young girl who had died. The poor girl had no known identification, so she must have been a runaway. Who could hurt such a young person in the prime of her life in such a sadistic manner? Only someone who was truly evil, with no conscience.

The ringing of her phone brought her back to the present as she rose and headed back inside the house, retrieving her phone from the coffee table. Hello.

Jamie, it’s Marco. Are you sitting down? Marco was Bella’s fiancé and had helped her friend with a stalker a couple of years back when Bella had almost died. He was the best detective she knew.

A chill ran down her spine. Hi, Marco. What is it? The few seconds of silence was unnerving while she waited.

It’s your father, Jamie. His pitch changed. He’s been arrested.

She could not have heard correctly. It had to be a mistake. Ignoring her shallow breathing, she asked, What did you say?

I am sorry, Jamie, but your father has been arrested for murder, and you’ll need to come down to the station to answer a few questions.

She flinched and her vision blurred. Sitting back down on the couch, she swallowed. This could not be real. Her father would never intentionally hurt anyone. He might have been an absent father, but he wasn’t a killer.

She held a palm up as if to stop further disturbing news. I will leave now.

Oh, and Jamie. You are not alone in this. We are here to support you all the way. You’ll need all the support you can get. Bella is at a late meeting, but I will let her know.

Jamie could not see straight, her head spinning again. A numb sensation permeated her body as she stood, zombie-like in the spot. She had to be dreaming, but Marco’s voice was real. Sure, Marco. Thanks for letting me know. She bowed her head and fought back tears. Emotions would not help her at this stage, and she needed to be strong for her family, as she had always been. Crying had never got her anywhere before, and she was not about to start now.

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Jamie slowed her steps as she made her way to the front counter at the police station. Her legs felt heavy and shaky as she peered at the bright-eyed police officer who towered over her. I am here to see Detective Marco Petrazini.

Take a seat and I will let him know you’re here. He left his position and headed towards the back cubicles.

Jamie stood in the waiting area, her mind reeling at the news. What had her father done to make the police think he had killed someone? More importantly, who did they think he killed? She grew up with an absent father who was always working and made his family rich, but he had never abused her or her mother. He had never shown anger or violence. It had to be a mistake. Surely, they would have called her mother, or maybe she had already been here.

She looked up at Marco heading towards her with a worried look in his eyes. Behind him was another man she didn’t recognise. Where was Tim, his partner? Hi, Marco. Where is my Dad?

His eyes darkened. He’s in custody at the moment. He turned to the young man of average height with a solid but slim build and short, crew-cut. His strong, dark brown eyes pierced her own with curiosity. This is Detective Senior Constable Angelo Ricci. He is replacing my partner Tim, who has taken long-service leave for the next few months.

Angelo watched her closely and put out his hand. A pleasure to meet you, Ms Porcelinn. His body posture stiffened. I am sorry about your father.

Jamie shook his hand, ignoring the tingles in her stomach. Hello, Detective. She immediately turned away from his strong gaze.

They headed into an interview room where she sat opposite Marco and Angelo. Her hands shook underneath the table as she avoided their gazes.

After all the housekeeping details, Angelo started with the questions. He cleared his throat. Ms Porcelinn, I understand you treated an unidentified teenager this morning for multiple wounds and injury? One who later died?

Jamie was taken aback. Yes, but what does that have to do with my father?

Angelo frowned, his face softening. Your father was arrested for the murder of your patient, Ms Porcelinn. Her heart raced as beads of sweat rose to line her forehead. She would not break down in front of this stranger. She would not. He fiddled with a pile of papers and looked back up. When was the last time you saw your father?

Jamie pondered. Over a week ago. I had dinner at my parents’ house. I only speak to my father once a week, either by phone or at dinner. Sometimes, he can’t come because of work, so my mum and I have dinner alone. She exhaled. But my father would never intentionally hurt anyone, Detective. This has to be a mistake.

Angelo wrinkled his brow. We have compelling evidence that deems him to be a suspect. Of course, we’ll be continuing our investigation until we get to the actual truth, and he has a lawyer assisting him. But at this stage, he might be facing a trial.

Jamie shook her head. What evidence do you have?

He looked over at Marco, who had been quiet. I am afraid we can’t divulge the evidence. But we have questioned your father with his lawyer present. His lawyer has applied for bail which will be decided on by the court, given the seriousness of the charge. Your mother has seen him, and unless he is accepted for bail, you won’t be able to see him at this stage. She trembled. He’s happy with that arrangement and said he is too ashamed to see you anyway. The bail decision will take at least one to three weeks, and you can speak to him at such time.

Marco intervened. Listen, Jamie. We will do everything we can to investigate this thoroughly, but you need to prepare yourself for the worst-case scenario.

Jamie nodded. I understand, but you have it all wrong. My father is not a murderer.

Marco sighed, a shadow spreading across his face. We will look further into this and get to the truth, Jamie. He leaned back. And there are some things you’ll need to speak to your father about. His lawyer, who I understand is also a friend of the family, is with your mother now. You’ll need to work through specific personal issues with him.

Jamie moved in her seat. What personal issues?

Marco averted his eyes. Something private, which you can talk to him about. It’s all I will say at this stage until I can share more relevant details.

Angelo clasped his hands together. Ms Porcelinn, I have a few more questions for you, and then you’re free to leave.

Jamie waited with bated breath, filled with nausea. This had to be a nightmare she would soon wake up from, and if there were personal issues, what were they?

Chapter three

A MOTHER’S WORD

The man lunged at the woman on the carpet, his fist pounding into her cheeks countless times. His child flinched in horror and cowered in the corner of the living room.

You fuckin betrayed me, bitch. Never again.

The woman covered her face, blood dripping down her cheeks. Her eyes were bloodshot, surrounded by purple bruising. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please...no...more…

He gave a toothless grin. I own you, woman. Never forget that.

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Jamie staggered towards the double-storey mansion that was her parents’ house in Williamstown. She rang the doorbell, her chest tightening at the prospect of seeing her mother devastated after her father’s arrest. But it would be more of a problem due to the scandal it would create among her rich circle of friends.

The door opened and she nodded in greeting. Hi, Gregory.

Her father’s long-time friend and lawyer pulled her into a hug, but Jamie was in no mood to be cuddled, so she froze with her arms by her side. Your mother has been trying to call you. He pulled away from her, his dark eyes piercing her own. Specks of grey hair showed in his short, brown hair, looking handsome and young for his fifty-two years. Gregory and her father had been close friends since college. For the last ten years, he had been their family lawyer in civil matters rather than criminal.

The scraping noise of stiletto shoes alerted her to her mother’s presence. Her blood-shot eyes and pale complexion appeared worse than usual. For a forty-nine-year-old woman, her mother, Violet, was striking, composed and beautiful with her long, wavy red-brown hair, huge but dull blue eyes, slim physique, and graceful walk.

Jamie. I have been trying to call you, but you didn’t respond. Did you hear the news? Her mother shook her head. Such a travesty. She kept her distance as they all sat on the pink L-shaped leather couch which gave a view of the shrubbery through the closed bay windows. Luckily, the multitude of windows didn’t make the house gloomy, but rather emitted a sense of space and light.

Jamie would not have thought of it that way. Why are they accusing him of murder, Mother? Why?

Her mother remained silent as she turned away, fingering her long pearl necklace over her tight-fitting black dress. I will let Gregory explain. I cannot rehash it all again. But I know in my heart that your father is innocent of the crime. I know.

Gregory gave her a reassuring smile and touched her on the shoulder. Oh, Jamie. I wish I didn’t have to tell you this, but you have to know the truth. He got up from the couch and paced along the shiny floorboards. "They found semen matching your father’s, as well as his fingerprints on the girl’s person. They found nothing else to suggest that another perpetrator was involved at this point. They don’t have anything else, but I can get