Jenny Harper & The Satanists: book 1, #2

By sandra baldry

Two exes are in a race to save Jenny's life. The ghost of her dead ex, Alec and Mark, a detective with issues, and the clock is ticking

According to her mother, Jenny has a psychic gift, but Jenny disagrees. A gift was something you got at Christmas you could sell on eBay if unwanted and not a ringside seat to a stranger's misery.
Jenny may not want her psychic gift, but the Satanist stalking her did, and he wasn't fussed about how he took it.
The only ones that could save her were Detective Mark Bishop, Jenny's ex and the ghost of her previous ex, Alec, if only he could get someone to see him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: sandra baldry
• Release date: Oct 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201410957

Book preview

Prologue

The ceremony was reaching its climax. Adam’s fingers stretched up to the hood, removing it from his head to reveal a face lined with the fifty years he had been on this earth. His steel-grey hair swept back from his face. His light blue eyes were intelligent and piercing as he surveyed the other coven members with satisfaction and anticipation. Their hooded heads were bowed. It was silent, except for the whimpering of a man in the corner of an abandoned barn, his legs and hands bound. The muffled cries through his gag barely disturbed the peaceful night, where not even a breeze rustled the leaves of the tall trees nearby.

Adams nodded to two men, who broke away from the group, striding to the bound man. Each took an arm and dragged him to the circle before dropping him on his knees in the centre. His eyes flickered wildly at the faces that stared down at him. The men took back their places. The chanting began; the pitch increased as Adams walked to the altar to take charge of the ceremonial dagger.

The bound man collapsed to his side in a fruitless attempt to wriggle away as if there was any hope.

Chapter 1

Jenny

As I strolled out of the college entrance, Alec waited in his car. I’d been supporting students since 9 am, and it was now 2.30 pm, and I was in no mood for him. I was tired, and I just wanted to get home.

He couldn’t have known when I finished work, which begged the question — how long had he been waiting? It was late April, cold, and the clouds above promised rain. It was a race against time if I could get to the train station before it poured down. It was tempting; a twenty-minute walk or get in Alec’s BMW, which meant putting up with his whining about us getting back together.

Alec was gazing at the legs of the female students that tumbled from the college doors. The man was a hopeless twat.

I slid in beside him unnoticed, jarring him out of a trance.

‘What are you doing here?’ I snapped, dropping my bag by my feet.

‘I was in the area, Jen, and thought I could give you a lift,’ he said, flashing a grin. The charm of that grin had stopped working on me a while back.

He was a good-looking guy, taller than me, with light brown hair that he kept rakishly long, going against the fashion for men with short, tapered cuts. And he was proud of a goatee beard he sported that did nothing for him. But hey, I didn’t care anymore; at least, that’s what I told myself as I looked at him.

There was no reason for him to be in Canterbury. He didn’t work there, and I knew he hated driving around in the city—The stop-start traffic, the endless crossings. Alec was a whiny driver, you know, the type that constantly complained about the other drivers and of course, he never did anything wrong!

‘A chance to talk,’ he added as the silence lingered.

‘There's nothing left to say.’ This was a mistake. I should have stuck with the original plan and run for the train. I didn’t fancy listening to him droning on about us giving it another go.

‘Yeah, maybe, but I’ve got to arrange to collect my stuff.' There was a beat before he added. 'And there’s the deposit on the flat, and I’m going to need my share,' He reached out to touch me before deciding better of it.

I rested back in the seat. Though I hated to admit it, Alec had a point. We needed to sort things out, and it was now raining full-on.

Alec fired up the engine before progressing through the car park as chatting students, indifferent to the rain and ignoring the danger of vehicles, strolled in front of us.

At the exit, we queued to get onto the road. It was 4:30 pm, the worst time to be travelling around Canterbury. I braced myself as Alec didn’t do well with patience, and, true to form, he slipped out in front of a red double-decker bus loaded with school children prompting the annoyed bus driver to honk at us while I sunk into the seat.

‘Seatbelt, Jen,’ he reminded me, going into second gear while flashing that grin.

‘You have a key. You can get your stuff when I’m not in.’ He’d had plenty of time since I had kicked him out two weeks ago, and I hadn’t changed the locks, though it was on my list of things to do.

‘You trust me not to collect other stuff that belongs to both of us,’ Alec said.

‘Like what?’

‘The sofa?’

‘Yeah, like to see you carry that down fifteen flights of stairs.’

‘Good point,’ he responded.

‘As for the deposit, wait until I get paid, then I’ll sort it.’ I didn’t tell him he wouldn’t get the full amount unless I borrowed it from Irene, my Mum. As much as I wanted to be done with Alec, I’d rather not be indebted to Irene any more than I was. Besides, she had her own financial problems.

‘I made one mistake.’ He had stopped at the traffic lights, flicking me one of his little-boy-lost looks. I knew it. He had no interest in sorting out the deposit issue; he was using it as an excuse to talk about getting back together. I fidgeted in the seat, toying with the idea of throwing myself under the bus following us.

‘Bugger. We broke up because you can’t keep it in your pants,’ I reminded him. My body tightened, and I crossed my arms without realising it. I was turning into my mum; it must be a genetic thing. ‘I’m sorry, Alec, but I’m sick of this. Will you get your stuff and get over it? Allow me to move on.’

‘We’d be throwing away two years.’

‘No, you did that. Look, drop me off at the bus station.’ I’d rather wait an hour for the bus than listen to Alec whining. Besides, it was eighteen months, not two years.

He ignored me and swung the car to the left as the lights turned green, heading towards Margate Road, taking a long way back. I would have fixed that by jumping out the next time he stopped. He didn’t, running past an amber light. Annoyed, I settled in for the ride. It wouldn’t make any difference what he did. We weren’t getting back together again. The man was a slut and broke my heart; the last straw had been when a girl stood in her torn jeans and vest top at the door, her streaked blonde hair tied in a knot on the top of her head. She had craned her neck to gaze up at me; I'm six-two.

‘You should let Alec go; he doesn’t love you.’ She had let that hang. I appreciated her getting to the point. But shouldn’t she at least have introduced herself first?

‘You must be Penny?’ the first name that sprung to my lips.

‘I’m not Penny,’ she exclaimed with a frown creasing that pretty face.

‘Ah, Kara... or maybe Alice,’ I suggested with a roll of my eyes, stifling a yawn. ‘I lose track of his bits on the side.’ And I slammed the door. Ten minutes later, I had packed Alec’s stuff, and if I hadn’t lived on the fifteenth floor of a tower block, the bags would have been out the window. But I didn’t want to kill some poor passer-by.

I was sick and tired of fighting, of the other women and his lies. This was my second relationship that had crashed, and I thought it was me. Was I too needy? Too demanding? Was it too much to expect my partners to be faithful? Although Mark, the last man in my life, did something worse. Having kicked Alec out, I decided to make a fresh start: no more men, heartbreak, or lies. Unless, of course, someone special came along.  

He swerved off, passing the Crown Inn to a country lane. If it weren’t for Alec driving, I wouldn’t have minded since I often preferred the detour myself at this time of the year when the trees were in blossom. The only downside was the use of pig manure on the fields and the narrowing roads where the passing places were all too rare, a tight squeeze if you met other moving vehicles. And that day, the rain poured down, the windscreen wipers going ten to the dozen.

‘I love you,’ he said, slowing as a car passed in the opposite direction.

‘Not enough.’

‘You love me?’ he flicked me a glance. ‘The other girls, it’s just sex. I have a problem. What if I go to therapy?’ He glanced at me once more.

‘Eyes on the road,’ I barked. ‘Accept it’s over. We can’t keep going through this breakup and makeup routine. It’s the fourth time.’ It was ridiculous. And I had already guessed Alec was a sex addict. One woman could never satisfy that need, neither two nor three. I couldn’t cope anymore.

‘Think about it.’

‘For God’s sake, watch the road,’ I cried, looking at a truck approaching us. I grabbed the seat as fear ripped through my body, and Alec swerved, mounting the grass bank to avoid the truck speeding towards us. I screamed as the car twisted up on the bank, returning to the road, landing on its roof, and skidding straight for the truck that had no chance of avoiding us.

Everything after that was vague, half dreams, as I slipped in and out of consciousness. I remembered hearing sirens and the reflection of blue flashing lights bouncing around inside the car. At one time, I was staring at one of Alec’s arms beside me, limp, the gold watch he tried to pass off as a Rolex ticking so loud it drowned out the sirens. Then nothing.

Chapter 2

DI Mark Bishop

The Google map directed DI Mark Bishop towards an isolated location a few miles outside Minster. It was that time of the year when the harvest had been completed leaving the farmland waiting to be ploughed, ready for the winter crop. He followed the road to the woods ahead, where the sudden shelter of the leafy canopy triggered his automatic headlights to switch on. A glance at the satnav showed he was close.

Emerging from the woods, he could see the building, a barn. Police vehicles and the forensic van told him he was in the correct place. Not that he didn’t trust the satnav, but he didn’t.

Mark turned off the road, following a winding farm track where the deserted barn appeared through a group of tall leafy elm trees.

As he drew closer, his eyes glanced at a for-sale sign. It hung precariously over the barn concerning Mark as the forensics team wandered beneath the thing. Then he supposed someone had done the risk assessment.

He pulled in alongside a police vehicle, engine off and paused to take a second to get into the mindset with a deep breath.

It had rained overnight, leaving a muddy slush for Mark as he stepped out of the car. Blowing breath, he shook each shoe, making no difference; the mud was sticking. Boot prints covered the sodden ground outside the structure belonging to the forensic team before setting up the mats to reboot themselves. On spotting him, Detective Sergeant Willows sauntered over.

‘This is weird shit again,’ she said, pulling down her mask to breathe. Mark nodded his acknowledgement to her whilst glancing over to the doorless barn. A figure in white overalls drew up to him, holding a vacuumed pack of a forensic suit and footwear for Mark to take.

It was a Sunday morning, and Mark had hoped he would later participate in the football match between their police football team against the Medway lot. However, scanning the crime scene, he knew that was out of the window.

‘Another ritualistic killing,’ Mark said, slipping on the white suit more a statement than a