Face at the Window

By Milly Reynolds

With Halloween, inevitably there are pranks, or so Detective Mike Malone believes when he starts hearing reports of monsters being seen at an abandoned farmhouse. However, when a young girl mysteriously disappears, Mike, along with his trusted DS Alan Shepherd, realises that these stories might be holding a terrible truth. Join Mike, Alan and the townspeople that you know and love as they try to solve the case which, in the end, will make Mike ask serious questions.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Milly Reynolds
• Release date: Jan 23, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005757274

Milly Reynolds

As you may have already guessed, Milly Reynolds is not my real name. Like my 'hero' Detective Inspector Mike Malone, I also hide my real identity. Having 'retired' from my job, I was a full-time teacher in a secondary school, I decided to pursue my dream of becoming a writer. So why Mike Malone? I love all things detective and wanted to create my own series. However, I decided not to go for the deep, dark thriller - I could never compete with the masters of that genre, like Jo Nesbo whose books I adore? Therefore I came to the decision that the Mike Malone series would be off-beat. I like to think that there is humour in my books; I don't want to scare people, I want to make them chuckle - there is not enough laughter in the world at the moment. As the series has progressed, I have become very attached to Mike; he is the comfortable pair of slippers that I put on at night. My husband has also become attached to Fi and I am under strict instructions not to let anything happen to her - yet. Living in Lincolnshire, I love the flat, endless landscapes and want these to be seen in my books alongside places that I know and love. Mike Malone has moved from the city to Lincolnshire and has fallen in love with the place; me, I was born here and can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be. However, although Mike was my first creation, he is not the only one. I have also created Jack Sallt, another Detective Inspector. Jack is grittier than Mike and there is not the humour in his stories that there is in the Mike Malone stories. I wanted to write a more 'grown-up' detective story. When time allows this will be developed into a series as well. With two male detectives under my wing, I also decided that it was time for the girls to take centre stage and 'Scorpion's Tale', my first novel featuring Liv Harris, a character in the Jack Sallt novels, was published in 2013. I am hoping that Liv will make another appearance at some point in the future. Not content with crime, I have also wandered into the realms of romance; my first stand-alone novel 'The Unseen Sky' was published August 2011. I'm lucky, I enjoy writing and find it just as relaxing to sit and create as it is to read, although sometimes a good book can get in the way of my writing. I read on average 50/60 books a year and always keep my blog updated with reviews. Anyway, I hope you like my novels. I have fun coming up with ideas for Mike -...

Book preview

Prologue

So what are we going to do at the weekend? Jenny Wallace asked.

Josh Hopkins tightened his grip around her waist. Greg’s having a Halloween party. His parents are going away for the weekend.

Do they even know?

He’s under strict instructions to make sure everything is as they leave it or else.

Jenny laughed. Greg’s an idiot and his mates are losers. The place will get wrecked. For adults, his parents are pretty clueless.

So you don’t fancy it?

No! I’d rather spend the night there.

Jenny pointed across the field to a farmhouse that was now falling into ruin.

Terry Hart’s place. Isn’t it supposed to be haunted?

Terry’s wife is supposed to haunt the place looking for him.

Why?

Don’t you know the story? I was a kid when it happened. Terry's wife died and he went to pieces. It was the time all those sheep were getting their fleeces cut off. Anyway, Terry went to pieces, his farm was in ruins and when someone killed his dog, he went off and hung himself from a tree. His wife looks for him every night.

Josh laughed. Rubbish. You’ll be telling me next that the dog haunts the place as well.

It probably does. Come on, let's go and have a look. Jenny pulled away from him and started to walk down the lane.

Jen, it’s nearly seven. Come on, let’s get home. Dad’s taking me to play snooker tonight and if I’m late he’ll go without me.

Five minutes won’t hurt, or are you scared? Jenny laughed.

Scared? No! Josh tried to put grit in his voice, he would never admit to being a bit spooked by the Hart farm. Even his dad had said there was something odd about the place and his dad used to be in the Army. Wait up!

Josh ran to catch up with Jenny and put his arm around her again - she might think it was because she was his girlfriend but really he wanted someone to hold onto.

What do you expect to find? he asked.

Dunno. I just want a look.

So why not do it in daylight?

Jenny laughed again. Because it’s more exciting in the dark.

They carried on and the closer they got to the farm, the more nervous Josh became. This was not his idea of a good time. They reached the gate, unlatched it and started to push it open.

What was that? Jenny stopped and Josh felt her tense up.

What?

I heard something.

Pack it in, Jen.

No. There’s something there.

Josh could feel Jenny’s fear stroking his fingertips. There’s nothing. It’s your …

At that moment a luminous shape appeared from the side of the house and started rushing towards them.

What is it? Josh was rooted to the ground.

I don’t care. Run!

Josh didn’t need telling twice. Having the sense to slam the gate shut again to stop it following him, he started to follow Jenny back down the lane. When he caught up with her, he paused and turned around. The shape was at the gate watching and Josh could feel his heart pounding faster and faster. What was that thing?

1

When he pushed open the door, the torch light illuminated the debris of a house not lived in and a scampering revealed a mouse running along the skirting board to find darkness. Watching where he was walking, he crossed the rubbish strewn room to a door which he unlocked and opened to reveal a staircase. With the door once again locked behind him he trudged up the uncarpeted steps. The bag on his back was heavy and he’d be glad to be able to empty it. He had to find a way out of this mess, he couldn’t keep doing this for the rest of his life. From one of the rooms he could hear singing but he needed to check the bathroom first. Pulling his bag from his shoulder he unzipped it and pulled out a bottle of disinfectant which he poured down the toilet. A couple of towels were screwed up on the floor, so he pulled another couple from his bag and hung them up, the used ones he pushed into a plastic bag. The soap was still ok but the shower gel and shampoo were still unopened. He sighed. She must be filthy, but he didn’t have the time to deal with that. The singing had not stopped so he left the bathroom and followed the sound.

He found her in the bedroom that overlooked the garden. She was kneeling and gazing out the window.

Lexi, it’s me.

The girl at the window turned and in the moonlight her smile seemed even brighter as she scrambled to her feet and rushed over to him, wrapping her arms around him and burying her head in his shoulder. He couldn’t help feeling sad as he stroked her head.

How are you?

Fine.

Lexi sat down cross legged on the floor and watched him as he unpacked the bag. You really must wash, Lexi - and wash your hair.

Can’t.

Yes you can. You used to do it at home.

Mum washed my hair. Where’s Mum?

His heart squeezed at the thought of his sister who had been killed with her husband when they had been involved in a head on crash with a drunk driver the week before. He hadn’t even had a chance to grieve for her, the authorities had just brought Lexi to him as he was named as her legal guardian and his life had turned upside down. Steve’s parents were arranging the joint funeral as they had told him he had Lexi to think about. He had wondered about telling them about his situation and asking them if they could help with Lexi as well but had decided against it. They lived in Devon and had no real relationship with Lexi, unlike him. Your mum’s in heaven, honey. I told you last time, she’s with the stars and watches you every night.

A tear ran down Lexi’s cheek and he brushed it away. I want my mum.

I know you do, but she isn’t here. But she would be wanting you to be good and she would be wanting you to be clean, wouldn’t she?

Yes. Lexi was drawing shapes in the dust with her finger.

"Look. I’ve brought you clean clothes. I’ll put the food and water in the other room. And I’ve brought you these. He pulled out a colouring book and pencils, a picture book and a toy lion which Lexi immediately grabbed and snuggled under her chin. He also handed her a bar of chocolate.

Now I’ve got to go soon. I’ll just change your bedclothes and put your clothes in the drawers. He left Lexi eating her chocolate and went through to the room that she was using as a bedroom. It must have been a really nice room at one point. Why no one had ever emptied it, he didn’t know. The furniture was - or had been - in pretty good condition and the clothes that were still hanging in the wardrobe were now dusty. He put Lexi’s clean clothes in the drawers, picked up the clothes that had been thrown on the floor even though he had told her to put dirty clothes in the basket that he had put in the corner. But she was a child, what could he expect? She was a child in a teenager’s body and he had no idea what to do with her. For now it was better for everyone if she stayed here.

With the bed remade and the dirty laundry stuffed in his bag, he went to find her. Lexi was sprawled on her stomach colouring away. He bent down.

That’s lovely, sweetheart. You’re being a good girl and keeping in the lines. Now I’ve got to go. I’ll be back another day. Promise.

Tears were already in her eyes as she pulled herself over to him, hanging on as if her life depended on it.

Stay. Don’t go.

I’ve got to, Lexi. An idea occurred to him. A mad idea but it might work. I’ll bring you a friend to play with next time. Would you like that?

A smile replaced the tears. Will she play with me?

Yes, she’ll play with you.

He gently released himself from her arms and stood up. Now be a good girl until I get back and remember to have a wash. Your new friend won’t want to play with a dirty girl, will she?

I will. Bye.

Lexi returned to her colouring and he took the opportunity to slip away. Every time he left, he felt that little bit guiltier but he had no choice. Lexi couldn’t live with him, his wife had made that very plain. He locked the door to the staircase again and went outside to check the animals and fill up their feed. They still looked good and as long as they served their purpose, he was happy to keep spending money on feed just until he could find a solution to all of his problems.

2

I could smell the bacon from the bedroom, a smell that would have normally sent my stomach turning somersaults. Not today. I had too much on my mind. Normally, I had no secrets from Fi, but this was something I couldn’t share. Not yet. Plus the fact that I was also hoping that it would all pass and everything would be ok again. But somehow, I doubted it. All I could do was put on a brave face and carry on as if everything was normal. Carry on being good old Mike.

Are you ever coming downstairs? Fi called.

On my way.

I bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen where Fi was already seated with her bowl of granola, yoghurt and berries. My bacon sandwich was waiting for me, the fat from the bacon colouring the white bread perfectly. A bacon sandwich without white bread was like fish and chips without the fish. I planted a kiss on the top of my beautiful wife’s head and sat down.

Have you decided yet what you are going to wear to Cat’s Halloween gathering on Saturday? Fi asked.

No, I haven’t a clue. You’re going to have to help me.

So you’re going to leave it to me? I recognised the glint of mischief in Fi’s eye. What had I just let myself in for?

"Well I’ve got some ideas - we ought to