Grieving in Blood

By Michelle Mackenzie

Detective Steven Slade has been having a rough few months, and it only got worse.

He suffered a loss and his marriage fell apart, so he did the only thing he could do.

He put in the extra hours at work, went home and drank himself into oblivion--anything not to feel. He wasn't ready for it.

But when he gets a call to investigate a suspicious death, he is forced to face the reality in front of him, find a child-killer and face his own grief that he had been running from.

Only this time, there is no where to hide.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Reflective Line Publishing
• Release date: Nov 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215673980

Michelle Mackenzie

Michelle Mackenzie is the writer and author of the published novel, The Dark Queen series (Book 1): The Storm Within.  Encouraged by the sucess of her book, she is continuing to her career as a thriller and suspense writer.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Steven Slade leaned back in his chair, drinking another beer. The news was playing in the background, but he stopped listening three drinks ago.  The evening sun was setting, lighting the living room with an orange glow. Despite the warm appearance, an icy chill reminded him that winter was right around the corner. He climbed off his chair, shivering. He had forgotten to change the temperature on the thermostat on the dial. Steven stood and watched as the numbers rose to twenty-four degrees. He tugged at his sleeves, pulling the woolly material over his hands. Once again, London was in for another harsh winter. A knock on the front door interrupted his chain of thought. Grumbling, he pulled up his sagging black jeans and stumbled to the entrance. A familiar slender figure stood silhouetted behind the frosted glass. 

Beside the front door, a large dusty mirror hung on the wall. He combed his fingers through his hair that stubbornly stuck out in every direction, and he took a deep breath.

Then, he opened the door.

A woman stood there, looking at him with a lop-sided smile and sad eyes. Hi Steven, she greeted.

Hello Karman, he replied flatly. What are you doing here at this time of night?

She frowned, glancing down at her watch.

It's barely seven.

He stepped aside, then led her down the hall and through into the kitchen.

How many have you had? She pointed towards the empty bottles and cans on the table by the leather sofa.

Steven scoffed, Does it matter? He observed her for a moment, noting her mustard-yellow flare trousers and her white floral blouse.

Please don't be like that. It's been hard for me, too.

He would have bolted to his feet if he hadn't already been standing. He glared at her; his face flushed a deep red. Hard on you? You left me! We lost him and you left. He swallowed hard, trying to expel a lump that threatened to choke him. You left, he repeated, forcing himself to control his emotions. She at least had someone’s shoulder to cry on. After she had left, he had no one. He spent the time either at work or at home, drowning his sorrows until he passed out. These days, it was the only way that his body could sleep. You don't get to complain about how hard life is. He straightened his back and gave her a steely glare. There was no one who could make him as furious as she did.

Instead of becoming angry, she softened her tone and took a step back. I know you're still hurt that I left. I know you don't understand but I didn't come here to fight with you.

"Why are you here?"

She sighed and reached into her matching yellow handbag and pulled out an envelope.

What's this? he demanded, his eyes transfixed on the large brown envelope, gripped in her hand.

Divorce papers.

Steven frowned, still staring at the envelope, willing it to burst into flames.

Karman shook her head and placed it on top of the kitchen unit. She sighed, there wasn't anything she could say that could make the situation any less painful and they had been through enough. Goodbye Steven. She walked out and closed the door softly behind her.

Why? He asked. She was barely out of the door when he choked out the words. Why did you leave?

You don’t know?

He shook his head and waited for her to reply.

Because I can’t look at you without looking at him. He looked just like you. I can’t... I just can’t.

That’s a good thing, though, isn’t it? he asked, his voice almost pleading.

Not when it breaks my heart, she replied, tearfully. Without further explanation, she turned away and closed the door behind her.

He drained his glass and decided that a beer wasn’t going to be strong enough. He reached to the top of the fridge and opened a large bottle of whiskey.  Fifteen years of marriage and it had ground to a halt. Tears stung his eyes, trying to keep hold of what he had left of his life. He shook his head and sighed; it was like holding onto sand: no matter how hard he held it together, it still slipped through his fingers.

The next morning, Steven rose from his bed groaning. He pushed his hands against his temples as if his head was about to split open. Did he pass out? He dragged himself to the fridge, using the wall to steady himself.  After having a glass of chilled water and a box of aspirin from the cupboard, he went into his bathroom with a towel and some clothes from the dryer.

He emerged from the bathroom half an hour later, fully dressed and drying his hair with the towel. He snatched his keys and his phone from the hallway shelf and stepped out the front door. He hoped for a quiet day, but it rarely was.

Vicky and her son, Daniel, looked out of the window. It was outside but the sun was shining, and the surfaces were dry.

Do you want to go to the park? she asked.

The crunching could be heard across the room as he bit into the crunchy nut clusters, his favourite cereal of the week.

Yeah! he cheered with his mouth still full. I'm going to go down the slide! He loved the slide and would quite happily play with nothing else.

Finish your breakfast then. After that, you can get dressed, brush your teeth and get ready.

The five-year-old beamed, before taking another large bite from his spoon and nodded eagerly.

Finally, after he finished eating, he went to get dressed. Excited, he threw open his bedroom door wearing a green dinosaur jumper and a blue pair of tracksuit bottoms, eagerly slipping on his shoes. Not forgetting his green coat; he raced for the door.

Wait a minute, his mother said. Did you wash your face and brush your teeth? Of course, she knew he hadn't.

Oops. I'll do it now, he replied sheepishly. He raced back up the stairs with the sound of his footsteps thundering through the floor.

Chapter 2

The play area was almost empty, other than a woman pushing a baby in a small swing. The baby cooed, laughing as the seat swung back and forth.

The boy raced through the gate and headed straight for the slide. He climbed the yellow-painted ladder and stood at the top of the platform, beaming.  He looked down, watching as the other family prepared to leave. I can see you! he cheered, waving at his mother.

Vicky waved back, shielding her eyes from the sun's glare with her free hand.

Daniel slid down the slide, giggling, took a final look at his mother watching him, before rushing over to the swings.

On the count of three, he pulled the seat back and swung forward, stretching his legs out into the air. Look! I'm going really high!

Don't go too high, you'll fall off.

No, I won't! he scoffed. I'm a swinger expert.

He gripped the chain, pushing himself forward, determined to prove her wrong. The swing climbed higher and higher into the air.

Watching, Vicky jumped out of her seat and raced over to the swing, predicting what would happen next. She rushed for her son, ready to catch him.

Daniel was thrown off the swing, launching him into the air and landed with a hard thud, just a couple of meters from his mother's feet. He groaned; he had landed harder than he expected. He got up and brushed himself down. His trousers were caked with sticky, red mud. Muuuum! he called out in a shrill voice. I'm bleeding!

Vicky reached for Daniel’s hand, helping him to his feet and pulled out a packet of baby-wipes from her handbag. He held out his hands to her. Let's have a look, she said calmly. She wiped his hands clean and gave him a smile. Your hands are fine. Did you hurt your knees?

He pulled up the sleeves of his trousers to above his knees. Other than being a little red, there was no scrapes or blood. She frowned and cleared her throat. Where did the blood come from? She pulled him to the side and led her son to the bench. Stay here a moment, OK? Vicky headed back to the swing set where Daniel had fallen, leaning in for a closer look at the mud. She brushed away some of the loose dirt and stopped, uncovering what appeared to be a fairly small hand. Not of a child, but not big enough to be an adult. Her hand shot to her mouth, gasping, fighting the urge to scream. She turned away, feeling nauseous. Oh god, she whispered. I'm so sorry. Vicky pulled her phone out from her bag and dialled for the police and waited until they put her through.

Police, what's the emergency?

Hello. I just found someone at London Park.

Does this person have a name?

I'm sure this person does, but I don't think I'm gonna be told.

"OK.