Only When I Sleep

By E.V. Lind

A woman fleeing a killer from her abusive past.

A struggling war veteran who needs to protect her.

A haunted house with secrets that will destroy them both.

 

After surviving a brutal relationship with her violent ex-partner, Beth Campbell flees to save her own life. She desperately escapes to a remote small town in Oregon, where a kindly local offers her a housesitting job. Beth's delighted with the job and the old, deserted home that's located on the edges of the sleepy town. It will be a haven for her and her unborn child to heal from their trauma.

 

But the house has terrible secrets – secrets that are uncovered after Beth finds the diaries of a woman who's been missing since 1942. Beth's discovery awakens the ghosts of the past, and now she's stumbled into something far, far worse than what she had fled from.

 

Jaded war veteran, Ryan Jones, has his own demons to battle. Struggling with survivor's guilt, the last thing he needs to deal with is a terrified stranger whose vulnerability touches his icy heart. His plans for a quiet life are shattered by Beth, the undead and her homicidal ex. Suddenly Ryan is thrust back into a protector role, something he vowed he'd never do again.

 

With their nightmares becoming reality, Ryan and Beth must learn to trust each other to survive. Because a twisted killer from the present and the past is not going to let them escape.

 

An unputdownable rollercoaster ride from USA Today Bestseller Yvonne Lindsay, writing as E.V. Lind. If you love gripping suspense with a touch of supernatural menace, prepare to be hooked!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dolce Vita Trust
• Release date: Dec 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9781991193209

E.V. Lind

E.V. Lind is the pen-name of Yvonne Lindsay, an award winning, multi-USA Today bestselling author of more than 50 titles with more than 5 million copies sold worldwide. She has always been captivated by the supernatural and enjoyed chilling suspense movies and has always been drawn to visit old homes and even older graveyards for all the untold stories that lie within. Add to this a fascination with what makes criminals tick, a love of crime and suspense novels and you can understand why E.V. now writes suspense with a supernatural twist.  From Lisa Gardner to Barbara Erskine, E.V. is inspired by stories that hook the reader from the first page and take them on a thrilling journey of mystery, crime solving and things that go bump in the night.

Book preview

ONE

Crash!

She wheeled away from the bathroom mirror, the cheerfully off-key note she'd been in the middle of singing now trapped in a throat constricted with terror.

She didn't need to look to see who it was who'd just smashed her front door open and whose heavy footfalls echoed down the narrow central corridor of her small house. She knew. And she knew that this time he wouldn't just want to teach her a lesson. This time she'd be lucky if he let her live. She should have run the second the front door had opened. She might have made it out the back but now she was trapped in a small room with the window painted shut. She swung the bathroom door on its hinges. Leaned against it, desperate to get it closed, to slide the old-fashioned bolt.

In the next second she was sprawled on the tiled floor. The door banged against the bathroom wall and Detective Dan Henderson's compact frame filled the doorway, blocking her in.

Beth, Beth, Beth. He shook his head and sneered, then thrust a crumpled sheet of paper in her face. An application for a restraining order?

Fear for what he would do threatened to swamp her, to make her weak, but she couldn't—wouldn't—allow herself to be a victim any longer. She had too much to protect, too much to live for.

G-get out, she said, her voice cracking.

She pushed herself along the tiled floor, away from him, until her back hit the side of the bath.

Dan laughed. The sound made her scalp crawl. G-get out? he mimicked her. I don't think so, bitch. I decide who stays and who goes, not some pathetic piece of paper and certainly not you.

I'll call—.

Call who? The police? I'm already here, babe. Just for you. Only for you, you know that.

He stared at her, his eyes burning with hatred, burning with love. He lied. He had always lied, but it had taken too long for her to realize that—to understand that he used the truth sparingly, to control people. And that wasn't all. He used pain—mental, physical, sexual, he didn't care which as long as he controlled. Dread for what was to come filled every dark corner of her mind. Dread and the realization that she'd been as stupid as he'd told her she was if she'd expected him to obey something as ephemeral as a restraining order.

His hand shot out and cruel fingers tangled in her hair, yanking her to him. She cried out in protest as pain tore at her scalp.

Let me go! she pleaded.

He tsked. I told you, I never let go of what's mine, babe. And you're mine.

There was a flatness to his voice, an inevitability that filtered through her fear and fed her need to survive. For her baby if for no one else.

Someone's coming. They know about the order. They'll see you here.

It was useless. He laughed, the sound echoing hollowly off the walls.

I'd better not waste any time then.

Beth tried to twist out of his hold but he merely tightened his grip.

Getting feisty, huh? Well, let's see about that. Dan reached with his free hand for the straighteners she'd been running through her hair.

She fought to keep her voice steady, to keep the panic at bay. He thrived on intimidation, she couldn't afford to give him any more power. But it was useless. The pain of his fingers pulling so tightly on her scalp made tears spill from her eyes.

Dan, I mean it, she beseeched him. I don't want you to get into trouble. My friend is going to be here any second.

Please let the threat of discovery make him leave, she prayed silently. As before, her plea only seemed to incite him. She should have known he'd relish the challenge.

"Friend, huh? You're such a lying slut. You're mine, remember. Not someone else's whore. Mine! He dragged her face to his. Do you want to die, bitch? Were you making yourself pretty for him?"

No, it's not like that—, Beth began to protest but she could already feel the searing heat of the ceramic plates as he drew them inexorably closer to her cheek.

Let's see if he's still interested after this, Dan taunted as he pressed the straightening iron against the soft flesh of her cheek and dragged it down toward her jaw.

She screamed—high-pitched, uncontrollable. Agony seared through her face, the scent of her own burned flesh filled her nostrils. The slap across her burned cheek came as a shock, laying more stinging pain upon the agony. Beth's breath caught in her throat as she rode the wave, as she fought the nausea that threatened to choke her.

Shut up, slut. Or I'll stick this where it will really hurt.

She held onto that breath. If she allowed herself to take another she would only scream again. From past experience, she knew this was the only way she could hold herself back because Dan Henderson was a man of his word. She knew without a doubt he would follow through on his threat. She would do what she had to, endure what she had to, as long as she could keep her baby safe.

That's it, that's my girl, he crooned, loosening his hold on her hair.

Beth let the breath out in tiny increments. Slowly, carefully drew in another.

Oh, lookie, what have we here?

Dan grabbed her hand and pressed it against his crotch. Through the denim she felt his erection and shuddered. You know what that means, don't you, babe?

He let go of her hand and shoved her skirt up past her thighs, tearing away her underpants before freeing himself from his jeans.

Please, Dan. Don't. Not like this, she begged.

Exactly like this, he whispered harshly. I want, I get. Remember? Oh no, wait, you forgot didn't you. You forgot you can only think what I tell you to think. You can only do what I tell you to do. And you do not, ever, go out with anyone else. Got that, slut?

He yanked her legs, pulling her flat on the floor and making her head strike the hard surface as he did so. Stars swam in her eyes and nausea rose again from the pit of her stomach. And then he was inside her. Thankfully it was over quickly. Maybe now he'd go. Please, God, make him go. Beth rolled onto her side as Dan stood up and straightened his clothing.

I'll be back tomorrow. Make sure you tidy yourself up. He aimed a boot at her back, delivered a sharp blow. D'ya hear me bitch?

Yes, I hear you, she whimpered, her entire body tense, waiting for the next kick, the next blow of his fists.

Look at me when I'm talking to you, he said, his voice deceptively calm.

She looked up, met his gaze, saw the madness that lingered there. Nausea rose again but she swallowed it back, she would not show weakness. Dan bent down and grabbed her hair again, she didn't even flinch this time. His eyes narrowed.

You're different. What is it? Hmmm? Do you think that you're still going to go out tonight? Or maybe you think you'll just march back down to the station in the morning and refile that order.

He thrust her backward and she flailed across the floor, her arm striking the small trash bin she kept in the bathroom and sending its contents flying. A plastic wand stood out like a beacon among the detritus that had scattered out of the small trash bin. Dan's eyes alighted on it and his free hand shot out to pick up the stick.

What the fuck is this? Tell me it isn't yours.

Cruel fingers curled around her shoulder and shook her, hard.

Answer me, bitch!

It's mine, she whispered.

Beth curled into a ball, knowing what would come next. The blow that came from his fist struck her in the kidney area with unerring accuracy. Beth gagged on the wave of pain. Pain she could deal with, she was used to it.

His voice was low and deadly as he punctuated his words with blows. Bitch! Whore! You think you're good enough? You'll never be good enough to have my baby! I didn't say you could have a baby. You don't have my permission—as if I'd ever give it to someone like you. You know I have to get rid of it, don't you?

The beating continued in earnest. A fist to her head and torso, kicks to her legs, her buttocks. Through it all she refused to unfurl, tried to prevent him getting access to her abdomen, her lower belly. It was getting harder and harder to hold onto consciousness but somehow she did it and eventually, mercifully, he stopped.

You're not having that baby, do you understand me? he growled.

Another blow to her back by a well-placed boot.

Answer me!

It was the first time he'd raised his voice to her and she took it as a measure of how close he was to losing control. The thought terrified her. If this was what he could do to her with purpose, how bad would it be if he truly did lose it?

Yes, she said through the waves of pain that begged her to release her hold on consciousness.

He dropped down beside her, and his fingers closed around her throat, squeezing tight.

Say it properly, he demanded.

I. Understand. You, she choked through viciously compressed vocal cords.

Good girl. He sounded almost indulgent but Beth knew he was anything but.

After one last squeeze he released her, leaving her gasping on the cold tiles. Beth's head swam on waves of agony. Unable to control herself any longer her stomach contracted before expelling the remnants of the cup of tea she'd had before her shower. She retched and retched until there was nothing left. Unable to move any more she lay there, her face and hair in her own waste.

I guess you won't be going out tonight, after all, Dan said conversationally from somewhere over by the door.  She was vaguely aware of him bending down to retrieve the crumpled application from the floor. And you won't be needing this again.

There was the sound of his lighter flicking, a faint crackle as the flame caught the paper and began to consume it. Through the fog of near blackout, Beth saw the burning paper fall to the floor of the hallway where it burned and blackened on the fringes of a cotton rag rug. The cotton flared, a sullen orange flame coming to life and growing ever so slowly.

Look at that. Always so careless leaving stuff lying around. You'd better take care of it before it spreads any further.

With that, he turned on a booted heel and his footsteps echoed down the hall.

TWO

Riverbend, OR, August 1941

Dear Diary,

I saw him again today, working on the parcel of land they have next to our house. It feels odd to admit it, but he's such a beautiful man. My eyes ache when I see him. My heart, also. I think I'm in love. Stupid really, when we haven't even spoken.

I know he sees me watching him. It was so hot today and I guess he was hot, too. He took off his shirt and I saw his bare chest, saw the muscles across his shoulders and his back as he hooked up hay bales and stacked them on the truck bed as if they were no more than balls of cotton fluff. I swear I stopped breathing for a full minute at the sight of him. It made me feel uncomfortable in those places Mamma said are bad. That feeling though...it tingled deep inside me, even now it's doing that while I think about him and write about him. While I see him in my mind again.

How can that be a bad thing? I knew, at the time, I should tear my eyes away before Mamma caught me staring, but I could not. His skin was burnished gold and it shone with his perspiration. It gilded him like polish. I've seen men in the fields before when they take off their shirt but I've never felt like this. Never felt this wanting that drags from deep inside of me. Mamma caught me, of course. She tried to cleanse my eyes afterwards, saying that I was evil for staring. But how can admiring beauty, even male beauty, be bad. He's one of God's creatures, too, isn't he? My eyes still hurt and my letters keep blurring before me. No matter how much soap she used, I still see him.

I will always see him.

THREE

Beth lifted her head and groaned at the pain that surged through her. She reached for the rolled edge of the bathtub and dragged herself semi-upright.

Beth! Beth? Are you okay? Your front door is wide open and I smell burning.

Colleen. Thank God she'd arrived. Beth could barely move on her own.

Bathroom, Beth croaked.

Her friend was there in an instant. She gingerly lifted the smoldering mat with one hand and tossed it into the tub before turning on the faucets to drench it.

Oh, my God. Look at what he's done to you. I'm going to call an ambulance. And the police. This has to stop now.

N-no. No police, Beth rasped. No good. No help.

He can't have everyone there in his pocket. Seriously, Beth. He could have killed you, let alone burned your entire house down. At least let me take you to the emergency room.

Beth shook her head, the movement sending spears of pain like shards of glass through her head.

Your... place. Help... me... clean... up.

Honey, you need more than to clean up. You need medical help.

No... one... else. Just... you. Please?

She sensed, rather than saw, Colleen's agreement. The next half hour passed in a fog of pain and semi-consciousness but finally Colleen helped her up the shallow front stairs to her house and onto the couch.

Beth heard her friend moving around the place, muttering to herself as she gathered things together, then felt Colleen’s comforting presence as she returned to sit on the coffee table in front of her.

Right, she said firmly. Let's get a good look at you.

Beth felt cool, gentle fingers at her chin, tilting her head up to face her friend.

Oh, Beth. What did he do to you?

Beth closed her eyes, tears leaking out from beneath her lids to trickle down her cheeks.

Here, honey. Let's rest this against your burns for a bit, hopefully it'll help draw the heat out until I can get a proper ice pack.

A cool damp cloth against her skin made her flinch but Beth endured the initial shock of it.

What the hell was he thinking, branding you like that? The man's a monster. He has to be stopped. He's gone way too far this time.

Beth made a sound of protest. Her throat was swollen, painful, as she tried to speak. He knows...about the baby.

Her voice was little more than a husky croak.

What? How? Colleen shook her head. How he knows doesn't really matter. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know he wasn't happy about it.

I have to get away, Coll, or he's going to kill me and the baby. I just know it.

Honey, you can barely stand, let alone move. There must be someone in town we can report him to.

Beth shook her head, the movement sending spears of pain through her skull. It didn't matter what she did, he'd always win. Colleen went to the kitchen to retrieve an ice pack from the freezer. When she came back, she eased the cloth from Beth's cheek.

What about the women's refuge. Surely they can help? Colleen asked.

He'll look for me there.

Then you can stay with me until you're better.

Beth started to protest but Colleen was adamant.

No, you'll stay here for now. In the morning I'll go back to your place and get you some clothes, your bag and stuff. Then we'll work out what to do next.

The bitch would suffer. He’d make sure of it. Pregnant! With his child. His hands clenched in fists of frustrated anger as he got out of his car and stared at the house. Stupid, stupid bitch. Oh yes, she’d suffer. Dan seethed as he reached into the trunk of his car for the can of gas and hefted it up. The house was in darkness, but it wouldn’t be dark for long. Not once he’d shown her exactly who was boss.

The front door was pushed closed but fell open at the touch of his hand. Stupid whore hadn’t even secured her own property. Maybe she was still in the bathroom, nursing her wounds. Remembering what he’d done to her sent a thrill of lust burning through his groin. Maybe he’d deign to fuck her one last time.

He cocked his head and listened for a sound but there was just the regular hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen and the drip of a tap somewhere down the hall. He stepped carefully down the hall to her bedroom. Her drapes were open and ambient light from outside spilled onto her neatly made bed. He turned across the hall to the bathroom. His nostrils flared on the scent of the burned rug.

Beth? Come on out. I won’t hurt you, he called softly.

There was no reply. Not a hitch of a swiftly indrawn breath. Not a rustle of fabric. Nothing. His temper flared. She thought she could hide from him? He’d teach her to play hide and seek. He twisted open the cap on the fuel can and returned to her bedroom. Yeah, she’d learn her lesson this time.

The look on Colleen's face said it all upon her return the next morning.

Beth, I'm so sorry. Your house. It's all gone, honey. The fire department were there still hosing it down when I drove past. I can't have put that mat out properly. I—

Not your fault, Beth interrupted her, her voice still raw and made worse by the fact that she was now fighting back tears as well.

Lost, everything lost. All her parents' mementos. Every last treasured childhood memory. Through the grief came a sense of helplessness. She had nothing but the clothes she wore. No money, no I.D.—not a thing.

I don't know how I could have missed it, Beth. I'm sure I doused that mat.

You did, she whispered brokenly. It wasn't the mat.

Colleen looked at her sharply. You think he did it? That he went back? That’s one hell of a risk for someone in his position.

Beth had no doubt that's exactly what had happened. He was good and mad when he'd left her the first time. Coming back and finding her gone would have tipped him well and truly over the edge and she said as much to her friend.

Colleen sighed. I find it hard to believe that someone could be so evil and vindictive. Why? Why couldn’t he just let go? She shook her head in complete and utter bewilderment. I picked up the local paper on the way back.

There was something in Colleen's tone that made Beth stiffen, a precursor that what she had to say was possibly even worse that what she'd told Beth already. Worse? How could it be worse than losing the roof over her head and every single possession she had to her name?

Colleen opened the paper to an inner page, her finger hovering over a headline.

Homeowner Suspected of Arson.

What? They're saying I lit up my own house?

"According to a key witness. She hooked her fingers into air quotes. I'll get you a hot drink. You're gonna need it."

Beth reached forward to pick the paper up off the coffee table and stifled a gasp of pain. This morning had revealed several large bruises down her back and legs, and the burns on her cheek had turned angry, raw and weeping. The article made for grim reading. Apparently a local detective had been driving by when he'd seen flames flickering at the window of her home. Given the late hour, and suspecting a resident was inside the property he'd entered by kicking in the front door—well, at least that last part was true, Beth thought—and was then confronted by the homeowner who was in a manic state. Manic? The only person suffering any form of mania was him but, ever the consummate charmer, he'd created a story filled with enough truth to sound believable. Besides, who wouldn't believe him? He was a decorated officer. A man respected by his peers. A husband. A father. A pillar of the community. Her stomach churned as she read the rest. About her self-inflicted wounds, her wild behavior setting her drapes alight in every room. Her assault on him.

What?

It was like reading about someone else's bad dream, except it wasn't a dream, it was a nightmare, and it was hers.

But now she was wanted by the police for a crime she didn't commit. Dan had very effectively destroyed her entire world and left her destitute. She closed her eyes, let the paper drop into her lap. She must have made some kind of sound because she sensed Colleen by her side immediately.

We'll sort this out, Beth. We will. He can't get away with arson. They'll be able to pin it on him for sure. The fire investigators—

Beth shook her head. He's clever. He's already covered his tracks. It'll be my word against his.

And mine. I'll go to the station. I'll make a statement. Colleen's voice rose on the strength of her outrage and her conviction that the truth would be believed.

Don't! Beth's voice gave out on the harshly uttered syllable. It was little more than a rasp as she reached for her friend's hands and looked her straight in the eyes. Don't get involved. Don't let him make you a target, too.

I can't just sit here and let him get away with it. It's not right, Beth. It's just not right.

I know it's not, but we can't touch him, Coll, don't you see? He's already spun his web. No one will believe us.

What about the cop who took your statement when you filed the application for the restraining order? Surely he believed you?

The application Dan used to light the rug on fire, you mean? Beth shook her head. She watched as dull disbelief leeched into Colleen's gaze. No, they're all on his side.

Her body ached, her voice was shot and her face throbbed with pain. Right now all she wanted to do was crawl into a dark space and never come out.

What are you going to do? I mean, you can stay here for as long as you need to—

Just give me a few days to get stronger again. I'll sort something out.

Are you sure?

Beth thought about Dan might do to Colleen if he discovered she was sheltering her and shuddered. I'm sure. I'll get out of here as soon as I can walk without wanting to throw up with every step.

Oh, my God, Colleen said, still holding onto Beth's hands as if her life depended on it. The baby. Are you... Do you think you...?

I think it’s still okay. I passed a bit of blood when I peed but that’s all. He didn't kick my stomach. I wouldn't let him.

He's gonna want to find you, isn't he?

Beth let her friend's words settle deep into her bones. Yes. Yes, he is. But I won't let him. I won't.

Dan settled in his usual seat at the diner, where he could see the comings and goings from the kitchen and through the front door. No sign of Beth. It had been a couple of weeks. She should have been back here by now.

Coffee?

The waitress held the carafe poised over his mug.

Yeah, thanks...Colleen, he added as he eyed her name tag. Where’s the other girl? What’s her name...Beth?

The woman’s hand shook a little, splashing coffee over the rim of the mug. Didn’t you ask about her last week? She hasn’t been in for a while.

Dan stiffened, a curl of irritation snaking through him. He shot out a hand and grabbed the woman’s wrist as she started to turn away.

I’m a cop, it’s my job to ask questions. And, he continued as he applied a little more pressure to the woman’s slender wrist, it’s your job to answer me when I ask ‘em. Do you know where she is?

The waitress shook her head and she tugged against his hold. I have other customers to serve. Please, let me go.

You’d tell me if you knew, right? He applied a little more pressure and his smile widened as he heard her gasp.

Of...Of course. But I have nothing to tell you.

There was a distinct wobble in her voice.  Dan’s eyes narrowed as he studied her face. He knew scared when he saw it and he knew a lie when he heard it. What wasn’t she telling him?

You’d better not be lying to me, Col-leen. He drawled out the two syllables of her name and let go of her. "Because I will find out."

Colleen stepped out of his reach the instant he released her but it didn’t matter. He’d made his point. And he’d be back tomorrow and the day after that. And he’d keep asking her until she told him exactly what she knew. He had his ways.

Beth looked in horror at the fresh bruises on Colleen’s wrist.

I’m so sorry, Coll.

She still couldn’t get used to the sound of her voice, to the husky rasp that remained after that night.

It’s not your fault. Colleen hastened to assure her. She sat down next to Beth and sighed heavily while she subconsciously rubbed her wrist. But you are going to have to leave, sooner rather than later. I’m pretty sure he knows I wasn’t telling him the truth and it won’t take him long to figure out where I live. He’ll come here. I’m sure of it.

Icy shock ran through Beth’s veins. She was still healing, but Colleen was right. She couldn’t stay another day. It wasn’t fair to her friend, especially not now she was very firmly in Dan’s sights.

You’re right, Beth nodded. I’ll go. I shouldn’t have stayed here this long as it is.

It wasn’t as if you could go anywhere else, Colleen protested then got up abruptly and began to pace. He can’t go on intimidating people like this. Someone has to make a stand sometime.

Beth shook her head. No, don’t. He’ll kill you if you try.

He can’t kill everybody, Colleen said heatedly before all the fight sagged out of her. Look, I’ve been saving my tips for a couple of months. I want you to take them.

No, Colleen, I can’t do that. You need the money.

Not as much as you do. Please, I insist. I feel bad enough that I can’t let you stay here. Damn, it makes me feel so angry, so utterly helpless, that I can’t even help a friend without him having control over it. He is such a bastard. Where do you think you’ll go?

I don’t know, Beth said. But wherever it is, it’ll have to be far away from him.

He’s going to keep looking for you.

Beth’s throat constricted on a surge of fear. I’ll just have to make sure he can’t find me.

The next morning Beth counted the money Colleen had left her before she’d headed into work. A couple of thousand dollars. It felt all kinds of wrong accepting it. Beth had money. She’d just have to go out in public to get it. Although, whether the bank would let her withdraw any of her savings when she had no cards and no identification on her could be a major hurdle. But she had to try and access her money somehow.

It was a short ride on the bus to the nearest branch of her bank. Beth alighted from the bus and pulled the cap she'd borrowed from Colleen's wardrobe down low on her forehead. She’d worn her hair loose so it hung forward to hide her cheek and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible as she approached the front door. Not easy when she was also trying to avoid the security cameras that were posted all around the outside of the building.

Miss, you can't wear that in here.

Beth looked up at the security guard standing at the bank's door. He nodded toward the cap then pointed to the sign on the door.

No caps, sunglasses or hoodies. Bank policy.

She slipped the cap off, ducked her head and went into the bank to join the line for a teller. She shifted uncomfortably. Even with the way her waist was beginning to show signs of