Behind Shadows: A Psychological Mystery Thriller (The Adam Stanley Series Book 1) by Netta Newbound
Authors: Netta Newbound
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present when I met with the homicide detective. I didn't want the children with me, but I had nobody I could call for help.
Once again, I found myself thinking about Sandra. I couldn't just contact her after all this time. What would I say? "Hey, Sandra, it's me. I'm in a spot of bother. Oh and by the way, can you have my kids for the day?"
No, I needed to think this one through for a while longer.
After breakfast, I tried to tackle Emma's unruly locks, and she almost screamed the place down. In the middle of our battle, there was a knock at the front door. It was Michael.
Emma squealed and ran to him. "Naughty mummy hurted me, Daddy."
He bent and put his arms around her, scowling at me.
"She didn't want me to brush her hair, that's all," I said, shaking my head. "What are you doing here anyway?" I glared at him, not wanting a fight in front of the children.
"I came to take the kids to the park. Aren't you going to work?"
"I'm going to the police station."
He cocked his head, squinting at me with a confused expression. "What for?"
"I'd have told you last night, but you were otherwise engaged," I said, grabbing my bag I walked to the front door.
He followed. "Tell me now."
Outside, I stopped on the path, making sure the children couldn't hear. "It's about the murdered woman."
"The drunk? It's all over the news. What could you possibly know about her?"
"She was my stepmother. Oh, and by the way, Michael—if you let that fucking woman in my house again, that won’t be the only murder all over the news."
***
DS Stanley met me at the front desk as promised. He looked distinguished in his dark-grey woollen suit. Again, I was surprised at his sheer presence. He was easily 6’5” and the span of his shoulders was huge. There weren’t many men I’d met that could make me feel small and protected the way he did.
After ushering me into the same interview room, he organised coffee to be brought to us.
A few minutes later a short, overweight blonde limped into the room, seeming flustered and distracted. DS Stanley introduced her as DI Kate King and pulled a chair out for her. She was nothing at all like I'd expected.
DI King didn't waste any time getting down to business.
"Mrs Flynn—"
"Call me Amanda."
"Amanda. Could you tell us in your own words about your relationship with Annie Duncan?"
"She used to be my stepmother. Annie Kidd I knew her as, she must have gone back to her maiden name."
"What kind of relationship did you have?"
"I'm sure you already know, Sergeant. She was an evil, twisted human being. She deserves to be dead."
DI King looked at me, seeming very interested suddenly. "So you're not sorry she's been murdered?" she said.
"No."
"You told Detective Stanley you knew who killed her."
"Yes—my father, Dennis."
"What makes you think that? I was told you hadn't seen him in a number of years."
"It doesn't take a genius to work it out," I said impatiently. "He's been locked up for years, and as soon as he's released he goes off the radar. Then the woman who was his partner in crime and who testified against him is murdered. Of course it's connected."
"At this stage, I agree it might be connected, but how—I'm still unsure," DI King said.
"I also testified against him. He'll be after me next, and I'm terrified for my children."
"I understand that, Amanda, and we'll do everything we can to protect you. But I must ask—where were you on Wednesday night?"
"I worked late. I'm restoring a house in Kingsley and I lost track of the time."
"Was anybody with you?"
"No, I work alone."
"Did you see anybody? Maybe you stopped for petrol on the way home?"
“I saw a handful of trick-or-treater’s. They knocked on the door, but I don’t know who they were. I waved to their parents at the bottom of the drive. Hold on a minute—why are you asking me all these questions? Surely you don't think I had anything to do with it?"
DS Stanley was quick to reassure me. "Of course we don't, Amanda,
Once again, I found myself thinking about Sandra. I couldn't just contact her after all this time. What would I say? "Hey, Sandra, it's me. I'm in a spot of bother. Oh and by the way, can you have my kids for the day?"
No, I needed to think this one through for a while longer.
After breakfast, I tried to tackle Emma's unruly locks, and she almost screamed the place down. In the middle of our battle, there was a knock at the front door. It was Michael.
Emma squealed and ran to him. "Naughty mummy hurted me, Daddy."
He bent and put his arms around her, scowling at me.
"She didn't want me to brush her hair, that's all," I said, shaking my head. "What are you doing here anyway?" I glared at him, not wanting a fight in front of the children.
"I came to take the kids to the park. Aren't you going to work?"
"I'm going to the police station."
He cocked his head, squinting at me with a confused expression. "What for?"
"I'd have told you last night, but you were otherwise engaged," I said, grabbing my bag I walked to the front door.
He followed. "Tell me now."
Outside, I stopped on the path, making sure the children couldn't hear. "It's about the murdered woman."
"The drunk? It's all over the news. What could you possibly know about her?"
"She was my stepmother. Oh, and by the way, Michael—if you let that fucking woman in my house again, that won’t be the only murder all over the news."
***
DS Stanley met me at the front desk as promised. He looked distinguished in his dark-grey woollen suit. Again, I was surprised at his sheer presence. He was easily 6’5” and the span of his shoulders was huge. There weren’t many men I’d met that could make me feel small and protected the way he did.
After ushering me into the same interview room, he organised coffee to be brought to us.
A few minutes later a short, overweight blonde limped into the room, seeming flustered and distracted. DS Stanley introduced her as DI Kate King and pulled a chair out for her. She was nothing at all like I'd expected.
DI King didn't waste any time getting down to business.
"Mrs Flynn—"
"Call me Amanda."
"Amanda. Could you tell us in your own words about your relationship with Annie Duncan?"
"She used to be my stepmother. Annie Kidd I knew her as, she must have gone back to her maiden name."
"What kind of relationship did you have?"
"I'm sure you already know, Sergeant. She was an evil, twisted human being. She deserves to be dead."
DI King looked at me, seeming very interested suddenly. "So you're not sorry she's been murdered?" she said.
"No."
"You told Detective Stanley you knew who killed her."
"Yes—my father, Dennis."
"What makes you think that? I was told you hadn't seen him in a number of years."
"It doesn't take a genius to work it out," I said impatiently. "He's been locked up for years, and as soon as he's released he goes off the radar. Then the woman who was his partner in crime and who testified against him is murdered. Of course it's connected."
"At this stage, I agree it might be connected, but how—I'm still unsure," DI King said.
"I also testified against him. He'll be after me next, and I'm terrified for my children."
"I understand that, Amanda, and we'll do everything we can to protect you. But I must ask—where were you on Wednesday night?"
"I worked late. I'm restoring a house in Kingsley and I lost track of the time."
"Was anybody with you?"
"No, I work alone."
"Did you see anybody? Maybe you stopped for petrol on the way home?"
“I saw a handful of trick-or-treater’s. They knocked on the door, but I don’t know who they were. I waved to their parents at the bottom of the drive. Hold on a minute—why are you asking me all these questions? Surely you don't think I had anything to do with it?"
DS Stanley was quick to reassure me. "Of course we don't, Amanda,
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