An Ill Wind - PAPERBACK - Detective Loxley Crime Thriller Book 6

You will be notified by email when your paperback has been dispatched. It's usually within a couple of working days.

Chapter 3
Tuesday

Megan turned her car into the small car park to one side of the Beeston North Children’s Centre and drove into her usual spot. The playschool parking area was devoid of other vehicles at this time in the morning, but that was exactly how Megan liked it.
Climbing out of her modest hatchback into the cool morning air, still fresh from the overnight rain, sent a chill over her shoulders and around her neck, but she relished it all the same. There was something about the cleansing morning air before it got too polluted by car fumes that she found invigorating, not to mention keeping her favourite parking spot by arriving early.
She slung her bag over her shoulder, locked the car, and walked towards the low, flat-roofed building. It was modest in size and looked like some kind of prefab place, but to Megan, it was everything she needed or wanted, and she would make the most of it.
The experience she was getting at the playschool, helping and teaching the children, was amazing. She hoped one day to become a teacher in a primary school, but she had a way to go before reaching that goal. For now, being here and giving these kids a happy and fun experience felt a little bit like rehabilitation and helped her to forget her own past.
It was partly why she was so keen and was always here before everyone else.
These days, she had a key and could get inside and start to set up for the day, but in her first days on the job, she was always waiting for Sam to arrive and open up. In the end, Sam had given her her own set of keys so she could crack on.
Megan was keen to do a great job and impress the other playschool staff, and so far, things had been going well. And considering where her head had been before taking the job, that wasn’t anything to sniff at. Her life had changed so much during that time. She didn’t recognise the girl who’d left school just a few years ago.
She didn’t like who she’d been back then, even if she did have a good reason for her behaviour, not that it excused anything she’d done. It certainly didn’t in her own mind. She’d do her best to help the kids in her care, to ensure something like that didn’t happen to them.
She knew the telltale signs and had quietly vowed to herself to keep an eye out for similar tells in others so that she might be able to do something about it.
She hoped she didn’t. No one deserved to go through what she had.
Unlocking the front door to the building, she walked inside, disabled the alarm and turned the lights on, locking the door behind her. It would remain locked until there were enough staff members in the building. But while she was the only one here, Sam had advised her to take reasonable precautions.
She set to right away, emptying a half-filled bin then moving her way through the building, checking the office, the kitchen, and then the play areas, busying herself with various chores. Ten minutes later, she was in the main room, picking out paints and paper for the art area, swapping out some different toys for the kids to play with.
Around her, the centre remained silent as she worked, until she heard a sudden bang, like a door slamming.
Megan froze and looked up, frowning. That had come from the rear of the building, not the front. Why did it come from back there?
Megan suddenly felt alone and vulnerable. She glanced back towards the entrance, but the building was quiet. She grimaced, pondering the noise. Part of her wanted to leave the building, but running away because of a bang sounded silly.
Besides, it was probably just a door left open or unlocked when the last person had left the previous night.
Taking a breath to steady her shaken nerves, she walked out of the room and along a corridor. She took a left and, sure enough, spotted the culprit right away. It was the rear door, which was now swinging in the morning air. As she watched, a gust caught it. It slammed again before bouncing back. Megan raised an eyebrow and marched up to the door. A quick look revealed that the door had been locked, but while it was still open, the bolt prevented it from closing.
“Which idiot did this?” she muttered to herself. Grabbing her keys, she quickly unlocked the door, closed it, and locked it again. She turned back. A scattering of grass and dirt inside the door littered the floor, and she sighed. She’d need to tidy that up.
Satisfied that the door was secure, she nodded to herself and returned to the classroom.
She was several feet into the room when she spotted something on the floor that hadn’t been there just a few seconds ago. Megan froze and stared down at the item. It was a small shiny figure or doll, around four inches tall, that looked like it had been hand carved from either soap or wax. She made out several pins or nails stabbed into it and a few bits of grass that had been trailed in. The creepy thing had been placed right in the middle of the main play area and faced towards her. Its blank eyes stared at her soullessly.
A shiver shot up her spine, and she stiffened. That wasn’t there before. Someone had put that there. She wasn’t alone.
The classroom door banged shut behind her.
Megan jumped and spun, her heart rate spiking.
A man in dark clothing, gloves, and a balaclava stood with his hand on the door.
“’Ello, poppet,” he said.
“What the…? Who are you?”
For a moment, the figure just stared at her. She locked eyes with him, searching for some modicum of humanity or compassion, but there was precious little to be found.
Those eyes were cold and unfeeling, like the eyes of a shark. Alien.
The man charged at her. Megan screamed; he tackled her. She crashed onto the floor, sending a chair skidding across the room. He knocked the wind out of her. Instantly, he was on top of her, pinning one of her arms with his knee, slamming his fist into her cheek. Pain exploded over her face. The back of her head hit the floor, and her vision swam from the double blow.
He hit her again, and again, and again. He wouldn’t stop. Something cracked in her face, the agony from the onslaught screaming through her whole being.
And still, he didn’t stop.
At some point, she lost consciousness.