Free Hard Fall: A gripping, noir detective thriller (Thomas Blume series of Hard-Boiled Mysteries, Book 1) by P.T. Reade Page A

stop at the base of a small hill, breathing heavily. Waiting for the shock of what had just happened to pass, I managed to get to my feet, clawing at the small hill behind me. As I stood up, I realized that what I was seeing was not a hill, but some sort of mound.
     
    I thought nothing of it at first, assuming it to be a collection of debris and detritus from rainwater washing down the hill over the years.
     
    But then I saw a white shred of fabric, barely peeking through the mud. Hesitantly, I reached down and pulled at it. It would not come free. I set to digging around the area, revealing more of the white fabric and then struck something solid.
     
    I stopped in horror, realizing what I was looking at.   A bone jutted from the dank ground.
     
    “My God,” I muttered, staring at the jagged piece of human remains.
     
    I nearly started to dig again and then saw two other similar mounds to my right. I was literally digging into the past and turning up a world of death and pain.
     
    I could have kept digging, but I sensed that time was slipping away. When this was all over, I’d call the police and let them do the proper search.
     
    My ankle throbbed as I carefully made my way to the edge of the yard and made a limped dash for the shed. A small door was situated along the side. I barely peeked in, too concerned with getting to the house and confronting Billy Bennett. I had no gun, no weapon…I had no idea how I was going to subdue him.
     
    The smart move would have been to arrive with backup or a weapon. But when did I ever do the smart thing lately? Blind determination was my idiotic calling card and there was more than my life at stake here.
     
    I walked away from the door but then froze. I took a step back and peeked through the thin slat between the door and the warped frame. There were several burlap sacks and a few old milk crates piled in the corners. I also saw several shovels, an axe, and a pitchfork.
     
    I pushed the creaking door open and walked inside.
     
    The rain fell in drips through the ceiling, but I was scarcely aware of this. Instead, my eyes went to the milk crates. There were some children’s toys and even old notebooks in them, stacked thick to the top, some dated from decades ago. I flipped through the most recent one I came to. It did not take me long to get a glimpse into who Billy Bennett was…and a certainty that if he had not taken Jack Ellington, the bastard was probably guilty of a lot more. What I read was sickening.
     
    …and he screamed with the cloth over his mouth and it sounded like some weak little engine…
     
    …surprised when his ribs cracked under my weight and you should have SEEN the light go out in his eyes…
     
    …the boards need washing again form all the blood.  I saw a fingernail there yesterday…a little chipped fingernail like half a moon…
     
    …because I don’t know if the stupid boy was dead when I started to undress him and…
     
    I read quickly, trying not to dwell on the words too much. In the margins, Billy had also drawn crude sketches of genitals and other body parts that made me shudder. Then I saw one line in the oldest book that sent a sharp chill up my spine:
     
    He’s a boring, goody-two-shoes-arsehole, but Henry loves me. He’s a good father, I guess, but even he doesn’t understand the things in my head. I’m sorry, Henry….
     
    The realization threatened to split my head open right where the hangover had started the job.
     
    ***
     
    I felt sick to my stomach. Still, I continued to the burlap sacks. There were two of them, neither of which were tied closed. I started to feel uneasy. It was almost like this sicko wanted to get caught. I wondered how long all of this stuff had been out here, hidden by only a paltry wooden door.
     
    One of the sacks contained nothing more than old dry pine needles. I disregarded this one and looked into the next. An odd assortment of clothes were inside, as well as a watch, a pair of