Evil Games Read Free

stores to the market and then the cafe for a weekly catch-up. But now the brand names had moved to out-of-town retail parks, taking the shoppers and the lively buzz with them.
    Unemployment in the Black Country was the third highest in the country and had never recovered from the decline of the coal and steel industry which had boomed in Victorian times.
    The foundries and steelworks had been demolished to make way for trading estates and flats.
    But today Kim didn’t want to tour the Black Country. She wanted to ride the bike, hard.
    She headed out of Stourbridge towards Stourton and an eighteen-mile stretch of road that wound its way to the picturesque town of Bridgnorth. She had no interest in the riverside shops or cafes. What she wanted was the ride.
    At the black and white sign she accelerated the bike. The anticipated shot of adrenaline ripped through her veins as the engine came to life beneath her. She leaned into the machine, her breasts against the fuel tank.
    Once unleashed, the power of the bike challenged every muscle in her body. She could feel its impatience and agitation in wanting to explode. And at times she was tempted to let it.
    Come on, get me, she thought as her right knee kissed the ground on a sudden, sharp turn. I’m waiting, you bastards, I’m waiting.
    Just now and again she liked to taunt the demons. She liked to goad the fates that had been denied when she hadn’t died beside her brother.
    And one of these days they would get her. It was just a matter of when.

FOUR
    Doctor Alexandra Thorne circled the consultation room for the third time, as was her custom prior to a meeting with an important client. To Alex’s knowledge, her first patient of the day had achieved nothing remarkable in the twenty-four years of her existence. Ruth Willis had not saved anyone’s life. She had not discovered a miracle drug, or even been a particularly productive member of society. No, the significance of Ruth’s existence was for Alex’s benefit only. A fact of which the subject herself was blissfully unaware.
    Alex continued her inspection with a critical eye and lowered herself into the chair reserved for her patients; and for good reason. It was crafted of brain-tanned Italian leather which gently caressed her back and offered reassuring comfort and warmth.
    The chair was angled away from the distraction of the sash window, instead offering the patient a view of the certificates adorning the wall behind the reproduction Regency writing table.
    On top of the desk sat a photograph turned slightly so the patient could see a handsome, athletic man with two young boys, all smiling for the camera. A reassuring photograph of a beautiful family.
    Most important for this particular session was the eyeline view of the letter opener with its carved wooden handle and thin long blade that graced the front of her desk.
    The sound of the doorbell sent a shiver of anticipation through her body. Perfect, Ruth was right on time.
    Alex paused briefly to check her own appearance from toe to head. Three-inch heels added to her natural height of five foot six. Her long, slim legs were encased in navy, tailored trousers with a wide leather belt. A simple silk shirt enhanced the illusion of understated elegance. Her dark auburn hair curled at the ends in a sleek, tidy bob. She reached for the spectacles in the drawer and fixed them on the bridge of her nose to complete the ensemble. The prop was unnecessary for her vision but imperative for her image.
    ‘Good morning, Ruth,’ Alex said, opening the door.
    Ruth entered, personifying the dreary day outside. Her face was lifeless, shoulders drooped and depressed.
    ‘How have you been?’
    ‘Not too good,’ Ruth answered, taking her seat.
    Alex stood at the coffee maker. ‘Have you seen him again?’
    Ruth shook her head, but Alex could tell she was lying.
    ‘Did you go back?’
    Ruth looked away guiltily, unaware that she’d done exactly what Alex had wanted her to