Read Taunting the Dead for Free Online

twenty-two when he’d taken over his business. From then, he had grown from property to property and his stature had become grander by the year. Not all his dealings were legitimate but all of them were above board as far as the police nailing him were concerned. Still, they had time on their side.
    Of course she’d remember him – what woman alive wouldn’t? He was a charmer, blessed with good looks that models in Milan would cut off another’s ear to have. Chiselled features , the fashion magazines would say. Just in his early forties, he had an impish smile and a perfect set of teeth, a strong Roman nose and deep-set blue eyes. He was tall and slim and wore the latest in designer clothes and accessories. He drove the best cars. He ate at the finest restaurants. He and his wife hosted a number of charity events throughout the year – one of which she and Mark would be grudgingly attending tomorrow evening. He was known as a man with a good heart yet a very bad soul. Allie often thought about him without realising. Just the mention of their charity, Ryders Dreams Come True,would remind her of a venue, a time, a smile, a touch. A police meeting would have her thinking of a shared joke, a double-entendre, a quick drink at a packed bar in the name of business. Terry Ryder didn’t leave just a money legacy wherever he went.
    A few years ago, he and his family had moved off the notorious Marshall Estate, Allie’s regular patch, into one of the newer houses on Royal Avenue. Sometimes she’d catch a glimpse of him as he drove past in his midnight blue Mercedes soft-top or his black Range Rover, personalised number plates on both. Always she would be left remembering the image for quite some time afterwards.
    Allie wondered. Could Terry Ryder be involved in Sarah Maddison’s murder? She chewed on her lip for a moment before she drove away with her thoughts.
     
    Terry Ryder watched Allie Shenton drive past in her car before he came out from behind the billboards situated at the far end of the road. He’d been doing his usual site check on land that he was interested in purchasing when he’d noticed her sitting there. A property developer from out of the area had bought a few acres for which Terry had put in a lower bid at auction and had built a block of twenty-four apartments. But none of them had sold, due mainly to the extortionate asking price in a city that was struggling to survive in the current economic climate. Had he been from Stoke-on-Trent, the developer would have known the land wasn’t the bargain he’d originally thought. Terry had been trying to get him to pass it on to him for some time now, but at such a low price that the builder refused to sell. Instead the apartments stood empty, earning no one any money and making the area look even more run down than it was.
    He threw down his cigarette and headed off down Georgia Road, where he let himself into number two. Greeted by the sounds of grunts and the odd groan from the front room, he walked in as if he owned the place – which he did. Phil Kennedy was on the floor, straddled by a girl who looked young enough to still be at school. Even half clothed as she was, Terry could see a pretty young thing blossoming but young things weren’t to his taste. Her eyes were closed as Phil pushed her up and down, but as she felt the tug of his stare, she opened them and screamed.
    ‘Fuck! There’s a geezer gawping at us!’ The girl jumped up and off Phil in a flash and grabbed for her jeans and top, at the same time trying to avoid flashing him an eyeful.
    Phil turned his head to see who had stopped him at the peak of his enjoyment and grinned when he saw Terry standing there. ‘Yet again, you catch me on the job. How’re you doing, soldier?’
    Terry said nothing. The girl stood in the doorway trying to catch Phil’s eye.
    ‘Let me get rid of her,’ Phil muttered. He pressed a small polythene bag containing a tiny amount of white powder into the girl’s