Haunting shadows, p.1
Haunting Shadows, page 1
HAUNTING SHADOWS
AN UNPUTDOWNABLE DCI GLOVER SCOTTISH CRIME THRILLER
BOOK 4
OLIVER DAVIES
Copyright © 2025 by Oliver Davies
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
A Message from the Author
1
Grace usually enjoyed the atmosphere at Fig & Thistle—a quaint Bistro in Inverness—but not that night.
She looked across the table at her boyfriend, Malcolm, and tried to ignore the feeling of anxiety rising in her stomach. She and Malcolm had been together a little while now, but she knew she wasn’t happy with him anymore and was trying, and failing, to tell him that.
She hadn’t been happy with him for quite some time now. They argued over the smallest, most pointless things, they didn’t have a huge amount in common, and Malcolm’s life literally revolved around her, to the point that she felt completely suffocated in the relationship. She felt bad since Malcolm was such a good guy, but she just couldn’t help how she felt.
She needed a man who was a bit more independent... and that wasn’t Malcolm McCoy.
Did she want to be with a man who depended on her as much as Malcolm did? Did she see herself having a future with a man who had nothing except for her? Did she want to live her life knowing her partner wasn’t her perfect match?
Absolutely not.
She watched Malcolm blissfully eat his pasta like he didn’t have a care in the world and tried to find a way to start the conversation. Breakups were horrible things anyway, but it was worse with Malcolm. Any time she’d tried to bring this conversation up in the past, he would successfully find a way to evade it. Grace wondered if deep down Malcolm knew she wasn’t happy, and that’s why he tried to brush any negative comment about their relationship to the side, but she couldn’t keep putting up this façade forever.
The sooner she opened her mouth and was brave enough to say how she felt, the sooner this relationship could end. Maybe then she could move on with her life.
Malcolm caught her eye and smiled, and Grace relaxed a bit, feeling this was the perfect opportunity to speak. However, no sooner did she mentally prepare herself to start the conversation did he focus on his damn food again.
It took everything she had not to groan loudly in frustration.
Grace turned her gaze to her salmon and coconut rice—a dish she usually adored—but found that her growing nerves were causing her to lose her appetite. She pushed her spoon around the plate thoughtfully as she tried to ignore the growing nausea, but she froze when she heard Malcolm’s voice.
“Have they not made it how ye like it?”
She looked up to see Malcolm’s blue eyes searching her face in concern. The moment she saw that he was focused on her, she didn’t think positively about the man’s concern for her, instead she saw it as finally an opportunity to speak her mind.
She felt a bit guilty, but it was an opportunity she knew she couldn’t waste.
“Nae, the food is fine... I’ve just got some things on ma mind, that’s all,” Grace muttered.
“Oh, right,” Malcolm answered, his focus going back to his food immediately.
Grace frowned at Malcolm, feeling annoyed he hadn’t even tried to ask her what she meant.
He’s nae fool, she thought bitterly. He kens exactly what is on ma mind, hence why he disnae want tae ask! Well, he’s going tae find out... whether he wants tae or not.
Grace cleared her throat, but Malcolm remained preoccupied with his meal. “Dinnae ye find it odd how often we argue aboot things?”
Malcolm chewed slowly, avoiding eye contact. “Nae, not really. All couples argue, dinnae they?”
The master deflector returns, she thought in annoyance.
“Aye, but not like we dae,” she countered. “We cannae even agree on wee things like what teabags tae buy or what bread tae eat... and we dinnae even live together!”
Malcolm put his fork down, surprising Grace by looking directly at her. “As ye said, they’re all wee things, amn’t they? It isnae like we argue aboot important things.”
Grace sighed. “I just feel like we shouldn’y be arguing at all, dinnae ye?”
Malcolm shrugged.
Grace groaned as she pushed her plate away. “I’m trying tae talk tae ye!”
Malcolm looked at her sharply. “What? What are ye wanting me tae say, exactly?”
“Anything wid be nice!”
Malcolm huffed and shoved his own plate away. However, as his plate was now empty, it didn’t have the same effect. “The arguments dinnae bother me. I dinnae think there’s anything wrong with having disagreements or differences every now and again.”
“There’s now and again… then there’s every day, Malc,” Grace said pleadingly. “How can ye not see that this isnae right?”
Malcolm pushed his hands toward Grace. However, when Grace didn’t reach out to him, he slowly pulled them back with a wounded expression. “I love ye, Grace. That’s the only thing that matters tae me.”
Grace was conflicted between her emotions of pity and aggravation. She hated knowing that Malcolm was going to be hurt when she ended things, but equally he wasn’t understanding her point of view either. They just weren’t right for each other, and the sooner he realised that the better.
Grace ran her fingers through her long blonde hair, knowing it was now or never. “I just think that it’s gotten tae a point where we’d be better off—”
Grace suddenly froze when she looked over Malcolm’s shoulder and outside of the restaurant’s window. Standing just outside, and looking right in her direction, was a figure dressed in black and mostly hidden by the shadows. At first she thought she was being paranoid, but the more she looked at the figure, the more it became clear they were staring at her.
“G?” Malcolm asked tentatively. “What’s wrong?”
Grace could hear Malcolm’s words, but she was so focused on the figure that she didn’t know whether Malcolm was seeing what she was. She didn’t know how long she’d been staring at the figure or how long they’d been there, but she started to breathe loudly. Her anxiety—which was already high over the thought of the breakup—was now through the roof. As though they had succeeded just by causing her fear, the figure calmly walked away.
Grace jumped and was pulled back into the moment by Malcolm grabbing her hands and holding them.
“Who was that, G?” Malcolm asked. “Did ye ken them?”
Grace slowly looked at Malcolm. “N-nae, but I c-couldn’y see their face.”
Grace expected Malcolm to take the piss or make some kind of joke about the situation, which was how he dealt with most things, but to her surprise he abruptly stood up and kissed her hands. “It’s alright, G, I’ll pay the bill and get ye out of here, alright?”
Grace nodded nervously. “T-thank ye.”
Malcolm squeezed her hands reassuringly before letting them go and walking toward a waitress. As Malcolm readied for them to leave, Grace continued to sit there and feel numb.
Who was that person? Had they genuinely been looking at her, or was it possible someone else had caught their attention?
She looked around and gulped when she realised the restaurant was empty except for her, Malcolm, and the waiting staff. That left no doubt in Grace’s mind that—whoever the hell that was—they were looking at her.
But why?
She felt a hand touch her shoulder, and she jumped out of her seat and pushed it away from her rapidly. She yelped and tried to move away, but stopped when she saw Malcolm moving hastily in front of her.
“It’s alright, G! It’s alright!” He bit his lip guiltily. “It was just me. I’m so sorry!”
Grace put her hands on her face and exhaled loudly. “Sorry! I d-didnae mean tae overreact.”
Malcolm went to touch her arm but hesitated, likely worried about frightening her again. “Dinnae apologise, it’s ma fault fur scaring ye.” He hesitated as he glanced toward the door. “Come on, I’ll get ye back home, alright?”
Grace nodded and allowed Malcolm to put her coat on for her. He put a supportive hand on her back and gently guided her out of the restaurant. As they stepped outside, she noticed the way he moved protectively close to her and how he gazed around as though daring anyone to come near her.
As much as she was certain they weren’t right for one another, she couldn’t deny how impressed she was with how he was dealing with things. Malcolm had never been the type to step up, but when he’d seen how terrified Grace was, he really did go above and beyond to ensure she was okay.
It made her feel all the worse for still feeling like she didn’t want to be with him anymore.
Malcolm escorted her to his car, held the door open for her, then made sure she was safely inside before he climbed into the driver’s side. He then drove her home, the whole time checking in on her and asking how she was.
As they got closer to her home, Grace realised she didn’t completely know how she felt. She still felt a lot of fear, but she also felt uncertainty too. A small part of her felt embarrassed as well, wondering if she had simply imagined that the man was looking at her. It was possible the person was simply interested in the restaurant and she’d jumped the gun by making it all about her... and yet she didn’t think that was right.
She tried to think about anyone who might want to scare her, but she genuinely couldn’t think of anyone. Was it just some stranger who took a bizarre liking to her? The thought was terrifying, and she just had to hope she never had to deal with seeing the figure ever again.
They eventually arrived at her house, and Malcolm parked up on the road in front of it. He put a comforting hand on her knee—making Grace hate herself for the way she wanted to jerk it away—then climbed out of the car and got the door for her. She thanked him as she got out, then together the two walked to her front door. Grace couldn’t help but notice that as they walked, Malcolm stood unusually close to her and continued to glance around them, almost as though he feared the dark figure might have followed them.
If Malcolm was worried, maybe she wasn’t being totally paranoid. Had he seen the figure and known she had every reason to be scared, hence why he got them both out of there so quickly? Part of her felt suspicious, almost as if Malcolm knew something he wasn’t telling her, but she quickly pushed that feeling aside.
As much as Malcolm wasn’t her dream man, he wasn't a liar either.
They reached her front door, and Grace fumbled nervously in her bag for her key. Her hands were shaking so badly that she accidentally dropped it. She swore, but when she went to grab it, she quickly stopped as Malcolm beat her to it.
“It’s fine, babe, I’ve got it,” he said reassuringly.
He passed her the bag, and she thanked him as she got out her house keys. She unlocked the door, then looked at him nervously.
“Thank ye fur tonight,” she muttered. “I appreciate ye taking ma concerns seriously. I-I’m sorry I got so spooked. Seems a bit silly.”
Malcolm looked surprised. “Of course, G! I could tell ye were scared… I just wanted tae look after ye.” He stroked her arm. “Now, let's get inside and I’ll make us a cuppa, aye? I promise tae not complain aboot the Tetley teabags.”
Grace chewed her lip guiltily as Malcolm chuckled at his joke. “Ye dinnae need tae stay, honestly.”
“I ken that, but I want tae.”
Grace avoided his eyes and stood there uncomfortably. Malcolm soon got the hint.
“What? I’m not staying?” Malcolm asked, his thick black eyebrows rising in confusion.
Grace avoided his eyes. “Aye... I appreciate ye gett’n me back home, but I meant what I said before aboot having concerns over us.”
Malcolm swore frustratedly. “Ye must be kidding, right? They’re just squabbles, G, nothing even worth thinking aboot... besides, dae ye really expect me tae leave ye on yer own after what happened tonight?”
“I’m home now, Malcolm, I’ll be fine,” she answered, her voice gradually finding its confidence. “I will call ye in the morning. We can continue our conversation.”
Malcolm exhaled in disbelief as he ran a hand through his cropped dark hair. “Aye, if that’s what ye want, G, but I think ye are making a mistake here.”
I ken ye dae, she thought guiltily.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I promise, we will speak tomorrow though, alright?”
Malcolm nodded glumly as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Just... just call me if ye feel scared or need anything, alright?”
“I will... thank ye.”
She stood at the door and watched Malcolm leave. He made no hurry to go, moving slower than a sloth and continuously looking back over his shoulder after every few steps. Grace knew he was hoping she’d change her mind... but she wouldn’t. Her decision was final.
After he eventually disappeared around the corner, Grace breathed a sigh of relief and closed her front door behind her. Once she was inside, she threw her keys in a bowl she kept on a small table and groaned.
Before, she’d been scared of the dark figure, but now she felt annoyed with them. She’d been ready, so ready, to end things with Malcolm, and they’d turned up and spooked her at the worst possible moment.
She walked through her hallway and stopped when she heard a noise coming from the living room. Her body froze and her fear quickly returned, but once her cat, Suzie, ran out to greet her, she laughed at her stupidity and bent down to stroke her.
“Oh, Suz,” Grace said with a chuckle. “Tonight has been an interesting one.”
She rubbed Suzie’s belly for a few seconds, then stopped once she heard the sound of something being pushed through her letterbox. She turned toward the door and hesitated, but no one attempted to knock. Suzie ran off, so Grace cautiously rose to her feet. She then took a few steps toward the door and saw someone had pushed through a folded piece of paper.
Grace rolled her eyes. Malcolm had likely written her a note, and she had to fight the urge to laugh at his pathetic behaviour.
She grabbed the note, her mind playing over the possible things Malcolm could have written, but then she hesitated. When she unfolded it fully, she realised the letter had been typed out. She read the letter, and the more she read, the more she trembled.
I’m back... and this time I’m not going anywhere.
Grace dropped the note as though it was scalding, then frantically locked the front door. She ran through the house and checked every window and door, making sure there was no way anyone would be able to get in. As she moved speedily around the house, she pondered who could have left the note.
She had no idea who could have left it... but she knew she wasn’t going to risk waiting around to find out.
2
Ilooked at Katie as she sipped her cappuccino, and couldn’t help but smile. She truly was a beautiful woman—far too attractive for the likes of me—and I felt grateful over how much our relationship had started to blossom over the past few days.
Katie was a caring person, and had even gone so far as joining me in Aberdeen so I could interview Dean Wicks, my top suspect in the murder of DI Arnold. Her behaviour showed me I’d been right to push my feelings for DS Paterson to the side and focus purely on the woman in front of me.
I appreciated the fact she knew how much this case meant to me and wanted to be there to support me, even though she knew it meant leaving her alone in the city during the actual interview. It showed that she valued my feelings as much as our relationship, and just wanted to offer me moral support at a time when I needed it the most.
When we arrived in Aberdeen, I’d been ready to charge straight to the station to see Wicks. Katie, seeing how pent up I was, gently took my hand and suggested we get a coffee first to help me relax. Initially, I’d been unhappy with the idea, unwilling to wait to make Wicks suffer for killing my friend, but Katie’s sweetness was infectious.
And now that we were sitting there, I was glad I’d listened to her.
Although I was mostly just enjoying her company, the quiet atmosphere of the café allowed me some time to compose myself and think of what I wanted to ask Wicks. I had to be sensible and couldn’t allow my personal feelings to jeopardise the interview. I only had one shot at cracking Wicks, and I couldn’t blow it by flying off the handle.
Katie moved her hand along the table, and I placed my hand on hers. She smiled at me before entwining our fingers together.
“How’re ye feeling?” she asked.
