The Darkness Beneath, page 20
As she crossed the kitchen the window rattled behind the blind. Whoever was outside was banging against the glass. The knife slipped from her fingers, clattering against the floor. She retrieved it quickly with trembling hands as the banging came again, this time closer to the door.
She hurried across, needing to reassure herself it was locked.
As she reached the door, yanked at the handle to check, a face pressed up against the glass, and she screamed, her heart leaping into her mouth. The glass was frosted, but she could see a white mask. He stood with his face pressed against the glass, gloved hands either side, palms splayed, as he stared through the door at her.
Nell stood frozen to the spot, the knife gripped in one hand, her phone in the other, too terrified to move as she stared back at the black eye holes in the ghoulish white face, then the man shrieked loudly, a ghoulish high pitched banshee cry that sounded like mad laughter and he pummeled his fists against the glass in the door.
Startled, she let out a yelp and backed away, hitting the counter. Her legs so rubbery she didn’t dare use them, she sank to the floor and crawled behind the counter out of sight of the door, the knife still tightly gripped in her hand.
After what was probably only a few seconds, but felt much longer, the banging ceased and everything went quiet. Still she remained on the floor, squeezing her eyes shut, not daring to move. Barely able to breathe, she listened to the slow perpetual tick of the grandfather clock.
The attack hit hard and sudden, the vice like grip in her chest stealing her breath, her head pounding, vision blurring. Sweat beaded on her forehead, rolled down her sides as a wave of nausea swept over her. She began counting, desperately trying to gain control of her breathing, the panic increasing as her tightening chest worsened, convinced she was going to black out.
The front door bell chimed, making her jump. Her hand clenched even tighter on the knife.
She heard Alex’s voice. ‘Nell, it’s me. Open up.’
Letting out a shaky breath she tried to pull herself up and failed.
‘Fifty-four, fifty-three, fifty-two…’
The bell sounded again. ‘NELL?’
Nell gulped for air, tried again, holding onto the counter for support. Her legs were shaking so badly though, her head swimming, and she sank back to the floor.
Her cellphone started to ring in her hand. It was several seconds before she managed to activate the call.
‘Nell?’
‘Alex, I…’
‘Nell, listen to me, can you open the door?’
‘I tried… I can’t move.’
There was a pause. ‘You’re having an attack. Nell, talk to me.’
‘I… I can’t breathe.’
‘Yes, you can. Your brain is trying to fool you. Slow and steady like before, and in through your nose, out through your mouth. Tell me what else you feel.’
‘My chest, it hurts. I’m gonna pass out.’
‘You’re not going to pass out. It just feels like you are.’
‘It’s making me dizzy and I feel sick.’
‘Focus on your breathing.’
‘I can’t.’
‘One breath at a time, slow and steady. You’ve got this, Nell.’
‘I’m trying.’
‘Where are you? Are you upstairs?’
‘In the kitchen.’
‘I’m just a few feet away.’
‘Oh God, the man… there’s a man.’
‘He’s gone, I’ve already checked. It’s just you and me, and you’re going to be fine, I promise. The attack feels real, but it isn’t. Keep breathing, keeping talking to me. You’ve got this.’
It was several minutes before she felt steady enough to get to her feet and, although the tightening in her chest had eased, her breathing under control, her legs were still rubbery as she made her way down the hallway. She disabled the alarm, unbolted the latch and pulled open the door, stepping back to let Alex in.
He glanced at the knife she was still holding, eased it gently from her fingers and laid it on the reception desk then cupped her face, eyes studying her carefully. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah, I’m…’ Nell paused, drew in a shaky breath. Who the hell was she kidding? She had just experienced one hell of a panic attack, which had left her drained, and she couldn’t stop shaking. ‘No, I’m not,’ she admitted. ‘I will be, but I need a little while.’
She didn’t protest as Alex wrapped his arms around her, letting herself sink into him and holding on tightly, needing the physical contact. ‘I saw him,’ she whispered. ‘His face was pressed up against the door. He was wearing a mask, but I saw him.’
Alex held her close, one hand stroking her hair, the other rubbing her back. He kissed her gently on the forehead.
‘Whoever it is, I will get him. I promise you.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
He stared down at the girl on the table in front of him. Her wide blue eyes were full of tears, the look in them pleading. She wasn’t supposed to be here. This wasn’t part of the plan. He had deviated, acted on a whim. And he was royally kicking himself, because he was smarter. He was supposed to know better.
To hunt successfully, rules had to be followed, routines adhered to. There was no room for spontaneity. Acting on impulse led to sloppy mistakes and that was how people got caught.
He had been spontaneous once before, twelve years ago, and was still paying for the mistake he had made that night, still trying to clear up the mess he had caused. That night had been his Achilles heel and, as he attempted to rectify the problem, clear up the loose ends, he found himself slipping on his usually high standards.
Penny Maher should have been routine, but he hadn’t been fully focused, had still been reeling from Nell O’Connor’s return to the island, worrying she could be the catalyst for his whole world unraveling.
Needing to relieve frustration he had gone hunting, but his emotions had gotten in the way, and he hadn’t been thinking clearly when he disposed of Penny’s body. The key was hiding them well enough that the fish would have time to take care of any evidence. With no body it was a case of a missing person, and he was always careful with his victims, making sure he picked women who lived alone, where he could stage it to look as though they had left of their own accord.
Sometimes the police bought it, other times they suspected foul play, but never did they cotton on that a serial killer was playing in their backyard.
He had fucked up with Penny and then his emotions had caused him to lose his temper and he had completely lost his head, revealing his true self and killing again and, in doing so, managing to break every single code he lived by.
For years he had followed the rules he had created: always hunt away from home, always leave plenty of time between kills, never let emotion get in the way, and always get rid of the evidence.
But he had screwed up. Penny’s head had been found and she was now the subject of an active murder investigation.
While there was little chance of her being linked back to him – he was always careful to cover his tracks – it bothered him the waters were being trawled as they searched for the rest of her body. It was impossible to know what the fish had eaten and what they had left to rot on the bed of the ocean, and the discovery of other victims would spark a major manhunt.
It also caused a problem as he was unsure what the hell to do with the other body he needed to get rid of, not daring to return to his usual dumping ground.
There was a certain irony Nell had been the one to discover Penny’s head and he couldn’t help but think in some twisted way it was a sign. She was trouble though, that one, and he had enjoyed scaring her tonight a little too much, would have liked to have taken things a little further and probably would have done if Alex Cutler hadn’t shown up.
Nell was supposed to be business. She was simply a problem that had to be dealt with. But truth was she was to blame for the midnight trip into East Haven and it was her fault there was a pretty blonde currently strapped down to his table.
He had slunk away from the house, his bloodlust yearning, the volume cranking up a notch in his head, threatening to consume him. It always started slowly, like a trickling of water, but as the pressure built, the craving growing, the rush of water came faster, overpowering. The only way to relieve the pressure was to kill.
He hadn’t been thinking clearly when he had seen her, had attempted to charm her with his usual practiced lines, but something must have been off about his delivery tonight, perhaps something not quite right with his smile, because it hadn’t worked and she had blown him off. Frustrated he had followed her from the bar, thinking it had to be fate when she headed into the parking lot where his car was and clicked her keys at a vehicle parked half a dozen cars away. He’d glanced around, noting the lot was empty and the corner where both their cars were parked was in the shadows, the overhead streetlamp not working, and as she went to get in her car, he had grabbed her from behind, smashing her head against the door.
She had been unconscious for ages and he was beginning to worry maybe he had hit her head a little too hard, perhaps she wouldn’t wake up, but she had eventually come around, slowly realizing the gravity of the situation. He always loved that bit. The moment where he could see it in their eyes they understood how much trouble they were in.
As he teased her with his knife, running the smooth end of the blade across her belly, enjoying the look of terror on her face as she awaited the first cut, the rational part of his brain kicked in, reminding him she shouldn’t be here, that in terms of screwing up, he had gone off the scale.
He knew nothing about her, and for all he knew, she could have a husband or boyfriend waiting at home who would report her missing before morning. And although he was fairly confident he hadn’t been seen, he couldn’t be certain. Add to that he already had a body he needed to deal with and the problems kept adding up. He never should have taken her – he realized that now – but of course it was too late to let her go. She had seen his face and she would go to the police.
Yes, he had made a terrible mistake. Another one he would have to live with. He hadn’t been thinking clearly and the woman on his table would be another problem to deal with in the cold light of day.
She was here now though and when he had finished with her the pressure in his head would ease, allowing him to think clearly and figure out what the hell he was going to do.
He flipped the blade, the cold sharp steel carving a thin trail of ribbon red across the woman’s naval. She bucked on the table, pulling against her bonds, her whimper caught behind the tape covering her mouth, and fat tears spilled down her cheeks.
Running his finger along the bloody knife, he smiled down at her. ‘How about we get this party started?’
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
‘I want to get a gun.’
Alex cut a glance at Nell, immediately disapproving of the idea. ‘You don’t need a gun.’
‘If I have one I’ll feel safer.’
‘You ever fired one before?’
‘No.’ She raised her chin stubbornly. ‘I was thinking you could teach me.’
They were down on the beach, making the most of the fading daylight and what had been a slightly cooler, but still bright and sunny day, as Sasha and Teddy dived in and out of the surf, chasing each other in circles.
The events of Sunday night were behind her sudden desire to get a gun, he understood that. Whoever had been outside the house had achieved their goal of frightening her, and he knew she hated that, four nights later, she was still too scared to stay alone in her own home. A gun might make her feel safer, but it was still a bad idea, especially with her panic attacks.
Alex had been staying with her, though was always early to rise, needing to get back to walk the dogs and wanting to escape before Michael arrived. He and Nell had yet to define what they had between them and by an unspoken pact, had been keeping things quiet. Tonight he was working late and had persuaded her to stay over at his place. Although she would be alone, he felt happier leaving her knowing she had the dogs for protection, as well as the security of closer neighbors. It also didn’t hurt that Michael and Newt were just a five-minute walk along the beach. Neither of them knew about Sunday night’s intruder. Nell hadn’t wanted to worry her brother and, while that rested uncomfortably with Alex, a small selfish part of him knew Michael would be hovering over her like a fly if he knew, making it impossible for them to spend any time together.
He was doing everything he could to find out who was responsible for harassing her, and come dawn, he had completed another sweep of the perimeter of the house, though found nothing.
Lizzie’s brother still sat top of his list and Alex had put one of his deputies in plainclothes, ordered him to follow Sam, at a distance. That had been three days ago and so far Lizzie’s brother hadn’t put a foot wrong. Likewise, there had been no further incidents at the guesthouse – though that was probably because the place had been buzzing during the day as the renovations began. With her brother around during the day and Alex with her at night, Nell was safe. She didn’t need a gun.
‘You do realize that by carrying a firearm you’re more likely to be killed during an attack than if you’re unarmed?’ he pointed out, not liking the idea at all.
‘You carry one.’
‘Because I’m a cop and it’s my job. I’ve been trained how to use it.’
‘So you could train me.’
‘It’s not just about knowing how to fire a gun, Nell. If you found yourself in a situation where you had to shoot someone, could you actually pull the trigger?’
‘Could you? Have you?’
‘I have once,’ Alex admitted. ‘Armed guy holding up a gas station; he had hostages and was threatening to shoot them.’
‘Did you kill him?’
‘I punctured his lung, but he survived and was able to stand trial.’ He caught hold of Nell’s hand, pulled her round to face him. The evening breeze was blowing through her hair, her cheeks glowing and her amber eyes burning bright as she looked at him. ‘If you have a gun and you’re in a situation where you need to defend yourself, if you hesitate to pull the trigger, that’s how you end up dead.’
‘So, I wouldn’t hesitate.’
Alex cupped her face with his free hand, tracing the pout of her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. ‘That’s what bothers me. I worry that you would.’
Her eyes hardened slightly, annoyed he wasn’t backing down.
‘I’m going to get a gun,’ she sniffed. ‘You can help me with that or I can figure out how to use it by myself.’
He relented on Friday.
Nell had said she was going to get a gun, with or without his help, and Alex knew she wasn’t bluffing. If he couldn’t stop her carrying, he figured he would rest more comfortably if she at least knew how to use the thing.
He had stopped by the guesthouse, found Michael out on a supplies run and Nell upstairs in one of the third floor bedrooms, two steps up a ladder, wearing jeans and a checked shirt, hair scooped back in a red bandana, her blond curls spilling out of the back, as she carefully applied emulsion to the coving. Loud music was playing on her phone, and she was wiggling her ass between strokes to the sound of Blondie. Slipping quietly into the room, he waited until she had dipped her brush back in the tin, before grabbing her from behind and pulling her down into his arms. Momentarily startled, she lost her grip on the brush, the brief look of panic on her face bubbling into laughter as she realized it was him. Still she gave him a playful swipe as he righted her on her feet.
‘You idiot, sneaking up on me like that. I could have stabbed you with my paintbrush.’
The room was a soft pale grey and offset nicely against the brilliant white coving.
‘You look like Axl Rose,’ he commented, touching the bandana.
‘My homage to the eighties,’ she told him dryly, nodding to the phone, as Debbie Harry sang ‘One Way or Another’, linking her arms around his neck and leaning in for a kiss. ‘Is this a social visit or are you here on business?’
Alex reached up and rubbed at the smudge of paint on her nose. ‘It’s a little of both actually.’ When Nell cocked a brow, he elaborated. ‘We’ll head over to the mainland and get you a firearm tomorrow then we’ll go to the shooting range and I’ll teach you to use it.’
‘Really?’ Her face lit up.
‘I’m not going to pretend I’m happy about it,’ he cautioned. ‘If it were up to me, you wouldn’t have a gun at all. I figure you’re going to get one with or without my help though, and I want to be sure you know how to use it.’
‘Thank you.’ She hugged him tightly. Holding her close against him, his hands roamed down over her butt.
Footsteps in the hallway, the creak of the floorboard then a loud cough had both Alex and Nell looking up. Michael stood in the doorway watching them, his jaw agape.
‘Why have you got your hands on my sister’s ass?’ he demanded.
‘Michael, don’t overreact,’ Nell urged, pulling away from the embrace, clearly startled by his sudden arrival. ‘There’s something we need to talk about.’
Michael ignored her, turning in the doorway, hands on head, clearly thinking things through, the pieces slotting into place.
‘Seriously, really?’ He disappeared into the hallway.
‘Michael?’
Alex pulled her back. ‘Let me go talk to him.’
He followed his friend out of the bedroom, found him pacing the landing, his face flushed. ‘How long?’ he demanded, as Alex pulled the door closed behind him, leaving Nell inside.
‘Since Saturday night,’ Alex admitted, figuring honestly was now the best policy.
‘You’re sleeping with her?’
‘I am.’
Michael’s face turned a deeper shade of red and he swore under his breath. ‘And you didn’t think to run that piece of information by me?’
