Her Silent Shadow: A Gripping Psychological Suspense Collection

by Edwin Dasso

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she snapped.

  “Jesus, Claire, I said no. Now for once in your pathetic life, take the fucking hint.”

  A ripple of pain flickered across Claire’s face, and she stumbled back toward the car. She fell into the passenger’s seat and slammed the door. Through the open window, Claire’s friend shot Noah a one-fingered salute.

  “You’re a real prick, you know that?”

  Noah said nothing. Tires squealed as the car took off, racing out of the lot.

  Not a moment too soon, it turned out as Noah heard another thump from inside the trunk. Eden was awake.

  12

  The town of Mt. Angel lay forty minutes southeast of Portland. According to the clock tower in the center of town, it was shortly after one as Noah drove slowly through the heart of the small Bavarian village. The windows of the businesses lining the sleepy streets were dark as Noah sailed out of town, past the Abbey, headed for home.

  Gravel rumbled beneath his tires as he turned off onto a dead-end road. Backed up against the heavily forested grounds of the Abbey, there were few neighbors to contend with. No cars wandered up this lonely strip unless they were bound for a specific destination, which made it just about as close to perfect as he could hope for and still be within commuting distance to work.

  Set back from the road, the driveway dipped into the bottom of a small gully. The surrounding trees provided the kind of privacy he craved. No pedestrians. No neighbors close by. Nothing to worry about. Next to the side entrance, Noah pulled to a stop.

  Exiting the car, he opened the trunk. The second shot of Ketamine he’d given her after Claire had driven off had done the trick. Eden was still out. Noah unlocked the door to the house and propped it open, then he lifted Eden from the trunk.

  Despite what romantics would say, carrying a fully grown unconscious woman was hard work. By the time Noah made it down the basement stairs, he was sweating. Breathing hard, he gently laid her on the bed and took a step back.

  A rush of warmth flooded through him as the magnitude of this moment took hold. The hours of meticulous planning and preparation had paid off. He’d done it. She was actually here—in this house, in this room he’d so lovingly prepared.

  Eden’s red curls spilled across the soft golden comforter. Noah bent, brushing a few strands from her face, straightening her clothes, and positioning her limbs, until she looked exactly the way he’d imagined she would. Sleeping peacefully in this room he’d painted a sunny shade of yellow. The teal accent pillows propped behind her head matched the blue-green shade of her eyes. He’d staged the room to look like a picture he’d seen in a magazine, determined to get every detail right.

  Noah couldn’t wait for her to awaken, to see all that he had done, all he had sacrificed for her. She’d never know about the backbreaking work it had taken to soundproof the room. The new drywall. The fresh paint. The heavy-duty steel door he’d lugged down into the basement and installed by himself with a deadbolt that locked from the outside. He’d even scrubbed and painted the tiny bathroom with a sink, a toilet and a standup shower. Everything she would need.

  Noah fussed with the items he’d placed on the bedside table—the plastic vase filled with flowers beside the romance novels he’d picked up from the secondhand bookstore, knowing that she’d need some way to fill her days while he was at work. He’d thought of everything.

  Noah laid on the bed beside her, listening to her breathe. How many times had he dreamed of this? The two of them, inches apart? He reached toward her and smoothed his hand over her face. Her skin slid beneath his fingers like silk, as soft as a butterfly’s wings. Her warm breath fanned across his hand and something stirred, awakening a hunger inside him. He knew it was time to leave, while he still could.

  Eden needed her sleep. Tomorrow they would start their life together. At first, she would be surprised and maybe a little upset by what he had done. It was only natural that she would feel this way. But soon, when she understood how much he loved her, things would settle down and they would begin their real life together.

  Noah climbed the stairs into the main part of the house. Although it was late, and his body was drained from the night’s activities, he was too wired to sleep. His thoughts were too full of her.

  With his phone cupped in his palm, Noah laid down on the couch and launched his photo application. In it, he found the pictures of Eden he’d downloaded from her social media sites. Grazing his thumb across the screen, he scrolled through them. Savoring the sweetness of each one. Eden at Powell’s bookstore, and he could imagine himself there with her, the two of them scouring the shelves, looking for novels they would read together. After the bookstore, they’d stop for brunch at the Original. Eden was addicted to their French toast, and then after some window shopping at Pioneer Place they would return home. He thought about how they’d stretch out on the couch together, their legs intertwined, her foot resting in his lap while they spent a lazy afternoon reading.

  Noah clicked on the application that showed a live feed of the surveillance cameras he’d installed in Eden’s room. It was so peaceful, watching her sleep. The gentle sounds of her breaths rising and falling, like waves breaking on the shore. As the misty gray of dawn slid through the living room windows, Noah rose.

  By the time morning arrived, Noah hadn’t slept a wink, but that was okay. The thought of seeing her energized him. Wanting everything for her first morning in her new home to be perfect, Noah left the house and drove to a neighborhood bakery. They made the best croissants. The buttery rolls were still warm in the bag when he arrived home. Arranging the pastries on a tray, he made a cup of Eden’s favorite winter spice tea that he’d picked up from a specialty shop in Portland. Social media offered so many opportunities to learn about her likes and dislikes. It provided a portal into her world.

  Tray in hand, Noah descended the stairs. At the sound of the door closing, Eden stirred. Her eyelashes fluttered open and she caught sight of him, sitting on the floor with his back pressed against the wall. Watching her.

  Jerking upright on the bed, she startled. Panic flooded her wide eyes. Her scream jolted Noah into action. He sprang up from the floor and rushed toward her, covering her mouth with his palm. An intense series of conflicting emotions rippled through Noah. Fear. Hope. Love. They were all so intertwined, all so close to the surface that he could barely process each before the next wave hit him.

  “Shhh… Shhh… Eden. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

  She stilled. He pulled his hand away from her mouth. Eden stared at him.

  “Where am I? Where the fuck—”

  “No. Don’t be afraid.”

  Her terrified gaze seemed to take in everything all at once. She was breathing hard, but so was he. Adrenaline pumped through his system, making him feel so incredibly alive.

  Noah pulled in a breath, struggling to slow his heart, to show her that he was calm, in control of his emotions and that everything was going to be all right.

  “Please, Eden, I know all of this is confusing, but you’ve got to know… You’ve got to know how much I love you, how much I’ve always loved you.”

  He was staring down into the blue-green sea of her eyes. Tears spilled over her lashes and slid in warm rivulets down her porcelain cheeks. Seeing her fear cut a fissure through his soul, and he felt his own fear spike in response.

  This wasn’t how it was supposed happen. She wasn’t supposed to cry. But no. He’d expected her to be upset, and when girls were upset, they cried. He remembered how his parents used to argue and afterwards, his mother cried. Besides, crying wasn’t always bad. Tears could be happy. Tears of joy.

  Noah swallowed his fear and stared deeply into Eden’s eyes. She scuttled to the edge of the bed and pulled her legs up to her chest, as if afraid that he might touch her. It was hard not to resent the inference. If he’d wanted to hurt her, he would have already done so. She must have realized that by now.

  “What am I doing h
ere?”

  Noah dropped his gaze to his folded hands. They were trembling.

  “We need some time together, Eden. Some time for you to see how much… how much you mean to me.”

  Eden’s distrustful gaze never wavered. He reached toward her. She recoiled with a whimper. He dropped his hand to the bed, stung by the rejection. The horror he saw in her eyes caused his anger to stir. She wasn’t the first woman he’d known to look at him that way.

  But then, Eden wasn’t anything like his mother. Of course she was scared. This was the beginning, and beginnings were uncertain. He needed to be patient. It wouldn’t always be like this. In time, he would prove to her that it was going to be okay.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  Eden shook her head.

  “I brought you croissants and fruit.”

  Eden shook her head again. Mussed red ringlets clung to her wet cheeks. He wanted to brush them away but didn’t dare, not after the way she’d recoiled from his touch.

  “You need to eat. I’ll leave your breakfast here. Get some rest. I’ll be back later.”

  Noah left the room. Locking the door behind him, he pressed his ear to the cold metal surface and heard the faint sounds of her sobs. The heat of anger flared within his chest.

  She was spoiled. She needed discipline. Tough love. He would teach her. He would be strong.

  13

  Eden did not rest. She did not love the room he’d built for her. She threw the contents of the breakfast tray against the wall and hunkered down in a corner until she’d cried herself out. Then she’d spent the rest of the morning prowling every inch of the room, looking for some means to escape.

  It was futile. Noah had built the room himself. It was fully secure, and by mid-afternoon Eden had collapsed on the bed at last and had fallen into a fitful sleep.

  Noah had watched the drama unfold on his phone. He could switch cameras, providing him different angles of the room. The only place he hadn’t put cameras was in the bathroom. He wasn’t a perv.

  The birds eye view of her unravelling was distressing, of course. He supposed it had been naïve of him to underestimate how upset she’d be. More than once, he’d stopped himself from going downstairs, from putting an end to the destruction, from comforting her or admonishing her for the mess she was making. Instead, he’d reconciled himself to the idea that, like a raging child in time out, she needed time to act out her feelings.

  Still, as he surveyed the wreckage of the room, the tea spilled on the floor, the croissants he’d so lovingly bought her growing stale, the sticky sweet jam staining the wall like blood, it was tough not to feel slighted. Unappreciated. She didn’t seem to grasp the effort that had gone into making her feel at home.

  It didn’t matter. Love meant sacrifice. He saw it in the mall every day, how some mothers would prioritize the needs of their children over their own. His mother wasn’t the type of woman to put her son first, but one day, when they had children of their own, Eden would come to understand what it meant to sacrifice. But for now, he alone would shoulder the burden.

  Noah waited until after the sun had set, and Eden had gone a full day without eating before descending the stairs. He opened the door. The plastic vase came flying across the room. Noah ducked. The vase ricocheted off the edge of the door frame and went skittering down the hall. He shook his head and locked the door behind him, tucking the key into the front pocket of his jeans.

  “Now is that anyway for a lady to behave?”

  He leaned back against the door and folded his arms. Eden was hunkered down on the far wall, sweating, shaking. Her wild tangle of hair reminded him of the copper Brillo pads his mother used to scrub their old cast iron pans.

  “You’re hypoglycemic, Eden. You need to eat.”

  Eden didn’t respond. The silence between them seemed to stretch out forever before Noah pushed away from the door. He shoved his hands in his pockets and ran his gaze around the room.

  “I’m heading upstairs to make dinner. If you want to eat, you’ll clean up this mess.” He inclined his head toward the jam stain on the wall. “I want everything stacked on the tray by the door. Understand?”

  Eden didn’t move. Pulling the key from his pocket, he fit it into the lock.

  “Oh, and you’ll take a shower and brush your teeth. There’s shampoo and soap in the bathroom.”

  No sooner had Noah opened the door when he heard the chime of the doorbell rip through the silent house. The unexpected sound of it sent a bolt of fear ripping through him. Eden heard it too. She leapt to her feet and rushed the door. Noah shoved her back. He slammed the door closed and engaged the lock. The hammer blows of her fists thumped ineffectually against the metal as he stepped away.

  He climbed the stairs and peeked through the filmy curtain covering the window. Noah stood in the doorway, heart racing, limbs frozen.

  The cop had a flashlight and was peering through the windows of his car, and honestly, Noah couldn’t remember what the fuck he’d done with Eden’s purse.

  With a chill, he realized that it was probably still inside the car, in the trunk, along with the backpack containing duct tape, zip ties and ketamine. He’d meant to get rid of it, but in all the excitement of Eden’s arrival, he’d forgotten. It was an unforgiveable lapse of judgement; one he would remedy right away if and when he got the chance.

  Noah strained his ears, listening hard for any noise coming from the basement. All the work he’d done to soundproof the room had paid off. The only noise he heard was the rapid-fire pounding of his own heart. He took a second to compose himself before opening the door.

  “What brings you out all this way, Officer?”

  He did his best to sound casual, and the cop turned his back on the car.

  “You are?” the officer asked.

  He clicked the flashlight off and returned it to his duty belt. Dead leaves crunched like bones beneath the cop’s feet as he approached the door. Noah licked his lips and offered a smile.

  “Sam Cooper.”

  “Mr. Cooper,” the cop said.

  He stood at the base of the stairs. His feet were shoulder width apart, his hand resting at his side, inches away from the holster. “The neighbors reported seeing a strange vehicle in the driveway. This car is registered to a Noah Hall. Is he here?”

  Noah’s throat went suddenly dry. “Noah’s my cousin. He left on a backpacking trip yesterday. I dropped him off at the trailhead. He didn’t want to leave his car there, so I took it.”

  It was just the right amount of detail, Noah thought. Enough to sound plausible, and not too much. Liars often made the mistake of saying too much. The officer nodded.

  “Are the Webbers home?”

  Noah shook his head. “They took off in an RV last week. Heading to Alaska, I think. They asked me to watch the place while they’re gone.”

  “Strange time of year to be heading north.”

  Noah didn’t like the way the cop’s gaze bore into him. He felt a coil of anxiety at the pit of his gut ratchet another notch tighter. He grinned and flipped his hand in a palms-up shrug.

  “Who the hell knows. Might be a bucket-list kind of thing.”

  “Are you family?”

  “Me? No, they were looking for a house sitter and found me through a friend of a friend.”

  “How long did you say they were gone?”

  “Four weeks. Maybe six. Depends on the weather I suppose and how far north they get.”

  “So you’re housesitting for a couple you don’t know, and you have your cousin’s car?”

  “I guess I’m the kind of guy that people trust.” Noah offered a self-effacing grin.

  And now he’d told two lies that needed to be true. He was Sam Cooper and the Webbers had embarked upon and epic road trip north. The cop peered around Noah’s shoulder, into the hallway.

  “Mind if I come inside?”

  He didn’t want the cop anywhere near the house, let alone inside. But a refusal might raise suspicio
ns.

  “I’m kind of a slob,” Noah said with a shaky laugh. “And my son’s napping.”

  “Son?”

  “Yeah, it’s my week to have the kiddo. He’s three.”

  “Divorced?”

  “Never married. He wasn’t exactly planned, if you know what I mean, and let me tell you, the kid’s hell on wheels if he doesn’t nap. Took me forever to get him asleep. You got kids?”

  “Yeah. A daughter. She’s five,” the officer said with a chuckle. “I feel your pain.”

  Noah smiled and bobbed his head. “Good to hear the neighbors are looking out for each other. Makes me feel safer, especially with the kid. They must not have known about the Webber’s vacation plans.”

  “Guess not,” the cop said. He shifted his stance and raised his hand in a wave. “I’ll leave you to it.”

  For the first time since spying the cop in the driveway, Noah felt the hitch in his chest ease, allowing him to breathe easy.

  “Thanks, Officer.”

  The cop’s heavy footsteps crunched along the gravel driveway. With his hand on the door of the cruiser, he paused and looked back at Noah.

  “Oh, one more thing, Mr. Cooper. You got a number for the Webbers?”

  For an instant, Noah froze. He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his cell phone. Pretending to scroll through his contacts, he recited the number to his cell phone.

  “Good luck getting in touch with them. They called me this morning to check on things. Call dropped. You know what reception is like in the mountains.”

  The cop smiled. “I do indeed.”

  A muffled crash came from inside the house. Noah’s stomach turned to ice.

  “Guess who’s not sleeping,” the cop said.

  “Yeah, he likes to throw his books around. I’d better go check on him.”

  14

  Noah clutched the gun tightly in his hand. The reassuring weight of it filled his palm as he paced the darkened living room. The cop had left. It was a good sign, but the idea that he might return filled Noah with a gnawing sense of dread.