The One Who Watches

by Emerald O'Brien

  “Exactly,” Alessia said. “Let’s give him space.”

  Mrs. Holden sighed loudly and marched past Mr. Holden out of the room. They all followed and caught up with her in the hallway.

  “Nicole,” Mr. Holden said, resting his hand on her lower back until she slowed down.

  “I know,” she whispered to him. “It’s just hard.”

  As they continued down the hallway toward the waiting room, Madigan slowed down before her usual spot, opening her mouth to tell them goodbye.

  “Madigan,” Mrs. Holden said, turning back around, “we’re going to get some breakfast. We’d love if you came with us, our treat, so we can catch up.”

  Mr. Holden gave her a warm smile. “It would be great to have you with us.”

  Aleesia stared at the wall, gripping at her purse over her shoulder.

  “I appreciate that, but I need to stay here for my friend. I want to be here when she wakes up. Her parents are away and won’t get back until later today at the earliest.”

  “That’s sweet of you,” Mrs. Holden said. “Well, we miss you.”

  Madigan nodded with a smile. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you here, okay? We can catch up over coffee.”

  “Good.” Mrs. Holden grabbed her husband’s hand, and he waved to her before they continued down the hall.

  Aleesia nodded goodbye and followed close behind them.

  Did they want me to come, or did they feel obligated to invite me because I was following behind them? Maybe they really want me in their lives.

  Maybe I can be, once I get over Jack…

  “Miss?” a nurse called from the nurse’s station. “Your friend is being moved to room 212 shortly. It’s just down the hall. I’ll let you know when you can see her.”

  “Thank you.”

  I’ll stay right outside your room until you’re awake, and then maybe you can tell me what happened to you.

  And I can finally tell you how sorry I am for failing you.

  Thirty-Six

  Grace pulled up in front of the burnt house at the end of the street as her phone rang. She checked the screen.

  The number for Professor Redding.

  “Detective Sheppard speaking.”

  “Hello, this is Professor David Redding, returning your message. May I ask what this is in regard to?”

  Movement in her rearview mirror caught her eye as Mac pulled up and parked behind her.

  “This is regarding an investigation related to Charles Gaines, the father of one of your previous students, Donelle Gaines.”

  “Oh-kay. So this isn’t about Donelle?”

  “Not exactly. I’d appreciate it if you came down to the Tall Pines police station in about an hour to talk. I can explain more then.”

  “Am I—legally required to?”

  “No. This is just a favor.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, I can be there in about two hours.”

  “Thank you. Just ask for me when you arrive.”

  “I will. Goodbye.”

  She ended the call and stepped out of the car, beside Mac. “That was the professor. He’ll meet with us in two hours at the station.”

  “Good. That’s good.”

  They turned toward the debris and some of the structure left of Raven’s house and stepped under the yellow tape. As they crossed over piles of the wreckage, they navigated their way toward the backyard.

  “She won’t be able to live here again,” Mac said. “This is a total write-off. She’s lost everything.”

  Grace stood in front of the back window and turned around. “The neighbours next door can’t see into the backyard for those trees. The ones to the back are down the hill. The privacy works against us here. There’s no logical way someone could have seen anyone in this backyard last night, especially in the dark.”

  “You see how this window is completely void of glass here?” Mac walked toward it and pointed to the bottom sill. “But there’s some on the sides and top still attached. That’s why the firemen first thought something could have been tampered with back here.”

  “The person who broke in wouldn’t have cut themselves on the glass down here on the sill as they climbed in, but if the glass broke ahead of the fire, Raven would have certainly heard it. As soon as she’s awake, I need to know what she heard and saw.”

  “The firemen said she was on the couch in the front living room. This window is right off the kitchen. Living room is to the left and back over.”

  “She’d have definitely heard the glass break. Upstairs would have been another story.”

  “Unless she’s a really deep sleeper,” Mac said, turning to her. “They said she had over ten candles lit in just the one room. If one knocked over, or a spark caught something flammable, that’s all it would take.”

  “And if someone tipped one over on purpose, that’s all it would take, too, in theory.” She eyed him and continued, “But if someone wanted to make sure she didn’t get out alive, they’d knock over more than one candle.”

  “They could have added accelerant to the fire.”

  “But we’d find that, and it wouldn’t look like an accident anymore.”

  “Right.” Mac folded his arms and studied the sill. “Forensics took samples, so if someone was cut getting in there, they’ll find out.”

  “If she woke up, the person would have had to subdue her. Suffocate her or drug her in a way that made her pass out, or they wouldn’t have had time to set everything on fire, and she would have tried to escape instead of being found on that couch.”

  “Tarek’ll have the photos from the scene processed by now. Let’s go to the station and check them out before the professor comes.”

  Grace’s gaze lingered on the windowsill as Mac navigated through the debris.

  The firemen couldn’t get in because of the door stoppers, so the windows would have been the only access for anyone. If someone got in and caused the fire, they went through there, no witnesses out here.

  They must have known she was alone, and they could have done anything to her. She might have been through much more than this fire.

  “I’m Madigan Knox, Grace Sheppard’s sister.”

  The officer at the door nodded. “I’m Officer Malone. Mac said you’d be coming. If Raven’s okay with it, you go ahead.”

  “Thanks.” Madigan stepped into the room. “Raven?” she called from around the corner. “It’s Madigan. Am I okay to come in?”

  “Yes,” Raven’s low voice came from around the corner, and a coughing fit followed.

  Madigan walked in and stood at the end of Raven’s bed. Plastic tubes tucked inside her nose, and the covers had been pulled up to her shoulders like Jack’s. Her eyes stared back at Madigan from her swollen face with pink patches across it.

  What’s under there? How bad is it? One of them had it worse. If Jack wasn’t burned, it had to be her.

  “I’m glad to see you.” Raven wheezed. “Come over here so I don’t have to talk so loud.”

  Madigan walked to her bedside and sat on the chair. “I’m so sorry about this.”

  “You have… nothing to be sorry for,” Raven huffed. “I—I can’t believe this happened. I left the candles lit. I’m so stupid.” She gasped for air, leading to a coughing fit.

  I feel terrible making her talk, but Grace asked to be called as soon as Raven could speak. We have to find out who did this.

  “My house,” she wheezed. “Is it…bad?”

  “I haven’t been back there,” Madigan said. “I’ve just been here waiting with you, and I’m going to be here any time you need me.”

  Raven gave a small nod and closed her eyes as tears slipped down the sides of her head.

  “Raven, can I call Grace and put her on speaker? She wants to hear what happened.”

  “Yes,” Raven whispered.

  Madigan tapped Grace’s number and the speakerphone option. As it rang, Raven opened her eyes.

  “Any news?” Grace asked.

  “Raven’s a
wake, and she’s able to talk, but just for a bit. You’re on speakerphone.”

  “Raven, how are you?”

  “I’ll be fine,” she wheezed and took shallow breaths before speaking again. “Just need time.”

  “Yes, you need to rest and heal.”

  Raven looked up at Madigan. “My parents. Has anyone—”

  “Your phone was in your pocket. I called them and they’re travelling to get here. Might not be until tonight, but they know, and they’re on the way.”

  Raven’s head rested deeper into the pillow, and she closed her eyes. “Can you give me my phone? I want to call them soon.”

  “Of course.” Madigan dug Raven’s cell phone out of her bag and handed it to her.

  “Raven,” Grace said, “what was the last thing you remember?”

  Raven closed her eyes again. “I was so tired. I could finally sleep. I—”

  “Take your time,” Grace said.

  “I lit candles. Took a bath.” She paused to regain her breath. “Went to sleep on the couch.”

  “Okay, good.”

  “No. I was too tired.” Raven gasped. “I forgot the candles.”

  She coughed, taking short gasps of air, and they waited until she could breathe again before Grace spoke. “Almost done for now. Raven, can you focus on the time between when you fell asleep and when you woke up? What woke you up?”

  “The heat,” Raven whispered and frowned. “No. There was a noise.” Her low voice helped her force out the words. “I heard something, but then I didn’t hear anything, and I was so tired, I fell back asleep.”

  “What did the noise sound like?”

  “Something falling? Breaking? I went back to sleep…and then it felt hot. Then I heard crackling.” Tears slid down her temples onto the pillow.

  “Grace?” Madigan said. “Maybe we could save the rest for when you’re here in person?”

  “Yes, okay, just one more question if you’re up for it, Raven?”

  “Okay,” Raven whispered.

  “Did you see, hear, or feel that anyone was in your home with you?”

  Raven opened her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “Was anyone with you when it happened? Anyone in your house you knew or didn’t know?”

  “The flames… surrounded me, and I was… screaming out for help. It was… hard to see through the smoke. I got on the ground and… then I saw boots. Then I heard a man’s voice.”

  “What did he say?” Grace asked.

  “He told me he was there to help me. Not to be scared. To do what he said.”

  “Did you know him?”

  “It was a fireman,” Raven said. “Two sets of boots. Two of them.”

  Jack.

  “The one who was talking… picked me up. It was so hot. Too hot and I couldn’t breathe…”

  Madigan pulled the phone toward her. “Okay, Grace?”

  “Yes. Raven, you rest up, and thank you for speaking to me. Putting up with me and my questions.”

  “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?” Madigan asked.

  “Okay, take care you guys.”

  Madigan ended the call, and Raven swallowed hard. “I should have been more careful with the candles. My mother—she’s going to be so mad at me. She always said—” coughing interrupted her words, and a nurse rushed in.

  “Okay,” she said, “that’s enough for now. You need to rest.”

  “I’ll be right outside. I’m not leaving,” Madigan said over Raven’s coughs as the nurse ushered her out and continued tending to Raven.

  I want to tell her it might not have been her fault at all, but I don’t want to scare her—make things worse. I’ll ask Grace what she thinks next time we talk. Maybe she’ll know more by then.

  As she walked back to the waiting room, she turned over her shoulder, eyeing Jack’s room with the door half-closed.

  The gratitude in her voice as she spoke about Jack, even after everything and the pain she’s in.

  She’s so strong. She’s going to be okay.

  She has to be.

  Thirty-Seven

  “I was sorry to hear about Tyler’s death,” Professor Redding said.

  Grace stood by the interrogation room door, her arms crossed as Mac leaned against the table between him and the professor. “Did you remember he was a student of yours right away?”

  “I did. I’ve been following his work since he graduated.”

  “Were you close?” Grace asked.

  “Well, not particularly, no.” Redding sat back a bit, positioning himself to see them both at once. “We didn’t keep in touch. Is this about something that happened in college?”

  “What do you mean?” Mac asked.

  “I can’t figure out why you’d want to talk to me about Tyler Gibbons unless it has something to do with college.”

  “Can you be more specific?” Mac asked.

  “I don’t understand what you want from me, but I could be of more use if I knew.”

  “You also had a Donelle Gaines in that same class, is that right?” Grace asked.

  “I did. Is this regarding what happened to her? Do you think Tyler had something to do with it?”

  “Do you?” Grace asked.

  “In the literal sense, I suppose not. Emotionally, I saw what a toll they took on her.”

  “They?”

  “Tyler and his friend Joel.”

  “What about them?” Mac asked.

  “They were the typical popular guys in high school who never grew out of the clique in college. Studies and the program never seemed as important to them as partying, although Tyler certainly kept his marks up. How he did it is another matter.”

  “And how did he do it?”

  “I think he had some natural smarts and talent, sure, but I caught him using work from other students, namely Donelle and another young man, Mr. Williams.”

  “Could you tell us more?”

  “Mr. Williams and Donelle were two different, separate cases sharing something in common. Derek Williams took action when he found out and reported it. Took the steps to notify me. Donelle Gaines traded her work to fit in. To be one of them.”

  “What did they have in common?” Mac asked.

  “They were both tricked into it from the start. It happened to Derek; he told me so, and then Donelle. Tyler and Joel made them feel like they were friends. That it was just what friends did, working together, learning from each other. All the while, they stole ideas and claimed them as their own.”

  “So Donelle was smart,” Mac said and leaned in further.

  “Top of the class—at the beginning. Then, once Derek shook off the coattail riders, he became top of class once they leeched onto Donelle.” He shook his head. “They brought her down. That’s the toll they took on her. They brought her to their level, prioritizing parties over the program. They used her, and she let them.” He threw his hands up and huffed. “They made her depressed, unfocused, contributed to her lack of motivation. I could go on… She had so much potential. Women in the program didn’t have the opportunities she did back in my day. I wanted more for her.” He looked from Grace to Mac and covered his mouth with his hand, leaning back against his chair.

  Looks like someone else cared about Donelle and the bad path she seemed to be heading down, other than her father.

  “You think they made her depressed,” Mac said.

  “Yes, but I thought that was already established when I was asked about this case three years ago.”

  “You told the detective about that?” Grace asked.

  In his statement, he had said she was more withdrawn from her studies before she passed, but it was a short statement. He’s already giving more than was in the report.

  “Well, more or less. Have you found something else? Some evidence of Tyler’s involvement?”

  “We can’t discuss that,” Grace said, “but please know you’ve been a help.”

  He nodded once and stood. “If you ever have any more questions ab
out Tyler, let me know.”

  “Thank you,” Grace said.

  As he walked to the door, she opened it and let him walk out.

  “Weren’t you going to ask him about these other deaths?” Mac asked.

  “He’s excited right now, either because he’s guilty and thinks he’s getting away with it, or because he’s helping us out. I need him to stay that way right now while I look into some other possibilities.”

  “Such as?”

  “There were some one-liners in Donelle’s case that the detective wrote in the report. Didn’t seem to mean much, but I realized one was about a janitor who was also questioned. It’s the only person I haven’t spoken to because I only had a first name. I’m going to find him.”

  Thirty-Eight

  Madigan tapped on the hospital room door twice, and after no answer, she peered inside. “Jack? It’s Madigan.”

  Jack lay in bed in a similar position to when she had been in his room that morning, eyes closed and hooked up to a monitor with oxygen tubes pushing air into his nose. Madigan stepped in softly and sat on the chair beside him.

  He risks his life all the time to save people, and he can’t help them all, but he saved Raven. They both got out. Both going to be okay.

  After all the things that have happened to me lately, this is something I have to be grateful for.

  What would I do without him? He’s not part of my everyday life, but I think about him. Wish we could be together. He’s always been there for me when I’ve needed him, and even when I don’t think I do.

  But he’s engaged.

  Even as one of my dearest, oldest friends, we share so many memories, beautiful and sad, and if he died, I’d be the only one left to remember those times with him and Drew.

  And he came so close…

  “Hey,” his raspy voice whispered to her.

  “You’re awake.” She smiled and crossed one leg over the other, letting go of the grip she realized she had on the arms of the chair. “You’ve been sleeping for a long time.”

  “Mmm,” he groaned. “I was up a bit ago. The guys came to visit. Told me I saved her.”