The One Who Watches

by Emerald O'Brien

  Grace pulled up in front of Roger’s bungalow, and Malone parked behind her. She removed the key from the ignition, and rain splattered against the windshield, pouring down, obstructing her view ahead. Thunder rumbled through the sky as she got out of her car and met Malone on the driveway, jogging up to the door with him.

  “Again, no car,” he said.

  I noticed. “Maybe in the garage.”

  She knocked on the door, waited a few seconds, and pounded against it several times.

  “It’s dark in there. I don’t think anyone’s home.”

  Grace nodded and hit Tarek’s name on her phone screen.

  “Hello?”

  “Me again. Can you send me the address of Roger Ellis’ dad? He owns a welding shop.”

  “Sure, I’ll send it.”

  “Thanks again.”

  “I’ll follow you?” Malone asked.

  She nodded, and they jogged down the driveway as lighting cracked against the dark sky in the distance.

  On the drive to Roger’s dad’s home, water ran down the city streets, into the sewers, and the pressure to find Roger intensified as Malone radioed to her.

  “Nothing on the BOLO, yet,” he said.

  The two places he’s most likely to go, aside from escaping, are to find Raven and Daniel Newcomb.

  She called Officer Vila, and the phone rang three times before he answered.

  “Vila, give me an update.”

  “All quiet here.”

  “Is my sister there?”

  “She is. She’s in the waiting room, but she’s probably sleeping. Most people are around here.”

  “I need you to be on high alert. There’s a suspect of mine with a vendetta against Raven—it’s the reason you’re there—and I need you to report anything you see back to me. Have Tarek send you his picture.”

  “Got it.”

  “If you see Madigan, tell her to stay close to Raven too.”

  “Ten-four.”

  She tapped Daniel Newcomb’s name in her phone, but it forwarded her right to his voicemail. “Mr. Newcomb. It’s Detective Grace Sheppard again. As soon as you get reception, could you please call me? This is urgent.”

  She hung up, and for the rest of the drive, the thunder and lighting shook her to her core, keeping her on edge until she reached the outskirts of the city. She turned onto a quiet street, and Malone followed behind her.

  I want to talk to Mac, but I don’t want to wake him.

  I’m not even hung up on the fact that he didn’t tell me about his talk with Banning. I just wish he could be with me—talk things through. He’d tell me to stick to the facts.

  I know the Facebook post Gaines made sounded threatening, but enough to trigger the person responsible for Donelle’s death to take defensive action? I don’t know…

  I know the custodian heard voices, one he recognized, and Roger’s voice would be the most recognizable to everyone at Tall Pines College.

  I know Roger went out to grab lunch for his dad on the day of Tyler’s crash, and he didn’t take too long, but it was long enough if he had a plan and knew what he was doing. The shop is close enough to Tyler and Joel’s office building.

  He tried to paint Tyler and Joel as the bad ones. Sympathized with Charles Gaines.

  He had his arm wrapped around Donelle in a picture while times with her and the group were still good. She distanced herself from the group not long after.

  She pulled into Roger’s dad’s driveway, and Malone parked on the road behind her.

  Why would Roger have been at the college after dark the night Donelle died? No one saw him. The custodian may have heard him, but no one can place him there, and there’s no motive.

  She stepped out of the car, and Malone jogged up the driveway toward her.

  One car in the driveway.

  They knocked on the door, stepping back and waiting.

  The door opened, and Roger’s dad stood in his robe, holding a baseball bat at his side. “What’s going on? Hey, I recognize you.”

  “Mr. Ellis, I’m Detective Sheppard. I came by your business the other day to speak to your son, Roger.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “I’m looking for him. It’s about a serious matter, but I can’t get in touch with him. I was hoping you knew where he was, or could try calling him for me?”

  “At this hour? He’s probably sleeping like I was.” He squinted at her and set the bat down by the door. “Oh, or maybe he’s out havin’ some fun. Took his first vacation of the year.”

  “When?”

  “Started yesterday. What’s this about? Should I be worried?”

  “Where did he go?”

  “Said he was taking his new girlfriend out of town for the week. I didn’t ask where.”

  “Do you have her phone number?”

  He shook his head. “Don’t even remember her name.”

  “Karen,” Grace said. “If Roger calls, could you ask him where he is and please let us know right away?”

  He nodded, and after handing him her business card, they marched down the driveway, stopping at her car.

  She turned to Malone. “Do you know where detective Danny Newcomb lives now?”

  “Of course. Outskirts of Tall Pines, but he’s on vacation.”

  “I know, but it’s worth going to check out his house. Asking his neighbours if they can get in touch with him.”

  She flipped her notebook to the numbers the group gave her when she and Mac arrived after their dinner get together, and tapped Karen’s number into her phone, hitting call.

  “Hello?” a groggy voice answered.

  “Karen? This is Detective Grace Sheppard. We met the other night.”

  “Hello.” She cleared her throat. “How—what’s going on?”

  “Are you with Roger Ellis?”

  “What? No.”

  “Do you know where he is?”

  “He said he was going on a fishing trip with his dad.”

  Caught him in a lie.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah. He said reception was spotty, so he wasn’t sure if we’d be able to talk until he got back. Haven’t heard from him since last night. Is something wrong?”

  “If you hear from him, find out where he is and then call this number back and let me know.”

  “Okay.”

  Grace ended the call. “Does anyone know where Newcomb went? Anyone at all?”

  “His neighbours might know,” Malone said.

  “We’re going there next, then. How long is it?”

  “No traffic at this time, so two hours? Maybe less?”

  “Let Banning know our sixty. Let’s go.”

  He jogged back to his car, and she slid into hers.

  I need to let Madigan know to be on high alert too.

  As she pulled out of the driveway, she turned her Bluetooth on.

  “Call Madigan.”

  “Calling Madi-gan,” the speaker said.

  Forty-Three

  Madigan lay along four plastic chairs, shoving her bag beneath her head as a pillow, and closing her eyes as rain pattered against the waiting room window.

  He’s just down the hall… right there, but further away than he’s ever been, and it’s my fault. I should have kept my mouth shut.

  Why did I even try? Life or death experiences make people do crazy things. Is that why I did it?

  I thought I’d lose him, and I wanted to make sure he knew how I felt? Did I actually hope we could be together? Why can’t I take the hint from anyone around me? My biological mother. Jack.

  Her phone rang in her pocket and she checked the screen. Grace.

  “Hey.” She sat up on one of the chairs, her side aching from the uncomfortable position.

  “Hey, listen, I’m on the trail of a suspect. It’s someone who might want to hurt Raven.”

  “I thought he was in jail?”

  “He’s being held, yes. This is someone else.”

  “Okay…”


  “I just need you to stay with Raven, okay? Like, keep your eye on her, and if you see anything weird, let me know.”

  “Okay, are you going to tell Officer Vila?”

  “I already spoke with him.”

  “So, who am I watching out for? Grace?”

  “Anyone. Last time, I thought I knew what was going on and who was after Raven, but it could be someone else. Check out the picture of the suspect Vila was sent, but just be observant in general. Anyone who looks like they don’t belong.”

  “Okay. Be careful.”

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  Madigan tucked her phone in her bag and draped the strap over her shoulder as she ambled out of the waiting room toward Raven’s room.

  “Hey,” she said to Vila. “Just checking on her.”

  He nodded and leaned back against his chair as she walked in.

  Melanie stood by the side of Raven’s bed, closest to the door, her silhouette outlined by a flash of lighting through the window.

  She’s just staring at her.

  “Hey,” Madigan hissed. “What are you doing?”

  Melanie jumped and turned around, revealing more of Raven, who was tossing and turning with her eyes closed. “I think she’s having a nightmare.”

  Madigan approached the bed, and Raven groaned, her legs shaking. “We need to wake her up. Raven?”

  “Raven?” Melanie echoed and reached out for her shoulder.

  “Gentle,” Madigan whispered.

  Melanie tapped her shoulder, and Raven’s eyes opened wide as she gasped for air, coughing.

  “You’re okay,” Melanie said, “it was just a dream. You were sleeping.”

  Raven dropped her head against the pillow again and stared up at them.

  “Raven?” Madigan leaned in. “Are you okay?”

  “I saw the man.” Raven gasped.

  “Who?” Melanie asked.

  “There was a man…standing over me… on my couch.”

  “Before the fire?” Madigan asked.

  Raven nodded.

  Madigan hit Grace’s name in her phone, putting it on speaker. “Grace, you’re on speakerphone, and Raven’s here. She says she remembers a man was standing over her on the couch before the fire.”

  “Raven, can you tell me what he looked like?” Grace asked.

  “Young…reddish-brown hair…brown eyes… I didn’t get a good look. He—he put something over my mouth.”

  That’s Roger.

  “Maybe chloroform,” Melanie said.

  “It would explain… why I didn’t remember.”

  That or the smoke inhalation.

  “Madigan, can you give the phone to Officer Vila, please?”

  She heard shuffling and footsteps before Vila’s voice. “Hey.”

  “Listen, I have a suspect with no location on him, and he’s believed to be the man who set Raven’s home on fire. He knows you’re at the hospital. I need you to take Raven out of there and somewhere safe. A motel.”

  “Okay,” he said, “but if he knows she’s here, he could be watching.”

  Good point.

  “And she’s still having trouble breathing,” Madigan added.

  Guess I’m still on speakerphone.

  “We could ask for another officer to come to the hospital as back up,” Grace said.

  “I have an idea,” Madigan said. “What if we take her to a motel in an ambulance? If your suspect is watching, they won’t expect her to be leaving that way. You could get someone to sit outside this room, too. Make it look like she’s still here if he were to come by.”

  “That could work,” Grace said. “But they won’t want her to leave. She’ll have to sign herself out without attracting much attention. Is she in any condition to leave?”

  “I think she can do it,” Madigan said. “We can bring her back when this is over.”

  “Why can’t she just stay here and have back up, like you suggested?” Vila asked.

  “If they know where she is,” Madigan said, “she’s in danger. If they’ve been following her, they know she’s at the hospital.”

  “If they think she’s still there, like Madigan said, it’s our best option right now without knowing for sure who is after her. Okay, Vila, get another officer posted there and then go. Take her to Whitestone Lodge. Stay there until you hear different from me.”

  “You got it, Sheppard,” Vila said.

  “Madigan, you stay with them too. The man we are looking for is Roger Ellis. He has a Facebook profile. Look at his picture. Find out what you can about him, be on the lookout for him or anyone else who seems suspicious before you move her.”

  “I will,” Madigan said.

  Grace ended the call and set the phone in the console beside her.

  Just a bit further and we’ll be at Newcomb’s. If he’s gone on vacation, it’s one less person to worry about, and I’ll go to Raven and make sure she’s protected.

  Roger told Karen he was fishing with his dad. Told his dad he was away with Karen.

  Didn’t tell either person where he really is.

  Could he know where Newcomb is? If he’s been following them, he could.

  He could be with him right now, or he could be at the hospital, waiting for his moment to strike again.

  Forty-Four

  Following Madigan’s plan, the paramedic drove the ambulance carrying Officer Vila in the front, and Melanie, Raven and Madigan in the back, down Main Street toward the Whitestone Lodge. The hospital supplied Raven with an oxygen tank and tubes, insisting she wore it at all times for her breathing. She lay on the stretcher with Melanie by her side.

  Madigan stared out at the road through the back windows, ensuring no one followed them. The empty streets gave her an eerie feeling, and the rain pattered against the window, hypnotizing her with the shapes and colours it reflected as they passed all the familiar landmarks, blurring them together.

  As they drove past the morgue, she spotted the white van in the lot and a dark gray car beside it.

  That’s where I saw the car!

  Melanie has the dark gray car parked at the morgue. Why?

  “Hey, whose car is that?” she asked, pointing out the window. “The gray one in your lot?”

  “Oh,” Melanie said, adjusting her glasses. “Mine.”

  “I thought you had a different car?”

  “I do. That one broke down on me a while ago. I’ve kept it in the lot until I’ve had the time and money to get it fixed to sell.”

  “So it doesn’t work?”

  She shook her head and turned back to Raven. “I’m sorry I still haven’t moved it.”

  “It’s okay,” Raven huffed.

  The ambulance pulled into the Whitestone Lodge lot, and Officer Vila called back to them, “just getting the room. Sit tight.”

  They waited with the paramedic, leaving the ambulance running.

  “This’ll be over soon,” Melanie whispered and took Raven’s hand again. “You’re going to be okay.”

  Maybe she just really cares about her. Maybe I’ve read too much into this, and it’s this Roger guy who’s been watching Raven all along.

  Vila returned, and the paramedic helped them into their room, getting Raven comfortable in one of the two beds before leaving.

  Melanie sat on the edge of her bed, while Vila stood by the window, rain slipping down the panes. Madigan sat on the other bed and pulled her phone out from her bag.

  One missed call twenty minutes ago. No name with the number. She tapped the number and pressed the phone to her ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello?” Madigan said.

  Melanie and Raven stared at her.

  “I live across the street from Raven. I’m sorry for calling so late.”

  The teen.

  “That’s okay.” Madigan stood and walked to the washroom, closing the door behind her. “What is it?”

  “I keep thinking about that car.”

  “What about it?”


  “I really couldn’t see through the tinted windows.”

  “Okay…”

  “But there was something hanging on the rearview mirror. I don’t know what it was, but it was pink…”

  “Pink? Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I don’t know what it was though, and it’s driving me crazy.”

  “Listen, you’ve been a help. Thank you.”

  She ended the call and peered out from the door into the room. Melanie took a pillow from the other bed and tucked it behind Raven’s head, propping her up as she coughed.

  I don’t know Roger, and maybe he has something pink hanging from his rearview, but I can’t ask him right now.

  I can ask Raven about Melanie’s car, though.

  A mist-like fog settled in, hiding the landscape surrounding the road to Daniel Newcomb’s home. Grace checked the GPS and made a final turn onto a concession road. The subtle glow of Malone’s headlights followed behind her.

  As she turned up the driveway, her high beams flashed across a house and the property between it and Newcomb’s home. She stopped short of the garage, parked, and grabbed her cell phone, texting Madigan: Give me an update when possible.

  She slid her phone in her pocket and hopped out of the car. Malone joined her at the front door.

  “There’s no car,” he said, “and he’s on vacation.”

  She nodded. “Let’s do a sweep of the perimeter and then see if the neighbours next door have any information.”

  Malone nodded, and they split up at the front of the home. Grace crossed in front of the garage and peered through the windows into the dark dining room, rounding the back of the house. She squinted at a few trees almost hidden by the blanket of fog in the backyard.

  No sign of him.

  Malone met her around the back and joined her, crossing the wet grass in front of the neighbours’ house. She knocked on the door and waited, knocking a few times again. A light turned on in the upstairs window, and a man peered down at them.

  She held up her badge, and he disappeared from the window. The light inside the door flicked on, and the door opened as an older man in his robe stood on the other side with a tissue balled up in his fist.

  “Hello, I’m Detective Grace Sheppard. I’m sorry to wake you, but I’m hoping you have some information of the whereabouts of your neighbour, Mr. Newcomb.”