The One Who Watches

by Emerald O'Brien

  “Because more people are looking. Another detective. They’ll want answers, and I won’t be as lucky again to have a detective as stupid as you are looking into me this time. Now one last time—”

  “I knew!” he shouted. “You’re right. I knew. Just me.”

  “Danny. You weren’t there that night. Someone was in that hallway, and they heard us.”

  Don, the custodian. He didn’t tell anyone what he thought he heard—no one will believe you.

  What he did say was scribbled in Danny’s notes without a last name. He doesn’t know it was Don and that Don doesn’t know whose voices he heard, so Don hasn’t been a target.

  Grace held up her hand, waiting for the moment to go.

  “No one was there,” Newcomb said. “You were hearing things.”

  “Someone was there. They heard me—”

  “Heard you say what?”

  “I told you, she was a liar. She was going to tell everyone I…” More scuffling came from below, and Grace aimed her gun at the opening. “I never had sex with her, and she was going to tell everyone I raped her.”

  Grace cringed, her stomach churning as she held her hand up, waiting for the right opportunity.

  “No one else told me anything besides Tyler,” Newcomb said. “He believed you when you said you had nothing to do with Donelle. He never questioned you again.”

  “But he told you she avoided me. I didn’t hurt her,” Roger said, his voice further away. “She was going to tell everyone I raped her, and I had to stop her.”

  Grace turned to Malone and nodded to him. He nodded back.

  “She was a liar,” Roger shouted, “and now look what I have to do to clean up this mess!”

  Grace dropped her hand, and Malone descended the stairs as she followed. Roger stood in front of an older man duct-taped to a wooden chair, staring down at him with something in his hand.

  “Drop your weapon,” Grace shouted.

  Roger bent down, and the taser in his hand fell to the floor.

  “Hands on your head,” Malone said, inching toward him.

  Roger craned his head up but stayed low and kicked the taser toward Malone. He jumped behind Danny and ducked, taking cover with Danny’s body as a shield as Malone aimed his gun in their direction.

  A shot rang out, echoing in Grace’s head.

  Raven fell back after the crash, and they caught her before she hit the wall as a man with dark hair crawled through the window. Madigan had never seen him before, but he bore a slight resemblance to Paul Rothman, the man she had followed in Newport.

  The real Paul Rothman.

  Who is this?

  I need a weapon. Vila’s gun.

  Madigan let go of Raven and crawled across the floor toward Vila, lying still by the bottom of the bed. The tall man stood and raised his bat in the air, catching Madigan’s eye before bringing it down against Vila’s leg.

  Vila turned over on his back, groaning. Small shards of glass stuck out of his chest, and his gun lay on the other side of the man standing above him.

  “Don’t move,” he said, sneering at Madigan, “or you’re next.”

  He scanned the room as she peered up at him. “Raven?” he said. “You don’t have to be afraid. I came for you.”

  He pointed the bat at Madigan as he walked around her and stopped on the other side of her body, by her legs.

  If he just keeps walking, I can get the gun in time.

  “Who are you?” Raven’s voice cried out from behind the bed. “Who are you really, because you’re not Paul Rothman!”

  “So, you don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s too bad… but it doesn’t have to be. Raven, when I saw you at the alumni event at the university, it was a sign. I’ve never had that happen before, but you—of course with you. You’re special. I never forgot you.”

  Madigan turned over her shoulder; the man stood fixated on Raven.

  If I move, he’ll see.

  “Raven, we don’t have much time, but I want to take you away with me.”

  “Who are you?” she cried again, her voice trembling.

  “I’m sorry I lied, and it’ll never happen again, but I needed you to give me a chance. I did go to University with you. I worked in the library. I saw you there all the time, and sometimes you saw me too. You’d smile at me and make my day. You still wear your hair in that long braid. It looks best that way, swept out of your face to show off your perfect features. Your face. Oh, your face, it’s so swollen. You should have stayed at the hospital. You need to get help.” He took another step toward her.

  “How did you know where I was?” Raven asked. “How did you find me here?”

  “I was tracking you,” he whispered. “I let you go in University. I won’t ever do that again. Your phone. I set a tracker up on it while you were in the washroom on our date. Let’s not consider that our first real date. I can do better.”

  He’s looking at her. I have to go now.

  She remained flat with the ground and pushed herself forward with her feet and pulled with her hands. She stopped and turned back, but the man was transfixed on Raven.

  She pulled herself ahead again as Melanie spoke, “She’s hurt.”

  “My Raven,” he said, and Madigan pulled herself forward again.

  Just a few more feet.

  “I would have never let this happened to you,” he said. “I’ll love you no matter what you look like.”

  “I remember you,” Raven hissed.

  “I knew you would.” He raised his pitch. “I knew you’d remember, because we shared a connection.”

  “Why did you pretend to be someone else?” Raven asked. “Why Paul Rothman?”

  “Well, you rejected me once before. I worked up the courage to ask you out for coffee, but I get it. I wasn’t your type. You weren’t attracted to me, but I’ve changed. I can be the man you want now.”

  “You don’t know what she wants,” Melanie shouted.

  “Oh, but I do. You were telling your friends at the event exactly the kind of man you wanted. Kind, attentive, but mysterious. Intelligent. Generous. I knew I had what it took this time, but I couldn’t take the chance you’d reject me again, so I made myself into someone more like the men I saw you with. The men you were happy to be around. I told you I was Paul Rothman because I knew him back then, and I saw him with your friends sometimes. The kind of man you let close. Wanted to be seen with.”

  Madigan pulled herself forward and reached out with her hand.

  Just a little more…

  “No,” Melanie shrieked.

  Madigan turned over her shoulder, and the stalker sneered down at her, his bat raised high over his head.

  Malone stumbled back as Roger leaned out from behind Danny and aimed his gun at Malone. Grace squeezed her trigger and ducked back behind Danny again.

  “I’ll kill him,” Roger shouted. “Get back or I’ll kill him.”

  “Kill the bastard,” Danny shouted and grunted.

  “We’re stepping back,” Grace said and nodded to Malone to do it as she took two steps toward the other side of the chair, closest to the wall.

  “Put your weapons down and kick them over,” Roger said.

  “Okay.”

  Malone frowned at her, but she crouched down, dropped her gun, and kicked it toward the staircase just in front of Malone. In one swift motion, she grabbed her mini back up gun from her calf strap.

  She took another step toward the other side of the chair and peeked around.

  I can’t get a good shot at him from this side.

  She nodded to Malone, but he kept his gun aimed at the side of Danny.

  “Do it, Malone,” she said.

  He doesn’t trust me. He sees what I want to do, that I have a plan, and he still doesn’t trust me.

  He frowned and turned to her as Roger’s hand with his gun appeared around Malone’s side.

  “Now,” she mouthed to him.

  “Okay, okay.” He dropped his g
un.

  “Kick it over, now!” Roger shouted.

  Malone raised his foot, and Grace lunged forward as he kicked the gun, aiming at Roger’s shoulder, and squeezed the trigger.

  Roger shot his gun at the ceiling and fell back, letting go of his gun and grabbing his shoulder as Malone moved in and grabbed their guns.

  Grace rounded the other side and kept her gun aimed at Roger as he moaned on his back, blood spilling from beneath his hand.

  Sirens wailed in the distance, and Malone stood over Roger, aiming his gun at his head. Grace holstered hers and turned to Danny. He stared at Roger with anger before turning to her.

  “Get me outta here,” he said.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt her,” Roger wailed. “She was trying to hurt me. I had to protect myself—my reputation. It was an accident. I didn’t mean to push her.”

  Grace took out her handcuffs and locked Roger’s hands together before taking off her coat and pressing it to his wound. His screams echoed through the basement.

  “Forget him,” Danny said. “Untie me!”

  Grace nodded to Malone, and he stepped back, yanking the piece of tape away from the chair.

  “You have the right to remain silent,” Malone said, ripping off more tape.

  “And please,” Danny sneered, “exercise that right.”

  Roger stared up at her, whimpering.

  “Why did you do it?” Grace asked. “Why did you push her off the roof?”

  “It was an accident,” Roger cried. “I swear. She was going to lie and say I raped her.”

  And you’re going to keep lying and say you didn’t, unless…

  “I know you did.” She pressed more of her weight against the wound, and he screamed. “We ran new tests. That’s how we found you here. Your DNA was found on her underwear.”

  “Okay, okay. We had sex. Con—consensual.” He winced, panting as she continued to apply pressure. “She wanted it.”

  “You piece of shit,” Danny spat, pulling away from the chair and yanking the rest of the tape off himself. “Tyler told me Donelle didn’t want to be anywhere near you. She didn’t want it. You raped her!” He lunged for Roger, but Malone grabbed his shoulders and held him back. Roger moaned and stared up at Danny with fear in his eyes.

  The kind of fear Donelle faced because of you.

  “You told her no one would believe her,” Grace said. “On the roof.”

  “Who was it?” Roger whimpered. “Who was in that hallway? Who heard us?”

  So, he did say it. Don wasn’t hearing things.

  Roger bullied Donelle into silence, and people got close to the truth. Tyler knew she didn’t want to be around him but believed his friend. Everyone saw the signs of trauma.

  When she was finally ready to tell people what really happened, he pushed her off the roof. He’d rather be a murderer, kill innocent people, than be known as a rapist and have his life ruined that way.

  Heavy steps thundered against the floor above, and she pressed harder against the wound.

  Roger’s screams overpowered all other sounds.

  The man swung the bat down, stopping just above Madigan’s back as Melanie jumped on him, grabbing onto him, wrapping her arms around his neck. The force knocked him against the wall and they fell to the floor with a thud that shook the furniture.

  Madigan scrambled to a crawl and reached for the gun, grabbing it as the man grunted, wrestling Melanie off of him and swinging his bat behind him. She ducked, and he missed as Madigan aimed the gun at him and clicked the safety off.

  She’s too close. I could hit her. I could kill her.

  He swung the bat again, and it hit Melanie’s side. She screamed and fell limp. At the absence of her scream, sirens in the distance wailed.

  He shoved her away and grabbed on to the TV stand to regain balance as he pulled himself up. Madigan took a step forward, held the gun in both hands, and aimed it at his chest.

  He looked up at her and blinked.

  “I won’t miss,” she said.

  “Shoot him,” Raven said, a rasp to her voice. “Do it.”

  “Raven,” he said, shaking his head, remaining still. “This isn’t what I wanted for us. I thought maybe you changed. Maybe you grew up and realized you needed a good man in your life. Not a man like me. Me.”

  Melanie groaned, easing herself up off the floor and leaning against the wall as she held her side and the sirens’ scream grew louder.

  Help is coming.

  “How could I want you?” Raven’s voice was all but gone as she squeaked out the words. “You’re sick.”

  He shook his head and turned to her. “I’m in love.”

  “Don’t look at her,” Madigan said as red and blue lights flashed against the walls.

  He twisted his body around and rose to his feet, lunging at Raven.

  Madigan squeezed the trigger and stumbled back as an ache shot through her arms and her ears.

  The man fell on the floor in front of Raven, and her face twisted in terror.

  The door burst open, and officers passed her, grabbing the gun from her hands, but she focused on the man.

  A small spot of blood on his back bloomed, and he lay motionless on the ground, his arm frozen in position, reaching out for Raven.

  Forty-Six

  Grace stepped into the private interrogation room at the Amherst P.D. Charles Gaines’ head hung low, staring at the table between them. He tilted his head up, and his eyes fixed on her.

  “I knew you’d be back.”

  She sat across from him and took a deep breath. “Mr. Gaines, your daughter was pushed off the roof of Tall Pines College the night she died. She was murdered.”

  A groan escaped his lips as he closed his eyes and balled his hands into fists, shaking his head.

  “Roger Ellis confessed to the crime.” She swallowed hard and took a deep breath once more. “We also have reason to believe he raped Donelle, and when she got the courage to finally come forward with the truth, Ellis was motivated to stop her.”

  Gaines opened his eyes and tears streamed down his cheeks, shining in the reflection of the harsh fluorescent light above.

  He knew it wasn’t suicide, and no one believed him. The pain he’s lived with these past three years, and now he has his answers, but these answers—they’re brutal.

  “I’m so sorry to have to tell you this—”

  “My baby,” he whispered, his dark eyes gazing into her face. “I knew she didn’t—she wouldn’t—” He’s been vindicated, but the painful truth of it all can’t heal him. “I tried to tell you. I tried to tell everyone.”

  His chest heaved and Grace nodded.

  “Tyler?” he asked, wiping his cheeks. “He—he had to be part of it.”

  “To our knowledge, he didn’t know what happened to Donelle, but after he began to suspect something was wrong, he confronted Roger and chose to believe him. Just weeks ago, when the retired detective on the case started looking into things again, Tyler finally spoke up and told the detective all he knew. That led the detective to Roger Ellis.”

  “Tyler knew something was wrong with Donnie. He knew Roger had something to do with it. He should have said something. He should have listened to Donnie—I should have listened…”

  “Most victims of sexual assault have a difficult time sharing their experience with anyone. After being violated, it can take a long time before they feel safe enough to talk about it.”

  “I’m her daddy. She should have told me.” Tears spilled down his cheeks again and he shook his head. “I’d have done anything for her. But she couldn’t, and it’s my fault.”

  How do you console a father who has been through all this? There’s nothing I can say to make this right.

  She cleared her throat. “Roger knew Tyler told Detective Newcomb about his suspicions, so he tampered with Tyler’s brakes. He was sure someone from the case knew the truth—sure Detective Newcomb had something on him. He killed Edgar Cull, the campus security guard,
and attempted to murder the medical examiner.” Gaines shook his head but she continued. “He was working hard to cover his tracks at any cost, but we have him now, and he’s been charged. Mr. Gaines?”

  He wiped his tears with his sleeve and his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he continued to shake his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he croaked out. Any anger in his voice melted away with each word until only sadness remained. “Nothing matters anymore. Nothing will bring my daughter back.”

  She sat before him as he wept, nothing left to say.

  He’s right. Nothing will bring her back, and this justice—late justice—is only in the eyes of the law. He’ll never hold his daughter again. Never get the chance to make sure she knows she’s safe with him. He’ll live with this alone—but he doesn’t have to be alone right now.

  His upper body folded onto the table and he laid his head in his arms and cried. As he shook, she imagined the pain coursing through his body—through his being—and reached her hand out to his arm to comfort him, bracing for resistance.

  Charles Gaines sucked in a breath of air and grabbed her hand, sobbing harder.

  Forty-Seven

  The golden sun shone through the translucent, swaying leaves on the trees by the coast, and Madigan let them hypnotize her until Buster pushed his face under her arm. She smiled down at him as the whooshing sound of the waves crashing against the rocks far below muffled all other sounds. As Grace walked by her, she jumped.

  “Sorry.” Grace rounded her chair with Waffles in her arms. “Did I scare you?”

  “Oh, I was just a little startled. Didn’t see you there.”

  Grace shot her a look. “I was talking to Waffles.”

  Madigan grinned. “Taking a risk and having them both out here together, are we?”

  “I think he’ll be okay, as long as I hold him.” Grace sat in the chair beside her, and Buster’s tail wagged back and forth as he stared at Waffles. “Buster’s a good boy, and so are you.”

  “Easy, boy,” Madigan said, rubbing behind one of Buster’s ears. “Stay.”