My lame search of the basement had left me with no answers. All I could do was lay there and ponder whether Kenna was alive or dead. Thunder came louder and quicker. Blinding streaks of lightning flashed through the bedroom window causing eerie shapes to form on the walls and then disappear in a clap of thunder.
My thoughts shifted to my precious son, wanting him here with me. Even knowing my parents were taking good care of him, I needed to know he was safe. For a stupid moment, I considered getting up, getting dressed and driving across town in the blinding rain to get to him. It took a lot of willpower to keep my butt in the bed.
The wind picked up and caused a moaning noise that scared the dickens out of me. The whole apartment complex seemed to shift against the raging wind, giving the feeling I lived in a treehouse. Marble-sized hail beat against the windows to the point I was sure they would break. Odd noises came from the living room and kitchen. I tried convincing myself I hadn’t lived here long enough to recognize the varying sounds, but secretly I knew it was rats scurrying around in the kitchen. Yes, okay, I had rats. But I’d be damned if I admitted it to anyone.
A crack of thunder shook the walls, causing my heart to take off at a gallop. My innate fear of storms coupled with the idea of a thin wall and mere feet being the only separation between myself and a murderer had me gripping the sheets. Loneliness and desolation clutched at my heart, leaving me afraid and desperate. While I had missed Ryan’s presence beside me in bed, right now, I was downright desperate for his comfort. For another stupid moment, I considered getting up, getting dressed and driving across town in the blinding rain to get to him. It took a lot of willpower to keep my butt in the bed.
I wanted Ryan. If we were cuddled in bed together right now, he’d be holding me and telling me everything would be fine, assuring me the storm would pass by soon enough. I didn’t want to feel unsafe and alone. My scared and empty heart cried out for him, wanting the security he provided. I missed my marriage. I missed Ryan. But each time I wanted to cave, the image of him and Shannon Lowry hit me like a giant stop sign. She was like a brick wall I couldn’t climb over. How would I ever be able to let Ryan touch me? Even so, it didn’t mean my body didn’t ache for him.
The storm settled over the apartment complex like a giant magnet, refusing to move on. My frayed nerves won the battle between sleep and vigilant wakefulness. The digital clock clicked in at midnight. Then at one in the morning. It was a little after 2:00 a.m. before the disturbance finally left the city in quiet darkness. It was then when I noticed Bill wasn’t snoring.
Had the rumbling thunder kept him from sleeping? Drawing my legs to the edge of the bed and tossing back the covers, I went to the kitchen window and peered out. Blackness enveloped most of the parking lot. Running water was making its way to a nearby drainage ditch. Between the droplets of water running down my windowpane, I made out Bill’s truck parked in its usual spot. He was still at home. But just like me, he was wide awake. Or was he keeping a watchful eye on me?
My paranoia escalated throughout the remainder of the night. At one point I jolted awake after a two-minute sleep, convinced that Bill was hovering over me. When the morning finally came, I wanted to cry. My entire body ached from lack of sleep and the dark circles under my eyes had worsened. I looked like the walking dead.
What little energy I had was drained on lifting spoons of oatmeal to my mouth. I didn’t even try with my hair. Today a simple ponytail would be sufficient. My clothing choice was made when I came to the first hanger. And the only makeup I bothered with was a lip gloss, and that was only because my lips felt overly dry.
With my keys in hand and my purse on my shoulder, I headed out. The sticky door had swollen from last night’s moisture, and it took a good shove to get it closed. Plagued with exhaustion and zero coordination I struggled at inserting the key to lock the door. With my mind on the task at hand, I didn’t notice Bill’s stealthy approach.
“Morning neighbor.” Though his words were friendly, his tone was not. When I froze in fear, he gave an accomplished smile, then glared at me with cold arrogance and unabashed disdain.
“Morning,” I croaked out, swallowing a desperate sigh. My heart took off in flight while my feet held me cemented in place. Silently I cursed, realizing how foolish I had been. Of course, Bill had been watching for me. And I had stupidly waltzed out into the hallway without first looking.
“I’ve been waiting for you to leave for work. In fact, thoughts of you occupied my attention all night long. I could hardly wait to see you,” Bill said, faking an expression of thoughtful concern.
Though I tried taking a step back to create some distance between us, he took a step closer, making his stout presence known.
“How considerate of you,” I responded with a tight smile, trying to nonchalantly hide how easily he intimidated me. But the erratic beating of my heart told me I was scared out of my mind. I peered up and down the hallway, hoping for anyone to venture out from the confines of their apartment. But no, no one was around except me and the killer who wanted me dead.
“I know it was you that filed that missing person report. Hell, it didn’t take much deducing on my part. To one side of me there’s Old Lady Henderson who can’t hear a damned thing without her hearing aids. And then there’s you … the nosy bitch on the other side of me.”
I just blinked and pressed my lips together. Fearing eye contact, I concentrated on his slicked back hair that was still wet from a morning shower, even though he’d taken one the night before.
“Yeah, I thought so,” he said with a nod, my silence confirming his suspicions. “Like I said to that detective, my wife is at my mother’s. There’s nothing for you to be concerned about. You just need to go on about your own business.”
He paused, waiting for my response. But my voice had dried up, leaving me with only a whimper.
He peered up and down the hallway, then briskly pushed me backward to the point my shoulders were against the wall and only his muscled chest was in front of me.
“This ain’t the kind of place where you should be living. You’re a do-gooder. People around here don’t like do-gooders. They like people who keep to themselves. The tenants here, including myself and my wife, would rather you just go on about your way. So, you have a choice to make … live or die,” he growled low against my ear. “Either you disappear from everyone’s life, and no one will ever see you again. Or we’ll make sure you disappear from life itself, never to be seen again by anyone. Which will it be?” he asked, his voice thick with warning.
“I’m … I’m looking for another apartment this weekend,” I squeaked out, the anxiety in my voice letting him know he had rattled my nerves.
“Good choice. I’ll look forward to your move. Until then, I’ll be watching you … especially if you do any more late-night laundry down in the basement. Do you get what I’m saying?”
Chapter Thirty-One
Hailey
When Bill backed off, it was all I could do to keep my legs from buckling underneath me. Like a scared little rabbit, I hurried down the hallway, then wobbled my shaky self to the stairs. Bill stood behind me with his arms crossed and lasered his hate-filled eyes at my back. It would’ve been my preference to have taken the elevator to make sure I didn’t stumble on my trembling feet and fall to my death. But I wasn’t about to wait for the slow arrival.
Dodging puddles of water, I worked my way to my car and crawled inside, immediately locking the doors and cranking the engine. Glancing up at Bill’s kitchen window, I saw him waving to me. How was it he knew I’d gone into the basement? He must’ve heard my door shut. Heck, he probably even heard the loud grinding motor from the elevator when it arrived. He most likely hauled butt down the stairs and was waiting for me. If so, was he that shadow? I almost suspected he had been and if I would’ve had the nerve to venture farther into the mechanical room, he most likely would’ve killed me.
Barely taking the time to run the wipers across the rain splatt
ered windshield, I threw my car in reverse, backed up and peeled out of the parking lot. My fist gripped the steering wheel, causing my knuckles to be white by the time I pulled up in my parents’ driveway.
“Good morning,” my mom greeted, stepping out from the front door with Adam in tow.
“Good morning,” I cheerily returned as if my life hadn’t just been threatened. Flipping open the lock, I attempted to get out of my car to make sure Adam was properly buckled in his child seat.
“Stay put. I’ll get him in,” my mother kindly offered. Good, my shaky legs probably wouldn’t have held up anyway.
“Thanks, mom.” Adam was self-sufficient at buckling himself in, but I never relied on his abilities. You can’t be too careful is my motto. “Did you have fun last night?” I asked Adam, turning in my seat to greet him.
“Yeah. Me and Papa played trains. I had a blast.”
“That’s good,” I said. listening for the clicks to ensure my child’s safety.
“There you go,” his nana announced. She leaned forward from the backseat and whispered in my ear. “How did it go last night?”
“Productive. It seems there was nothing for me to be worried about after all.” My mom, of course, thought I was spying on Ryan. I, of course, meant if Kenna were alive at Bill’s mother’s house.
“That’s wonderful. I hope everything works out.”
“Me too,” I agreed. “Say goodbye to Nana,” I requested of Adam.
“Bye Nana. Tell Papa I want to play trains again really, really, really soon.” Adam was getting a daily dose of playing trains now that my mother was picking him up from preschool. However, in Adam’s opinion it was never enough.
“Okay sweetheart, I’ll let him know.” She waved a goodbye as I backed out of the drive.
After dropping Adam at preschool, I forced myself into work. Unbelievably, I was first to arrive. For a moment, I considered dropping my head to my desk and taking a quick nap. But before having the chance, Sarah walked in.
“What happened to you? You look terrible.” Her assessment came with a frown and bunched together eyebrows.
“Wow, thanks for the compliment.” I rummaged through my makeup bag, pulled out my eyedrops and flooded my eyes, hoping to help alleviate my situation.
“You need a gallon of that stuff,” she smarted off. She crossed the room and turned her computer on. “What happened with your neighbor? Was she there?”
“No, I ended up calling the police. When the detective showed up, Bill convinced him that he took Kenna to his mother’s house. He even had her covering for him, claiming Kenna was there, but asleep. But I still think he killed her.”
Sarah frowned. “You don’t believe the mother? Don’t you think that’s reaching? Maybe you should let this go and concentrate on your own problems. And your number one priority needs to be either getting back with Ryan or finding a better place to live. You need to start thinking of yourself … and not Kenna. Let it go, Hailey.”
A frustrated sigh escaped my lungs. I didn’t want to give up, but there was the possibility Bill might kill me. “You’re right. The detective is supposed to call me. Hopefully, he will have found Kenna safe and sound. And I’ve already planned on looking for another place this weekend.” That was, of course, unless I followed my dad’s advice about not obligating myself to a one-year lease somewhere else.
I opted to keep my mouth shut about this morning’s encounter with Bill. Sara would only urge me to move out now. And she’d probably tell Ryan. But in my gut, I knew Bill wouldn’t have confronted me if Kenna was safe at his mother’s house. Something was going on, and I intended to get to the bottom of it.
Midafternoon brought on the delivery of another dozen roses. And since my card table could only hold so much, I opted to leave these on my desk. And I decided to call and thank Ryan.
“Hey, it’s me,” I said once he answered.
“Hey, you,” he responded in a light-hearted tone.
“Thank you for all the flowers. They’re beautiful.” It was so wonderful to hear his voice. I loved Ryan. I had never stopped loving Ryan. If only it were possible to turn back time and change his sleeping with Shannon Lowry.
“Did you read the card?” he asked.
“No, give me a second.” Opening the tiny envelope, I pulled out a $250.00 gift certificate for Caressing Hands, a luxury spa off Camp Bowie. “Oh wow. Thank you so much,” I gushed.
“You’ll have to book the appointment. I didn’t know your schedule. But let me know and I’ll be glad to keep Adam. In fact, I was wondering if I could have him this weekend.”
“Yes, of course. Ryan, I’m not trying to keep Adam from you. You can see him anytime you want.” I gulped, because it sounded as if we were working out child visitation … which meant Ryan was accepting the idea of divorce. But then again, he had sent flowers and this gift card.
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” He paused and I heard him swallow. “Honey, I hope I can see you, too. I’ve made dinner reservations for The Terrace, a week from this Saturday. Will you go with me?”
My heart skipped a beat. Not only was it the most exquisite place in town, but he was also asking me on a date. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d asked me out. “Yes, I’d love to,” I readily agreed. Maybe it was time I forgot about Shannon Lowry and forgave Ryan. Maybe it was time I forgot about Kenna and Bill, too. Maybe it was just time.
Barely off the phone with Ryan, a tall, broad-shouldered, brown-haired, brown-eyed man opened the department’s door. My eyes briefly glimpsed the gun and badge affixed to his belt, but it was his handsome face I couldn’t tear my gaze away from. If I were being honest, he rated well above a ten. He was undoubtedly the most attractive man I had ever laid eyes on.
My first assumption was that he was here to speak to me about Kenna, but as soon as Ms. Davis caught sight of him through her glassed office, she jumped to her feet and fell all over herself to greet him.
“Detective Sutton, it’s so wonderful to see you again,” she gushed, quickly closing the gap between them and shaking his hand with tremendous gusto. “What brings you around?” she cooed with a huge smile on her face. I reminded myself that this woman was engaged. Of course, I was practically salivating over him, and I was married.
“I’d like to speak to one of your employees, if I might.”
Ms. Davis’ face took on a concerned look. “Oh no, not one of the employees again.”
I recalled the upset from a few months ago, wherein two, maybe three employees had ended up dead. The stories between Carter and James varied, and Ms. Davis had only given me a cursory overview during my interview. I imagined it being like a fish story, the fish getting bigger with each tale. But nonetheless, I supposed a detective’s presence was cause for alarm.
“No, it’s nothing like before,” he quickly assured her. “I just need a word with Mrs. Sinclair.”
Ms. Davis eyeballed me, letting me know if there was trouble, I’d be fired. “My neighbor is missing,” I offered, hoping to save my job.
“Oh, okay,” she said, her gaze softening. “You two should talk privately in the breakroom. Take all the time you need.” She smiled at the detective. “It was pleasure seeing you again.”
The detective nodded. “Likewise,” he said.
His alluring eyes fell on me when I rolled my chair out and scrambled to my feet. “You must be Mrs. Sinclair.”
“Yes, I am. Call me Hailey,” I said accepting his outstretched hand as he introduced himself as Detective Tanner Sutton.
He led the way down the hallway and into the breakroom as if he knew right where he was going. He clearly had been the detective on the incident that went down before. When we arrived at the small room containing a quaint kitchenette, vending machines and a few tables, he pulled out a chair for me to be seated. I swooned at his gentlemanly gesture. And yes, I was married. At least I hadn’t slept with someone else. Suddenly I was mad at Ryan all over again.
The detective seated hi
mself across the table from me and opened a folder. “My notes indicate that you reported Kenna Simpson, your neighbor, as having gone missing.”
“No, I reported her as having been murdered … by her abusive husband.”
“Murdered?” he looked again through his file and pulled out an intake report. “Missing, it says.” He held up the report for me to read.
“I’m certain she’s been murdered. Her husband routinely beats her up. She had found out she was pregnant and was afraid Bill might harm the baby. She had just been to my apartment, asking for my help. We were in the process of packing to go to a hotel, but Bill – that’s her husband – came home and that was that. A few hours later, she was gone. I know he killed her. He did it.”
“Well, she hasn’t been murdered. And she’s not missing.”
“What?” I couldn’t believe my ears. “No, she’s dead somewhere.”
“Last night, I spoke with Bill. During our conversation, he said she was having pregnancy sickness and he took her to stay a few days with his mother until she’s—”
“No, that’s not true,” I cut in, unable to tolerate Bill’s lies. “She’d only found out that afternoon that she was pregnant. Bill didn’t even know about the baby until that night when they started arguing. She yelled for him not to hit her because she was pregnant, and it was the first he’d heard of it. He’s lying about taking her to his mother’s. She wanted me to help her get away before Bill caused her to lose the baby. He must’ve killed her that night.”
“This afternoon, I traveled down to Hillsboro and visited with Kenna and Irena Simpson, Bill’s mother. Kenna is perfectly fine. I stopped by to let you know you don’t have to worry anymore.”
“No,” I gasped, unable to believe it. “Are you sure?”
“Kenna said she and Bill talked about the baby and how much they wanted to start a family. She said Bill lied to me about the pregnancy sickness because he was ashamed to admit he’d hit her in a recent argument. She had a black eye and a busted lip when I spoke with her. She said Bill was injecting steroids into his muscles, which was most likely causing his recent anger issues. According to her, they talked about it and Bill agreed to seek professional help. But until then, to protect her and the baby, he took her to his mother’s house.”
Paper-Thin Walls Page 15
