Shadow Watcher, A Romantic Suspense Novel

by Carolyn Mahony

  ‘My God … you weren’t exaggerating,’ Grace said the next day as she took in the state of the three offices, all of which looked like they’d been blitzed.

  The two men looked embarrassed.

  ‘We’ll perfectly understand if you feel it’s too much for you,’ Paul said. ‘It’s just that we’re so busy at the moment, we haven’t had time to sort all the mundane stuff out.’

  Grace looked around, her sharp eyes missing nothing – the half-dozen or so dirty coffee cups and sandwich packs littered around, the papers and files piled high on what she presumed was to be her desk, and … oh my God … was that a blow-up doll leering lewdly at her from the far corner of the room?

  ‘Oops … sorry,’ Paul said following the direction of her gaze and rushing over to stuff it into a cupboard. ‘It was my fiftieth last week. A rather pathetic gesture from my so-called friends.’

  Grace laughed. Life was clearly not going to be dull in her new job.

  ‘You’re a star,’ Paul said as she prepared to take her leave at the end of the day, ‘and Nick and I are wholly indebted to you.’

  ‘Luckily for all of us, it looked worse than it was.’

  Grace looked around and was quietly pleased with her efforts. Her desk was in the main reception area between the other two offices and she now had somewhere to sit, had unearthed a telephone from its burial place under a mountain of files and had managed to open three days’ worth of mail.

  ‘You’ve transformed the place,’ Nick endorsed, his gaze warm as he looked at her, and Grace couldn’t ignore the responding flutter in her chest, even though it irritated the hell out of her.

  ‘Glad I could help,’ she responded diffidently. ‘I’ve left a couple of trays here on my desk. One’s for any work or messages you want me to deal with on Thursday when I come in, and the other’s for filing and anything else. If the agency comes up with anyone, just let me know. Otherwise I’ll see you then.’

  Grace was stacking the dishwasher the following morning when Ellie’s head appeared round the kitchen door.

  ‘I’m off now, Mum …’

  ‘Okay, have a good day.’

  ‘Thanks for finding my calculator. I needed it today.’

  ‘Where was it? I didn’t find it.’

  ‘In my bedroom on my desk.’

  Grace raised her eyebrows, her expression wry. ‘Well it must have been there the whole time, because I never put it there.’

  Ellie scowled at her. ‘No, it wasn’t, because I know I looked. It must have been you. You probably forgot – you know what you’re like.’

  About to inform her daughter that she was perfectly capable of remembering if she’d found a calculator or not, Grace bit her tongue. It was the sort of stupid thing that could escalate into a full-blown row if she wasn’t careful.

  She frowned. She’d also checked Ellie’s room – and her desk was the first place she’d looked. Ellie was right, there’d been no calculator there. She was as sure as she could be about that. Was it likely that they’d both missed it?

  The ground she was standing on seemed to shift as her mind shattered into pieces.

  ‘Oh – I forgot to tell you,’ Ellie said. ‘Don’t worry about supper tonight, Grandma’s picking me up from school and I’m going to help her choose an outfit for a ruby wedding anniversary she’s going to. She said she’d feed me and drop me back later.’

  ‘What?’ Anxiety made her voice sharp. ‘You could have told me sooner. I was going to make a shepherd’s pie for supper, with the left-over lamb.’

  ‘So? You can do it tomorrow instead, can’t you?’

  She felt the ground steadying again. Concentrate on this, think about the other later.

  ‘That’s not the point, Ellie. It would be more polite of your grandmother if she checked it was convenient with me before she went ahead and made arrangements with you.’

  ‘Well, you don’t exactly make that easy for her do you? She can only do it through me – and it’s not her fault if I forget to tell you.’

  ‘Then maybe you should make a bit more effort in future to remember.’

  Ellie tossed her head. ‘Or perhaps you should be nicer and meet up with her so that it doesn’t all have to be done through me? I don’t know what you argued about but it’s making my life a misery!’

  And turning on her heels, she stormed out of the front door, slamming it hard behind her.

  Grace didn’t move for a long time, her thoughts switching instantly back to the real cause of her upset – the missing calculator. Was it really likely they could have both overlooked it? And if they hadn’t – how had it got there?

  Will?

  She clutched at the possibility. He had free rein of the house when he was over. It was quite possible he’d found it somewhere and left it on Ellie’s desk knowing she’d see it there. That was it – a perfectly reasonable explanation.

  She sighed with relief. It just showed that if she stayed calm and thought things through logically, she’d find an explanation for most things. It wasn’t helpful to anyone, her jumping to the worst scenario all the time. She’d ask Will the next time she saw him, and in the meantime … this impasse with Evelyn was becoming a real issue. She needed to deal with it.

  She deliberated long and hard while she finished clearing up the breakfast things, then prevaricated some more, but deep down she knew what she had to do. The only question that remained was the best way of going about it. She didn’t think she could bear having the door slammed in her face, and experienced a swift stab of guilt when she remembered how she’d done exactly that to Evelyn.

  No – a hanging up of the phone was much easier to deal with.

  ‘Hello …?’ the voice was light and friendly.

  ‘Oh, Mrs Brandon? It’s Grace Harper here.’

  There was a silence, then, ‘Grace. What can I do for you?’

  ‘I was wondering if I might come round to see you?’

  The other woman’s hesitation was barely perceptible. ‘Of course. When were you thinking?’

  In for a penny. ‘I’m working tomorrow and Friday I’ve got a training day. Would later on this morning suit you? Say around eleven?’

  He watched as she climbed into her car and drove off. Then he checked the road carefully to make sure no-one was around before slipping swiftly up the path to the back of the house. From his pocket he pulled out a key.

  Once inside he took his time, wandering through the house room by room before going into her bedroom. Even though he knew the place quite well by now, he wanted to get the feel of it. Know who did what, where.

  A rush of adrenalin shot through him at the ease with which his plan seemed to be working. The cat had been a genius stroke of luck running in front of his car like that, and would have been just enough to make her sit up and wonder. And as for the photo, that definitely would have unsettled her – he doubted very much she’d have kept any pictures of the two of them. The calculator and diary had been more subtle touches – she might not even realise yet that he had access to her house.

  But she would after today.

  He pulled out her diary and carefully propped it up on her dressing table. He’d had it long enough now that she’d definitely have missed it. Enough for her to know it hadn’t been on her dressing table all this time.

  Downstairs in the kitchen he noticed the pile of ironing neatly stacked on a chair. Picking it up, he went back upstairs and laid it carefully on her bed. Something else for her to think about.

  The buzz of it all was making him heady. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. He looked around the room before moving back out into the hall.

  Time was running out – he needed to step things up a bit.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Standing on the doorstep of the old converted farmhouse, Grace still hadn’t a clue what she was going to say. She tried to conjure up all the old feelings of anger and bitterness against Rory and his family but somehow the memories were dimming with every day tha
t passed. What was of more concern to her now was that she didn’t lose her relationship with Ellie and if that meant making an effort with her grandmother …

  The door opened and a man in his mid sixties greeted her with an outstretched hand.

  ‘Gordon Brandon,’ he said with a smile. ‘Evelyn’s husband.’

  And Nick’s father without a doubt, Grace thought – for although a generation older, he had the same easy air of confidence and physical features as his son, from the abundance of his now albeit greying hair, to the same deep-set grey of his eyes.

  ‘Come on in …’ Gordon ushered. ‘Evelyn’s in the conservatory.’ He turned the full effect of his smile on her. ‘I’m glad you’ve come. I hope you can work things out.’

  In the conservatory, at the back of the house overlooking the garden, Evelyn was just setting a newly made tray of tea down on the table. Grace watched her for a moment. Dressed in linen trousers and a soft, cream-coloured silk shirt, she was still an attractive woman, her fair hair swept up into the elegant chignon she’d sported on her previous visit to Grace’s house. She didn’t look anything like Rory and Grace found herself taking comfort from that.

  ‘Are you happy with tea? I’m sure Gordon would make you a coffee if you’d prefer?’

  ‘Tea’s fine, thank you.’

  Grace sat down on one of the wicker chairs and gazed out of the window. What was she doing here, sitting with Rory’s mother? It felt bizarre.

  ‘So …’ Evelyn prompted. ‘You wanted to talk to me?’

  Grace sighed. ‘I don’t really know where to start.’

  ’The beginning’s usually a good place.’ Evelyn smiled hesitantly. ‘But if you don’t mind, before you say anything, there’s something I’d like to say to you.’

  She fixed her eyes on some distant spot in the garden, her face creased in thought. Then she turned back to look at Grace.

  ‘Nick’s told me a little of what went on between you and my husband, and Rory–’

  Oh God, not the rape. No mother needed to know that about her son – or her granddaughter.

  ‘And I want you to know that I knew nothing about it. Any of it. My husband wasn’t an easy man and it says a lot for your own strength of character that you dared to defy him – but I’m so glad you did. Ellie’s a lovely child – and you’ve done a great job of bringing her up.’ She sighed. ‘We do our best with our children but there’s no guarantee as to how they’ll turn out.’

  ‘Most of it’s down to Ellie,’ Grace said quickly. ‘But as you say, she’s great.’ She hesitated but she needed to hear the words spoken. ‘You didn’t know I was pregnant then?’

  ‘I had no idea – my husband obviously decided I didn’t need to know.’ She sighed. ‘One shouldn’t speak ill of the dead but that was so typical of him. It’s no wonder Rory–’

  She broke off and took a sip of her tea. ‘I’m sorry. I loved my son but that didn’t make me blind to his faults. I’m afraid he had a lot of his father in him and of course their relationship was so appalling it had a terrible effect on Rory. He was always trying to please his father but nothing he ever did was right. And then when my husband died so unexpectedly and Rory inherited all that money it was the worst thing that could have happened. Drink, drugs, gambling – he did it all. The last year of his life he was unrecognisable. I don’t know if you saw him during that time?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well, by then he’d lost everything, apart from that small investment we found which I’m sure he’d just forgotten about. He rejected all our efforts to help him and I hadn’t seen him in six months when the police came and told us he’d killed himself on that wretched motorbike – the one thing he’d managed to hold onto.’

  She fell silent, her eyes shifting back to the view out of the window.

  ‘Such a waste,’ she said finally, turning back to Grace, ‘but I know it wasn’t easy for you either. Do you want to talk about it?’

  Grace shook her head. What was the point?

  ‘It’s all behind me now,’ she said. ‘You saw what Rory was like and for a while he made our lives very difficult.’

  ‘Ellie mentioned that he ran off with her … I didn’t like to press the child for too many details, but that must have been awful for you both.’

  ‘It was the worst time of my life, but as I say – it’s behind us now. I’m sorry I was so rude when you visited me.’

  ‘I can understand how you felt. Might you have married Rory – if things had been different?’

  There was a wistfulness to the older woman’s tone that stopped the instant denial that sprung to Grace’s lips.

  ‘I don’t think that was ever on the cards,’ was all she said. ‘Rory made it quite plain that he wasn’t interested in marriage and didn’t want me to have the baby. He always seemed to see her as some kind of threat. I never understood why.’

  ‘Oh, I think I do.’ The trace of a smile curved Evelyn’s lips. ‘He’d have been worried about having to share his inheritance. He’d never had a proper job and he was going to need our money to finance his lifestyle.’

  They were both quiet for a while, the reality of her words resonating with Grace. Of course. Why hadn’t she guessed?

  ‘Anyway, enough of the past. I think … hope … we’re both ready to move on now? Tell me about yourself. And Ellie.’

  It was amazing, once she started, how the words just seemed to keep on flowing. It was over an hour later when she finally rose to take her leave.

  ‘Thank you for coming,’ Evelyn said. ‘And I’m glad we’ve been able to sort things out. I’d like to be a part of Ellie’s life … and yours … if you’ll let me?’

  Grace realised with a sense of wonder that she could. All the time she’d been talking, she’d been watching Evelyn’s face – her expressions, her reactions – looking for any indications that might alert her to the possibility that she wasn’t what she seemed. She’d seen none. She’d got quite good at listening to her instincts over the years. When she trusted them they rarely let her down – her problem was usually having the confidence to follow them. But they were telling her now that Nick was right; Evelyn was a good woman. She’d be a solid influence in Ellie’s life. And this was something positive she could do for her daughter.

  ‘I’d like that,’ she said simply.

  Half-an-hour later she was staring in bemusement at the pile of ironing on her bed. She could have sworn she’d left it down in the kitchen – she remembered deciding to leave it there until she got back.

  So what was it doing in here? Could she have moved it without remembering?

  She walked slowly into the room. Her skin prickled. Everything seemed the same as it had done when she’d left this morning, yet …

  The sight of her diary propped up against the dressing-table mirror seemed to leap out at her.

  Where had that come from? It definitely hadn’t been there before she went out; she knew that.

  Which meant the clothes probably hadn’t either.

  Which meant …

  She spun around. The silence was eerie.

  Was someone in the house?

  Her first instinct was to get out – but what if he was downstairs, waiting for her?

  She didn’t give herself time to think about it. Turning on her heels, she raced out onto the landing, tearing down the stairs as quickly as she could and flinging open the front door. Only when she got to the gate at the end of the path did she come to a halt.

  She felt stupid as she looked back at the house, heart pumping with relief that she’d made her escape. But she also knew she wasn’t being paranoid or imagining things.

  Someone had been in her house. There was no getting away from the fact this time.

  She stood there, hovering indecisively. What should she do? Phone someone? She’d feel an idiot if they went in and there was no-one there. But there was no way she was going to investigate on her own.

  With shaky fingers, she did the only thing she could t
hink of. She dialled 999.

  ‘No sign of any break-in,’ the police constable told her an hour later, after he’d finally arrived and conducted a thorough search. ‘Although your cloakroom window’s open. It’s possible someone could have got in that way. What makes you so sure someone’s been in the house?’

  She explained about the clothes and diary again, her expression becoming defensive at the scepticism in his eyes. ‘I’m telling you those items weren’t there when I left home this morning.’

  ‘And I’m not saying you’re lying. Just that it seems a rather random thing for a burglar to do? You might have been busy and not realised–’

  ‘Do you think I’m stupid? That I wouldn’t have noticed my diary on the dressing table when I’ve been looking for it for the last week or more?’

  ‘Maybe your daughter found it?’

  In her anxiety she hadn’t thought of that. Was it possible? Had Ellie forgotten to tell her? And thinking about that made her realise that Ellie would be home any minute. The policeman clearly wasn’t taking her seriously. She needed to get rid of him before she got back.

  She rose from the kitchen table where they were both seated, a signal for him to do the same. ‘I’ll ask her of course, but it’s unlikely. Don’t let me keep you any longer. I’m sorry if you think I’ve wasted your time but thanks for checking the house out.’

  She could see she’d put his back up – well – he’d put hers up too.

  ‘All part of the service. I’m sure you’ll find there’s a logical explanation for the appearance of the diary but if you don’t, and anything else happens, get back in touch.’

  She watched him go and thought about how useless the police had been in the past when she’d put her faith in them. She had no illusions. If someone had been in her house, it was down to her to get to the bottom of it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  ‘Grace? It’s me,’ Marianne called out. ‘Anyone home?’

  ‘Come on up,’ Grace shouted from her bedroom.

  She surveyed the array of clothes on her bed and looked up as her friend walked in. ‘Just trying to sort out what to wear tonight. What do you think? This cream dress – or the blue?’