Shadow Watcher, A Romantic Suspense Novel

by Carolyn Mahony

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Phone to one ear while she waited, Grace handed a message to the doctor who was hovering at her desk. ‘Can you ring this patient urgently?’ she mouthed.

  He nodded and took the note.

  It was great being back doing the job she loved, even if it was only three days a week. She hoped it wouldn’t be too long before a permanent, full-time post came up.

  ‘Hi, sorry about that,’ Marianne’s voice came from the other end of the line. ‘I just needed to write out a prescription for someone. Now where were we? Ah yes, tonight. Look, it’s short notice I know, but Matt’s out and his parents have offered to babysit – a rare occurrence for a Friday night. I wondered if you fancied going into Cambridge for a bite to eat?’

  ‘I’d love to. Ellie’s staying over at her grandmother’s for the first time tonight, which means I can stay here and work on a bit. I could meet up with you later.’

  It would also stop her dwelling too much on other matters, which she knew she’d do if she were at home alone.

  She realised she was starving as she parked in the Bridge Street multi-storey and walked the short distance to the buzzy bistro that was Carlotto’s, but she swiftly lost her appetite at the sight of Nick and Suzanne sitting at a table in the corner, studying the menu.

  She gave them a stiff nod of greeting, avoiding Nick’s eyes as she walked past them to a table as far away from them as she could get. Well, that told her very plainly where she stood.

  Marianne joined her a few minutes later, having stopped in her usual sociable way for a chat when she saw them.

  ‘Fancy seeing them here,’ she said sitting down, and slinging her bag over the back of her chair. ‘Which reminds me.’ She lowered her voice, ‘How did your birthday dinner go with Nick on Sunday?’

  ‘It was good,’ Grace said, burying her nose in the menu.

  ‘Good as in tasty meal? Or good as in tasty man?’

  ‘Marianne!’

  ‘Oh come on ... you can tell me. Something did happen!’ she exclaimed, when Grace made no answer.

  ‘Ssh. Keep your voice down.’

  ‘I’m just stunned,’ Marianne whispered back. ‘I didn’t think you had it in you. What happened? Did you kiss?’

  Grace nodded reluctantly, wishing that was all they’d done. ‘But I wish we hadn’t. Look at him now with her. I feel an idiot.’

  ‘Well they don’t exactly look like love’s young dream, and he must fancy you if he–’

  ‘Can we change the subject? I really don’t want to talk about it. And promise me you won’t tell anyone?’

  ‘As if I would.’

  When it became obvious Grace wasn’t going to say anymore, Marianne picked up her menu and they were both silent for a few minutes while they studied their options and gave their orders. Then Grace drew a breath and tried to look unconcerned, as she asked, ‘Talking about changing the subject – as a matter of interest, I don’t suppose you know who identified Rory’s body when he died?’

  Marianne looked at her in surprise. ‘No. Why?’

  Grace shrugged. ‘No particular reason. I was just thinking the other day that it wouldn’t have been very nice for his mother, if she’d had to do it.’

  ‘No, it wouldn’t. Motorbike accidents often aren’t pretty and from what I heard, Rory was travelling at quite a pace. He had a bit of a reputation for that.’

  Nick and Suzanne were still there when they left and this time Grace prepared herself for a dignified exit, even managing a friendly smile as she passed close to their table.

  After being persuaded to go back for a coffee at Marianne’s, she drove thoughtfully home. She didn’t look forward to it, but she needed to talk to Nick – find out from him what his expectations of their relationship were. And more importantly, exactly how things stood with Suzanne.

  They hadn’t actually discussed exclusivity and it was possible he was just seeing Suzanne as a friend – but it had seemed that every time she’d sneaked a look at them tonight, Suzanne’s hand was either covering his or resting on his arm. Grace was happy to accept that theirs was a casual relationship, but she wasn’t prepared to be one of a string of girlfriends carelessly slotted in when it was convenient.

  She swung off the dual carriageway onto a smaller road and within a few minutes was negotiating the isolated country lanes that characterised the Fens. It was what she loved about Cambridgeshire – that complete contrast between the busy city life of the town, with it’s thriving industry of tourists, students and commerce – and the vast expanse of agricultural land where nature stretched out for miles; beautiful and alluring in the summer; cold and bleak in the winter.

  The glare of bright lights in her mirror brought her sharply back to the present as she became aware of the car sitting on her tail. It felt unnecessarily close when there was such a vast expanse of empty road, and she frowned, slowing down so it could pass. But it made no move to do so, staying where it was, a few feet from her bumper. She was on a deserted road at nearly midnight with nothing but fields and trenches on either side. The peacefulness and isolation she’d been quietly appreciating only a few moments ago, suddenly took on a more sinister feel – all the more menacing because of the remote, rural setting she now found herself in.

  She applied tentative pressure to her brakes, hoping that whoever it was would take the hint and back off, and when that had no affect she slowed right down to thirty. The car slowed with her, trailing her steadily, lights on full beam.

  Her gut tightened as she flicked a glance in her mirror. What was going on? Did it want her to stop? There was no way she was doing that.

  She concentrated her gaze back to the road, as she tried to think calmly. There was a petrol station further along. If she could hang on ’til then …

  She jumped at the sudden loud blare of the car’s horn, her eyes flying back to the mirror. It was so close she expected the bump at any minute.

  She needed to get some space between them.

  She pressed down hard on the accelerator and felt the car surge forward with a stab of elation. But it was short lived as the other car quickly caught up, lights flashing aggressively.

  Keep your eyes on the road. Don’t panic.

  She slammed down a gear and accelerated even more. She gained some distance, but again it didn’t last. Her eyes flicked back and forth to the speedometer – sixty, seventy … eighty – the other car was with her all the way. Her grip on the wheel was so tight her knuckles hurt, and her brain felt as if it was about to explode with the strain of looking out for any cars that might be coming the other way.

  And all the time, her thoughts were spinning.

  She could stop and confront him – but how stupid would that be?

  What if she braked hard so he went into the back of her? That way the car might bounce off sideways and crash. She didn’t care if the driver got hurt. She just needed to lose him.

  But what if it made her crash too? At eighty miles an hour?

  Please, dear God …

  She didn’t know what she was praying for, but it seemed to steady her nerves. She just needed to hang on until she got to the petrol station.

  And then, just as she was beginning to think she couldn’t keep it up much longer, up ahead she saw it – the illuminated sign.

  Oh, thank God.

  She left it to the last minute before suddenly slamming on her brakes and veering sharply left into the garage, her car spinning round and just missing one of the petrol pumps as it came to a screeching halt in the forecourt and stalled. She didn’t care that she looked stupid – all she wanted was to get away from the maniac behind her.

  But then she looked around her and her heart plummeted. It was closed.

  And all she could see around her was the black of the night.

  She heard the other car screech to a halt in the road ahead of her. Then it was slamming into reverse, backing up fast.

  She turned the key in the ignition with shaky fingers.
Nothing happened. The engine just spluttered and failed. She tried again and it did the same.

  ‘No! Not now,’ she muttered frantically. Why hadn’t she booked that service? A third attempt suffered the same fate, and it had happened enough times for her to know that it would take a few minutes before it was ready to fire up again. Only she didn’t have a few minutes.

  The sight of the dark-coloured car pulling unhurriedly into the courtyard behind her, as if it knew it had all the time in the world now, settled the matter for her. She wasn’t going to hang around here waiting to confront whoever it was at this time of night that was for sure.

  She threw open the car door and was out of there, pausing only to flick the lock before bolting off in the direction of the woods that bordered the petrol station.

  Was she stupid to have left the car? But what choice did she have? She stumbled down into a ditch, then up the other side, scrambling for the safety of the trees that quickly swallowed her up. A small sob escaped her. Her phone. She should call someone – Nick, Stuart, Marianne. But she’d left it in the car. And who could she phone anyway? Who could she trust?

  Blind panic propelled her on, twigs and branches scratching at her hands and face as she fought her way through the undergrowth, until eventually a fallen log sent her crashing to the ground. She lay stunned where she fell, listening for the sound of footsteps behind her. Nothing – all she could hear was the sound of her own gasping breaths. She clamped her mouth shut and lay there, not moving, expecting a pair of arms to reach down and haul her up at any moment.

  When several minutes of silence had passed, she cautiously raised her head and peered back in the direction she’d come. There was a light coming from the petrol station forecourt and it didn’t take long to realise that they were the headlights of a car moving slowly forward. Whoever it was, was leaving. She heard the distant acceleration of the engine as the car pulled slowly out of the garage and disappeared into the anonymity of the night.

  She didn’t know how long she crouched there, petrified. Had they really gone? What if it was more than one person and the second person was still there – waiting for her to come back? Or worse, lurking somewhere in the woods? She peered through some branches and tried to get a better view. She didn’t know what to do. But it was getting cold and she couldn't stay here all night.

  She left it another quarter of an hour before coming to a decision. Rising slowly, she cautiously started to make her way back in the direction of the garage. At the perimeter of the woods she waited another five minutes, her eyes scanning the forecourt and her car for any sign of movement. Nothing. Then moving forward in a low crouching position, she ran swiftly to the ditch and again ducked down, taking stock. Her car was sitting just where she’d left it. It was maybe a thirty-yard sprint that was all, yet it felt like the longest, most exposing run of her life as she took off up the ditch like a greyhound from its sprinting trap, and hurled herself at the passenger door. It unlocked straight away and within seconds she’d clambered in and had locked herself inside. She scrambled over the seat to the driver’s side. Without even looking to see if anyone was around she rammed the key in the ignition and turned it. Thank God, the engine fired into life and the car shot forward. Only at the exit did she pause enough to risk a quick look around. There was no-one. Some of her tension eased as her eyes skimmed the road up to her left the way the car had gone, and she saw that it was empty. She turned in the opposite direction, back the way she’d come. Whoever it had been (and she’d keep an open mind on that one if it killed her) – she wasn’t going to risk running into them further along the lane. She’d get back on the main road and take the longer route home.

  She was on full alert the whole way back, her eyes constantly scanning her mirror to see if she was being followed, but she saw nothing suspicious. Even the last two miles along the unavoidable country route to her house were uneventful, but as she swung her car hurriedly into the drive, her one objective to reach the safety of the house, she became aware of headlights turning slowly into the bottom of her road. Her heart began to race again as she ran from her car to the front door, her fingers fumbling clumsily with the key in the lock for several moments before she finally managed to insert it. And then the door was swinging open and she was safely inside, slamming it shut on the outside world behind her.

  She leant back against it for a few moments, expelling her breath and doing her best to compose herself, then nearly jumped out of her skin when the bell-box next to her emitted a shrill peel. She shot away from the door as if she’d been shot.

  ‘Who is it?’ she called from the safety of the stairs.

  ‘It’s Nick.’

  She stared at the door in suspicion. What was he doing here? Now? At this time of night?

  ‘Grace? Can I come in? We need to talk.’

  ‘It’s late, Nick. We can talk tomorrow.’

  She was amazed how calm she sounded.

  ‘I’ve already been waiting the best part of an hour for you to come home.’

  So it hadn’t been him turning into the road – although she only had his word for it that he’d been sitting there, waiting for her. And he had a dark-coloured car.

  For God’s sake! Was she suspecting Nick now? How ludicrous was that?

  Even so, the possibilities winged through her mind at the speed of lightning.

  Likely scenario: She could trust Nick and the chances were he had been sitting outside for over an hour if he’d dropped Suzanne off, then driven straight here.

  Unlikely scenario: He had some secret agenda that meant he had a vested interest in frightening her out of her wits and maybe even harming her. He’d therefore somehow realised she’d be going back to Marianne’s for coffee, had dropped Suzanne off and then waited outside Marianne’s house so he could follow her home and terrorise her.

  She thought about the person he was – with her, with Will, with Ellie – and hardly aware she’d even made the decision, she found herself opening the door.

  They stared at each other for a long moment. His eyes sharpened.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  She nodded. ‘I just had a nasty experience. Some maniac in his car trying to intimidate me by flashing his lights and sitting on my tail.’

  ‘That’s not pleasant. Did you get his number?’

  ‘It was too dark.’

  She hesitated, wanting more than anything to share her fears about Rory; yet knowing even as she thought it, how stupid the whole thing sounded. Who was going to believe her if she voiced the possibility that he might not be dead after all? She needed to find out who’d identified him first, get the facts.

  ‘Probably kids,’ Nick said, turning in the hall as she closed the door behind him. ‘That’s the sort of thing they’d think was funny.’

  There was a long pause in which neither of them spoke before Nick said casually. ‘I was surprised to see you and Marianne at the restaurant tonight.’

  ‘Yes – I hope you enjoyed your meal?’

  She couldn’t quite keep the sting out of her voice.

  ‘I didn’t, as it happens. It was a crap night.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘I cooled things with Suzanne,’ he said eventually. ‘I didn’t mention what happened between you and me obviously, but it wasn’t pleasant.’

  ‘How did she take it?’

  ‘Well, let’s just say I think she had higher expectations of our friendship than I did. Quite a few things came out in our conversation that made me realise I didn’t know her at all.’

  He shook his head slowly. ‘Do you know, she told me she felt Will was the biggest obstacle to our relationship and that the obvious answer was for me to send him to boarding school so that we could give things a try?’

  Grace smiled. ‘I don’t need to ask what sort of response you gave to that suggestion.’

  ‘No. Then it got a bit trickier – she asked me if there was anyone else. I said there wasn’t, but it didn’t feel very good lying.’
/>   ‘I thought you said you weren’t in a relationship?’

  ‘We’re not, but – I’ll be honest with you – we did sleep together once three or four months ago. It didn’t develop, but I think she hoped it might. If she knew about you, she wouldn’t be happy.’

  He shrugged. ‘Anyway, as it happens her reaction tonight showed me a side to her character that I’d not seen before, so I’m not feeling quite as guilty as I might.’

  He looked at her searchingly. ‘Are you sure you’re okay? You’re looking very pale.’

  Grace dropped her bag on the floor by the stairs and turned towards the kitchen.

  ‘I don’t know about you, but I need a coffee. I’ll put the kettle on.’

  He followed her through to the kitchen, pulling a couple of mugs down while she filled the kettle.

  ‘You’re obviously still edgy.’

  ‘It’s unnerving when something like that happens. It was on Pymer’s Mead which is pretty deserted at this time of night as you can imagine. I pulled into the petrol station to try and lose them and then realised it was closed. And then the car wouldn’t start again. I panicked and ended up running into the woods and hiding. I feel so stupid now.’

  He looked shocked. ‘That’s not good. You must have been terrified. Did they chase you?’

  ‘No. That’s why I feel stupid. I probably overreacted.’

  ‘That’s not the point though, is it? It’s a shame you didn’t get their number. It would teach the louts a lesson if you reported them to the police.’

  She felt his hands on her waist behind her, turning her round to face him. He pulled her into his arms and held her there. It felt safe tucked against his chest. She didn’t want him to let her go.

  ‘Don’t let it get to you; they’re not worth it. They’ll probably have forgotten all about it by now and moved onto the next bit of mischief they can cause.’

  If only she could believe that. She sighed, clinging onto the reassurance of him for just a little bit longer, before pulling reluctantly back.