Shadow Watcher, A Romantic Suspense Novel

by Carolyn Mahony

  When his response finally came, it was decisive. ‘I’m not saying that I wouldn’t feel bad about it, but yes, I’d back you up. He may be my friend but there’s no way I’d put a child at risk by keeping quiet.’

  Relief flooded through her, and with it, a new surge of hope. With Keith on side, maybe she could do this. ‘Thanks, I really appreciate that. I know it’s pathetic, but I just don’t know what to do. I need to think it through. When’s he getting back to you?’

  ‘Tomorrow night he said.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow.’

  Grace set herself to work that afternoon stripping beds and vigorously tackling the household chores as she tried to make some sense of her options. For goodness sake, it couldn’t be simpler really. To pay Rory off in the hope that he really did need to disappear and that would be the end of him – meaning Ellie need never know he was still alive; or going to the police and putting her and Ellie through God knew what until such time, if ever, that Rory was apprehended.

  And what then? Was whatever he’d done serious enough to put him away for a few years? And if so, what about when he was released? It would be back to square one, with all the risks and uncertainties that involved. It was the one factor that stood out in all of this. She no longer cared for herself, but how could she do that to Ellie when she saw how much she’d blossomed these last few months? Everything in her cried out against it.

  And then there was the added factor that she’d be dragging Keith into everything. Had it occurred to him yet that by dropping Rory in it, he too might end up on Rory’s hit list? Was it fair for her to involve him?

  The thoughts spun round with no resolution. After her supper, she resolved not to think about it any more; she’d sleep on it and see how things looked in the morning. She checked what was on television but nothing there tempted her, so instead, she settled down with her book, trying to ignore the headache that was slowly but surely building up to a migraine. Eventually she gave up. She longed to pick up the phone and call Nick but he’d left quite a terse message on her answerphone saying that unfortunately he and Will were unable to make lunch the following day.

  Well, two could play at that game.

  By ten o’clock that evening, having carried out a double security check to make sure she’d locked all the doors and windows, she was in bed with a full–blown migraine. She took a couple of pills and by eleven o’clock she was flat out.

  She wasn’t sure what it was that disturbed her but she woke with a start, peering bleary-eyed at the alarm clock to see that it was two o’clock in the morning. She lay still for a moment, wondering what it was that seemed so odd – then it hit her. From somewhere downstairs she could hear the soft strains of music echoing through the house.

  Had she left the television on? But she remembered her migraine had put paid to any entertainment of that sort.

  So where was the music coming from?

  It was reminiscent of other times, and she sat bolt upright in bed, her ears straining, the pounding in them almost deafening out the melodious sound.

  Throwing back the bedclothes she grabbed her dressing gown and crept quietly to her bedroom door. Easing it slowly open, she peered out. The sound of the music was louder now and her gaze darted around the landing, checking for signs of movement, before she stepped cautiously towards the banister. It was dark but as she peered down the stairs she saw a light flickering in the kitchen. A torch.

  She took an involuntary step back and froze as she knocked into the little landing table, sending the lamp flying. Immediately the light in the kitchen was snapped out and what little vision Grace had, disappeared. The house was black and she stood locked to her spot, not daring to move.

  Keep calm. Get back to the bedroom and call the police.

  But her feet wouldn’t budge. Her eyes strained blindly in the dark, trying to see something – anything – that would show her where the intruder was.

  A sound just below her made her catch her breath.

  He was there – on the staircase, making his way up.

  Move.

  Another creek and she realised he was half-way up. It was all she needed to finally jerk her body into a belated response as she turned and leapt the small distance back to the safety of her room. Her hands fumbled with the key as she turned it in the lock. How strong was it? Would it hold if he – and now she knew without a doubt it was Rory – tried to force his way in?

  Switching on the light, she rushed to the phone and found herself punching in Nick’s number. He’d be quicker than the police. Be there, please be there.

  Relief flooded through her as she heard his voice, thick with sleep. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Nick! It’s Grace. There’s someone in my house ...’

  ‘What? Grace? Are you okay?’

  ‘Please come. He’s coming up the stairs.’ Her voice rose.

  ‘Hang on. I’m on my way.’

  The line clicked and Grace watched in horror as her door handle slowly moved downwards.

  ‘I’ve called my neighbour. There are people on the way,’ she shouted. ‘You’d better get out, before the police arrive.’

  The movement of the handle stopped. She stared at it mesmerised, then jumped like a terrified rabbit when a loud thump on the door left her in no doubt whatsoever that someone was out there.

  But that thump triggered a memory – and a burst of rebellion so strong it engulfed her. He’d done that when she was in the shower that time. She’d had enough. She needed to deal with this once and for all – and with Ellie out of the way, there was never going to be a better time.

  ‘I’m coming out, Rory,’ she shouted, running towards the door. ‘Do you hear me? You don’t frighten me. You’re a sad, pathetic bastard!’ She was at the door now, wrestling with the key and yanking it open.

  But there was no-one there.

  She ran to the banister; saw a shadowy figure disappearing into the kitchen. She raced down the stairs after him. But by the time she got to the open back door and stared out into the blackness, only the darkness of the night greeted her.

  Her bravado deserted her as quickly as it had risen. She slammed the door shut and locked it, her breath coming in quick, adrenalin-fuelled gasps as she leant back against it.

  Only when she heard Nick thumping on her front door, shouting through the letterbox to let him in, did she force her limbs to work, flying out into the hall to open the door.

  ‘What’s going on? Are you all right?’

  ‘It was him ... it was Rory. In the house.’

  Nick took her in his arms and held her, calming her as the warmth and strength of him seeped slowly through to comfort her. ‘Ssh ... it’s okay. Of course it wasn’t Rory. He’s dead. You know that.’

  ‘He isn’t. He’s alive. He was here. Why will no-one believe me?’

  ‘Steady.’ He eased the door shut with his foot and led her gently into the lounge. ‘Come on ... come through here so you can sit down.’

  ‘Did you see anyone when you were coming up the path?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘He must have seen you and hidden in the bushes.’

  ‘Grace – are you sure there was someone?’

  ‘Of course I’m sure – I saw his torch in the kitchen. Then he tried to get into my bedroom. He must have a key, Nick. A key to my back door. I know I locked it.’

  He looked at her doubtfully. ‘Grace–’

  ‘I did, Nick. You don’t believe me–’

  ‘Of course I do. I’ll check it out now.’

  She shook her head. ‘There’s no point. I locked it myself after he ran out.’

  He sat her down on the sofa and moved over to the sideboard to pour her a brandy. ‘Here, drink this.’

  She sipped at it shakily.

  ‘If you’re absolutely sure there was someone here, then we need to call the police.’

  ‘What do you mean, if I’m sure? I keep telling you. It was Rory. Why won’t you believe me?’

&nb
sp; ‘Did you actually see him? His face I mean?’

  ‘No, but–’

  ‘Grace – Rory’s dead – and there’s no doubt about that. Dad and Evelyn are back from their holiday and I asked Dad. He told me that you were right; they did use dental records to identify him. There’s no doubt it was Rory.’

  She was so distraught that at first his words didn’t register. But as he continued to nod his head, slowly his words began to filter through to her brain.

  ‘But … the music … listen to it. That was what woke me up. He’s done that before.’

  She felt as if she was going mad.

  He sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulder. ‘Suppose you tell me what’s going on, huh?’

  ‘What did you just say? About Rory?’ she whispered.

  He looked her straight in the eye. ‘I said it was definitely Rory … they identified him through his dental records. There’s no doubt about it.’

  ‘But …’ She was shaking her head in bewilderment. ‘He must be alive – he’s been in touch with me. And Keith.’

  Nick frowned. ‘Whoever’s been in touch with you, it wasn’t Rory. Dad was adamant that it had all been categorically proven – they don’t make mistakes like that these days, Grace. Now come on, I think it’s about time you told me what’s going on, don’t you?’

  She nodded dumbly and later, when she’d finished telling him everything, his face was grim.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I couldn’t. He threatened to take Ellie again if I told anyone, and I couldn’t let that happen.’

  Nick was looking at her closely. ‘And you say Keith was sure it was Rory?’

  Grace nodded. ‘They were good friends. If anyone should know him, it’s Keith. But if it wasn’t Rory …’ She shook her head bemused. ‘He would have to be Rory’s double to fool Keith–’

  She broke off, her eyes widening in horror. Nick watched her dawning comprehension, his own mouth drawn in a tight line. ‘No! Not Keith?’

  But even as she said it, everything slotted shatteringly into place – things such as who’d have pictures of her and Rory. Or who’d have a spare copy of her back-door key – or who could have broken into her flat that time when she was in the shower, and the police were insistent it couldn’t have been Rory. Had Keith known what Rory was doing even back then? The thought made her feel sick to the core.

  Nick nodded, watching her face. ‘Sounds like it to me. Who else could it be?’

  ‘But … why?’

  ‘I don’t know – but whatever his reasons you should tell the police.’

  She shook her head, thinking. ‘I can’t. Not yet.’

  ‘Grace – we’re talking about extortion and blackmail. They’re crimes.’

  ‘I know they are, but let’s at least make absolutely sure it’s him. Once the police are involved, Ellie will find out and I can’t bear the thought of putting her through it all again – and his sister’s my best friend. I need to get my facts right before I do anything. Please. I’ll be grateful for your help in any way but not the police … not yet.’

  She was feeling calmer now she knew it was Keith. Whatever his reasons, Keith wasn’t out of the same mould as Rory – she just couldn’t believe he’d ever really hurt her or Ellie.

  Nick sighed and shook his head. ‘I don’t happen to agree with you. The man’s a crook and should be dealt with, but if that’s what you want …’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘Okay – but we need to think carefully about what we’re doing, and if things start to get out of hand–’

  ‘We’ll call the police, I promise.’

  He looked at his watch ‘Where’s Ellie? Are you on your own tonight?’

  ‘Yes, thank God. She’s staying over at her friend’s.’

  He stared at her for a long moment and the atmosphere suddenly became strained again. ‘Will you be alright on your own?’

  Grace nodded. ‘I’ll be fine. He’s not likely to come back now, is he?’

  ‘I doubt it, but I’ll shift the table in front of the back door if you like and we could leave the key in it, half turned. That’ll keep you secure.’ He hesitated. ‘Or you could come back to mine if you’d rather?’

  She gave the ghost of a smile. ‘I thought women were persona non grata as far as staying over at yours was concerned?’

  Her irony wasn’t lost on him as he too smiled. ‘I think an attempted burglary provides a legitimate exception to the rule.’

  She could feel the pull of him tempting her to let him be her strength, and she was so tempted. But she knew that that way lay a different danger.

  ‘Thanks for the offer, but I’m sure I’ll be fine now. I’m not going to let him frighten me out of my own home.’

  Her determination was evident and there was frustration in his voice as he spoke. ‘I’ve never known anyone as damned independent as you. Call me if you’re at all worried – I can be back in less than three minutes.’ He rose to go. ‘We should probably meet up tomorrow and sort out how we’re going to handle this. So if that offer of lunch is still on?’

  She nodded. ‘Thanks. Sorry to be a nuisance.’

  ‘You’re not a nuisance – this is something that needs to be dealt with. I just wish you’d come to me earlier.’

  ‘What could I have said? I was so convinced it was Rory but I knew no-one would believe me without proof of some kind.’

  ‘I’d have believed you – not that it was Rory necessarily, but that something was going on. I wish you could have trusted me.’

  Grace shook her head. ‘It wasn’t a question of trust. I just knew how ridiculous it all sounded. I thought people might think I was cracking up.’

  ‘Well, you’ve told me now and we’re going to deal with it, okay?’

  She nodded.

  ‘So come on, help me move the table before I go.’

  Together they shifted the kitchen table so that it blocked the back door, then Nick took his leave.

  ‘Don’t forget – call me if you’re at all worried – promise?’

  She nodded feelingly. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll be on that phone at the slightest squeak of a floorboard.’

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  It was Monday afternoon and Marianne’s day off. The house was warm and welcoming when Grace dropped by on her way back from work, the fire in the lounge radiating its heat through the whole house.

  ‘Come in, come in,’ Marianne welcomed her. ‘You look exhausted. Not working too hard I hope?’

  Grace shook her head and smiled feebly. She didn’t want to be here. She felt like some sort of Judas trying to figure out the best way of getting information on Keith without raising her friend’s suspicions. He was her brother, for God’s sake. How was their friendship ever going to survive this when it had only just got back on track?

  ‘I managed to get away from the hospital at a reasonable time today,’ she said, struggling to keep her tone light, ‘so I thought I’d drop by. I’m not holding you up, am I?’

  ‘Not at all. I’ve just had a long conversation with Keith on the phone though – so you don’t mind if I prepare supper while we talk? I’m a bit behind.’

  ‘How is he?’

  Marianne sighed, some of her sparkle diminishing. ‘Not good. All this business with Amanda’s really getting to him, not to mention that wretched debt hanging around his neck.’

  ‘Debt?’

  ‘Oh – you didn’t know? I mean, well it’s not general knowledge obviously, but I know he’s been confiding in you. I assumed he’d have told you about his gambling debts.’ She wrinkled her brow. ‘Maybe don’t mention it though, if he hasn’t.’

  So that was it

  Later, as she spoke in hushed tones over the phone to Nick, they worked out their plan.

  ‘Keith … it’s Grace. I’ve got the money.’

  ‘You have?’ His voice sounded excited, unnaturally so.

  ‘Yes. Look, Ellie’s going over to Will’s for suppe
r tonight. Can you come around seven thirty? I want to get this over and done with as soon as possible’

  As soon as he’d put the phone down, Keith picked it up again. ‘Amanda? Keith. I need to see you tonight … No, it can’t wait. It’s urgent. Can you come round to my flat at about nine o’clock? I’m going out but I’ll be back by then and I’ll have something to show you. After that, if you still want the divorce then I’ll agree to go ahead and won’t contest it.’

  He was laying everything on the line he knew, but what did he have to lose? It was all or nothing now. And he had a feeling his luck was about to change.

  Grace paced the lounge.

  She didn’t know yet exactly how she was going to tackle this – but how ridiculous was it that she should be the one with butterflies in her stomach?

  The ring on the doorbell made her jump, and taking a deep breath, she went to answer it.

  ‘Keith … come in …’

  She ushered him through. He was on edge, his eyes darting around as he followed her into the lounge.

  ‘It’s alright,’ she said, and was surprised at how normal her voice sounded. ‘Ellie’s at a friend’s, she’s not likely to interrupt us.’

  She felt quite calm now that it was all about to come to a head, the shock she’d initially felt replaced by an enormous sense of relief. Rory really was dead – that was all that mattered. She wasn’t frightened of Keith.

  Marianne was right; he looked awful. Why hadn’t she noticed that before? She’d been enough of a master of disguise herself over the years to recognise it in someone else when she saw it.

  ‘How are you doing?’ he asked. ‘I should think you had a crap weekend.’

  She shut herself off from the warmth in his voice and picked up a brown envelope from the table, her eyes locked on his face.

  ‘This may sound silly but you are sure it was Rory you saw? I mean … there couldn’t be any mistake? I’ve had to borrow to get this. I don’t want to hand it over unless we’re really sure.’