by Evelyn Glass
“No problem.” Scott shrugged. “So, how do you know this guy?”
“I babysit for his daughter,” I replied, not wanting to come out and say that I’d been sent there on a welfare check. “Whatever it was that happened, it went down the first day I went around there.”
“Did you see anything?”
“Nope,” I admitted. “But the dad saw some footprints in the kitchen, and he took some pictures of them.”
“Not sure that’s going to help too much with the forensics, but good to know.” He shot me a playful smile, and I returned it with a faux-glare in the mirror.
We arrived at the house a few minutes later, and Scott hauled his kit out of the backseat and dragged it up to the house. Jazz was already waiting in the door by the time we got there.
“You must be Scott?” He stuck out his hand. Scott took it and nodded.
“That’s me,” he agreed, and glanced around the place. “So, can you show me where you found these footprints so I can get to work?”
“Yeah, of course.” Jazz led him over to the kitchen, helping him with his kit as they went. I watched as they made their way across the room, and prayed that something good would come of this. That was all I really wanted—to convince myself that this would all be worthwhile in the end, that I wasn’t chasing shadows by getting Scott out here.
“Where’s Ella?” I called after Jazz.
“Oh, she’s in her room,” he replied, gesturing upstairs. I took the stairs two at a time as I headed towards her—the reminder of the attack had me aching to see her and give her a hug, just to convince myself that she was truly okay.
When I reached her room, I found her sitting on the floor and staring out of the window. Okay, that was odd—she was usually a lot more active than that. I sat down next to her, and tried to follow her gaze.
“What are you looking at?” I wondered aloud to her, hoping that my voice didn’t give away the slightly squeaky panic that I was filling me up inch by inch. She didn’t take her eyes off whatever she was looking at—I squinted, but I couldn’t make anything out. Her room was directly opposite the neighbor’s place, her window looking out at the side of their house. Jazz told me a nice-enough older couple lived there, and I hadn’t bothered to investigate further.
A few seconds later, Jazz appeared in the door—I twisted around from where I sat, and beckoned him over.
“What are you guys staring at?” he asked, tilting his head so he could get a look too. And then, his face froze.
“What? What is it?” I demanded, a chill running down my spine as he strode closer to the window. He pressed his face up against the glass, cupping his hands around his eyes to fight off the glare.
“Honey, what did you see in there?” Jazz leaned down to Ella urgently, fighting to keep the panic out of his voice.
She shrugged. “I saw someone in that window.” She pointed to a small, round porthole that sat at the very top of the building.
Jazz paled.
“You need to stay here with Ella,” he ordered me as he grabbed for his jacket. “I have to get out there.”
“Wait!” I demanded, slipping out of Ella’s room and closing the door behind me. “Not until you tell me what the hell is going on right now.”
“There’s someone in the attic over there,” he explained hurriedly, jerking his head in the direction of the neighbor’s house.
“And?” I prompted.
“They sealed the attic up after the old owner, Ian, left. The old couple who live there now, they didn’t want their grandkids getting up there and ending up hurt.”
“How the hell can there be someone up there?” I demanded, and he shook his head.
“That’s what I’m going to find out,” he promised, and made for the stairs. I watched as he slipped out of the front door. I had never seen him like this—not even on the day of the accident. It was clear that whatever was happening, he considered it seriously bad news. I had to go with him. It flashed through my brain before I could stop myself—I glanced in on Ella, and saw her sitting on the floor, coloring again, as if nothing had happened at all. My heart beating in my ears, I went after him, darting out of the door.
“What the hell are you doing?”
I jumped as I turned around, and found myself face-to-face with Jazz once again—he was standing around the corner of the house, staring up at that window from the ground. But now his eyes were on me, and there was something in them, something I recognized, something I’d been craving since that moment last night. He caught me by the arm, pulled me around next to him, and pressed me against the wall. My heart was pumping so hard and so fast I wondered how it didn’t burst out of my chest there and then—I couldn’t take my eyes off him, meeting his gaze as he gripped my arm tightly. His breath was coming quickly, and he ran his fingers through his hair as though trying to talk himself out of what he was about to do.
“Fuck it,” he murmured. And then, he leaned forward and kissed me.
His hand moved from my arm to my waist as soon as our mouths met, and that’s when things started moving very, very fast. He pushed his tongue into my mouth at once, and I let out a soft moan against his lips—he tasted good, sweet and salty, and I craved more of him at once. I pressed my hips up against his, and could already feel his erection growing through his pants. I slid my hand down to touch him, and he bit my lip without restraint as I circled my fist around his erection. Before I knew it, he was pushing my skirt up, parting my legs, reaching for his fly…
But before we could get any further, Ella’s voice snapped us both out of the moment. She was calling from her bedroom, and it was drifting down to reach us. And she was calling for Jazz.
Chapter Nine
I pressed my hands flat against the table, and tried to keep my cool. But it was hard when you knew that your daughter was the one in danger.
It had been a few days since I’d seen that figure in Paul and Mary’s attic, and since then, I had found myself in a constant state of hyper-awareness. Even hearing Ella’s voice calling my name when I’d been on the brink of finally fucking Mona had been enough to pull me out of how much I wanted her, how long I’d desired this. It turned out to be nothing but a bug on her bedroom window, but it reminded me just how serious things were—and just how on top of shit I was going to have to be over the next few weeks.
Mona had insisted on inviting everyone around so we could put our heads together and figure out what was going on, and, while the support was comforting, it was frustrating that we’d been at this for so long without seeing results.
Amanda, Scott, and Mona sat around the kitchen table, all with notes out in front of them.
“So there wasn’t anything to go on with your sweep of the kitchen?” Amanda leaned over to examine Scott’s notes, and he nodded.
“Nothing,” he agreed. “It’s far too contaminated now. If something like this happens again…” He trailed off, glancing between Mona and I—I guess he must have seen the rage on my face at the very concept, but he didn’t let that stop him. “You need to call me right away. Okay?”
“Okay,” I said through gritted teeth.
“So, Jazz,” Amanda turned to me, ever the professional, “tell me about Ian.”
“The old neighbor?” I was taken aback. I hadn’t thought about him in a long time—not since we managed to get him out of that damn house. “Uh, he was a bit of an asshole.”
“In what way?”
“He was mean to the kids on the block, used to sit out in his garden and call some of them names when they were coming back from school.” I lifted my fingers to begin rhyming off all the shit he’d done over the years to make enemies. “And he would usually have some kind of obsession going on with certain families…”
“Obsessions?” Mona leaned across the table towards me. “Like what?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I guess he had a bad upbringing or whatever, because he always latched on to these picture-perfect families and ended up
overstaying his welcome and getting kicked out.”
“And then?” Amanda cocked her head to the side.
“After it happened a few times, he just stopped leaving the house. Then he put it up for sale, and Mary and Paul moved in, and that was the last any of us in the neighborhood saw of him.”
“So you think he felt alienated by everyone else?” Amanda was pulling her psychologist shit out, and it unsettled me; I didn’t like the thought that we had put him in that position, that we had left him feeling so alone.
“I mean, yeah, probably,” I conceded. “But he was a real creep. He would get attached to little girls—not sexually or anything, just…attached. Overfriendly. That’s how he usually ended up getting cut off from the families he got attached too.”
“Little girls?” Mona raised her eyebrows. “How old?”
“Maybe between, I don’t know, three and six or seven?” I screwed my face up. “I didn’t know the families well enough to guess.”
“So, the age that Ella’s at now?” Mona pointed out gently, and I felt a cold shiver run up and down my back. I glanced up the stairs, in the direction of her bedroom, and tried to push the thought from my head. No. It couldn’t be. He’d been gone for more than two years, and there wasn’t a chance in hell that he was still around. And even if he was—I would kill him with my bare hands before I let him anywhere near my daughter.
“Can we take a smoke break?” Scott yawned. “I need a second to think.”
“Sure, I need to use the bathroom anyway,” Amanda agreed, and before I knew it, the two of them had both vanished, leaving Mona and I alone together.
I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t thought about that kiss. I mean, the feeling of her lips on mine, of her body against my own, it had haunted my dreams since it happened. I still couldn’t believe I’d let myself do it—as soon as I’d seen her, her hair messy and her skirt ridden up by a few inches, I knew any ounce of self-control I’d been practicing till that moment would no longer suffice. I would have gone all the way with her there, up against the house, if it hadn’t been for Ella.
We glanced at each other, and then glanced away again. Jesus, did I have to act like a complete teenager on top of everything else? I mean, I was attracted to this woman—stupidly so. Why couldn’t I just fucking well do something about it instead of spending half my time around her dancing back and forth between wanting her and trying to stem those feelings?
“Thanks for getting them involved.” I gestured to where Amanda and Scott had been sitting, and she shrugged.
“I want to get this sorted just as much as you do, you know,” she replied, meeting my gaze defiantly. There we were, alone, no one to bother us—with just enough time for me to reach out and touch her, or kiss her, or—
Before I could let that train of thought go any further, Scott re-emerged from outside and took his seat back at the table.
“What were you two talking about?” he asked, looking between us. Maybe he could sense the atmosphere in the room. He would have to be half-blind not to.
“Oh, nothing.” I shrugged. “So, shall we get back to it?”
For the time being, at least, we would have to put the kiss behind us. Because nothing and I mean nothing, was going to get in the way of the investigation into who had hurt my daughter—and whether or not they were planning to do it again.
Chapter Nine
I let my head drop back against the edge of the bath. Mmm. After everything that had happened since Ella had spotted that man through her window, getting some time to myself seemed like a luxury.
The hot bath water felt as though it was poaching me slowly—not that I minded. I felt my eyes begin to drift shut, and wondered if I might be able to fall asleep right then and there. But before I could, my phone began to buzz on top of the toilet, and my eyes flew open.
I had been jumpier than usual—the long hours combined with the strangeness of what was going on with Jazz and Ella had me on edge, and it took me a second to get my breathing in check as I reached for my cell. I checked the name on the screen. Lucy was calling. I flicked open the phone, and held it to my ear.
“Hello?” I murmured, trying to keep my voice low so as not to blow this air of relaxation I’d worked so hard to earn.
“Hey, Moan.” Lucy sounded…well, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but she didn’t sound like her. I sat up straight in the bath, the water shifting loudly around me.
“What’s up?” I demanded, and she took a deep breath. She sounded shaken, even though she’d only spoken a couple of words to me. I’d kept her updated with everything that was going on, and she’d been so good at keeping me calm and under control in the face of all that ridiculousness. But now, she needed my help. I could feel it.
“Last night,” she began, letting the words hang between us for a moment before she carried on. “I was just drifting off to sleep when I heard a noise.”
“Yeah?” I prompted her.
“And…and I got out of bed to see what it was,” she continued. “And there was someone at my window.”
A cold flush ran up and down my scalp. Jesus Christ.
“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady and not give away how freaked out I was at this revelation.
“I mean…I saw someone, he was climbing back down the pipe that’s outside my bedroom window when I got there,” she explained. “And I thought I was going crazy, but when I went outside the next morning, I found footprints leading up to where I’d seen him.”
“Fuck me, Luce,” I muttered. Had I had something to do with this? Had they figured out her connection to me, and were now trying to freak her out to get me off the scent? I felt like a character in some overwrought crime drama, and it was a lot less fun than it had seemed when I had watched them with my mom over dinner.
“You want me to come stay with you?” I asked. “I can get out of babysitting—”
“No, no, you need that job,” she dismissed me in a second, as ever, putting herself last. “I’ll be fine, I just wondered if you knew anything about it.”
“I don’t know anything,” I replied with a sigh. “And you know that I’m not just going to let this slide, right? I can’t. Come on, Luce, if I called you up with the same thing…”
“I know, I know,” she dismissed me. “But I’m not asking for help.”
“Then why did you call?” I pointed out, and she went quiet for a second.
“Okay, maybe I need a little bit of help,” she admitted. “It just really freaked me out and I don’t know what to do…”
“Let me call Jazz,” I told her firmly. “I know it seems scary now, but I promise we’ll get something sorted. Anything, until you feel safe, right?”
“Right,” she replied, and I could hear the relief in her voice. “Thanks, Moan.”
“Anytime,” I replied, and pulled myself out of my bath. For some reason, the thought of talking to Jazz naked felt a little bit inappropriate—even though he would never have a clue, it felt as though I’d be pushing my luck a little. Hearing his voice when I was like this…it felt like the start of some cheesy porno. I wrapped a towel around myself and pressed myself up against one of the heaters, trying to warm myself up, and dialed Jazz’s number.
“Hey,” he answered a few seconds later. I could hear the sound of cartoons in the background, and the clatter of pots and pans not far from the phone. He must have been cooking her dinner, taking advantage of one of the few evenings they actually got to spend together. I hated to break it up, but I wasn’t going to put my best friend in danger for the sake of being polite.
“Hey Jazz, sorry to disturb you guys, but something’s happened,” I began, and felt a sudden lump in my throat—before, it felt at least like we’d been in control of what was going on. But now…I wasn’t so sure. I mean, this was the first time that someone outside of our little group had been involved. Lucy hadn’t done anything to deserve this, hadn’t gone chasing after this guy—but here she wa
s, caught up in the middle of this anyway. I swallowed heavily and continued.
“My friend Lucy, she said that there was a guy looking in her window last night,” I explained. “She thought she was just being paranoid, but then she went outside and there were footprints.”
“Is she okay?” he asked, moving away from the sound of the cartoons.
“She is for now, but I want to help her and I guess since you’re in the business of looking after people, you’d have a better idea than I do.”
“Did she say footprints?” Jazz asked after a pause. “Did she get a picture of them?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll ask her to get a shot,” I promised him. “Do you think you can do something to help her?”
