She was still wrestling with indecision when her phone suddenly rang, causing her to jump so violently that she almost upset a mug of coffee that she’d just made for herself.
‘Hello?’ she said tentatively, half expecting the caller to hang up.
‘Rachel, it’s Nick.’
‘Oh, Nick.’ The relief at hearing his voice was overwhelming, overriding those disturbing thoughts she’d had about the possibility of him being her stalker, making her feel guilty at having even thought such a thing.
‘I’m sorry it’s so late,’ he said, ‘but can I come and see you?’
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘of course. Where are you?’
‘I’m just leaving the station—I could be with you in about ten minutes or so.’
‘All right,’ she said, ‘I’ll see you then.’
By the time her doorbell rang she had reached a decision—she would tell Nick everything. What she wasn’t prepared for, however, when she opened the door was the expression on his face—one she was at a loss to interpret.
‘Nick...?’ she said.
‘Can we go inside?’ he said.
‘Of course. Come in.’ He stepped into the hall and she closed the door behind him then led the way into the sitting room. ‘What’s happened?’ she asked.
‘We’ve got him,’ he said. There was a mixture of emotions in the simple statement—relief, fatigue, satisfaction, triumph even.
‘You’ve...?’ Rachel stared at him. ‘How? When?’
With a deep sigh Nick almost collapsed onto the sofa while Rachel perched beside him.
‘We were almost there,’ he said at last. ‘We just needed that last vital piece of evidence which today Rowena supplied when she gave us the description of her stalker. Then we assembled the Photo-fit and finally we made our arrest and set up an identity parade.’
‘She picked him out?’ asked Rachel, almost in amazement.
‘Oh, yes, and we’ve charged him.’
‘But that’s wonderful! So was it the same man as Kaylee’s attacker?’
‘Yes.’ Nick leaned his head on the back of the sofa and briefly closed his eyes. ‘One and the same. Your suggestion of a link with the canal was crucial, Rachel,’ he went on after a moment.
‘Really?’ Her eyes widened.
‘Yes, he lives on a run-down old canal boat which has been moored off Millar’s Wharf. There’s also a possibility he’s linked to two other unsolved murders in other towns off the canal. The pattern is always the same—he stalks his victims over a period of time then pounces, rapes and strangles them, only in Rowena’s case she got away. The rest will all come out in court but I would say we have enough evidence through DNA and the like to put him away for a very long time. Heaven only knows how many more would have become victims.’
There was a long silence between them where the only sounds in the room were that of the ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece and the distant hum of traffic on the dual carriageway.
‘Actually, Nick,’ said Rachel and her voice seemed to be coming from a long way off, ‘I think I might have been the next one.’
‘Sorry?’ He’d closed his eyes again but he opened them now and turned his head to look at Rachel. ‘The next what?’
Rachel swallowed. ‘The next victim,’ she said.
‘What do you mean?’ Frown lines appeared between his eyes.
‘I...I’ve been having rather strange things happen lately,’ she said. ‘I didn’t think too much about them at first but more recently they’d become a little more worrying...’
‘What sort of things?’ He was alert now, attentive, in policeman mode.
‘It started with strange phone calls. You know the sort of thing—I’d pick up the phone and I’d know there was someone there, listening, then they’d hang up without speaking. Then an envelope was handed into the surgery for me, with a handwritten note inside saying, I love you, Rachel. Shortly after that the emails started—’
‘What sort of emails?’ He was definitely in policeman mode now.
‘Just chatty sort of things, nothing offensive.’
‘Did you reply to them?’
‘Once I did,’ she admitted. ‘I asked who the sender was and the reply came back that I should know who it was.’ Rachel took a deep breath and found her hands had started to shake slightly.
Nick must have noticed her distress for he leaned forward and gently touched her arm. ‘Take your time,’ he said.
‘It’s all right,’ she gulped, ‘I’m OK.’
‘What happened next?’
‘The flowers.’
‘Ah, yes,’ he said, ‘the yellow roses—so did you not find out who sent them?’
She shook her head. ‘There was an email, though, asking me if I liked them and making reference to the fact that the sender knew they were my favourite flowers.’
Nick muttered an expletive under his breath. ‘Did you reply to that?’
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘But there’s been a car, Nick, a car that I’ve noticed parked outside here on a couple of occasions late at night, and I think there was someone sitting in the passenger seat as if they were watching the house. And then...’ Her voice shook with emotion. ‘Then I received another email saying they saw my boyfriend visiting me and that they didn’t like that.’
‘Your boyfriend?’ Nick’s frown deepened.
‘They must have meant you, when you came here the other night—there hasn’t been anyone else here...’ Her voice cracked. ‘Oh Nick, do you think it was him? Do you think I would have been next?’
‘I can hardly believe this, Rachel.’ Nick was quite obviously astounded at what he had heard.
‘Well, it really happened.’
‘I don’t doubt that,’ he said tersely. ‘What I can’t believe is that you never told me.’
‘There was a reason for that, Nick.’
‘I can’t imagine what the reason could be.’ He still looked astounded.
‘I thought I knew who it was,’ Rachel faltered.
‘So go on.’ He stared at her. ‘Tell me, who did you think it was?’
‘I thought it was a patient.’ She took another deep breath. ‘A young man called Tommy Page...’
‘I know Tommy,’ said Nick, ‘at least, only so much as to have seen him around the town with his mother. What made you think it was Tommy?’
‘I heard him tell his mother one day that he loved me and it was shortly after that the note was handed in at Reception, then the phone calls and the emails...’
‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me?’ There was a mixture of exasperation and anger in Nick’s eyes as he looked at her.
‘I didn’t want to get Tommy into trouble,’ she said. ‘His mother does a fantastic job looking after him and I just didn’t want to add to her worries.’
‘And what if it wasn’t Tommy? Didn’t that occur to you, given what was going on in the town at the same time?’ He looked faintly incredulous now, putting Rachel onto the defensive.
‘Not at first I didn’t, no,’ she replied firmly, tilting her chin.
‘And afterwards?’ He raised one eyebrow.
‘Well, yes, I must admit I did begin to doubt it could be Tommy. The things that were happening did seem to be beyond his capabilities...’
‘And yet still you didn’t tell me?’
‘No,’ she replied defensively, ‘because I still couldn’t quite convince myself it wasn’t Tommy. So in the end I went to see his mother. Tommy wasn’t there, he was at the day centre—anyway, I told his mother what was happening and asked her if she would have a word with him.’
‘And what was her reaction to that?’ Nick was still very much the policeman.
‘She said she would but she also made it plain that she doubted it was Tommy, that basically he wouldn’t be capable of it.’
‘She could have simply been trying to protect him.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Rachel said. ‘I thought that, too. Anyway, I thought I’d wait
and see if anything else happened but then Rowena came to the surgery and told me about her stalker.’
‘Did that alert you to the fact that this could have been the same person harassing you?’
‘Not immediately, although I have to say I was becoming uneasy by this time, but it wasn’t until the last email that I really became concerned.’
‘The one about seeing me visiting you?’
‘Yes. Oh, Nick,’ she said, rising to her feet in sudden agitation and wringing her hands, ‘do you really think it was him?’
‘I would say there’s a very strong possibility,’ he admitted. ‘We’ll question him further obviously but I doubt he’ll be very forthcoming.’
‘But how would this man have known so much about me?’
‘You’d be surprised,’ said Nick, looking up at her. ‘His type make it their business to find out. Just as he hung about the library finding out as much as he could about Rowena, and apparently following Kaylee Munns and hanging around the stall where she worked in the market and going to the club where she went, so, too, he could have been hanging around the medical centre.’
‘That still doesn’t explain how he knew about the yellow roses,’ said Rachel, ‘and my email address—how in the world did he get that?’
Nick stood up. ‘Goodness knows,’ he said. ‘Did you keep the emails?’
‘No, I deleted them.’
‘We could probably retrieve them from your Internet service provider, but I doubt they would tell us very much. That is if you want us to set up a separate inquiry into this.’
‘I don’t think there’s much point,’ said Rachel. ‘If it was Tommy then I think now that his mother is involved he will probably stop, and if it was the guy you have in custody I have nothing more to fear.’
‘Oh, Rachel.’ Nick stared at her, his expression indefinable, then gently he took hold of her shoulders and turned her to face him. ‘If only you’d told me.’
‘I know,’ she whispered. ‘I’m sorry, I should have told you, Nick.’ She looked up into his face as he let go of her shoulders and slipped his arms around her, holding her tight.
‘I don’t know what I would have done if anything had happened to you,’ he said, and suddenly his voice was husky with emotion. ‘I don’t think I could have borne it, Rachel, to have found you again after all this time...only to lose you to a perverted fiend like that...’
Rachel had grown very still in his arms, hardly daring to breathe, then as the meaning of his words became clear and the look in his dark eyes echoed the desire that was rising in her own body, she allowed her arms to go around his neck, her fingers to sink into his hair and her lips to part beneath his.
CHAPTER NINE
THIS time there was no holding back. This time all the pent-up passion and frustration that had lain dormant in the years they’d been apart and that had simmered so dangerously near the surface since the moment they had met again suddenly exploded.
‘Rachel, oh, my Rachel,’ Nick groaned between kisses, kisses so hot, so passionate that Rachel began to fear she might never recover. ‘I can’t lose you again, not now that I’ve found you.’ His hands moulded her body with a strength that left her gasping.
‘I want you, Rachel,’ he muttered. ‘I love you, I always have.’
Any such explosion of passion had its point of no return and it was Rachel who, when that moment arrived, briefly restrained Nick and held him back.
‘Not here,’ she whispered. ‘Upstairs.’
Their clothes and shoes formed a trail out of the sitting room, through the hall, up the stairs and into her bedroom where at last they both gave in to the overwhelming surge of desire that threatened to consume them.
For Rachel it felt like coming home as memories flooded back and all sensation reached a new heightened level—the sight of him, the feel, the smell were all as she remembered. He had been her first love and all that was different now was the benefit of experience that each had gained in the intervening years. They had both been very young before, young and immature, unsure of themselves, but that had changed now as, with a skill and mastery that took her breath away, Nick made love to her and lifted her to almost forgotten heights of pleasure.
Afterwards they lay in a tangle of bedclothes, satiated and fulfilled.
‘That,’ said Nick, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling, ‘was every bit as good as I remembered—better, in fact, if I’m honest. What do you think?’ Turning his head, he looked lazily at Rachel.
‘I’ll tell you later,’ she replied, lifting her arms and stretching luxuriously.
‘Later?’ He raised himself on one elbow and quizzically looked down at her.
‘Yes, if I remember correctly, once was never enough for you—you always wanted seconds. And I have to say I usually found it to be even sweeter the second time around. Unless, of course...’
‘Unless what?’ he demanded.
‘Nothing.’ She turned her head away from him but he was not prepared to let her get away with that. With a speed that left her gasping he moved across the bed until his body covered hers once more.
‘Now, tell me what you meant,’ he said, seizing her wrists and imprisoning them on either side of her head.
‘That you might not be up to it now...that’s all!’ Gasping and laughing, she arched her body against his, trying to twist away from him but failing miserably.
‘And whatever makes you think that?’ His grip tightened and for a fraction of a second it occurred to Rachel how utterly at his mercy she was.
‘Only that you’re older now, that’s all. In those days you were barely out of your teens...young and incredibly virile...’
‘And you don’t think that’s still the case?’ He gazed down at her, a wicked expression in his dangerous dark eyes.
‘You’d need to prove it to me...’ she began.
‘Oh, I intend to,’ he murmured in the seconds before his mouth claimed hers again, silencing her. ‘Make no mistake about that.’
* * *
Early morning sunlight flooded the room and Rachel opened her eyes, turned her head and smiled dreamily as she saw the empty space beside her and remembered. Nick had left around five o’clock, stumbling around the room gathering up his clothes, stubbing his toe against the bed, cursing under his breath, taking a shower and dressing, then, pausing only to kiss her goodbye, leaving the house to get himself home to change before work.
It had been wonderful, there was no denying that, she thought as she turned onto her back and gazed up at the patterns of sunlight on the ceiling, but, then, that was hardly surprising for sex between them had always been wonderful. It had been other things that had caused problems—things like parental influence, being apart and Nick’s apparent inability to commit. The latter, she now recognised, probably had had something to do with how young they had both been at the time, but it still didn’t alter the fact that he had unceremoniously dumped her without so much as an explanation.
Last night he’d said he loved her. Had he meant it or had it been simply a figure of speech, used in the heat of the moment? And what of her—did she still love him, and if she didn’t how could she have been so weak as to allow last night to happen? And what about Jeremy? A stab of guilt shot through her. If she was completely honest, she’d totally forgotten Jeremy. And if that was the case, surely she should be looking at ways of finally ending the rather tenuous relationship she still had with him. Even as she lay there and thought about it, she knew that was what had to happen. She didn’t love Jeremy any more and she had certainly never loved him in the way she had loved Nick—last night had shown her that—but how could she be sure that her and Nick had any sort of future together?
The fact was, of course, that she couldn’t be sure of any such thing. One night of unbridled passion didn’t really prove anything, but the one thing it had shown her was that, even if this came to nothing with Nick, she couldn’t continue her relationship with Jeremy.
* *
*
The whole of Westhampstead was agog with the news that the police had made an arrest in connection with Kaylee Munns’s murder and the rape and attempted murder of Rowena Woodhouse and that a man had been charged.
‘He’d been living in an old boat down on the canal and stalking local women,’ said Julie with a shudder. ‘Honestly, it makes your blood run cold just to think about it.’
It was later that same morning and the staff of the medical centre had congregated in the staffroom before opening the doors to the public.
‘Well, let’s hope they lock him up and throw away the key,’ said Patti, ‘not that that will be much help to the families he’s torn apart.’
‘Maybe not,’ said Bruce, ‘but at least when he’s convicted it will bring about some sort of closure for them, and for the rest of us, well, perhaps we can slowly get back to some sort of normality.’
They all filed out of the staffroom and Rachel made her way up to her consulting room where as a matter of habit she checked her emails. Just for a moment she found herself holding her breath that there might be a message from her mystery ‘friend’, then with a surge of relief she reminded herself that wouldn’t happen any more, only in the next moment to be seized by a dreadful feeling of panic as once again she allowed her mind to go briefly down the avenue of speculation. It now seemed certain that her stalker was the man who had been charged with those other more serious crimes. What if Rowena hadn’t come forward when she had, providing that crucial piece of evidence that had led to his arrest? What if he’d remained free? How soon would it have been before he’d made some other sort of contact with her beyond emails? How soon before he would have followed her home, or perhaps lain in wait for her somewhere, pouncing on her in the dark and attacking her? She could hardly bear to think of it even now, and she wasn’t certain she would be able to tell anyone else of her fears. She’d told Nick, that was enough. He’d been angry that she hadn’t told him before and had reacted by demonstrating how much she meant to him, but the fear was over now and she knew she had to try to put the whole thing out of her mind and get on with her life.
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