Upstairs, he picked up a piece of well-done bacon off the grill pan, and wrapped it in a slice of buttered bread from a plate under some cling film.
Then, he opened the fridge, and took several swigs from the carton of milk.
Afterwards, he busied himself by installing two tiny surveillance cameras—one in the lounge and one in Max’s bedroom. He’d hated not knowing what was happening with Hannah the past couple of days. And he wished he’d installed a camera in Max’s apartment, when he’d had the chance.
Don was beginning to think he’d made a huge mistake with Hannah. If he’d taken her out of the picture in the first place, that would have been it. But, now, because of her, he’d killed two people already, and goodness knew how many would end up dead, before he claimed her for himself.
Clair Dietrich had been lucky, all those years ago. He’d been inexperienced and sloppy. After picking her up from a nightclub, he had driven her to the flat he had rented in one of four high-rise buildings. He’d made sure the flat was soundproofed prior to taking her there, but, stupidly, he hadn’t blanked out one of the higher windows. He hadn’t thought it would be an issue, since she had been tied to a small aluminium deck chair.
He’d undressed her, of course. Not for any sexual satisfaction, but her clothes just made it more difficult to care for her, and it wasn’t as though it was cold in there—the heating had been cranked up 24/7. He’d cut a hole in the fabric of the chair to catch her waste in a steel bucket placed underneath. He washed her twice a day, even spending hours brushing her hair until it gleamed. But, after a couple of weeks, just as Clair had begun to settle down and trust the relationship between them, she was spotted by a contractor working on the roof opposite, who called the police.
The first Don knew about it was when his flat was raided by a squad of armed officers, and of course, what they found looked bad, but they never actually asked Clair if she’d been abused. They just looked at the situation, and drew their own conclusion.
At his court-martial a few months later, it was deemed because the victim – the victim! – hadn’t been sexually assaulted and only mildly physically abused, Don would be medically discharged with PTSD, and not dishonourably discharged and imprisoned, which would put the British army in the spotlight once again, which they really didn’t need.
Shaking his head at all his memories, he methodically began trawling through the drawers and cabinets, trying to dig some dirt on his squeaky clean boss, but he found nothing.
Satisfied he’d done everything he needed to do, Don slinked back to his car via the bushes, and headed back to Manchester.
***
After a slap-up lunch of grilled trout, potato salad, and coleslaw, Hannah took herself off to the top deck to take in the sun’s rays.
She attempted to read her book, but her eyes were heavy, and she kept reading the same line over and over. She gave in and dozed for a while.
Soft butterfly kisses along her neck woke her a short time later. She opened her lazy eyes, and smiled at Max. “Hello, you. You stink of fish.”
“You say the nicest things.” He laughed.
She snorted and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply.
“It’s beautiful out here, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Perfect. I don’t want today to end.”
“There’ll be plenty of other days.”
“I know,” she said sadly.
“What’s wrong? Are you worrying about Angela?”
She nodded. “A little. Aren’t you?”
“No. She’s brought it on herself. Even if she’s not responsible for the scratch on the car and the cottage window, she’s guilty of warning you off me, and that, in itself, is unacceptable.” He traced his fingers in circles on her exposed stomach.
“I guess. I wish it was all over, that’s all. I hate trouble and bad feelings.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she doesn’t upset you ever again.”
She smiled, but the feeling of dread wouldn’t leave her.
“So, what do you think of Trixie?”
“She’s beautiful, although I’m totally shocked at the style of boat. I expected you to have a flash, fibreglass speedboat, not this classy old lady.”
“She came with the house. In fact, Dad and I found her rotting in the boat house.”
“Did you? So, who restored her?”
“We did. Well, of course it was Dad more than me, but I helped, where I could.”
“And the name?”
He shrugged. “It was already named Trixie-Belle, and Mum thought it was tacky. She asked Dad to rename her, but when he looked into it he found that, according to legend, it’s bad luck to change the name of a boat.”
“Really?”
“Apparently, there’s a way to do it safely, but the truth is, Dad didn’t want to. He told Mum it would be a lot safer to start calling her Trixie, than to change the name of the boat.”
Hannah chuckled. “And what did she say?”
“She dared him to try it, and never mentioned it again.”
“Sounds as though your dad knew exactly how to get his own way.”
“He taught me everything he knew.” Max wiggled his eyebrows comically.
Chapter 25
“Ready to head back, Max?” Lenny called from the back of the boat.
Startled, Hannah woke, gazing up at the bluest sky she’d ever seen, and remembered where she was.
Max lifted himself onto one elbow, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Yeah. Be right with you.”
“Aw, do we have to?” Hannah whined, pouting like a spoiled child.
“I’m afraid so, sausage. But, we can come back next week.” He got to his feet, and stretched.
“Sausage?” She goggled at him.
“Yes. My little sausage.” He grinned.
“I don’t know if I like that!” She grimaced.
“You’ll get used to it.” The cheeky twinkle had returned to his gorgeous brown eyes.
“Will I now? So, you haven’t gone off me, then?” She lifted into a sitting position, crossing her legs in front of her.
He bit his lip and narrowed his eyes, as though thinking about the question.
She slapped at his foot. “Hey!”
“Joke. Of course I haven’t gone off you. But, still early days, I guess.”
Hannah squealed, and swatted at his retreating back. She followed him, and, once again, sat with Charmaine, while the men did their thing.
Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up to the jetty at the bottom of the exquisite garden.
Lenny helped the ladies disembark, and then he and Max continued to close down the boat.
“Max, I’ll go on ahead and pack my bag,” Hannah called.
“Okay. The door’s open.”
“So, did you enjoy today?” Charmaine asked, as they walked up towards the house.
“I did. Thanks. But, you should’ve let me help prepare lunch.”
“Don’t be silly, it was only a few salads. And besides, it’s my job.”
“I’m sure it’s above and beyond your job description. Working weekends and entertaining your boss’s girlfriend.”
“Well, of course that part wasn’t work. There are perks to any position.” She giggled. “But, Max is rarely here, and when he is, he’s no trouble. I often feel guilty for accepting my pay, when I feel as though I haven’t done anything to earn it.”
“From what he’s told me, you earn every penny.”
They reached the front of the house, and Hannah paused. “Well, it was lovely meeting you, Charmaine. I hope we can do it again.”
They hugged, before heading in different directions.
***
Don arrived back at Simon’s flat, before Hannah and Maxwell-fucking-Myers had returned from their boat trip.
He cooked some eggs and made a pot of strong coffee. Then, he sat back waiting for the show.
First off, he heard the slam of the front door, followed b
y somebody running up the stairs. He couldn’t tell who.
Hannah began singing to herself, and Don realised she was alone.
After a few minutes, she appeared in the doorway of the master bedroom. She stood still for a moment, before darting around the room, collecting her clothing from the carpet. Then, she picked up a piece of white fluff, a puzzled expression on her face.
Just then, another sound from outside the room was followed by a male voice calling out to her.
“I’m in here,” she said flatly.
Hannah turned to greet Max as he entered the room. She held her lime-coloured blouse in one hand and the white fluff in the other.
“What the hell?” Max said, looking from her, to the bed, to the mass of stuffing all over the floor.
Don belched out a laugh, and slapped his thigh. The attack on the bed hadn’t been intentional, but it couldn’t have played out better.
***
The person who’d slashed at the bed must have been in a total frenzy, considering the damage they’d done. Hannah watched, shocked, as Max pulled the loose coverings off the mattress and examined the deep slashes in the surface of it.
Max spun to face her. “Have you been upstairs yet?”
She shook her head, and steadied herself against the doorframe.
“Wait here.”
Never one for doing as she was told, she followed close behind him. She almost jumped out of her skin when he reappeared at the top of the stairs.
“Shit, Hannah! You made me jump.”
“Have they done anything up here?”
“Not that I can tell. But, I’m calling the police. I’ve had as much as I’m going to take now.”
“Do you think it could’ve been Angela again?”
“What do you mean again? We don’t even know for sure if it’s her at all, but I’m not messing about anymore. We can leave it to the police.”
Surprised by his attitude, she backed up to the sofa, and sat down heavily, curling her legs underneath her. She felt sick. She’d been certain somebody was messing with her mind, but now, she’d dragged Max into it.
“I’m sorry for snapping, Hannah.” He crouched in front of her and held her hand.
“That’s okay.” She nodded.
“We’ll get to the bottom of this, I assure you.”
He pulled his phone from his pocket, and walked towards the breakfast bar. She listened as he gave his details and a brief explanation of the crime to the police, then he hung up.
“They might not be here for a few hours,” he said, sitting next to her.
She quickly looked at her watch—4.34pm.
“Don’t worry, sausage. We don’t need to go back to the city tonight, unless you want to, that is?”
“What about work?”
He shrugged. “Are you forgetting it’s my company?”
“No, but…”
“Don’t worry about your job. I want to keep you away, until the police look into everything. We don’t know how unstable this person is.” He gently encircled her shoulders with his arm. “Oh, my God! You’re shaking.”
Once she’d calmed down, they went to let Lenny and Charmaine know what had happened.
They walked around the back of the cottage to a small stone patio where Max tapped on the window.
Charmaine was in the kitchen, peeling potatoes. She threw the peeler onto the bench, and called Lenny before unlocking the door and inviting them inside.
Lenny ran down the stairs, tucking his T-shirt into the waist of his jeans. “Hey, mate. Take a seat.” He gestured to the sofa.
Hannah noticed the boarded-up window, as she sat beside Max on the sofa. She winced inwardly at the damage—several of the panel frames were completely smashed.
“We’ve had an intruder,” Max said. “They’ve slashed my bed and all my bedding.”
Charmaine gasped.
“Who’d do that?” Lenny said, shaking his head. “How did they get in?”
“I didn’t lock up. But, to be honest, I never do, until I’m leaving for the city. I’ve never needed to before.”
“Yeah, we’re the same. You don’t usually see anybody at this end of the lake.”
“That’s two acts of vandalism in twenty-four hours,” Charmaine said. “You need to call the police.”
“I have. They won’t be here for a while. But, we’ll stay here tonight anyway.”
“Do you want to stay for dinner? I have plenty,” Charmaine asked, raising her eyebrows.
Max glanced at Hannah.
She shook her head. “Not for me, thanks. I feel quite sick, to be honest. It was such a shock.”
Charmaine crossed the room to crouch beside Hannah. “Lenny, make some hot sweet tea, will you? She looks deathly pale.”
Max reached for Hannah’s hand. “She thinks she knows who’s responsible, and that they’ve been stalking her for weeks.”
“Who?” Charmaine asked, wide-eyed.
“Angela. My PA and head of Human Resources,” he said.
Charmaine screwed her face up. “Really? Why?”
Max glanced at Hannah. “You tell her.”
“Because she fancies him.” Hannah nodded at Max. “She’s already warned me off him once. Plus, she was the only person who knew we were together, and she has access to Max’s private details, so could easily find this address.”
Charmaine exhaled noisily and returned to her seat. “Crazy bitch!”
“Who’s a crazy bitch?” Lenny said, appearing with a heavily laden tray.
Charmaine explained to her husband what they’d been talking about.
“Jeez, man. What will you do about it?” Lenny asked Max.
“To be fair, Angela might not be responsible. It’s one thing warning Hannah off me, but it’s quite another to break into her flat and my house, and purposefully destroy our belongings.”
“So, someone’s been in your flat, too?” Charmaine asked Hannah.
Hannah nodded. “I’ve no real evidence, but some of my belongings have been tampered with—even replaced, which I know sounds crazy.”
“The police will need to look into it,” Max said. “In the meantime, we’ll stay here for a day, or two. I can work from here, no problem.” He glanced at Hannah for confirmation. “Is that alright?”
“Of course. I’m just relieved you believe me.”
“What’s not to believe? I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” Max indicated to the damaged window.
“You think the same person is responsible for the window as well?” Lenny asked.
“I do, yeah. Who else would bother traipsing all this way around the lake, just to lob a rock through the window?” Max said.
“Make sure you lock up tonight,” Lenny said, pouring the tea.
Max took a cup from his friend. “The same goes for you. Be extra vigilant. We don’t know how far this person is willing to go.”
Chapter 26
Don was wild with himself. His actions had caused Maxwell-fuckin-Myers to insist Hannah stay away for longer. However, he had discovered something remarkable—they thought Angela Beanie was responsible for everything, which made him howl with laughter.
He’d never liked Angela. And he could tell the feeling was mutual, so he decided to play a little game with the lot of them.
The police still hadn’t arrived at the lake house when he had to leave for work, but he would be able to log into the surveillance cams from the security hub.
After taking over from the day staff, he spent an hour getting set up for the evening. Once Ken was occupied, Don left him to it, and headed straight for the security hub, where he temporarily looped the cameras to the staff lockers.
Then he removed Hannah’s bag from his locker, and shoved it into the back of Angela Beanie’s, along with the original black dress. He just wished he’d brought a souvenir from the lake house to stitch her up completely.
Back in the security hub, he logged into the lake house cameras, and sat in wait for the police.<
br />
***
“Can I make you a sandwich?” Max said, as they returned to the house. “Are you hungry?”
“Maybe later. I don’t think I could stomach anything right now.”
He rubbed her shoulder, as they snuggled on the sofa staring out at the glassy lake and scenic mountains in the distance.
“I wish the police would hurry up. It’s making me feel jittery waiting for them,” she said.
“They’ll be coming from Penrith, probably. And don’t forget it’s Sunday—we’ll be lucky if we see them before morning.”
“Really? What if it was an emergency?”
“Then, they’d send out an emergency vehicle. But, I told them it wasn’t. The intruder had already left.”
She rummaged in her handbag for her phone. No calls or messages. She sighed, and threw it back into the bag.
“Do you want to call your mum? You said you would this evening.”
She nodded. “I will, later. And I’ll try Simon, too, if that’s alright? Not that he can do much from Seattle, although he might want to send flowers.”
“We could arrange flowers from you both, if you like. Then, at least he won’t feel bad if he misses the funeral,” Max said.
“That’s a good idea. Thanks, Max. My mind isn’t functioning properly at the moment.”
He hugged her to him, and she sighed. For all that was wrong around them right now, being with him felt so right.
*
The police arrived just before 9pm.
Hannah had been dozing in Max’s arms on the sofa, and she woke with a start when they heard loud rapping at the front door.
“It’s okay, sausage. It’s just the police,” he said, heading for the stairs.
She heard the police radios, as the officers trudged up the stairs, and she folded the throw and sat upright.
A portly uniformed officer, who appeared close to retirement age, entered first. He was puffing and panting, as though he was about to keel over. A younger, attractive, blonde female officer came up behind him.
The Watcher : A Chilling Serial Killer Thriller Page 14
