Shadows of Knight: Book 1 of Dark Shadows - a Romantic Suspense Trilogy

by M E Whiter

  “I’m sure he’s right. Has he talked to you about the recovery process?”

  “Yes. We talked about it yesterday. He tells me that I should be able to leave the hospital in a day or two. After that, it could take a couple of weeks at least, before I’m moving about without some kind of support aid.”

  “Have you organised for somewhere to stay, after you leave here?"

  “Not yet. I plan on staying with my cousin, Mary. She lives in Victoria.”

  “Have you contacted her yet?”

  “Um . . . no, not exactly. She’s in South Africa at the moment. She won’t be back for another couple of weeks,” I reply, a nervous edge to my voice. I’m waiting for his barrage of questions to stop, so he can get to the point of them. “I’m hoping to stay at her place, until she gets back.” I add, hoping that will put an end to the matter.

  Talking about leaving hospital? It reminds me, that I don’t have any money, or keycards, and my replacement passport won't be ready for another few days. What on earth, am I going to do, if I can’t get a hold of Mary in time? Bloody hell! I can’t believe this is happening to me. I mean you hear about things like this, happening to other people, you just never think it will happen to you. I definitely can’t ask Sebastian to help. As it is, his generosity has been far beyond anything I’m normally willing to accept.

  Just when I think Sebastian is going to ask another tiresome question, he’s interrupted, by Louise entering the room, carrying a bag of toiletries. When she notices Sebastian sitting next to my bed, she stops in her tracks. “Oh, I see you have a visitor, Rachel. Good afternoon Mr Knight. It’s nice to see you back.” Her eyes remain focused on Sebastian, as he stands up, and turns to face her.

  Straightening the creases in his pants, he says, “Hello Louise. I guess this is my cue to leave.”

  “I can always come back later, if you’d like?” she offers, smiling sweetly at him.

  “No, that will not be necessary. Besides, I think Miss Day is ready for her bath now. She is looking a little flushed. And, I have the feeling she would rather I not be here, to watch,” he says, turning to me, with a seductive expression on his too handsome face.

  Hmmp! He knows damn well he’s the cause of it. And it’s not because of the reason he thinks. His constant questions, were wearing me out.

  “I will come back tomorrow, Miss Day. I want to be here, when the police interview you. I do not want you, having to deal with them on your own. If that is all right with you, of course?”

  “I guess that will be fine, but please, call me Rachel?” He steps forward, picking up my hand, his blue eyes holding mine captive, as he leans forward and kisses the back of it. The gesture is chivalrous, causing my heart to skip a beat.

  “Enjoy your bath, Rachel.” The accentuated way he pronounces my name, with that slight Latin accent of his, making it sound so seductive and suggestive, almost causes me to swoon. All too soon, he lets go of my hand giving me a wink, as he straightens up. He turns to face Louise. “She is all yours for now, Louise,” he nods, as he walks past her. I grin to myself, when I catch Louise, checking out his firm behind, on the way out.

  “Wow, Rachel. He’s one fine specimen of manhood,” she says, carrying the wash basin filled with supplies, for my bath. “The newspaper photos definitely don’t do him justice,” she says, her eyes looking all dreamy. Hmm, I wonder if my eyes look like that, when I think about him.

  TUESDAY, 12th August

  Rachel

  MY MOOD HAS been edgy since lunchtime. The daily routine of the hospital, hasn’t helped to distract me, from worrying about the police interview, only an hour away from now. I had been awake half the night, going over, again and again, ad nauseam, what I will have to tell them.

  So far, the only good news about today, is that Sebastian’s personal assistant, James, dropped off my suitcases earlier. Along with his own personal apology, for what happened. Poor man, he looked uncomfortable, relaying it to me. I felt sorry for him. I told him, the same thing I told Sebastian, that I don’t blame him for what happened to me.

  Checking the clock on the wall, for the hundredth time, I realise there’s only half an hour left, before the police arrive. I’m still deciding whether I should tell them the real reason why I landed on the road. How can I even be sure, that what I do remember, is actually what did happen, when I could barely remember anything, a few days ago?

  What if I only imagined someone pushing me? What if the police don’t believe my story? What if they do believe it, and they want to run an investigation? How long will it take? Ugh! Tick. Tick! The closer the time gets, the faster my heart beats, as dread lodges itself in my chest. I just hope I don’t faint, or worse, have a heart attack.

  Knock! Knock! Crap, they’re here already.

  The door opens, and Sebastian walks in, wearing a navy-striped wool suit, with a red satin tie over a white shirt. He looks as if he’s just stepped out of the office. When our eyes meet, the warm smile spreading across his handsome face, helps to make me feel a little less anxious.

  “Hello Rachel,” he says walking over to my bed. When he gets nearer, a deep frown of concern appears on his face. “You look unwell, is there something wrong?”

  “I’m just nervous,” I reply, twirling a strand of loose hair, around my index finger. “I’ve never had to speak to the police before. I’m not sure what to expect.”

  “There is nothing for you to worry about,” he explains, taking my hand and gently squeezing it, as he sits on the side of my bed. “All you have to do, is tell the police what you remember. I will be here with you.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate that. There’s something I think I should tell you before . . .” I don’t get a chance to continue, when a knock on the door, interrupts me. When the door opens, it’s Louise. She ushers in, two tall, uniformed police officers, and then without a word, she steps back out into the hallway, closing the door behind her.

  The younger officer remains by the door, while his partner, with the green eyes and receding hairline, walks towards my bed. His broad muscular frame, beneath his neatly-pressed uniform, helps to compensate for the slight paunch around his mid-section. But, unfortunately, his large bulbous nose, is something I can’t help but turn my focus on. Sebastian moves forward to greet him.

  “Good afternoon, Mr Knight,” he says, shaking Sebastian’s hand.

  “Tom. How’s it going?” It seems like Sebastian and he have met before.

  “Will you be staying, while we speak with Miss Day?”

  “Yes, Rachel . . . Miss Day, has already given her consent, for me to be here,” Sebastian replies, moving aside, so the officer can address me.

  “Good afternoon Miss Day, my name is Detective Tom Beckett and this is my partner, Constable Paul Grainger,” he announces, nodding towards his partner. "We are from the VPD Collision Investigation Unit. We’d like to talk to you about the accident.”

  “Hello,” I reply, linking my fingers together, like I'm praying for this interview, to be over already. Sebastian must sense my distress, because he moves the chair over, closer to my bed, and sits down.

  “How are you feeling today?” Detective Beckett asks, sounding like your typical police officer, his manner professional and polite.

  “I’m fine thank you,” I lie to him, because I don’t think he’s interested in hearing, that my tummy is churning, and I could throw up, all over his shiny black shoes, at any moment.

  “Right then,” he says, taking out an audio device, and setting it up to record. He then sets it down, on the portable hospital table, at the end of my bed. “Before we start, I'd like to get some background information.”

  Most of the questions, ask for my personal information, name, date of birth, nationality, that sort of thing. When he asks me, the purpose of my visit to Vancouver, I tell him I received a seven day holiday package, as a gift. And that, it had been organised through a company called Elite Club Vacations. Connor Black, was assigned to me, as my tour guide
for the week. I also explained that I was extending my stay for a few weeks afterwards, so I could catch up with my cousin Mary, when she returns from her trip to South Africa.

  I deliberately leave out, certain particulars. Namely, about the anonymous benefactor who paid for the trip. And that, I was on my way to an interview with him, to discuss an art commission job, the morning I was hit by Sebastian's car. Nor do I reveal, that the holiday was free, as part of the incentive package, to entice me to come here. I didn't see that any of it was relevant to my accident. I also dread the thought of what they'd think of me, if they knew I didn't even know, who this person was, not even their name.

  “Let’s move on, to the day of the accident. Can you tell us what you remember?”

  “I'm not sure if I remember it all, but I'll try my best." Just then, Sebastian gives my hand a reassuring squeeze.

  “That’s all right, just take your time.” He has a calming quality to his voice, which surprises me, as it doesn’t match my first impression of him, based on his rather gruff facial expression. “Why don’t you start from the time you left the hotel."

  "All right.” I nod, taking a deep breath, to collect my thoughts. When I'm ready to proceed, I try to keep my voice calm, as I recall everything that I can remember, about that morning. From the time, I met Connor in the hotel lobby, with him acting strange, to the part where we walked down the street towards Canada Place. When I get to the part where we are standing on the curb, waiting to cross over at the traffic lights, I stop, hesitating to go any further.

  Wringing my fingers together, I avoid making eye contact with any of the men in the room, anxiously aware of their eyes on mine, waiting for me to continue. Dread runs through my veins, at the thought of how they are going to react, when I tell them what happened next.

  “Please go on, Miss Day." Detective Beckett urges. Paranoia feeds into my fear, thinking that he shares the same belief as Dr Logan, that the accident was through my own careless fault. I'd simply stepped out in front of the traffic, against a red light, without thinking about, what I was doing.

  “Well . . .," I hesitate briefly, scraping enough courage together, to press on. “We were waiting for the traffic lights to change, when I felt someone press their hand on my lower back, and then . . . the next thing I know, I'm being shoved forward, into the oncoming traffic.”

  Hearing Sebastian’s sharp breath, causes me to pause for a moment. And, although I can sense his gaze on me, I don't dare look at him. I can only guess he's thinking what they all must, that I'm making this up.

  I keep my head lowered, while I finish the rest of my statement, even though, I'm fairly certain, they know the rest, better than I do. “I didn't see Sebastian's car . . . until it hit me. The next thing I remember, is waking up here."

  I take a deep breath, to relieve my anxiety. If nothing else, at least I can be glad that, I don’t have to carry the burden of what really happened, locked up inside my head, any longer. I hold my breath, waiting for one of them to say something.

  The momentary silence seems to stretch out like an a never-ending sigh. I can feel the pressure from Sebastian’s gaze piercing through me, but I don’t dare look at him, in case I find only disbelief in his eyes.

  “Well now, Miss Day, this certainly changes the situation. Are you absolutely sure that someone pushed you?” he asks, his voice sounding just as skeptical as the look on his face. It strengthens my belief that he doesn’t believe my story.

  “Yes, I definitely remember being pushed.” I reply, my face looking crestfallen, when I glance around the room and see the doubtful expression on each of their faces.

  Chapter Nine

  TUESDAY, 12th August

  Rachel

  “I REALISE THIS must be very upsetting for you, Miss Day," Detective Beckett says, switching off his audio device. He turns to Sebastian. “Mr Knight, did you know about this?”

  “No Tom,” he says, shaking his head. “This is the first time I'm hearing about it." He glances over at me, with a reproachful look in his dark eyes. I can tell, he's not pleased, I didn't tell him this yesterday, when he questioned me about the accident.

  “So, at the time, you didn't hear anyone mention having seen Miss Day being pushed?” Detective Beckett asks, looking puzzled.

  “No Tom. I certainly would have told you, If I had.”

  "Alright then, let's continue. Miss Day, did you see who it was, that pushed you?"

  "No. They were behind me."

  "Didn't you tell us, Connor Black was standing behind you? So, isn’t it more than likely, that he was the one, who pushed you?”

  "I suppose so. But, I wasn't paying any attention to where he was, my focus was watching for the lights to change, so we could cross the street."

  He nods his head and says, “I see. And where were you and Mr Black, going at the time?"

  Oh crap! I can't tell him the truth without exposing the fact, that I deliberately withheld the part about my interview appointment.

  So I keep my reply simple, by telling him that, "We were on our way to Canada Place. It was Connor's last day as my tour guide, so he planned on showing me a bit more of the city."

  “I see. We will need to talk to him, to see if he can give us a clearer idea, of what happened. Do you know where we can contact him?"

  "Not off the top of my head. All my contact details are in my address book, which is missing along with my handbag."

  "That's rather inconvenient,” he says, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck.

  "Tom," Sebastian interrupts. "It seems obvious to me, that whoever pushed Rachel, may have also stolen her handbag."

  "Maybe? For now though, we will search for the address of the travel club you mentioned, Miss Day. See if they can give us an address for Mr Black." A deep frown appears on Detective Beckett’s face, when he shakes his head at me. “Miss Day, why didn’t you report all this, earlier?”

  “Because, I know how bizarre it sounds, that someone would deliberately push me. And to be honest, I didn’t think anyone would believe me,” I tell him, shrugging my shoulders.

  “Tom, I hope you intend on giving this situation your serious consideration?”

  “Mr Knight, I can assure you, we will be investigating this matter further.”

  “I also think given the circumstances, that Miss Day needs some form of protection. If this was a deliberate assault, then her safety may still be in danger."

  “I can't authorise police protection without enough evidence, to suggest that she is at risk. At this stage, we haven’t even been able to locate any of the witnesses, who were there at the time, that may have seen what happened.”

  Turning to me, Detective Beckett says, "I have to be honest with you Miss Day. We don’t have much information to go on, apart from your statement, but we will definitely look into this matter further. If it’s alright with you, I’ll send a sketch artist along, to help you draw up a likeness of him. At least, it will give us some idea of who we’re looking for, just in case, we can’t get an address on him.”

  “Yes, I’m fine with that.”

  "So, what happens now?” Sebastian asks, as if this is his concern. He’s only supposed to be here to give me some moral support, nothing more.

  “We need to speak to Connor Black, but first, we have to find him,” he says, looking over at Sebastian. “In the meantime, we’ll set up a media release, asking for witnesses to come forward.” When he’s finished, he picks up his audio recorder and places it in his pocket. "Well, I think that will be all, for now. Miss Day, I’ll leave you with my card. If you think of anything else, please don't hesitate to give me a call." He pulls out his card and drops it on the bed table.