I've Been Watching You: a stunning crime thriller from The North East Police Series

by K. A. Richardson

  Pausing, she frowned. ‘You know I must’ve been pretty damn stupid. What kind of woman stops to check on someone when it’s dark and you’re in the middle of nowhere? It’s the stuff horror movies are made of.’

  ‘You’re not stupid. You cared was all.’

  Jacobs reply was swift, and she gave him a sad smile in response.

  Her mind flooded with a melee of thoughts: It almost feels normal to be discussing this with him, for the first time it’s like I’m just talking about something that happened, not something that’s still happening.

  Ben took in a deep breath and carried on. ‘I didn’t see the knife until it was too late. He jumped up, and stabbed me in the stomach. I remember thinking that it couldn’t really be happening, that I must be dreaming. He tied my hands, and I screamed. At least I think I did. He put tape over my mouth and dragged me further into the field, out of view of the road.’

  Jacob’s heart almost stopped beating. He didn’t know if she realised how matter of fact she sounded, but her story had him hypnotised. How does someone go through that and come out normal at the other end?

  ‘I don’t actually remember a lot about the rape itself. It’s like it all melded into one action. I remember the pain and knowing I was going to die. My stomach was already burning, and I was so scared. I just kept thinking that when he was done, maybe he’d let me go. When he got off me, he wouldn’t stop staring. I’ll never forget his eyes. Even in the moonlight I could see them. They were empty, like I was looking into a black hole.’

  Ben’s voice had lowered to a whisper, and her eyes were troubled.

  ‘You don’t have to say anymore, Ben.’ Jacob had his hand on her thigh as he looked at her, tortured and caught in the memory while trying to stay detached enough to talk.

  ‘I want to. I need to. There has to come a day when I can talk about this without feeling this way right?’

  ‘I dunno, Ben. Sometimes it’s harder to remember. Sometimes it’s better just to not remember.’

  She inhaled deeply, putting her hand on top of his. Her connection to the real world re-established, she focussed on telling the rest. ‘When he was done, he … hurt me. Left me for dead. And I would have been too, if it hadn’t been for the farmer. It was just starting to get light, and I remember hearing the sound of a tractor. The farmer thought I was dead, but I think I must have groaned or something `cos he almost fell over then covered me with his jacket and told me he was getting help. I think I passed out at that point. Aoife said I was unconscious for six days. They didn’t catch him.’

  Ben finally breathed a soft sigh of relief. It hadn’t been as bad this time. It had taken her months to tell her counsellor, Amelia Griffiths. Talking on the forum was different. It was anonymous. But in counselling she’d had her doubts that she’d ever be able to tell it all. She frowned again, remembering the things she hadn’t said. She’d made no mention to Amelia about the scars. Only Aoife knew about those. Criss-cross marks across both her breasts, the smaller straight scars from the knife wounds, the faint bite marks on her shoulders. Sometimes the scars were harder to think about than the actual rape.

  She took in a steadying breath and made eye-contact with Jacob. He looked troubled, shocked and a little green around the gills. Preparing for the rest of the conversation, she silently got up and put the kettle back on. More tea was definitely required.

  8th June, 2350 hours – O’Byrne residence, Sunderland

  As Jacob said his goodbyes at the door, he felt completely drained. He was pleased she trusted him enough to tell him her story, but at the same time what she’d been through beggared belief. Not that he doubted it had happened, but that kind of stuff happened to victims, and the last thing that he would ever have thought Ben was, was a victim.

  He surprised himself by leaning in and kissing her on the cheek while they stood on the front porch. It had seemed like the right thing to do, and she had smiled at him in response. He could see how tired she was, how much it had taken out of her to control her emotion as she’d told him.

  Jacob raised his hand, giving her a wave as he started the engine and pulled away from the house. Now out of view, he frowned.

  She trusted me. She told me all of that despite the fact it must have hurt her like hell to do it.

  Anger simmered beneath the surface. They’d never caught the bastard. He knew if he ever got his hands on him, he wouldn’t be quite so in control of his emotions.

  He had some thinking to do and when he got home he set his music away and stretched before plugging in the settings on the treadmill.

  8th June, 2355 hours – O’Byrne residence, Sunderland

  ‘You told him.’ Aoife’s voice was matter of fact as she sat on the sofa looking up at Ben.

  Ben nodded silently, and plonked herself down on the couch next to her aunt. ‘I didn’t even cry. It’s the first time I’ve told anyone other than you. I thought it would be harder.’

  Aoife moved position, and pulled Ben’s head onto her shoulder. Ben shifted and snuggled in, for a moment remembering how her aunt used to do that on the chair she now used for Grace.

  Planting a kiss on her forehead, Aoife said, ‘Sometimes you don’t realise the specific moment you start to deal with something horrible like what happened to you. You just do, and then it becomes easier to accept. I’ve seen small changes in you over the last year. You’ve grown more confident, it’s only natural to believe that as you’ve grown into this wonderful, beautiful person, the bad stuff has eased.’

  ‘But he’s a guy. I guess I always figured when I told someone, it would be a friend or something.’

  ‘You told the person who it was right for you to tell. It’s that simple. Now, I think it must be time for bed. You look exhausted. Let’s check the house together, then head upstairs.’

  Ben looked up at her aunt. ‘You really think it was the right thing to do? I work with Jacob, it’s probably unprofessional.’

  ‘Bugger that, love. At the end of the day, there’s something between you two. Whether you’re both ready to acknowledge that or not is irrelevant. He obviously wanted to know or he wouldn’t have been here.’

  Ben leaned in and placed a kiss on her aunts soft cheek, inhaling the hint of the lavender body cream she knew Aoife used. It was a smell she would always associate with her aunt. ‘I loves you, Aoife.’

  ‘I loves you too, now let’s be off.’

  Ben helped her aunt to her feet and kept hold of her hand as they checked the house together.

  Chapter Eleven

  9th June, 0910 hours – Whitworth residence, Sunderland

  John had shipped Matthew out of the house and onto the school bus over half an hour ago. He should have left for work already, flexi-time was all very well but he had to work the late starts he took at another time. But he had managed to distract himself with the internet.

  Google was a wonderful search engine. All he had done was enter the words, ‘what’s the best way to kill someone’ and he had millions of hits return. He hadn’t been able to get Ann out of his mind, the crunch as she hit the car replaying as if through a speaker constantly, the image of her crumpled body implanted in his brain.

  He had to feel that again.

  When he’d pushed Eve down the stairs, it had felt good, but this? This was great. He wished he’d gotten out of the car and looked at her face. John wanted to know what it looked like, what death looked like when it happened unexpectedly.

  He had to do it again.

  But who to do it to? It couldn’t be someone close to him, someone who knew him, that would be too obvious. He wasn’t a particular fan of cop shows, but even he knew if someone he knew died then he would be a suspect.

  A stranger then. Someone not connected to him in any way.

  But who?

  This question now implanted in his mind, he gathered his things up and locked up the house. Research, that’s what he needed to do. Even as he drove to work, he had images of crumpled bodies flooding his m
ind, and for the first in a long time, he felt alive.

  9th June, 1405 hours –CSI Department, Sunderland City Centre Depot

  Cass smiled at the front office clerk as she pushed the buggy through the doors and into the corridor that led to the CSI offices. Just being out of the house was a godsend at the minute – the parents and in-laws driving her nuts. It felt like she’d had no time to herself since Isobel had been born. At a week old, her daughter was as cute as a button, and was an excellent sleeper. But it didn’t stop Cass watching her constantly as she slept, terrified that something would happen. It was a habit she was finding hard to break, and deciding that she needed a little air, she’d wrapped the baby up, popped her in the car seat, and driven to work.

  She frowned a little as she felt her abdomen pull in protest – there was still quite a bit of pain, but the doctor had said it was to be expected. He’d also told her to take it easy, but he plainly didn’t have children – no mum could ever take it easy.

  Pushing the buggy was a skill, and she turned the corner into the CSI office as though she was an expert. Ben looked up from the desk as Cass entered the room, and her eyes widened both in shock and pleasure at seeing her friend.

  ‘Cass! What’re you doing here? Isn’t it too soon to be out of the house with Isobel yet?’

  ‘I’m sick to death of being cooped up to be honest. His mum’s round constantly, my mum’s round constantly. It’s like Piccadilly bloody station at my house! I just wanted an hour where I wasn’t with family.’

  ‘You look a little pale. Are you sure you’re OK being out at present?’ Ben frowned a little as she asked – she’d felt the same when she’d had Grace. And had eventually been diagnosed with Post-Natal Depression. Is that what this is?

  Cass pouted, her face reminiscent of a moody teenager. ‘I’m fine. Still a bit sore but that’s no reason I have to stay house-bound right?’ She sighed before continuing, ‘You’re probably right, I probably shouldn’t be out yet. But I was going nuts there. Alex is great, he’s up doing night feeds and everything. And Isobel is a dream. But I guess I just miss my independence. It feels like my little cottage is over-run with people. It’s so loud and all I want to do is sleep for a while.’

  Cass stopped talking when she realised her voice had gone up an octave and had started to sound desperate.

  ‘Izzy’s only a week old – if I feel this nutty now what’s going to happen later? I don’t know if I’m cut out for this.’

  Cass’s voice broke and tears started falling from her eyes.

  Ben jumped from her seat and knelt in front of her friend, pulling her in close in a tight hug. ‘Shhh, it’s OK. What you’re feeling is completely natural. I felt exactly the same when I had Grace. It’s like all of a sudden there’s this little, fragile person that depends on you, and all you want to do is wrap them in cotton wool and keep them all to yourself.’

  She felt Cass sniff on her shoulder, and continued. ‘You have to remember that the parents are just trying to help. This is all new for them too, and they both have their own way of doing things. Have you told Alex how you’re feeling?’

  ‘No, when he’s not taking care of Izzy he’s chatting to his mum or Ali. It feels like he’s not even there sometimes, even though he is.’

  ‘You need to sit and talk to him, Cass, how’s he supposed to know what you’re feeling if you don’t tell him? Can I be honest with you?’

  Cass pulled back and looked into Ben’s eyes, ‘Please.’

  ‘Perhaps you need to speak to a doc too? I had feelings like this when I had Grace, I felt like I wasn’t good enough, and that she would be better off without me. I felt like I was walking in the dark without a candle. I’d barely have enough energy to get washed and dressed. If it hadn’t been for Aoife, I don’t know what I would have done. Cass, what I’m trying to say is talk to someone before the baby blues turn into Post-Natal Depression. I mean you might be fine too, but it’s worth speaking to someone, like your midwife.’

  ‘I shouldn’t be feeling like this, Ben. I’m so lucky; I have everything I could ever have dreamed of. But I’m so afraid something is going to happen to her. I sit and watch her every time she’s asleep. I lie in bed listening to her breathe. I’m so scared, Ben.’

  Cass dissolved into tears again, resting her head back on Ben’s shoulder. After several minutes crying though, she pulled back, and looked slightly more relaxed.

  ‘There are a lot of other women out there who feel the same as you, you know. When you get home I want you to tell Alex how you feel. When’s your next home appointment?’

  ‘Tomorrow morning,’ replied Cass, wiping her hand over her eyes. A sudden rush of determination flashed over her teary eyes, ‘You’re right. I’ll talk to Alex when I get home, and I’ll tell the midwife tomorrow.’ Her voice dropped to a shaky whisper, ‘What if she thinks I’m nuts though?’

  ‘She won’t, Cass, I promise. If you like, I can come and sit with you for the appointment? I’m off tomorrow.’

  Cass gave her head a shake, ‘No, you’ve got enough going on at home. I can do this. Now though, I’m going to get a McDonalds, and I’m gonna head home, and tell some parents I need a little bit of space.’

  ‘If ever you need anything you know where I am. You sure you’re OK to drive? I can take you home if you like?’

  ‘No, I’m OK honest,’ Cass paused and took hold of Ben’s hand. ‘Thanks, Ben, you’re a good friend.’

  A little embarrassed, Ben replied, ‘You’re welcome. Now get that little bundle home to her moses basket. I’ll pop up and see you over the next couple of days.’

  Ben watched as Cass got to her feet and pushed Izzy out of the room. She waited a few more minutes, then picked up her mobile and selected Alex’s name from the contact list.

  ‘Alex, it’s Ben. Listen, Cass has just been to the office with Izzy. I’m not wanting to interfere but you need to know what’s going on …’

  After explaining the situation to Alex, Ben felt both relief and guilt. Cass was going to need a little help, and Alex was best placed to get her that help. Telling him meant that he was aware even if Cass got home and bottled out. Thoughtfully, she turned back to the computer and refocused her attention on inputting her scene notes.

  9th June, 1430 hours –CSI Department, Sunderland City Centre Depot

  Jacob paused outside the office door, listening as he heard sniffling from inside. He heard Ben softly tell someone that it was all OK, and for a minute he wondered what was going on.

  A stab of guilt passed through him – it was rude to eavesdrop. But he’d come all this way to see Ben, believing they needed to carry on from their chat last night.

  The conversation inside the office changed as he listened, and eventually he heard someone shuffle to their feet. Shit, this is gonna look so bad.

  Using his stick, he limped round the corner out of sight. I’m terrible! Can’t believe I’m hiding. What am I, twelve?

  He waited a couple of minutes and walked back round to the office entrance. Ben was on the phone talking softly, and again he found himself listening.

  I’m a bloody stalker is what I am. Pull yourself together and get in there.

  As his train of thought ended, he forced himself to wander into the room, a faint flush on his cheeks the only give away that he wasn’t wholly at ease.

  ‘Hey,’ he said, as Ben looked up.

  He watched as a flash of desire passed over her face, masked by a smile.

  ‘Hey back. You OK? What’re you doing here?’

  ‘I had a job round the corner and thought I’d pop in and say hi. You said last night you were on days today. Last shift?’

  ‘Yeah I’m off after today for three whole days.’

  ‘I erm, wondered if you fancied going out one night? Maybe for dinner or something?’

  Ben froze, her breath caught in her throat. He’s asking me out! On a date! Holy crap, what do I say?

  Releasing her breath, she smiled. ‘That’d be reall
y nice, Jacob. Where did you fancy?’

  ‘Honestly, I don’t have a clue. I don’t date much. There’s a great Mexican in the city centre?’

  ‘Desperado’s? Yeah I know it. Sounds good. What time?’

  Ben thought her voice sounded detached, a little like she was watching herself say it. It sounded polite, and aloof, and for a minute she thought she had scared him off. Her heart was pounding in her ears, and her stomach was turning somersaults. A date? An actual date.

  Jacob smiled back. ‘I could pick you up at say 7.30 p.m.? Would tomorrow be OK?’

  ‘Can we make it Wednesday? Grace has a dance recital tomorrow and I don’t think I’ll be back in time?’

  ‘Thursday is great. I’ll see you then. Here’s my mobile number in case something comes up.’ He handed her his business card.

  As Jacob left the room, Ben found herself grinning like the Cheshire cat. She plugged his number into her phone, and put the card in her purse. Inside her mind, she did a little jig. She hadn’t had a proper date since well before the rape. Maybe she really was ready to start moving on.

  10th June, 0605 hours – Tunstall, Sunderland City Centre

  His eyes blurred as he stared at the computer screen. He’d been sat there for a while now, watching Clarice sleep. It would be so easy to have her now. His mouth went dry at the thought of how she would taste. He needed a release. Bringing himself to orgasm just wasn’t going to cut it this time.

  He grinned to himself as he pulled himself out of the leather computer chair, pulled on a pair of trousers and made his way to an address a couple of streets over.

  Knocking on the door, he waited impatiently for an answer.

  Finally a blurry eyed girl answered, obviously having just woken up.

  Her eyes widened as she saw him standing there. Silently she opened the door to allow him access.

  He knew where he was going, and made his way to the bedroom at the back of the hallway, not even noticing the dirt on the floor and the thread-bare bedclothes. He was there for one reason only, and he knew she would accommodate. She always did, the need for her next fix prevailing over any other emotion.