The One Who Watches

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The One Who Watches Page 25

by Emerald O'Brien


  “Danny? He’s on vacation.” He sniffled and wiped his nose with the ball of tissue.

  “Can you tell us where he is?”

  “North of Torrance, at the old fishing cabin. What’s going on?”

  “We have reason to believe he might be in danger, and we are trying to communicate with him, but we haven’t been able to reach him.”

  “Yuh, that’s about right. No cell reception up there. That’s why we bought it.”

  “You own it too?”

  “Us and another friend of ours all share it. It’s our retirement getaway.”

  “And you’re sure he’s there?”

  “Yuh. I was supposed to go with him, but I got sick. What’s this about danger?” He rubbed his eyes and blinked several times, waking up.

  “There’s someone who is targeting him, and it’s important we get in contact with him. Do you have a way to do that?”

  “No, but I have the address.”

  She nodded and handed him her notepad. “Could you write it down, please?”

  “Sure. Come in.”

  He stepped back, and they entered the home, which smelled of cedar and cloves. He disappeared into the kitchen and emerged with a pen as they stood in the doorway.

  “Are you sure he left?”

  “Yuh,” he said as he wrote. “Car’s gone.”

  “When were you supposed to return?”

  He handed the notepad back to her. “Tomorrow. That’s Sunday, right? I’ve been in bed. Hard to keep track.”

  “Right,” Malone said.

  “Now nobody really knows about the cabin,” he said, “so I don’t think anyone’ll find him up there. It’s kind of been our secret for the past few years. Danny always carries a gun with him. He’ll have protection, too. I’m sure by noon tomorrow, you’ll be able to reach him on his cell phone.”

  Can’t wait that long. North of Torrance is over two hours away.

  “I’m going to call in a favor,” she said and stepped away, pulling out her phone.

  She called the number for the police station and asked they send someone out to the address the neighbour had supplied, explaining the situation as they disappeared into the kitchen. They promised her an update within the hour, and after ending the call, she joined the men in the kitchen.

  “Jerry’s just making coffee,” Malone said. “You want some?”

  “No. Thanks. The Torrance P.D. are going to check on Newcomb at his cabin. Said we should get an update in an hour.”

  “Good.” Malone sat at the table, and Jerry poured coffee into two mugs. “Jerry, you mind if we wait here?”

  “I think we should go too,” Grace said. “Just because they’ll get there first doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be there. I have questions to ask Newcomb about his case, and if there’s anything going on up there, I want to be there.”

  “Sheppard, we’ve been driving all night. You want to drive another two hours when the Torrance P.D. will have it under control?”

  Jerry handed Malone a mug and held the other out to Grace. “You should have a warm drink. You’re all damp.”

  She sighed and took it. “Thank you, sir.” The warmth from the mug soothed her hands.

  “Just Jerry,” he said. “Let’s go sit in the front room? You both look like you could use a quick rest.”

  Malone followed him out of the kitchen, but Grace lingered by the window overlooking the foggy backyard.

  We should go. I should be there if something has happened. If Roger’s there…

  She set the mug down and strode to the door, passing the men in the front room. “Thank you for your help, Jerry. Come on, Malone.”

  “Fine.” Malone joined her at the door as she slid her shoes on. “Hold on. Jerry, could I use your commode?”

  “Sure.” Jerry pointed to the powder room to their left.

  “I’ll meet you outside.” Grace huffed, nodded to Jerry, and walked out the door.

  She stepped down the driveway, surrounded by darkness and fog. Her shirt and pants clung to her cool, damp skin as she walked to the car.

  I need to fill Banning in before we go.

  She checked her phone.

  Madigan hasn’t checked in yet…

  A flash of light through the fog caught her attention. She turned toward Newcomb’s home, but it sat in darkness and silence as it had before.

  Did that come from Jerry’s home?

  Malone strode out the door and waved goodbye to Jerry.

  “Hey,” she whispered. “What was that light? Did you see that in there?”

  He frowned and shook his head.

  “I think it came from Newcomb’s place… or somewhere around there,” she whispered.

  They walked across the lawn, both their hands hovering by their hips as they crossed the wet grass, back toward the garage.

  Maybe I’m seeing things…

  Malone stopped and cocked his head to the side. “Did you hear that?” he whispered, scanning the property between the houses.

  “No.” She squinted through the fog and stood still, holding her breath, listening.

  “It sounded like…”

  “What?” she whispered.

  He turned his head toward the house. “I don’t know. Like it came from somewhere in the fog.”

  Madigan opened the door, and Melanie sprang off the bed and rushed toward her.

  “I’m next,” she said and brushed past, closing the door, and a click followed.

  Madigan walked to the bed and took Melanie’s place beside Raven, leaning in to whisper, “Hey, I have a question, and it might seem strange, but Melanie’s gray car in the lot. Does she have something pink hanging from the rearview mirror on it?”

  Raven frowned. “A pig.”

  “A pig?”

  “A little stuffed pig she got from her niece. Why?”

  Madigan glanced at the door and back at Officer Vila. “She’s been the one following you, Raven.”

  “What?”

  “Has Melanie been over to your house? Ever?”

  “To pick me up sometimes.”

  “Have you asked her to do that in the past few weeks?”

  “No…”

  “The teen across the street,” Madigan whispered, “he’s seen her car drive by more than a few times in the past few weeks. He said he didn’t recognize it.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “Maybe she’s stalking you. I don’t know. I don’t think she should be here with us.” She turned to Vila. “Officer Vila?”

  He turned around.

  “I think Melanie should go,” she whispered.

  “Why?”

  “Madigan,” Raven whispered, “I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”

  Madigan turned to Vila again. “I don’t think it’s safe with her here.”

  The bathroom door opened, and Melanie walked into the room, stopping short of the first bed as they all watched her. “What did I miss?”

  “Ma’am,” Vila said, “I’m going to have to ask that you go. If you need money for a cab, I can provide that for you, but—”

  “Go?” Melanie muttered and frowned at Vila. “Go?” She raised her voice and marched toward them. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” Raven said, coughing the rest of a sentence Madigan couldn’t understand.

  “I don’t think you should be here right now,” Madigan said, stepping in front of the bed.

  “Why?” Melanie craned her head back and turned to Madigan. “What’s this about? Really?”

  “Mel,” Raven huffed out her name, but Melanie stared Madigan down.

  “You’ve been following Raven.” Madigan crossed her arms over her chest. “I know you have. I have witnesses who have seen you in her subdivision, on her street.”

  Melanie frowned and shook her head, turning to Raven, but Madigan stepped in the way of her view, regaining her attention.

  “You’ve never liked me,” Melanie spat. “You think I’m the one following h
er, leaving her gifts?”

  “I know you’ve been around her street, uninvited. I know you seem to care about her, but you were missing for hours after the fire.” Madigan turned and stepped back, facing Raven. “She wasn’t there for you.”

  “What are you taking about?” Melanie asked. “I was outside the double doors of her surgery room while she was being taken care of. I followed her to the hyperbaric chamber treatment she got just after. I only went home to change once she got a room, and I knew she was okay.”

  Raven nodded. “It’s true. She was there.”

  “You’re not denying that you’ve been following her.” Madigan turned to Vila. “She said her car didn’t work anymore, but it does, and she’s been using it to stalk Raven.”

  “I haven’t!”

  “You haven’t?” Madigan turned to her. “So my source is a liar?”

  Melanie rested her hands on her hips. “Yes, the car has been fixed. Yes, I’ve driven to Raven’s place a few times.”

  Raven frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me? Or come see me? Were you there to see me?”

  Melanie licked her lips and took a step forward, but Madigan held her hand up.

  “Madigan,” Raven whispered, “it’s okay.”

  Melanie stepped to her bedside and sat beside her, staring up at the ceiling.

  “Just tell me,” Raven whispered.

  Melanie looked down at her. “I didn’t want to tell you like this. I wanted to bring my car—the car I finally had fixed—to your place, outside work hours and surprise you with a drive into Torrance.”

  Raven stared at her, the frown disappearing.

  “I wanted to take the car that’s been an eyesore—no matter what you say, it is—and take you on an antiquing trip to your favourite barn house there.”

  “You did?” Raven asked, confusion in her voice. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

  “Because,” Melanie stared at her hands, clasped together in her lap. “I wanted to take you to one of your favourite places and have a nice day, and a nice time, and it would have been the right time to let you know…that I like you.”

  Madigan and Vila exchanged a glance before looking back at the women.

  Didn’t see that coming.

  “I kept trying to work up the nerve to do it, but I never could. I know we have a casual working friendship, but it hasn’t been anything more because I’ve been trying to keep it professional and because… well, I know you like men. I didn’t know if you were into women. Then, I heard about your date, and the gifts started coming, and at first, I was jealous, but then I was worried for you. It just wasn’t the right time, but then I thought, when is it ever the right time? So I drove to your house, the day of the fire, that afternoon, and I was sure I’d be ready to tell you, but I chickened out…”

  Raven pressed her lips together and took Melanie’s hand in hers.

  “We work together almost every day.” Melanie shook her head. “I didn’t want to put you in a bad position, and I didn’t want to get hurt. I love my job. I love working with you. I don’t—”

  “I like you too.” Raven grinned as her chest heaved up and down.

  “You do?” Melanie whispered.

  Vila cleared his throat and turned back to the window, shaking Madigan out of her intense focus on the two women.

  “Melanie.” Madigan cleared her throat. “I’m sorry for suspecting you had something to do with this.”

  “I get it,” Melanie said. “It was sketchy of me to drive by like that—”

  “But now it makes sense, and I’m just sorry for the vibes I was giving you.”

  “Likewise.” Melanie turned back to Raven.

  Madigan walked to the other bed and sat facing the bathroom to give them privacy. Their whispers barely reached her as her phone vibrated on the bed beside her.

  A text from Grace. Send me an update when possible.

  Madigan huffed and sent back: Still at the motel. All quiet except for the whispers of two soon-to-be-lovers in here. Melanie told Raven she likes her. Raven likes her too. Now Officer Vila and I are stuck in here with the love birds, and it’s awkward…

  She’s too busy for this. She deleted the paragraph and re-wrote: Still alive. Send cake.

  She hit send and scrolled through her phone, tapping on the photo gallery. The last picture she took filled her screen. Paul Rothman, entering his home.

  She turned to the woman. “Hey, not to interrupt, but since Melanie isn’t your stalker, what do you think the deal was with Paul Rothman?”

  “Who?” Vila asked.

  “I don’t even want to get into it,” Raven said.

  Melanie turned to Vila. “A guy Raven met who couldn’t take a hint.”

  “Ah.” He nodded and turned back to the window.

  “I guess he wasn’t,” Raven said. “I guess he really didn’t do anything to me at all, except for the weird dinner we had.”

  Madigan dug her camera out of her bag and flipped to the better picture she had taken of him walking to his door. “I guess I was the stalker.”

  “A stalker is someone who follows and harasses someone,” Vila said. “Did you harass him?”

  “No…”

  Melanie held her hand out, and Madigan passed her the camera.

  “Oh,” Madigan added, “but maybe kind of. I left him a single rose on his lunch table while I followed him in Newport.”

  “Really?” Raven asked and leaned over Melanie’s shoulder.

  “Yeah. I was trying to get a reaction from him, since he left you the dried ro—”

  A crashing noise came from the parking lot, and they all turned to the window. Madigan rushed up beside Vila, but he held his arm out.

  “Keep away from the window.” He grabbed his radio. “Send a unit to Whitestone Lodge. Possible car theft in progress—”

  Another crash came from the same direction.

  Shattered glass.

  Vila walked to the door and put his eye in front of the peep hole.

  “You’re not going out there, are you?” Madigan asked.

  “No. Back up is on the way.”

  Madigan leaned over and peered out the window into the foggy lot. “I can’t see anything.”

  Vila pulled the curtains across the windows, one after the other, and she turned back to Raven. She sat, holding the camera, frowning at it.

  “What?” Madigan asked.

  Vila drew his gun. “Get behind the bed there,” he hissed.

  They each took one of Raven’s hands and helped her across the room, behind the second bed. Raven huffed, taking deep breaths, and turned to Madigan. “The man… in the picture. That’s not… Paul Rothman.”

  “Stay down,” Vila said in a low voice and peeked through the curtain.

  Another loud crash exploded, and Vila dropped to the ground.

  Forty-Five

  Malone swept across the front lawn to the garage and handed Grace a key. “Jerry and Danny both keep spares for each other,” he whispered. “I called for back up.”

  We’re half an hour away from the department.

  “We don’t wait,” she whispered.

  He nodded.

  They kept close to the side of the house as they rounded the corner to the front door. Grace twisted the key into the keyhole and pushed the door open with a sharp creaking noise. She cringed, holding the knob and slipping through the crack. Malone followed behind her, and they both removed their guns as their eyes adjusted to the lack of light.

  A moan came from below, and Malone pointed to the floor.

  That’s the noise he heard.

  She nodded to a door at the end of the hallway, and he followed, creeping behind her as a muffled voice got louder.

  “…know she lies.”

  They reached the door, and Malone stood on the other side of the hallway as they listened.

  “I didn’t!” a low voice cried out.

  A small, glowing light from an appliance in the kitchen caught her eye, illumi
nating a folder on the kitchen table. She swept across the floor toward it, simultaneously listening for more noises below.

  She opened the folder and recognized all the same papers Donelle’s file contained.

  He signed out the files, made copies, and more notes…

  She scanned the handwritten notes made beside two names, Tyler Gibbons and Roger Ellis.

  Spoke to Gibbons re: Donelle’s withdrawal from group weeks B.D.

  Ellis only person she specifically stayed away from. Gibbons said she asked if Ellis would be at events, and when he said yes, she wouldn’t come. Gibbons confronted Ellis, and he denied any wrongdoing. Gibbons let it go, trusts Ellis.

  Spoke to Ellis re: Gibbon’s statement.

  Ellis denies conflict re: Donelle. Ellis said he didn’t care for her one way or the other like the rest did.

  Ellis said he doesn’t know why Donelle would have avoided him.

  “Psst.”

  Grace turned back to Malone, and he pointed to the knob. She crept back to the door and reached for the handle as someone below grunted and Malone nodded. She twisted it, pulling the door open, and stepped back as he stepped forward, aiming the gun down the stairs.

  “This is your last chance. How did you know?” Roger’s voice held tension and anger.

  Grace stepped into the doorway with her gun drawn. The wooden steps led to darkness.

  “I’m telling you, I didn’t! No one knew!”

  “You didn’t write it down, but I know you know. You don’t need to protect them anymore! They’re all dead!”

  “No,” the deep voice grunted. “No.”

  A quick flash of light illuminated the basement and the side of the stairway.

  The view’s wide open leading down to the basement. As soon as we go down, he’ll see us.

  The deep voice moaned again, and a scuffling sound followed. Malone turned to her, searching her face for direction.

  “You know, they saved me some time,” Roger said. “I don’t have to make this look like an accident anymore. No one’s going to know what happened to you. Your family will never find your body unless you tell me who—else—knows?” he screamed at him.

  “Why do you care,” the man mumbled, “when they’re all dead, anyway, right?”

 

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