A Killer's Watch

by Tallulah Grace

  “I picked up his truck getting on Seventy-Five North at eleven-fifteen. I’ve got him exiting the freeway just over the Nebraska border, heading toward a town called Edgemont. I’m still looking, but I thought you’d like to know where to start the search.”

  “Thanks, Dylan. Could you see another person in the truck?” Jeri asked.

  “Hi, Jeri, no. He was riding solo. But the truck has a metal cover over the bed. He could easily hide a person in there.”

  “Good to know. Keep at it, thanks.”

  Ethan and Jeri walked quickly to the house. Jeri called Chloe, while Ethan called Anna. Both completed their calls before entering the house.

  “Anna is narrowing the property search to Edgemont and the surrounding area,” Ethan told Jeri.

  “Chloe and Monique are going to the Grant estate. Chloe said that Monique is doing much better, after a couple hours rest.”

  “I’m surprised she agreed to stay down that long,” Ethan grinned at Jeri. “The only other person I know who is more stubborn than Monique is you.”

  “I’ll ignore that remark for now, we’ve got too much to do.” Jeri flicked him on the shoulder on the way inside.

  “Lucky me,” Ethan stepped up beside her to open the door. “What do you want to tell Joe Watson about the reason we’re leaving?’

  “The truth, that we’re pursuing a lead. Nothing more.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Mrs. Grant is resting. She asked not to be disturbed.”

  The housekeeper had no intention of letting them inside the house; that much was clear.

  “We’d like to see Mr. Grant. Is he available?” Chloe asked, her voice a mixture of authority, and polite inquiry.

  “He’s not here. Left early this morning, don’t know when he’ll be back.” Maria’s face changed slightly when she spoke of Graham Grant. It was instantly apparent that she was not fond of her employer.

  “Maria, who is it?” Belinda Grant called from the parlor. The breach of protocol was completely unlike her, but she had not been herself since the whole Thomas debacle began.

  “It’s those FBI ladies,” Maria called back in a move that likely had Thomas rolling over in his watery grave.

  “Bring them to me,” Belinda replied, her voice tapering off at the end.

  “Come on in, then,” Maria stepped aside, allowing Monique and Chloe to enter. “She’s in there.” Pointing to the parlor, Maria left them to find Belinda on their own.

  “We’re sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Grant,” Chloe began, opening the tall wooden doors.

  The room was surprisingly dark. All of the blinds were closed, and the lamps were turned off. Belinda sat in her usual chair, a thin, pink throw covering her legs. She looked terrible.

  “Mrs. Grant, are you okay? Pardon me for saying so, but you don’t look well.” Monique’s face was a mask of concern as she walked quickly to the elderly woman’s side.

  “Everything is taking a toll, I’m afraid.” Belinda looked up at Monique, dark circles ringing both of her eyes.

  “Of course it is,” Monique patted the woman’s hand, surprised by how cold she felt. Without asking, she placed her fingers over Belinda’s wrist. Her pulse was thready at best.

  “Chloe, turn on the lamp, please,” Monique asked, needing a better look at Graham’s mother.

  “No, no light. I can’t stand it,” Belinda squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Okay, okay, no light,” Monique appeased her. “Mrs. Grant, I believe that you need medical attention. We’re going to call for an ambulance.”

  “No, please. Call my doctor, if you must. He’ll come to the house. No hospitals.” Belinda did not open her eyes, and her voice was becoming weaker.

  “Who is your doctor?” Chloe asked, sliding an ottoman over to Monique, so she could sit.

  “James Carmichael, his number is by the phone,” Belinda tried to point, but her hand barely moved.

  “I’m on it,” Chloe told Monique.

  Lowering herself to the ottoman, gratefully, Monique spoke softly to Belinda Grant. “Mrs. Grant, have you eaten anything today?”

  “No. I have no appetite.” Her reply was barely a whisper.

  “Did you drink anything?”

  “Tea. Graham made it, before he left.”

  Suddenly suspicious, Monique tried to look into Belinda’s eyes, but they were still closed tight.

  “Would you like to lie down, Mrs. Grant? We can help you to the sofa.”

  “That would be lovely, dear. You’re very kind. I’d like to introduce you to my son. He’s a wonderful boy.”

  Chloe came over then, saving Monique from a reply.

  “The doctor is on the way,” Chloe told them, surprised at his willingness to drop everything, and make a house call on a Saturday.

  “Good, help me get her to the sofa.” Monique stood, then immediately sat back down. “On second thought, can you do it?”

  “No problem.”

  ~~~

  Graham stood near the doorway, admiring his handiwork in what he affectionately thought of as his playroom. Everything had a place, from the bleach lining the back wall, to the variety of blades, carefully arranged by size, on the shelf nearest the table.

  The rolling cart adjacent to the table held his most favorite tools: a scalpel, a lancet, and a catling. He had yet to use the catling, but he’d decided to keep a small piece of Aubrey, when all was said and done, so it would come in handy down the road. For now, he liked the way it looked on the tray.

  Aubrey should be waking soon, he reminded himself.

  “I should really go and keep her company. I’m sure she has a million questions.” Laughing softly, he closed the door on the pristine torture chamber.

  ~~~

  Trying to remain conscious had proven too much for Aubrey. She’d succumbed to a deep sleep, after her first fearful awakening.

  Horrifying dreams of eyes, peering at her in the dark, kept her body twitching, even though she slept like the dead.

  Graham stood in the doorway watching her try to toss and turn, with no success. He liked the way she moved, reveled in finally seeing her naked before him. The summer they were together, she had never let him touch her, but now she was his for the taking.

  After pulling a chintz-covered chair close to the bed, Graham reached into his pocket for a cigar. He was not particularly fond of them, but he knew for a fact that Aubrey hated the smell of cigar smoke. Snipping the end, he smiled slightly as he imagined her discomfort. A little smoke was nothing, really, compared to being tied to a bed, sans clothing. But it was one more way he could control her environment, and her emotions.

  ~~~

  Aubrey began to cough, even before she awoke. Something noxious had infiltrated her nightmares, dragging her from the intense fear that permeated her very soul.

  She tried to brush the smell away, but her hands would not move properly. The stench was so invasive, so repugnant, that she could barely take a breath.

  In a rush, the memory of being kidnapped, of being trapped by shackles, so heavy that she could barely move, filled her mind. Opening her eyes, she sensed, rather than saw, someone else in the room.

  The smoke, with a sickeningly sweet odor, hung thick over the bed. She could see the outline of a man, sitting in the chair beside her, but she couldn’t see his face.

  “Who… are… you?” she asked, coughing after each word.

  “Why, Aubrey, I’m crushed that you don’t remember me,” Graham replied, his voice pleasant.

  “Can’t…see…” she began, but a coughing fit overtook her.

  “Oh, my. I’m so sorry. Does the smoke bother you? I’ll put it out,” Graham’s tone was heavy with sympathy, but he made no move to extinguish the cigar. Instead, he blew another stream of smoke, directly at her head.

  Aubrey closed her eyes, turning her face away from the offensive fumes.

  Graham chuckled, then tamped the cigar out in an ashtray beside the bed. It was the most effective way
to ensure that the foul odor remained.

  “There you go, it’s out. I’d open a window for you, but there isn’t one.” Chuckling again, Graham leaned back in the chair, and crossed his legs. He had all the time in the world to spend with Aubrey. He planned to enjoy every second.

  “Who are you?” Aubrey asked again, once the smoke began to clear, and she could speak.

  “I didn’t imagine that I had changed that much. You certainly haven’t. You are as lovely now, perhaps more so, than you were then.”

  Blinking to try and see through the remaining haze, Aubrey met his eyes. Time had crinkled the edges, but their deep brown emptiness was something she’d never forgotten.

  “Graham!” Her voice held fear, along with disbelief.

  “Hello, Aubrey. It’s been a long time.” Graham spoke as if they’d met by chance on the street, not like the man who had chained her to a bed.

  “Why are you doing this?” If possible, Aubrey felt even more exposed, knowing that Graham Grant was the man responsible. She had cared for him once, when she was young, and stupid. Then she’d learned to fear him. The polite, well-bred boy had turned into a jealous monster as soon as she told him she wasn’t interested.

  “Why do you think? I’ve missed you, Aubrey. Haven’t you missed me, just a little?” Graham was enjoying himself immensely. Aubrey’s obvious fear made him stronger, made him want her all the more.

  Aubrey considered her words carefully. She’d already decided to try and befriend the man who had taken her, but could she do it, now that the man was Graham?

  He’d terrorized her for months, after she broke up with him. Phone calls, visits to her home, spying on her from his car, parked across the street. He’d even followed her when she went on dates, sat behind them at the movies, in the next booth at the diner. For a time, he’d been everywhere, lurking, always watching.

  It was his intensity that caused her to break up with him in the first place. Even at sixteen, she knew that his interest in her was much too concentrated. He wanted to spend every waking moment with her, spoke of taking her away, somewhere where no one else could find them.

  Had he finally done it? Where were they now?

  “My life has changed a lot since then, Graham.” Deciding to avoid his question, Aubrey tried to hide the fear she felt. If she had a prayer of getting out of here, she would have to convince him to remove the chains.

  “Yes, I know,” Graham smiled, settling in for a conversation. “Your husband’s name is Joe, much too common, don’t you think? You have two children, Jessica is eleven; she’s very cute, by the way. Reminds me of you. And Jason is eight, soon to be nine. You work as an administrative assistant in a clinic, three days a week. You volunteer away your free time, and you spend most evenings watching television with your pathetic husband.” Graham took a breath. “Does that about cover it?”

  “I have a wonderful life,” Aubrey defended what he’d made sound trite and meaningless.

  “It amazes me that you think so,” Graham shook his head. “Why don’t we check in with the family, see how everyone is doing.”

  Picking up a remote from the side table, Graham pressed the oversized television into life.

  Aubrey’s gasp was audible as she saw her own living room, filled with members of her family, and close friends. Joe sat on the sofa, next to her mother, his arm around her. It was obvious that they’d both been crying, her mother still dabbed at her eyes.

  Jessie and Jason were not present, for that Aubrey was grateful. She hated to think about what her disappearance would do to them.

  “How is this possible?”

  “Isn’t technology remarkable? With a few keystrokes, I have a front row seat to your entire world. Now, you do, too.”

  “You’ve been watching us?” Aubrey was beyond flabbergasted. Who would do such a thing?

  “Of course. I’ve been keeping up with you for years, sweet Aubrey. Ever since you turned me away. Nasty piece of business, that. Was it really necessary to involve the police? My family found it most embarrassing.”

  “What did you expect me to do, Graham? You refused to leave me alone. That’s all I wanted, for you to go away. But you wouldn’t.”

  “I never did,” Graham responded with a smile.

  “What are we doing here, Graham?” Aubrey decided to change her strategy. “I knew you were obsessive, but I never pegged you for a pervert.”

  “Ah, your words wound me, my dear. Is it perverted to spend time with the woman you love? Is it perverted to arrange surprises for her? I’ve given you everything you need to be comfortable here. I’ve even provided a way for you to watch your loved ones.”

  “When a man loves a woman, he doesn’t shackle her to the bed against her will. And I’d like to put some clothes on, Graham. Haven’t you gotten enough of a thrill already?”

  “Fair points, my sweet. I may remove the shackles, in time. Once you understand our situation. As for the clothing, I will never tire of seeing you this way, but I can imagine how uncomfortable you must be.” Graham purposefully ran his gaze along Aubrey’s body.

  Aubrey made herself lie still, even though every instinct she had screamed for her to cover herself. If only she could. Graham was enjoying her discomfort too much. She had to rise above it.

  “Like I said, pervert.”

  “Are you ashamed of your body, Aubrey? Most women your age would relish knowing that the man in their life appreciated their physicality. I can assure you, you are still quite lovely.”

  “You never answered my question. What are we doing here? Why did you kidnap me, after all these years?”

  “Aubrey,” Graham chided. “Surely you realize why you’re here, I mean, isn’t it obvious? As for kidnapping you, I did no such thing. I simply brought you home.”

  ~~~

  “Anna can’t find a match in the property ownership records to any of Grant’s known companies. I’m telling her to compile the records of all properties in the county sitting on at least two acres, sold within the last six months,” Jeri explained as she texted.

  “Specify single family homes, we don’t need to chase down a list of duplexes or condos,” Ethan added.

  “I think she knows that, but okay,” Jeri continued to type.

  “You’re right, she knows that. I’m just frustrated. In this age of cameras recording our every move, how does a truck disappear? Dylan can’t find a trace of him anywhere, after he left the highway.”

  “For one thing, remember where we are. Citizens in rural Nebraska still have a semblance of privacy, I guess.” Jeri placed her phone on the seat beside them. “The fact that he didn’t drive through a town, somewhere with surveillance cameras, tells us something. He’s hiding in the country. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s somewhere with the creature comforts he’s accustomed to, not in some underground hole.”

  “I agree with that. He’s much too spoiled by the finer things to go without them for too long. Wherever he’s hiding, it won’t be a shack.”

  “Nope, though I doubt that he’ll have a household staff. People in the country talk to each other. There’s too big of a chance that he’ll be found out. On the other hand, I can’t see Graham Grant preparing his own meals, or washing his own clothes. He’s either holed up somewhere with a setup similar to his home, with Aubrey in a cellar, out of sight. Or he’s not planning on keeping her for long. Either way, you can bet that he’s found someplace private.”

  “Unless he’s planning for Aubrey to take care of him,” Ethan looked at Jeri sideways as he drove.

  Jeri considered the concept, then nodded.

  “It wouldn’t be the first time that a hostage kept house for her abductor. And it fits Grant’s psychopathy. He’s been obsessed with Aubrey for years, it stands to reason that he’d like to keep her around awhile, before killing her.”

  “But is he arrogant enough to keep her hostage in plain sight? You said it yourself, he’s in the country, a place where neighbors talk, but they also d
rop in on the new guy. Anyone could come by, see Aubrey, if he’s keeping her as his housekeeper, as well as his hostage.”

  “Graham Grant has enough arrogance to believe he can do anything. He also believes that he’s smarter than everyone, so if this is his plan, then he has a strategy in place for security.” Jeri reached for her phone when it buzzed. “It’s the list from Anna. Damn, who knew there would be so many property sales in one county?”

  “Proof that the economy is getting better,” Ethan said wryly. “Let’s start with the largest properties first.”

  “We also need Chloe and Monique helping. I’ll give them a call.”

  ~~~

  “Is there any evidence that she’s been drugged?” Monique asked the doctor quietly.

  “Her pupils are dilated, but until I get the labs, I can’t say for sure. She’s lucky you two noticed her condition. I’ve called for an ambulance. I want her in a hospital for tests and observation.”

  “She won’t like that,” Chloe said, coming up behind them. “She’s ordered me to take her to her room three times in the last five minutes.”

  “I’ll handle her, don’t worry. If there is somewhere else you need to be, don’t let us keep you. Mrs. Grant is in good hands, I assure you.”

  “As a matter of fact, there is,” Chloe took Monique’s arm. “Thank you, Doctor. Will you let us know if you suspect foul play?”

  “I’ll notify the police, yes.”

  “Thanks.”

  Chloe waited as Monique said goodbye to Belinda Grant. She told her about Jeri’s message as they walked to the car.

  “What else did the text say?” Monique asked, unconsciously rubbing her head.

  “Just that we should get somewhere private and call her.” Chloe noticed the gesture. “Are you okay? How is your head?”

  “It hurts, thanks. But I’m fine. I’ll take some ibuprofen. I wonder what’s up.”

  “One way to find out,” Chloe said, opening the car door. “I hope they have a lead on Grant. I feel responsible for letting him get away.”