by Sue Fortin
Ellen shrugged. ‘Could be anyone, I suppose.’
‘Like Toby?’
‘Like a client.’
Donovan perched on the end of the bed. ‘I’ve rung the police and spoken to Ken. As I thought, there’s nothing they can really do. Send someone out to take a statement and that’s about it. For now, he’s just going to make a note of it.’
‘My offer still stands,’ said Ellen softly, turning to face Donovan. His eyes met hers. ‘I’ll leave if you really think it’s to do with Toby.’
Donovan looked at her for a moment before standing up and walking over to her. He placed his hands on her shoulders. ‘Running away won’t solve it.’
‘But what about Izzy? You said you didn’t want to put her in danger.’
‘At the moment, I don’t see that Izzy is in any danger. Nothing has been directed at her. It seems to be one of us.’ He held her gaze. ‘Besides, if you were to go now, I’d worry about you. Like I said before, you need to face him. If, indeed, it is Toby.’
Ellen was fully aware of his hands on her shoulders. Strong and firm. Reassuring and safe. She hadn’t felt safe for a long time. ‘Thank you.’ Her voice was almost a whisper and when he pulled her in for a brief but comforting hug, anything else she wanted to say was lost in the fabric of his t-shirt.
A cough from the doorway sent Ellen reeling back from Donovan. She looked round and saw Carla standing there, her cold eyes taking on Antarctic temperatures. Ellen knew she had flushed red, but even the heat from her face was no match for the ice in Carla’s eyes.
‘There’s a phone call for you downstairs, Donovan.’ The words came out like the fall of an axe. Sharp and swift.
‘Thank you, Carla. I’ll be right down,’ said Donovan. He spoke to Ellen. ‘You look tired. Have a rest this afternoon. Izzy won’t be back until late.’
Ellen heard his feet make their way down the hallway before stopping and coming back. She looked up as he poked his head around the doorframe. ‘If you go out, be careful.’
Donovan knew he was playing with fire but something about Ellen had caught hold of him and his conscience couldn’t let her walk away. She needed to resolve this issue with her past. Only by doing that did she really have a future to look forward to. A future without having to look over her shoulder and without having to be scared. Never having to run away again.
Shit. Who was he trying to kid? That was not the reason he didn’t want her to go. He dropped the manila client file he had been looking through onto his desk. It was hard to concentrate. He kept revisiting the feel of her body against his as he had held her earlier when they were upstairs. His hands had taken on a life of their own and had roamed up and down Ellen’s back. Meant as a reassuring gesture originally, but concluded as a need to satisfy his desire to touch her. He was grateful when Carla had appeared and Ellen had pulled away first. He wasn’t quite sure what would have happened next. Would Ellen have rejected him? Or would she have welcomed him? He seemed to have lost his ability to analyse her as he would a client. Maybe because his own feelings and thoughts were settling in his mind like a mist he couldn’t see through.
He picked up the folder again and made an effort to refocus. He was going through his old cases, trying to work out if any of them had reason to hold a grudge against him. Did any of them fit the psychological profile he was building up?
Probably nonpsychotic. Possibly with a pre-existing disorder such as delusions or schizophrenia. He was going through his files, matching the diagnosis, reading the notes, trying to work out the probability of each person being the offender. So far this was quite an extensive list. His work with the police, together with the clients referred to him by the local health authority, were giving him countless possibilities.
He picked up his pen and notebook, writing down more categories. If this person was obsessing over himself or Ellen, then it could be influenced by factors such as anger, hostility, denial, jealousy. A rejected stalker; one that wanted to reverse, correct or avenge a rejection, well, Toby, of course, fitted the remit. Rejected Stalker turning into Predatory Stalker where the victim was spied on so an attack could be planned. This did happen. The thought spiked the sliver of fear that was lurking. It wasn’t looking good.
Chapter Nineteen
He followed her along the high street. She was totally unaware he was there. Her mobile phone was stuck to her ear like glue, her heels clicking on the pavement, she headed towards the car park, where he knew she had left her car earlier. He’d been following her since she had left the house that morning. This was the chance he’d been looking for. He needed her to get off the blasted phone. She was at her car now, rummaging in her bag for her keys.
He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out some loose change, pretending to sort through the coins. Looking up, he successfully made eye contact and schooling his face into a winning smile, he approached her.
‘I must go now. I’ll speak to you later.’ He heard her finish her call, her eyes on him.
‘Sorry to bother you, but do you have any change for the ticket machine?’ he said coming to a stop in front of her.
‘No, I don’t.’ A sharp reply with no return of the smile. She looked down at the coins in his hand. ‘Besides, you’ve plenty there.’
He withdrew his hand, letting the money slide back into his pocket. ‘You are, of course, right. It was a stupid and naïve ploy to speak to you.’
‘Look, I don’t know who you are or what you’re playing at but if you don’t turn around and walk away now, I’m going to scream blue murder.’
He had no doubt she was telling the truth. He’d seen her in action over the past few weeks when he had been monitoring the house.
‘Just listen for one moment. Then if you don’t like what I say, I promise I will leave you. It’s to do with a certain criminal psychologist and a nanny.’
A little flicker of surprise, or maybe interest, made a fleeting appearance on her face, then quickly disappeared. She neither said anything nor screamed. He took this as consent.
‘It would seem we have a mutual interest in the aforementioned. Not so much an interest, more of a problem. I’m sure we can work together to redress the balance.’
She narrowed her eyes but he could see the spark of intrigue there. ‘Go on,’ she said.
‘Shall we discuss this over a coffee in town?’
She looked at her car keys and back at him as she weighed up his suggestion. Then seemingly coming to a decision she opened her shoulder bag and dropped the keys inside.
‘Lead the way.’
Amanda seemed to have accepted Ellen being Izzy’s new nanny. This was a relief to Donovan. Amanda in the past had been troublesome when it came to nannies. Maybe it was because Izzy was so happy with Ellen. The two had certainly forged a strong bond with each other.
It surprised him, therefore, when he received a call from Amanda towards the end of the following week.
‘I’ve had a chance to look into Ellen’s background now,’ she said, discarding the need for any small talk. Donovan was happy for it to be so. He always preferred direct talk.
‘And?’
‘And I don’t like what I have found out. Tell me, Donovan, exactly what checks did you make on her?’
Donovan didn’t like the tone of his wife’s voice. He was all too familiar with the vitriol that was lacing her words. She had knowledge he clearly didn’t have. She was at an advantage and he didn’t like it. ‘All her references checked out fine,’ he said.
‘Something Carla mentioned troubled me,’ said Amanda. ‘Apparently, there have been a few strange things happening since Ellen arrived.’
Donovan didn’t comment. He was irritated that Carla had spoken to Amanda and even more so that she had divulged information he considered didn’t have anything to do with his estranged wife.
‘Are you there, Donovan?’ Amanda’s voice pierced his thoughts.
‘Yes, I’m still here. You were saying …’
‘Sebastian hired a private investigator to find out more about Ellen. She changed her name from Helen Matthews to Ellen Newman six months ago. She used to live in London with her boyfriend who, apparently, has filed a missing persons report on his girlfriend Helen Matthews. The description is shoulder-length blonde hair. Five feet, seven inches. Slim build. Hazel eyes. The distinguishing feature is a small tattoo of a dragonfly on her left hip.’
‘I wouldn’t know anything about the dragonfly,’ commented Donovan. Although, he had to admit the idea was attractive. He’d like to inspect that tattoo. In detail.
‘So you haven’t screwed her yet?’ said Amanda. Donovan could almost taste the venom in her words. He didn’t reply immediately.
It really was an appealing thought. One he’d like to fulfil. He let a smile form briefly across his face before redressing her catty remark. ‘Don’t judge everyone by your own standards.’
Ouch. That was probably a bit uncalled for but it was a fact of their relationship that Amanda had slept with her personal trainer, Marco. That was before Sebastian had come on the scene. It pissed Donovan off to think about it because at the time of the Marco incident, he and Amanda had not officially separated. They had the following day, though. Donovan had made sure of that.
The feeling of betrayal, albeit of an already-dead marriage, had only been softened by the satisfying knowledge that Marco wasn’t the slightest bit interested in Amanda for anything other than the kudos of sleeping with yet another older and wealthy woman. In fact, Marco’s rejection of Amanda had almost evoked a feeling of sympathy towards her from Donovan. Almost.
‘You’re a bastard,’ spat back Amanda.
‘You are entitled to your opinion,’ replied Donovan. ‘Now, about Ellen. As I said before, her references check out fine. There’s nothing against the law to say that a person can’t change their name. You’ve seen how much Izzy enjoys Ellen’s company and how good Ellen is with our daughter. I really don’t think you have anything to worry about.’
‘She’s hiding something. Why would her boyfriend put in a report saying she is missing?’
‘Maybe she doesn’t want him to find her. Maybe she wants a new start. What is so wrong with that? Anyway, I thought you were pleased Izzy likes Ellen so much?’ Donovan tried to deflect the conversation away to another angle.
‘I have changed my mind,’ said Amanda. ‘I don’t like Isobel being so close to Ellen. I don’t think it is healthy. I don’t like it that dead rats are being put in the garden or that the school is getting phone calls. And you had a note.’
So, Amanda knew about the rats. He’d have to speak to Carla. This was most unlike her. He had never known her to be indiscreet. He would have bet his life that she wouldn’t divulge anything.
‘I promise you. Everything is fine. There is nothing for you to worry about.’
‘Well, I am not taking any chances. I want Isobel to live with me. I am going to apply for sole custody as soon as I can. You will be hearing from my solicitors.’
The line went dead. Donovan looked at his phone for a moment. Amanda sounded serious this time. Shit, he’d been hoping her threat of applying for custody was merely that; a threat, nothing more. It seemed he was wrong.
‘Carla!’ He shouted from his desk. He was aware it had come out as a bellow. He never bellowed at Carla. Checking himself, he got up to go and find her in the usual polite way. However, Carla appeared in front of him, clearly concerned at the way he had shouted.
‘Is everything all right, Donovan?’
He took a deep breath to control his feelings. ‘Did you tell Amanda anything about the note that came through the door or the rats on the patio?’
‘No, not at all. I would never divulge anything like that.’ She looked hurt.
‘Someone has told her,’ snapped Donovan, not quite managing to keep as good a control of his feelings as he wanted.
‘It’s certainly not me,’ said Carla. ‘You should know that you can trust me.’
‘It can only be Mrs Holloway then.’
‘Or maybe Izzy.’
‘She doesn’t know about the rats.’
‘Actually, she does.’
‘What?’
‘She saw them in the bucket before you got rid of them. Ellen told me. Apparently, they went into the garden to find things for a collage or something they were making and Izzy spotted the bucket. She was going to use it to collect everything in.’
‘Oh Christ,’ groaned Donovan. ‘What did Ellen tell her? Do you know?’
‘She just said they were found in the garden. Passed it off, I think, and left it at that. Izzy must have told Amanda herself.’
It sounded plausible. Donovan felt a sense of shame wash over him. ‘I’m sorry for shouting at you. I know how loyal you are and I really do appreciate it. Honestly.’ He patted the top of her arm and was immediately rewarded by a smile from his PA. Relieved to be forgiven and feeling embarrassed, he skulked back to his desk. He needed to find out more about Helen Matthews. He scrolled through the contact list on his phone. Finding the name he was looking for, he swiped the screen to make the call.
Ellen surveyed her purchases laid out on the kitchen table. A pumpkin, some child-friendly, pumpkin-cutting tools, a tea light for the inside and two witches outfits. One for Izzy and one for herself. Halloween was upon them. Izzy had been so excited when Ellen told them what they were going to do. It wasn’t until then Ellen realised Izzy had never done this sort of thing before.
Ellen checked her watch. She had time for a quick cup of tea before she had to leave to pick Izzy up from school. The house was very quiet. Mrs Holloway had already left, Wednesdays being her half days and Donovan was out at a meeting. Recently, if he was around, he had taken to coming on the school run with her; she wondered if she should hang on for him today. She’d ask Carla when he was expected back.
As Ellen neared the office door, she was surprised to hear Carla’s voice, raised and clearly annoyed.
‘Now, you listen to me. It’s my turn to talk. Be quiet for one minute!’
Ellen knew she should turn around and walk away, but she suddenly became conscious of her footsteps on the tiled floor. Now Carla had lowered her voice she’d surely hear Ellen and then, no doubt, accuse her of eavesdropping. Well, technically she was eavesdropping, only it was now unintentional. Carla’s voice was still agitated.
‘I can’t do everything on my own. It’s difficult for me. I don’t want to arouse any suspicion. We have a plan and need to stick to it… Yes, I know. She needs sorting out, I agree… you keep to your side of the deal and I’ll keep to mine. You just have to be patient… Yes. I’ll meet you later, as agreed. Please don’t phone me at work again. Goodbye.’
The clunk of the receiver being slammed back into its cradle made Ellen jump. She heard Carla’s chair wheels squeak as they rolled over the carpet and before Ellen had time to react, Carla was yanking open the door.
She looked startled to see Ellen there but was quick to regain her composure.
‘Is there something I can help you with, Ellen?’ Her voice was the epitome of politeness but her eyes told a different story.
Ellen gulped. ‘Do you know what time Donovan will be back?’
Carla appraised her for a moment. ‘No, I don’t. These networking meetings can run on for some time. Is there something urgent that I can help with?’
‘No, it’s fine.’
‘Good. Now, if you don’t mind I’ve got work to do and I’d rather you didn’t lurk outside my office door like some sort of spectre. I know it’s Halloween, but still.’
‘Let me do the cutting. I don’t want you chopping your fingers off,’ said Ellen. She turned the pumpkin onto its side and using the large carving knife, cut off the top.
‘I want to do something,’ said Izzy, a pout forming. She had been itching to carve the pumpkin ever since Ellen had picked her up from school that afternoon.
Ellen smiled brightly. ‘You can use that spoon to scoop ou
t the middle of the pumpkin. ‘We can make some soup out of it. Mrs Holloway showed me how. That will surprise her when she gets here in the morning.’
‘She’ll think you’re after her job.’
Ellen looked up as Donovan came into the kitchen. He’d been back from his networking meeting for about an hour but until now had been shut away in his office. It was nice to see him again, although annoying Mrs Holloway wasn’t such a nice thought. ‘Oh, do you think so? Maybe we shouldn’t then.’ The last thing she wanted to do was tread on Mrs Holloway’s toes.
‘I was only joking,’ said Donovan. He smiled at Ellen. ‘She will be delighted she’s passed her talents onto you.’ He ruffled Izzy’s hair. ‘You okay, angel?’
‘We’ve bought sweets for when the trick people come,’ said Izzy sliding some pumpkin off the spoon into a bowl.
‘Trick people?’
‘Trick-or-treaters, she means,’ said Ellen. ‘We’re not going out ourselves,’ she added sensing an unease from Donovan. ‘We’re going to wait for them to come here.’
‘We are going to put the pumpkin outside and then they know we have sweets,’ explained Izzy. ‘That’s what Ellen said she did used to do.’ She looked eagerly at Ellen. ‘And we are going to dress up too.’
‘Yes, we’re going to be witches,’ said Ellen. ‘We’ve got our costumes but you can’t see them until later.’
‘Witches, eh? I don’t think there were ever two people less like witches,’ said Donovan, placing his hand on Ellen’s shoulder. He smiled at her, a soft smile that made Ellen feel warm inside, then he kissed her on the cheek. The effect sent Ellen from warm to a temperature worthy of volcano status. She wanted to kiss him back but was well aware of Izzy standing next to them, watching the exchange.
Donovan didn’t move away immediately, he squeezed her shoulder. ‘Thank you.’ It was almost a whisper. Ellen frowned and shrugged. He nodded in Izzy’s direction. ‘You know … for this. It means a lot, to both of us.’
Ellen watched him walk over to the bifold doors and look out across the garden. It was getting dark already and dampness hung in the dreary sky. The trees were bare of their leaves and the borders were straggly and unattractive. Winter was definitely snapping at the heels of autumn. The sound of Donovan sighing brought her attention back to him. He appeared troubled. Ellen approached him.