EVERY BREATH YOU TAKE

by Debby Conrad

  Sara’s gaze flittered nervously around the tiny room, skipping over the handful of customers. In the six years Hollin had known Sara, she’d only spoken to the woman half a dozen times or so. She barely knew her, but had always thought she was nice. Quiet, a little unpoised, but certainly pleasant enough. But until seeing her at the funeral, and then this morning, Hollin had never noticed how jittery and uneasy she was.

  Hollin lifted her mug to her lips and took a sip of the hot liquid. It assaulted her empty stomach as if she’d just swallowed drain cleaner. Maybe she should have ordered a cup of herbal tea instead. She set the cup on the black lacquer table. “I was sorry to hear about Brad’s and your divorce. But just because we’re no longer sister-in-laws doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

  Sara blinked as if confused. “I assumed you and the rest of your family hated me.”

  Sara’s comment came as a surprise. “Why would we hate you?”

  Sara averted her gaze and looked out the window. “I don’t know. But Brad made it sound as if you did.”

  Hollin studied her ex-sister-in-law. She was dressed in jeans, sneakers and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Unlike the first time Hollin had met her, when her hair was shoulder length and she wore more feminine clothing.

  But because her style had changed, and because she had divorced Brad, weren’t any reasons for Hollin, or anyone else in her family, to dislike Sara. “I apologize for whatever my brother could possibly have said to make you think something like that. But I assure you, nothing could be further from the truth.”

  Sara finally looked at her. Her blue eyes glistened with unshed tears. “You don’t think I’m a freak?”

  “A freak? No, of course not. Why would I think that?”

  Her gaze shifted again, then came back to Hollin. “Because I’m . . . gay.”

  Hollin was stunned at first. How could Sara be gay? She’d been married to Brad for four years. “I didn’t know.” She frowned, trying to think how that was possible. “Are you sure?”

  Sara laughed. “What else could it be? I shudder at the thought of any man touching me. I know he’s your brother, and I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but I couldn’t stand for Brad to touch me. And besides, I met someone. A woman.” She smiled sincerely. “I’m definitely gay.”

  “And you think my family hates you because of that?”

  Shaking her head, Sara said, “I don’t know what to think anymore. All I know is that Rachel snubbed me once while Brad and I were separated. And when I mentioned it to Brad he said Rachel didn’t have much use for me.”

  “I’m sorry, but Rachel doesn’t have much use for anyone these days, including me.” Or her own daughter, she wanted to add, but didn’t. “Well, I’m glad you told me, and I don’t see what difference it will make.” She reached across the table and laid a hand across Sara’s forearm. “I’d still like for you to be my friend.”

  ‘Thank you, Hollin.” She glanced at the chunky wrist watch on her arm. “Oh, I have to go.” Leaning over, she grabbed her backpack and unzipped it. “I have some money in here somewhere.”

  “My treat, I insist.” Hollin put a few dollars on the table and stood.

  Sara scraped her chair back noisily and together they walked to the door. Just as they stepped outside into the warm sunshine, Hollin came face to face with Neil Thorpe.

  “Hi, Professor Thorpe,” Sara said with enthusiasm, then turned to Hollin. “I really have to run. Thanks. For everything.”

  Hollin opened her mouth to say something, but it was too late. Sara had already disappeared around the corner.

  “Hello, Hollin.” Neil looked hopeful as he stared down at her. The wind lifted a chunk of his blond hair.

  “Hello.” Her tone was clipped. She went to step around him, but Neil was faster, blocking her way. “Excuse me,” she said, without bothering to hide her irritation. Pulling her blazer together, she buttoned it at the waist and tried to step around him again.

  “Wait,” he said, placing a hand on her arm. “I really want to talk with you.”

  “I’m sorry. I need to get to work.” She shook her arm free.

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. How could you have gone to work for him, Hollin? And after what he did to you? Griffin Wells is an animal.”

  Hollin refused to listen. “I really have to go.” Barely paying any attention to traffic, she darted across the street. A loud horn blared, scaring her half to death, but not nearly as much as when she’d looked up and seen Neil standing on the sidewalk. Quickly, she climbed inside her car and locked the doors behind her.

  Neil stood in front of the Coffee Clutch staring at her as if she was crazy, and Hollin found herself staring back at him through the windshield. Although her heart raced, her breath came in short pants, and her palms grew clammy, she refused to look away.

  “Was it you, Neil?” she whispered. “Was it you who hurt me that night?” She kept her gaze locked on him until he finally turned his back and disappeared inside the coffee shop.

  #

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” Griffin asked Hollin for the second time that morning. They were in his office, behind closed doors, discussing the condo project. Or at least they were supposed to be discussing it.

  “I’m fine,” she insisted, uncrossing her legs then crossing them again.

  But Griffin didn’t believe her. She wasn’t herself, and her mind definitely wasn’t on the project. He’d repeated himself numerous times in the thirty minutes since she arrived, watching as she buttoned and unbuttoned the blue corduroy blazer she wore more than a dozen times.

  Pushing his chair back, he stood and walked around the desk to stand in front of her. He leaned his hip against the edge of the desk, and crossed one foot over the other. He kept his focus on her eyes. “Is this about yesterday afternoon? Did I say or do something to upset you?”

  “No. Yesterday was . . .”

  “Pretty spectacular,” he finished for her with a smug grin. Visions of her naked and riding him came to mind.

  She blushed and pushed a lock of hair behind her ears. “Yes, it was. I never did thank you.”

  Hollin amazed him. “You don’t have to thank me. It’s me who should be thanking you. Your trusting me meant more than you can imagine.”

  She averted her gaze and looked at the legal pad in her lap.

  Griffin sighed with impatience. “What is it?”

  Glancing up, she said, “Nothing. Can we please get back to work?”

  “Not until you tell me why you’re so jittery this morning. And don’t tell me it’s because you had too much coffee. I didn’t believe you ten minutes ago, and I’m not going to believe you now.”

  She ran her tongue across her top lip. “If you must know, I ran into someone this morning that I’m not particularly fond of.”

  “Who is he?”

  “I didn’t say it was a he.”

  “You didn’t have to. Who is this guy?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Hollin,” he said, giving her a stern look as he pushed away from the desk and stood towering over her.

  She swallowed. “You probably don’t even know him. He’s someone I went to high school with. He keeps popping up around me.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Neil Thorpe. He’s a professor at the community college.”

  Griffin thought for a moment, trying to place the name with a face. “Skinny guy? Blond hair?”

  Hollin nodded. “He makes me uncomfortable.”

  Griffin noticed the way she twisted her hands in her lap. “How?”

  “It’s hard to explain.”

  “You said he keeps popping up around you. What does that mean exactly?”

  “He came to see me a few times, at the house, and this morning I bumped into him on the street.”

  “That’s it?”

  She shrugged, and nodded. But there was more. He was sure of it.

  “What else?”

  She
raised an eyebrow. “I think he likes me.”

  Griffin walked back around the desk and sat down as he tried to read her mind. “You think he likes you. You mean you think he might be obsessed with you.”

  Frowning, she said, “Yes.”

  He studied her for a moment longer. Her eyes conveyed the misery and vulnerability within her. “There’s something else,” he surmised.

  She licked her top lip again, her tongue just missing the tiny mole. “I have a feeling he’s been following me.”

  Anger singed the edges of his control. He wanted to hurt this guy for frightening Hollin the way he had. “I’ll have a talk with him.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “I don’t know if that would be such a good idea. Maybe I’m overreacting.”

  He forced himself to temper his fury. “I’ll still have a talk with him.”

  “Griffin, promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

  He laughed. “Stupid’s my middle name.”

  She glared at him. “That’s not funny. You know what I mean. Neil isn’t like you. He’s . . .” She paused for a moment as if trying to pick the right word or phrase to describe the man. “He’s docile.”

  “Docile?”

  “Yes. You know, timid, meek.”

  “I know what docile means, Hollin. Just because I didn’t finish school doesn’t mean I’m ignorant.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply--”

  He waved a hand, cutting her off. “I’m going to have a talk with Mr. Docile, Timid and Meek. And believe me, when I get through with him he’ll never so much as look your way again.”

  And if he found out that Thorpe was the one who had raped Hollin, he would hate to think what he might do to the guy. Hurting him wouldn’t be enough. That he was certain of.

  #

  Except for the tall pole lights in the parking lot, it was dark at ten after nine, and he knew she’d be done working any minute now. He watched with anticipation as the girl came out of the mall and went in search of her car.

  She was dressed in cheap clothing, a tight skirt and low-cut top, probably bought at the store where she worked. The sign at the entrance boasted everything was ten dollars or less. He shook his head in disgust. Why anyone would want to wear such tacky stuff was beyond him.

  Her skinny legs were bare, her feet sporting boxy looking shoes that were supposed to be trendy but only looked hideous on her.

  The surprise on her face when she saw him standing in front of her rusty Toyota was indescribable. Like he was some kind of god. Or her hero maybe.

  “Greg!” she squealed, and ran her fake fingernails through her bleached blond curls, fluffing them. As if it would help her appearance somehow. Her makeup had all but faded. “Where have you been? I thought I was never going to see you again.”

  “My wife knows about us, Mandy. She knows I’m in love with you, but she refuses to give me a divorce until after the baby is born.”

  She stared at him open mouthed, and he thought for a moment he’d gotten her name wrong. Then she threw herself in his arms and held on. The scent of her dime store perfume was nauseating him, and he turned his head slightly to avoid smelling it.

  “I don’t care that she knows. I love you, and you love me. That’s all that matters.”

  A Hallmark moment for sure. He rolled his eyes.

  She was so sincere, he almost laughed. What a stupid, little twit she was.

  They’d met in this same parking lot a few months ago. Ross Park Mall was about an hour south of Whisper Lake. A sure bet no one would know him here. He’d seen her park her car and walk inside the mall. After slashing her tire, he’d waited and waited. He’d been about to give up on her until she finally came out more than four hours later. How was he supposed to know she worked there?

  She’d been distressed seeing the flat tire and was about to call her mother to come and get her when he came to the rescue. He changed her tire for her, ruining his slacks on the wet slushy pavement. Afterward, she was so grateful, she agreed to join him for coffee.

  He spent the entire hour telling her lies. How he was a plastic surgeon, that his wife was pregnant. That she refused to have sex with him any longer, and had only married him for his money.

  He’d also told Mandy how beautiful she was, how he would do anything to spend time with someone real, like her, who appreciated him.

  She’d giggled and blushed, and he’d felt like gagging the whole time. But she’d bought his lies, every last one of them. At the end of the evening, she’d offered to give him a blow job for his troubles. What a whore. She didn’t even ask him to wear a condom.

  He’d watched that blond head bobbing up and down on his cock, the whole while pretending she was Hollin. Right before he came, he withdrew and deliberately ejaculated in the girl’s face. He’d apologized, saying it was an accident, and she’d evidently believed him because she gave him her cell phone number and begged him to call her.

  He’d seen her a few times since then, had used her and fucked her. When he’d grown tired of her, he’d disappeared. He hadn’t planned on seeing her again.

  But after watching Hollin with Wells yesterday afternoon, he knew he had to kill Hollin for what she’d done. And what better way to practice than on Mandy.

  He’d never killed before and he was a little nervous. He had plenty of experience fucking women and girls, beating them, too. The ones who deserved it. And most of them fell into the latter category. He was beginning to think that the whole female species was nothing but a bunch of whores who deserved whatever they got.

  And just because a few of them had been virgins before he’d taken them didn’t mean they couldn’t be whores as well. Take Hollin for example. At fifteen she’d let her older sister influence her, had started to cheapen herself with garish makeup and tight clothing. That only said one thing about her, that she wanted to be fucked. And he’d been only too happy to oblige.

  He nudged the girl away from him and looked her in the eye. “I tried to stay away from you. I know this is wrong, but I just had to see you, Mandy.”

  She smiled, batting her eyelashes. “I want to see you, too, but I promised my mom I’d come straight home after work. It’s a school night.”

  He sighed. “I knew this would never work between us. You’re seventeen, too young to know what you want.”

  “No, you’re wrong,” she argued. “I know exactly what I want. I want you. I want to marry you.”

  “But your mother is still running your life.”

  A tortured look crossed her face, then she released a long breath. “Not anymore. I’ll go anywhere with you.”

  They left her car in the parking lot, and he drove them to a nearby motel. One they’d never used before. He signed the guest register card as Gregory Peck, and the stupid, pimple-faced kid behind the front desk didn’t so much as blink at the name. Too young to make the connection. Had probably never even heard of the actor.

  The room smelled of stale smoke and dirty feet. After setting his doctor bag on the dresser--anyone could buy a similar bag from a medical supply catalog--the first thing he did was yank the bedspread from the bed and throw it in a heap on the floor. The things were nasty and dirty. He knew what people did on them, and he was sure they weren’t laundered after every stay.

  “Take off your clothes,” he ordered when she picked up the remote control for the television.

  “Aren’t we going to talk first?”

  “About what?”

  “About our plans once your divorce is final.”

  “Later.”

  She stuck her bottom lip out, then reached for her top and pulled it over her head. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his oxford shirt and rolled them to the elbows, then grabbed a pair of surgical gloves from his bag and pushed his hands into them.

  “What are those for?”

  “You know how I like to try new things,” he said by way of explanation. “Remember the last time we were here?” He’d fucked her in the ass, in spite
of her protests and tears.

  “You promised you wouldn’t do that to me anymore, after last time. It hurt, remember?”

  He smiled. “It didn’t hurt me.”

  Her expression changed as if she’d been struck in the face. “But--”

  “Stop acting like a little girl, Mandy.”

  She sniffed back a tear. “I’m sorry. I’ll do anything, just not that.”

  “Don’t worry, I have something different in mind.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “What is it?”

  “Once you’re naked, I’ll tell you.”

  She sniffed again, and undid the front fastener on her bra. For someone so skinny, her tits were pretty big. At least a C cup. Not that he found that attractive in a woman. They looked like cow udders. He preferred small tits, like Hollin’s.

  Scooting off the bed, Mandy stood and shimmied out of her skirt and panties in one sweep. She stuck her arms out away from her sides to show off her scrawny body. “Did you miss me?”

  “Of course.” He walked toward her. The gloves felt good against his skin. Warm and smooth. He couldn’t wait to see Mandy’s reaction when he placed them around her neck and squeezed.

  Her eyes grew inquisitive. “So, now that I’m naked, Greg, are you going to tell me what it is you’re going to do with those gloves?”

  He pushed her tangle of curls away from her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You’re very special to me, Mandy. That’s why I want you to be my first.”

  She smiled nervously, looking up into his face. “Your first what?”

  “Murder victim,” he said, calm and collected.

  Backing up a step, a horrified look crossed her face. “You’re scaring me. I almost thought you were serious.”

  He chuckled, then frowned. “Oh, but I am serious. I’m going to strangle you. Not because you displeased me in any way, but because I need the practice.”

  She looked so stunned he wanted to laugh. She stood there, frozen in place, the terror stuck in her throat as she opened her mouth to scream. Nothing came out but a tiny little whimper.