The Woman In the Mirror: (A Psychological Suspense Novel) (Alexandra Mallory Book 1)

by Cathryn Grant

  55

  There was no doubt Noreen had issues, big issues, huge issues, possibly insurmountable issues. But the things Brian had inflicted on her made me think we couldn’t be talking about the same man. Joe is an insanely common name. It was absolutely believable that the Joe I’d had sex with was someone else. A casual acquaintance of hers. He could be Noreen’s brother — I’d never asked her brother’s name. A cousin, former co-workers, high school classmates, neighbors. Hell, maybe the Joe who captivated me was a friend of Brian’s.

  Beneath my surface attempt to rationalize, I heard my brain lying to itself, not wanting to face the horror that the same man could be a charming, teasing, expert lover, and a despot. He made Noreen a virtual slave, leaving her to clean up the mess of his mother’s life. Literally.

  No one but her ex would stake out her house with such care, watching, coming close enough to talk to a roommate lounging in the front yard, then pulling back. When I first saw him, I’d thought he could be Noreen’s twin. But it was something else. There was a similarity in their psyches — two people locked in a battle for their souls came to resemble each other. The fierce glaze in their eyes, the burning hatred for the other, transformed their mannerisms and facial expressions into mirror images.

  Only a lover bent on revenge — a man whose passion had turned to hatred — would have the tenacity to move in circles, ever closer, with such a willingness to wait for the right time. I knew deep inside this wasn’t a guy from her past who wanted to give her a pleasant surprise. It was a guy with a plan. It wasn’t a guy who wanted to remember old times, catch up on the details of her life. It was a guy on a mission.

  I was also on a mission. I had a plan.

  My plan formed itself around the newfound assumption that Noreen wasn’t completely unhinged. Her fear was based in truth — Brian wanted to avenge his mother. The holes drilled through Noreen’s eyes in the photograph were permanently lodged in my mind’s eye. Each time I recalled the image, I thought about how the removal of eyes turns a human being into a horrific monster. We proved that in childhood with our erasers. Removing the eyes lays waste to the entire face. It transforms a human being’s face to the world into a lifeless, disturbing, inhuman mask.

  I took the day off work and I didn’t bother faking illness. I told Tess I had personal business to deal with.

  Noreen had gone to work in her cornflower blue scrubs and white running shoes with touches of pink. Her hair was yanked back as she always wore it for work, tied in a ponytail and then braided. She didn’t mention the anniversary of Terry’s death. I’d expected her to plead with Jared or me to stay around, convinced Brian would arrive that evening. Maybe since I hadn’t mentioned plans to go out, she assumed I’d be there. Or, for all I knew, Brian had already contacted her and she was resigned to the inevitable. There were so many possibilities — he wasn’t coming after all, or she’d enlisted Jared as her body guard. She had a fair amount of guilt swimming around inside of her and despite the way she protested the things Brian had forced her to do for his mother, a deeper part of her believed she deserved whatever punishment he decided to deliver. She had issues.

  Or, she had a plan of her own. I thought of her favorite butcher knife, already utilized on the mirror and the door to my room.

  After Noreen left, I drove to the gym and completed a weight lifting circuit that took forty-five minutes. I drove home sweaty and changed into clean workout clothes. I chose black capri length spandex pants, a black sports bra, and a black t-shirt cropped to the bottom of my ribs. I took the house key off the ring and tucked it into the zipper pocket on the back of my pants. I did my hair in the same style Noreen had worn to work. I ate a turkey sandwich on rye bread with German mustard and lots of lettuce. I spent the early afternoon watching weight lifting technique videos, drinking water, and straightening my room. I wandered around the house and checked out the shed, where Brian’s things were packed as efficiently as Tetris blocks. I studied the eyeless photograph and ran my hand down the length of the hospital bed. I surveyed the collection of tools hanging near the front and made sure they were arranged on their proper hooks. I went through the house and onto the back deck, needlessly studying the layout.

  At three o’clock, I drove to the Safeway parking lot. Since the store was open twenty-four hours, no one would notice my car was parked there longer than it should be. A car had to sit there for days, gathering dead leaves and pine needles in the windshield wipers before anyone even thought of reporting it as abandoned.

  I ran two miles back home at an easy pace and reached the house well before Noreen was due home around five-thirty. Jared’s car wasn’t there. I put on a dark blue hoodie and went onto the back deck. I nestled myself in the corner behind the table and chairs. I leaned forward and dragged the table and chairs closer so my presence was less visible. I bent my knees and hugged my lower legs. It was possible I’d have to maintain the position for several hours, but there’s nothing like fury to provide superhuman control over your body.

  There were two gambles. One was that Noreen would notice the unlocked doors and expect to see someone on the deck. But it was equally possible she would be so agitated, she wouldn’t give it a second thought. The odds were much longer for the other gamble — if Brian came to the house looking to punish her on the day of Terry’s death, he might not choose the deck. But thinking about Terry, as well as the strange manner of his mother’s death, it was a highly probable educated guess that he would appear on the deck before he was finished.

  At first my body was a little warm, wrapped up in a thick sweatshirt with the sun casting its rays across the deck, drenching the back of the house in light. Once the sun dipped to the tree line on the far shore, the air grew cool fast. I hugged my knees tighter.

  From where I sat, I couldn’t see the water. To most people, the expanse of water was glorious while I had to put effort into not keeping my eyes on it for too long or it would sweep my thoughts toward the danger it posed. Most people longed to enjoy the view of the shimmering ocean, but the precarious nature of the structure chased them into the house, clinging to its solid concrete foundation. The weathered boards of the deck, the tree branch constantly knocking against the railing, and the knowledge there was nothing below terrified them. None of that bothered me. I have no fear of heights, no twisted desire to throw myself off cliffs or tall buildings like some people worry they might, as if it’s programmed into the depths of their minds. But the ocean is another matter.

  As I pulled on my hood, I heard Noreen’s Jetta purr into the driveway.

  The sounds of Noreen entering the house and moving about, presumably in her bedroom, changing clothes, weren’t audible from the deck. After a while, the kitchen light came on.

  I sat there for another half hour or so before I heard the rumble of Brian’s Boxster. The engine died. A car door opened and closed. Then, nothing.

  56

  Behind me, the house was eerily silent. I realized that below my conscious thoughts, I had heard the subtle sounds of Noreen moving around after all, possibly a door closing, a plate on the counter, a chair scraping the floor. Now, it was the silence of an abandoned building. Surely if Brian had done something to hurt her, I would have heard a scream, or some other, more shocking sound. The Boxster would have announced their departure if he’d taken her somewhere else.

  Another twenty minutes passed, maybe more.

  I waited.

  The French doors crashed open, each hitting the interior wall on either side of the alcove. Brian laughed. “You and that crazy fucking knife. You won’t do anything.”

  She had a plan after all. Instead of needing everyone to take care of her, she was up for defending herself. I felt a tremor of pride.

  Brian stepped out the door, stumbling slightly as he misjudged the lip between the alcove and the deck. He backed up toward the railing. “Bring it on!” He held up his left arm that had been blocked by his body from my line of sight. Wrapped in a coil from his t
humb and around his elbow was a white rope. “You’ll dangle over the side like Terry, kicking your legs into empty space. I only regret I can’t humiliate you with a ridiculous outfit first.” He folded his arms across his chest as if he wanted to protect the rope. “You’ll thrash around without anyone to help you, until you choke to death like my mother.”

  “I’m surprised your mother didn’t choke on her own vomit,” Noreen shouted. “That’s how she spent her time, right? I made delicious meals to entice her to eat and she gagged and spit it in my face.”

  “She was grieving.”

  “Oh, bullshit. She wanted to be skinny. Like me. She was jealous of me. She wished she could be young again. I felt it the whole time I lived in her cold, dead house.”

  “Stop talking shit about her!” His voice was loud and thick with rage. The deck seemed to vibrate in response.

  For the first time, I realized that if the entire deck went down, I would go with it. The base of the structure was relatively solid, though. All floorboards have some flex to them. I hoped my thoughts weren’t wishful thinking, lies to myself about the stability of the gradually falling house. The railing alone was meant to be weak. Brian alone was meant to fall to his death.

  His list of sins was short but grievous —

  Imprisoning his girlfriend to care for a woman whose frail body and diseased mind required a team of doctors and psychologists if she was to have any hope of a normal life.

  And leading me to believe he was a man who respected women. Hell, the guy didn’t even respect his own mother enough to buy her a bed that would keep her safe. He couldn’t be bothered to get her the help she needed. If anyone was to blame for her death, it was him.

  I don’t require a lot from a man I want to have sex with, but he better not be someone who thinks I exist solely for his pleasure. He better not be the kind of man who believes women are there to do the cooking and cleaning and laundry and give them the shivers.

  It was irritating to know he was better at the game than I was — adept at concealing his true nature.

  Noreen stepped out the door, the knife raised, like a warrior goddess. There was no way in hell that small, delicate Noreen was going to accomplish what she wanted to with that knife.

  She charged at Brian. He stepped toward her and grabbed her arm. There was a snapping sound and she screamed. She wriggled frantically but he held the arm with the knife immobilized. She kicked at his shins. He laughed and stepped to the side. The knife wobbled in her hand. Slowly, her fingers uncurled and it fell over the side of the deck. Screaming, she flung her entire body at him. He twisted slightly to the right and fell back against the railing. There was a crack, much louder than what had come from her arm as the force of his grip fractured the bone.

  The railing gave way and Brian fell, taking Noreen with him.

  A howl like the cry of a wild animal leaping at its prey drifted up as they plunged to the rocky cove below.

  My back and legs were thick with sweat, as if I’d been part of the struggle. I stood up and tore off my sweatshirt. My legs trembled. I turned and picked up the sledgehammer I’d used to damage the railing that afternoon. I carried it through the house and out to the shed where I hung it from the two prongs, perfectly spaced to hold the iron head.

  The only thing left to do was go through the things in her room to find Jared’s rental application. His would be filled with truthful information. I’d take mine as well, although it really didn’t matter.

  Entering Noreen’s room gave me pause. I hadn’t planned her death. I wanted to save her, but like she’d said, maybe it was too late. Maybe she preferred to be with Brian. I began opening drawers.

  57

  Jared had put down the deposit and first month’s rent on the cabin. He refused to believe Alex had been serious that she didn’t want to be his friend. Of course she did. The way her body responded to his touch screamed that she wanted him. She liked her space, that was all. He’d pushed too hard, and hadn’t made it clear that he had no expectations, for now. Once she saw that it would give them a tranquil environment where they could make love, free from Noreen’s watery eyes and pleading lips, Alex would be eager to move with him. Other than that, she could come and go as she pleased. They didn’t need to eat meals together or hang out in the evenings. Whatever she wanted.

  Once she was secure in her freedom, despite the small space, she would let go of her resistance and be drawn closer to him. She was like a wild animal. He needed to step back and let her approach him as her trust developed and she saw he didn’t pose a threat.

  It didn’t take him long to pack up his things. He didn’t have much. Noreen hadn’t been around all day, which helped him breathe a bit easier.

  As if he’d planned it, he was tucking in the last flap on the final box when Alex knocked on his door. He opened it. Her hair was brushed smooth and dark around her shoulders, reminding him of a cape. Her bangs were thick, combed over her eyebrows like she’d worn them the day he first saw her. There wasn’t a touch of makeup on her skin or color on her lips. She smiled and it was beautiful — natural and pure and hungry, for him.

  “I changed my mind.” Her voice was soft. “It’s not too late, is it?”

  “For what?” His heart thudded against bone and his ribs ached. Following his instinct was satisfying. He’d known she wanted him to take control, to recognize her need for space. He wasn’t obliged to explicitly tell her she’d have all the freedom she wanted in the tiny cabin. Simply steering a wide path around her for the past few days had been enough.

  “The cabin you found is charming. And not too far from my office. Lots of roads and trails for running.”

  Charming didn’t seem to fit her, but there was so much more to her that he needed to learn. He swallowed the grin trying to force its way onto his lips. He wouldn’t be giddy, over-excited. He’d take a cue from her and remain aloof. “Your timing is excellent. I put down a deposit and signed the agreement.”

  “I’m feeling uncomfortable here.” She pushed her bangs to the side of her face. “You were right, something is terribly wrong. I think the sooner we get out, the better.” She stepped into the room and closed the door. She glanced around and lowered her voice. “You’re packed?”

  “I said your timing was perfect.”

  “Will you help me pack?”

  He followed her across the hall. She opened the closet and dug around inside. A moment later, she hauled out a stack of eight or ten flattened boxes tied with twine.

  “You saved your boxes?”

  “So did you.”

  “I had, umm…four.” Looking around her room, he felt a sharp thorn in his throat. There was no storage shed and no garage at the new place. He couldn’t picture where her boxes would go in the seven hundred square foot cabin. He shook off the feeling of dread regarding the erosion of the simplicity he sought. He picked up the first sheet of folded cardboard and began reconstructing the box.

  An hour later, they were finished. “When should we tell Noreen?” he said.

  “I saw her on the deck, waving her butcher knife. She was ranting at Brian.”

  “Shit. That’s scary shit. Talking to someone who isn’t there.”

  Alexandra’s eyes were wider than normal, filled with moisture. “Frankly, I’m scared. I think we just need to get out of here.”

  “We can’t fit all of this in one trip.”

  “How far is it?”

  “About twenty minutes.”

  She nodded. “Then we better get busy.”

  “What’s the rush?”

  “I just told you…”

  “It’s not like she’s going to come into the room and stab us right now.” He laughed, then his voice dissolved into his throat. Maybe she was. For Alex to express fear, meant something. He didn’t like the anxious tone in his laugh. Everything was going as he wanted. Why was he delaying?

  58

  Two hours later, the far corner of the great room in the cabin was stacked wit
h moving boxes, making the tiny space appear even smaller. During the daytime, the cabin’s mild sense of claustrophobia was offset by an enormous window that occupied most of one wall, allowing light to fill the open-beam room despite the tightly clustered oak and pine trees with thick undergrowth between the cabin and the main house. Down a slight incline, but not visible from the cabin, was the languidly moving water of Soquel Creek. Occupying one side of the great room was a granite counter with a sink large enough to bathe a small dog, a two-burner gas cooktop, and a refrigerator. Opposite the kitchen area were adjacent doors, one leading to a small bedroom, the other to a bathroom.

  “It’s fantastic,” she said. “Better than the pictures.”

  The smile she gave him eased his concern over the number of boxes. He walked up to her and put his arms around her waist. She held him for a moment, patted his back, and stepped out of the circle of his arms.

  Something about the way her gaze darted from the kitchen area to the window to the bedroom made it seem as if she was making plans. And he didn’t have the impression her plans had anything to do with rearranging the furniture already in place, nothing to do with considering where she might store her belongings. She pulled her purse off her shoulder, removed her wallet, and opened it. “What do I owe?”

  “For the deposit…well, I can cover that. So seven-fifty for half the rent. And once we get utility bills, I’ll let you know the rest.”

  She pulled out a fistful of bills.

  “You can’t Paypal me, or write a check?”

  “Nope.” She held out the bills. He took them reluctantly.

  They set to — unpacking toiletries and the clothes they’d need for the next day. It was close to eleven when they settled into bed. Lying beside her was bliss, knowing he’d wake and she’d still be there.

  The purpose of meditation was learning to live in the present moment. He wouldn’t think about their frantic departure from Noreen’s, Alex’s insistence on paying him cash, the boxes crowding the main room, eating together, shopping for food, or any other details about how this would all work. He put his hand on her thigh, feeling her soft warmth. He took ten long, slow breaths, not thinking of anything.