The Watcher : A Chilling Serial Killer Thriller

by Netta Newbound

  Lenny nodded. “Yeah, I’ll get it sorted now. I’ve a few boards in the boat shed. I planned to get Trixie out tonight, anyway.”

  “Are you sure you don’t need a hand?”

  “Na. I’m fine. You get back to your guest. She seems nice, by the way.”

  Max grinned. “She is nice. I have a good feeling about her, Len.”

  ***

  Just as Don thought, he’d got the wrong address. Maxwell-fucking-Myers appeared on the road.

  Once he’d gone back in, Don approached the property again. He watched the other guy knocking the loose glass out of the frames from the inside. Once again, there was no sign of Max or Hannah.

  After a short while, the guy left the cottage, and walked to the rear of the property. Don, still in the safety of the bushes, followed him towards the lake.

  Just then, he saw the other, flashier, house. He hadn’t considered there could be two houses at the one address.

  He stayed in the bushes, watching the other man inside a shed down beside the water. He heard a motor fire up. It was a boat shed.

  He smiled. At least now he wouldn’t have to sleep in the car.

  Observing from a distance, in case Myers returned, he soon realised the man was just another employee. Myers would be up in the huge house, with his girl.

  Snap-snap-snap.

  Once he was sure Myers was well and truly gone, he moved towards the boat shed. It looked as though the man was preparing the boat for a trip, arranging fishing rods, opening the blinds, and cleaning down all the surfaces.

  Maxwell-fucking-Myers was taking Hannah for a romantic day out on the lake.

  A while later, the man passed close by Don, lugging a huge board—clearly to fix the window with.

  Don skulked back to his car.

  Chapter 22

  Hannah had worked herself into a frenzy—convinced she was the target of someone’s wrath. In fact, she was certain Angela was the culprit, though she knew how crazy it sounded.

  “Did you see anyone?” she asked, when Max returned a short time later.

  “Not a soul. They were long gone. Probably just kids.” He sat beside her on the rug. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He lifted her chin to look into her face.

  “You’ll think I’m stupid.”

  “I won’t. Tell me. What is it?”

  She exhaled noisily, and moved back a little, turning to face him. “Since I moved here, and started my new job, I’ve had a feeling someone’s been stalking me—entering my flat, when I’m not home.”

  “Really?” His forehead creased.

  She nodded. “But, that’s not all. My sports bag went missing from the gym locker. Steve Miller found it for me—it had been put away in the wrong locker. There was nothing missing, but I knew the contents had been tampered with.”

  “In what way?”

  “That’s where it gets creepy. My underwear had been replaced with newer, very similar stuff, but it wasn’t my stuff.”

  “That is creepy. Are you sure?”

  “Not at first, I thought I was being paranoid. But, then, I kept feeling someone had been in my flat—especially my bedroom. Then, do you remember the black dress I wore to the restaurant that night?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well…” she shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this, but I’d bought it in a sale the week before. It should’ve been hundreds of pounds, but it had a wire missing from under the boob area.”

  “Oh, I didn’t notice.”

  “That’s because the dress had been replaced, too. I didn’t realise myself, at first, but suddenly there was no fault.”

  “That would mean someone’s paid hundreds of dollars to replace your dress, without you even knowing about it. I mean—who would do that?”

  “I dunno.”

  “So, what else? Because I can tell by your face there’s more.”

  “The other night—after we found out about Diane—I went to pack a bag, and couldn’t find my perfume. Then, I found it under the bed. Plus—the bed had been moved. The indents in the carpet were off by an inch or two.”

  “So, that’s all of it? We’ve been together ever since, so there can’t be more. Or can there?”

  She nodded again. “Your car, and now the window. What if it’s all connected?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I agree the other stuff you told me sounds odd, and yes, I’d be concerned about it. But, nobody knows about us, or about this place.”

  “Somebody does.”

  “Who?”

  “Angela.”

  Max laughed. “And what? You think Angela scratched my car, and broke the window? Or all of it? You think she’s been in your flat and swapped your clothing?”

  “I knew you’d think I’ve lost my marbles. But, it all makes sense.”

  “What does? What am I missing?” he asked.

  “She’s in love with you.”

  Clearly confused, Max scratched his head. “You think Angela did this to you, because she’s in love with me?”

  She nodded. “I’m certain of it.”

  “I’m sorry, Hannah. But, this doesn’t make sense to me. Angela is just my PA. There’s never been anything inappropriate between us. She’s hardworking and loyal. Not only that, even I didn’t think you and I had any future, until a couple of nights ago.”

  “I know all that. And, honestly, I feel terrible saying this to you. But, that day, when we first met, there was clearly some chemistry between us.”

  “Yes, but…”

  “Then, the day we bumped into each other in the canteen, she was waiting for me at my desk, and tore a strip off me for being late. But, I wasn’t late. I was bang on time.”

  “Really?”

  She sighed, and tried to smile. “And there’s more. Angela warned me off you—even told me to pull out of the Leno campaign.”

  “Angela told you I’d been sleeping my way through all the employees?”

  Hannah nodded again. “Sorry, Max. That’s why I couldn’t tell you. She’s my boss, when all’s said and done.”

  “Not for much longer, she’s not.”

  Hannah gasped. “What will you do? We have no proof.”

  Max rubbed his unshaven chin. “We need to play it safe, try to catch her out.”

  She nodded, suddenly dreading Monday morning.

  “And don’t worry. We’ll work it out together.” He hugged her tight. “I hate seeing you so upset—first Diane, and now, this.”

  Relieved he actually believed her, she gently stroked his face with her hand. “Thank you, Max. It means a lot.”

  They made love again, but this time, without the lustful urgency of earlier. They spent hours exploring each other’s body, and afterwards, lay sweaty and spent in each other’s arms.

  Much later, Hannah extricated herself from her human restraint, and padded to the balcony, wrapped in the sofa throw. She sat on a recliner, and dozed to the sound of the lapping water.

  “Oh, there you are,” Max said from the doorway.

  She held her hand out towards him. When he took it, she dragged him closer, moving to allow him to sit. She climbed onto his knee, and wrapped them both in the throw. “Oh, Max. It’s so beautiful here.”

  “I’m glad you like it. When my parents bought the property, there was just the fishing lodge, which is now Lenny’s cottage. It was a lot rougher in those days, but my dad could see the potential. His dream was to build this stunning lake house, and for them to retire here.”

  “That’s so sweet.”

  “Dad drew up the plans. He and Mum were at odds over the design, but he stuck to his guns.”

  “Oh, no! Did she like it, once it was built?”

  “Begrudgingly, yes. She didn’t want to, and he practically had to force her through the front door. But, after wandering around the bedrooms stony-faced, she looked at me and Dad, and beamed.”

  “Thank goodness for that!” Hannah laughed.

  “They were always like that
with each other. Such different opinions, but they were closer than any couple I’ve ever met. That’s why I’ve waited so long to bring anyone home. I needed to feel the kind of connection they had.”

  “You’ve never brought a girlfriend home before?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve had several dates. Lots of friends have tried to set me up, but it’s never felt right—until now.” He glanced at her, his forehead furrowed.

  “Oh, Max. That’s the sweetest thing anybody’s ever said to me. And just so you’re in no doubt—I feel exactly the same.”

  They watched the sunrise while in each other’s arms. Moody shades of mauve and indigo were broken by a spectacular show of pinks and yellows mirroring back on itself across the still water.

  “It’s beautiful,” Hannah whispered.

  “Just like you.” He kissed her deeply. “Come on, I’ll make you some breakfast.” He guided her to her feet, and followed her inside.

  ***

  Don slept fitfully on one of the boat bunks. As the sun rose, he grabbed his things together, and headed for the door of the boathouse.

  When he rounded the corner, he stopped, and jumped back for cover. Hannah and Maxwell-fucking-Myers were lying together on an outdoor chair, chewing the faces off one another.

  Snap-snap-snap.

  His fury was getting harder and harder to control. Suddenly, the band snapped, and fell to the ground.

  Chapter 23

  Even though she’d spent part of the evening in Max’s bed, Hannah didn’t feel confident enough to shower in his bathroom. Besides, her bag was still in the spare room. So, leaving him making breakfast, she headed downstairs to freshen up.

  Thinking about heading home tonight reminded her of the problem they had with Angela. She didn’t regret telling Max everything, but it didn’t stop her worrying about how he intended to deal with it.

  The thought of being targeted by a crazed stalker freaked her out a little. Although, if Angela was capable of being violent, surely, she’d have shown that side of herself by now.

  After showering, she dressed in shorts and a strappy blue top, and then headed back up to the kitchen. “Mmmm, something smells delicious.”

  “Just in time. Go sit yourself down. I’ve laid the table out on the balcony.”

  She did as he asked, and he followed her out with two plates filled with strips of crispy bacon, poached eggs, and grilled tomatoes. On the table, there was crusty bread, freshly squeezed orange juice, and a pot of coffee.

  “Gee, you’ve been busy. And I thought you didn’t eat breakfast?” she said.

  “I’m willing to make an exception for you. Plus, we worked up quite an appetite last night, didn’t we?” He bent to kiss her, before taking his seat.

  Her phone rang from her handbag beside the sofa. She gasped, and glanced at him. “It might be Simon.”

  “Go get it.”

  She ran inside and fumbled in her bag. “Hello,” she said, without looking at the screen.

  “Good morning, sweetheart.”

  “Oh, hi, Mammy.” She winced, as she glanced out at Max and shrugged.

  He winked.

  “Just checking in with you. Kimmy Jackson from across the road is doing the stall for me today, and Daddy’s taking me for a drive and a bite of lunch.”

  “Oh, that’s nice.”

  “Are you not home? I tried the landline first.”

  “Er, no. I’m staying with a friend.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “We came to the Lake District for the weekend. I must go, Mammy. We’re just about to eat breakfast. Can I call you from home tonight?”

  “Of course you can. Have a lovely day, sweetheart.” Hannah switched off the phone, and returned to the table.

  “Sorry about that, Max. It’s just I still haven’t heard from Simon.” She sat back opposite him, and tucked in to her food.

  “Try to call him.”

  “In the States? It’ll cost a fortune.”

  “Use my phone. It’s fine.”

  She shook her head, and placed her hand over her mouth while she chewed her food. “No. It’s okay. I’ll email him later.”

  “I don’t mind, honestly. Plus, it’s a company phone, so you may as well use it.”

  “Okay. I’ll check out the time difference, and call him later.”

  “Are you looking forward to today?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “I think I’ve worked it out. Is Trixie a dog?”

  “Nope!”

  “A horse?” She grinned. “Are we going horse riding?”

  His eyes twinkled. “Nope!” He glanced at his watch. “I’d better get ready. Keep guessing. I’ll be back shortly.”

  She growled in mock rage, and he laughed, as he ran down the stairs.

  Half an hour later, he led her down to the garden. Holding her hands, he made her walk backwards towards the lake.

  Giggling hysterically, she almost toppled over a couple of times.

  Max nodded to someone out of her vision, and moments later, an engine started up.

  Hannah began to turn.

  “Tut, tut, tut. No peeking.”

  “Oh, come on.” She pulled her hands from his, and spun around.

  Lenny waved at her from the top deck of a stunning wooden boat. Trixie-Belle was emblazoned down the side.

  Hannah was speechless.

  “So? What do you think?”

  She shook her head and smiled. “I’d worked out it was going to be a boat when you headed for the lake, but wow!”

  “She’s a launch. A beauty, isn’t she?”

  “She’s that, alright.” She gazed over the graceful lines of the launch. It was a mixture of natural and white-painted wood. The top deck was exposed, apart from a canvas roof, with two seats facing the dashboard and steering wheel. Two doors opened to several steps dropping into the bottom deck.

  “Fancy a tour, madam?” Max smirked, holding his hand out.

  “Don’t mind if I do.” She took his hand, and, after a couple of wobbly moments, stepped onto the back deck of the boat.

  Down the steps, two single beds sat either side of a table. A small cooker and benchtop on the right faced a wall of built-in units. A triangular double bed was in the very front. Highly varnished wood was fitted throughout.

  “Do you sleep on here?”

  Max nodded. “I have done, but don’t see the point, to be honest. If we go out for a fish, it’s easier to come home to bed. Anyway, come on, I want you to meet Charmaine.”

  As they climbed the steps, she noticed a short, stocky woman, with shoulder-length, dark, wavy hair, dressed in bright pink shorts and a tight white T-shirt.

  Hannah hit it off with the other woman almost immediately, but a melancholy mood came over her. Charmaine reminded her of Diane, from her build, to her easy smile, and sense of humour.

  “Right, are we all set?” Max said.

  Everyone nodded.

  He bent, and opened a cupboard underneath the dash, taking out a hat. He placed it on his head, showing Hannah. Cap’n Max was embroidered across the front.

  Hannah smiled. “Of course. I forgot all about that.”

  “Move over, sailor,” he said to Lenny, who scooted out of the captain’s chair.

  Max looked at home behind the wheel, and Hannah had lustful thoughts while watching him expertly manoeuvre the boat away from the jetty, and out to the centre of the lake.

  She sat beside Charmaine, on the bench running around the edge of the deck, while the men showed off. The motor was so loud, it prevented them from talking, and each time one of them tried, they ended up laughing.

  After zooming around the outside of the lake, the boat eventually stopped. The men raced around, dropping anchor, and organising the fishing rods.

  “Do you fish, Hannah?” Charmaine asked.

  “I have, years ago. But, I’ve got a phobia about touching raw fish.” She shuddered. “It’s so wet and slimy.”

  Charmaine barked out a laugh.


  “Now she tells me.” Max shook his head.

  “To be fair, I would have told you, had I known we were spending the day fishing.”

  “Ah, there is that.” They all laughed.

  “Anyway, I don’t mind watching you, and I’ve got my book on my phone, if I get bored.”

  A couple of hours later, Max had caught two large brown trout, and Charmaine and Lenny one each. They packed the rods away.

  “I made us a picnic lunch, in the hope we’d have some fresh fish to go with it,” Charmaine said. “You do eat fish, don’t you?”

  Hannah nodded. “I love it, once it’s cooked. Just can’t help you gut and fillet it, sorry.”

  Charmaine placed a hand on Hannah’s arm. “That’s the men’s job. We’re just responsible for cooking and eating it.”

  “I’m fine with that, then.” Hannah laughed.

  Chapter 24

  Before picking the lock, Don tried the door, and, surprisingly, it opened.

  The cocky bastard doesn’t even lock his house up when he heads out for the day.

  He knew there was nobody home—he’d watched them all sail away, as though they hadn’t a care in the world.

  The stupid house was upside down, as far as he was concerned. The bedrooms were downstairs, and the living rooms up. As he scanned the bedrooms, he noticed the messed up master bedroom with discarded clothing, Hannah’s and Max-fucking-Myer’s himself, strewn all over the carpet.

  He reached for his wristband, and, remembering it wasn’t there, an instant rage suddenly surfaced. Yanking his penknife from his jeans pocket, he roared, pouncing onto the bed on all fours, and began to slash at the mattress and pillows. The blue and gold bedspread was soon torn to ribbons, with feathers and mattress stuffing spilled onto the carpet.

  Exhausted, he got to his feet, and took a few steps back to inspect his handiwork. He hadn’t intended doing that, but he felt quite proud of himself, even though they’d now know somebody had been in the house.

  Before he left the room, he picked up a pair of red lace panties, and shoved them into his pocket, rubbing his semi-hard cock through the fabric.