The Watcher : A Chilling Serial Killer Thriller

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The Watcher : A Chilling Serial Killer Thriller Page 21

by Netta Newbound


  There was still no sign of Hannah. She could possibly be in the bathroom, but she didn’t usually spend this much time in there.

  If he was going to do this, it had to be now.

  Chapter 39

  As a soldier going into battle, he would mentally and physically prepare himself for conflict. He rechecked the monitor, because preparation was essential. No soldier should enter a battle zone without first accessing three essential pieces of information—terrain, people, and potential hazards.

  In this case, the coast was clear. He knew exactly where his target was. He could be at her side in less than sixty seconds. His only hazard would be if Hannah returned, or her mother woke before he could get to her. Dropping to the carpet, he did ten push-ups, before jumping to his feet, flapping his arms about himself to warm his muscles.

  Pumped up and in the zone, he took several self-assured steps towards Hannah’s front door. He paused, listening for any sound.

  Nothing.

  Taking great care to make no noise, he placed the key in the lock, and turned it. Once inside, he left the door ajar, for fear of alerting the target of his presence.

  The woman’s soft snores could be heard from the hallway. He scanned the bathroom and kitchen first.

  All clear.

  Standing beside her, he leaned forward, holding his breath while his face was inches from hers. She had no idea he was there. He smiled, as he noticed the opening at the front of her black blouse. The crossover fabric had parted giving him a good view of her lacy pink bra.

  His cock twitched.

  Surprised by his body’s reaction to this rather attractive pensioner, he wondered how it would feel to fuck her pretty, little mouth while she was dead. Or to bend her over the back of the sofa and fill both holes in turn, ramming his now fully engorged cock in as far as he could.

  He stepped away, and lifted a cushion from the chair. Then, bending towards her again, he held it in front of her, ready to pounce as soon as she stirred.

  With a finger and thumb, he gently pulled the fabric of her blouse wider apart giving a much better view of her generous tits. The desire to fuck her stupid was almost taking over the logical part of his mind. He’d never been in a position like this before. Normally he couldn’t perform with fully conscious, consenting women, but to be this close to a woman, without her knowledge, stirred feelings in him he’d never experienced before.

  He began to lift her skirt, wishing he had brought a condom from the packet next door. He had to remind himself without one, any physical contact would leave behind far too much evidence.

  Once the tops of her milky white thighs were exposed, Don rubbed his free hand along the length of his cock, through the fabric. The excitement was overwhelming, and he longed to undo his trousers. The pain in his crotch was almost too much to bear.

  “What the heck?”

  Her voice startled him—he’d allowed himself to be distracted. In a split second, he fell forward, covering her face with the cushion.

  Pinned on her back, with his knee on her chest, she was no match for him. She struggled, but not for long. He released his hold on her.

  The further excitement had caused him to ejaculate inside his trousers. He wouldn’t be able to fuck her after all.

  Standing upright, he placed the cushion back in place, pulled her clothes straight again, and headed for the door.

  As an afterthought, he entered the kitchen, and turned on the faulty knob of the gas cooker.

  That would confuse everybody for a while.

  ***

  Hannah was disappointed to find Max in the middle of a meeting when she arrived at the office. She checked a few emails, and wasted half an hour in the hopes he’d be finished, but he wasn’t.

  Gathering her things together, she sent him a message to let him know her mother was cooking dinner, and to come over after work.

  She called into the supermarket on the way home, and was surprised how busy it was. She glanced at her watch. 5.23pm. She hadn’t realised it was rush-hour.

  Grabbing the last basket, she almost came to blows with a hefty woman, who had a baby wrapped in a sling and a toddler on a lead.

  “That’s mine!” the woman screeched, yanking at the basket handle.

  Not wanting to get into a slanging match, Hannah handed it over.

  After wasting even more time searching for another, she began to collect the items she needed for dinner, holding them in her arms. She could’ve cried when she reached the checkouts to see four massive queues.

  It was almost six o’clock, before Hannah eased into a parking spot outside her flat.

  She’d just opened the boot, when someone came up behind her and tickled her ribs.

  She squealed and spun around. “Oh, Max. I almost socked you one then.”

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist. Here, let me help.”

  She loaded him up with grocery bags, and together, they headed to the stairs.

  “How was your day?” he asked.

  “Sad. But, really strange. Everybody was dressed in bright colours, and nobody was allowed to cry—although I failed miserably at that one. Diane’s casket was painted bright yellow, and everybody wrote a message on it in bright-coloured marker pens—I failed at that, too. Although, I did pop back and sign it quickly before we left.”

  “Hadn’t the casket been removed after the service?”

  “No. Apparently, the close family plan to have their own burial service tomorrow.”

  “Burial? I didn’t think anybody did that these days.”

  “Clearly some still do. I don’t want to be buried though.” She shuddered. “The thought of wiggly worms slithering through my empty eye sockets and bugs munching their way through my innards—no way.”

  “I’ll remember that.” He smirked.

  They reached the front door, and Max hung back to allow Hannah to open it.

  “We’re here, Mammy,” she called, as they entered.

  “Can I smell gas?” Max said.

  “Oh, no!” Hannah ran to the kitchen, and saw the faulty knob was turned all the way around, and gas was pouring out. She switched it off, opened the window, and began waving her hands to remove as much of the awful stuff as possible.

  “Hannah,” Max said quietly.

  Alarmed, she followed his voice into the lounge. Max held his phone, and headed back out the front door. But then she noticed her mother, unconscious on the sofa.

  “Ambulance, please!” Max’s voice carried through.

  “Oh, no!” Hannah screamed, and fell to her knees beside her. “Mammy! Wake up!” She shook and shook her mother. It was no use.

  She was vaguely aware of Max returning. “Hannah,” he snapped. “Hannah, listen to me. We’ve got to get outside. The gas is toxic and highly flammable—this whole place could blow.”

  He put his arms underneath her mother, and lifted. “Come on. Hurry.”

  Hannah numbly followed him out of the flat, and down onto the street, where he lay her mother on a small strip of grass.

  “Is she dead?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know.” Max felt her mother’s wrist. “I’m sure I can feel a faint pulse.”

  “She can’t die, Max. She can’t die. Please, don’t let her die.” Suddenly light-headed, she sat down on the footpath.

  They heard the ambulance minutes before they saw it.

  Hannah climbed back to her feet, and stood in the middle of the road, waving, when they arrived.

  Chapter 40

  After confirming her mother did indeed have a slight pulse, the paramedics transferred her to a stretcher, and into the back of the ambulance.

  “Can I come?” she asked the middle-aged male driver.

  “Best not to, Hannah,” Max said. “We’ll follow behind in the car.”

  “But…”

  He gently took her aside. “There’s hardly any room in there. Let them do their job, and we’ll meet them at the hospital. I promise.”

  T
he driver nodded his agreement, and closed the door.

  She sobbed as the ambulance sped away, the sirens wailing again.

  “Come on.” He guided her to his car, and fastened her seatbelt. “I won’t be a minute. I’ll just lock up your flat.”

  She watched, as he ran towards the stairs. He was back moments later, carrying her handbag, jacket, and keys.

  “The gas seems to have dissipated. Did you manage to turn something off?”

  She nodded. “It’s all my fault. I meant to call the rental agency about the faulty knob, but I forgot.”

  “It’s nobody’s fault. Just an accident. That’s all.”

  “But, what if she dies, Max? I’ll never forgive myself.”

  “She isn’t going to die.” He reached for her hand, and stroked her fingers.

  Hannah could tell by his expression he wasn’t certain.

  “I need to call Daddy.” Shoving his hand away, she began rummaging in her bag for her phone.

  “It may be a good idea to wait until we find out a little more. It’s pointless stressing him out unnecessarily.”

  Hannah nodded. Max was right, of course.

  They found a car park close to the emergency entrance of Cheadle Royal Infirmary. Hannah’s thoughts went to memories of Diane, when she saw the uniforms. A member of staff took down her mother’s details, and then showed them to a smaller waiting room, where she explained the doctor would inform them as soon as they had any news.

  Max sat beside Hannah, placing his arm around her shoulder. She jumped to her feet. “Don’t! I feel claustrophobic.”

  He held his hands up, then placed them in his lap.

  The silence was deafening.

  A while later, the door swung open. Hannah’s breath hitched. Another staff member showed an elderly man in, and escorted him to a chair.

  “Now, the doctor will come and find you once your wife is settled, Mr Christiansen. Will you be okay?”

  The dear old man nodded, his lips and hands trembling.

  Hannah glanced at Max. “I’m sorry for snapping,” she whispered. She sat beside him, and reached for his hand.

  “I know.”

  “I just wish somebody would tell us what’s happening.”

  “Shall I go for some coffee?” he asked.

  “It’s up to you. I don’t want one.”

  “Water?”

  She nodded, just to shut him up.

  “Can I get you a cup of water, buddy?” Max asked the man.

  The man turned to them, the pain in his watery blue eyes breaking Hannah’s heart.

  “That’s very kind of you, son. Thanks.” He nodded.

  Max went off in search of refreshments.

  “Are you waiting for your wife?” Hannah asked.

  He nodded. “Angina. She’s had it for a while, but this time was different.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You?”

  “My mammy. We found her unconscious in my flat—gas leak.”

  He reached to pat her hand. The fingers of his wrinkled and liver-spotted hand were twisted. Hannah recognised it as arthritis. Her friend’s grandmother had suffered with it.

  She smiled, and looked back down at her feet.

  “We’ve been together for sixty-three years. I always thought I would be the one to go first.”

  Hannah nodded. “I’ve never thought of it, to be honest. You just expect your parents to be around forever, don’t you?”

  “Yes. Although, I don’t remember my father. He was killed in the war, but my mother died quite young. I was only seventeen.”

  “That’s terrible!” Hannah moved over one seat to sit beside him. She linked her arm through his. “You were still a child.”

  “Grew up pretty quick after that, let me tell you.”

  “Do you have children?”

  “Two. Julia and James. But, they both have families of their own.”

  “Have you called them?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll ask the nurse to do it for me later.”

  “Do you want to use my phone? They probably should be here.”

  “Could I?”

  Hannah reached for her purse, and pulled out her phone. “Here you go.”

  He took it, and turned it around several times in his hand, his eyebrows furrowed.

  “I can call them, if you like?”

  “Yes, please.” He handed the phone back, and recited a phone number for her.

  Hannah dialled, and waited for it to ring, before handing it back to him.

  His entire body shook as he put the phone to his ear. “Julia. It’s Dad.” He almost shouted. “I’m at the hospital again.” He nodded a couple of times, before handing the phone back to Hannah. Then, he wiped his eyes on his shirtsleeve.

  “What did she say?” Hannah asked.

  “She’s on her way.”

  She sighed. “Good. You shouldn’t be alone at a time like this.”

  Max returned carrying two plastic cups filled with water. He handed one to each of them. “You won’t believe it, but I had to go all the way back to the entrance for these.”

  The door opened and a tall, blonde nurse appeared. She smiled at Hannah. “Ms McLaughlin?”

  Hannah nodded.

  “Can we have a little chat?”

  Hannah handed the cup back to Max, as she picked up her purse and jacket. “Can my friend come, too?”

  “Of course he can.” Her smile caused dimples in her pretty face.

  They followed her out.

  “Good luck,” the old man said.

  “Thanks. Same to you.” Hannah waved, and then ran back to give him a hug. “Will you be alright until your daughter arrives?”

  “Don’t worry about me, pet. I’ll be fine.”

  They followed the nurse around a series of corridors, and through to a busy open area.

  Hannah wanted to scream at her to stop walking and just fucking tell her—was her mother dead? But, she was terrified of hearing the actual words. She wanted to put it off for as long as she could.

  The nurse paused beside a curtain. “Your mother is stable. We will be transferring her to a ward shortly, but I’m sure you’re keen to see her.”

  “Yes, please.” Tears spilled down Hannah’s cheeks at the welcome news. “Will she be alright?”

  “We hope so. She’s still unconscious, but that’s quite normal. We’ve run a series of tests, and we should get the results back in a few hours.”

  “Thank you.” Hannah gripped Max’s hand.

  “Ready?” the nurse asked.

  They nodded, and she pulled the curtain open.

  Hannah ran to her mother’s side, and kissed her beautiful face. “Oh, Mammy. You gave us such a fright.”

  Chapter 41

  Don headed back to his own flat to get ready for his shift. He checked the cameras as he arrived. In the time it took for him to drive across town from Hannah’s, he missed them finding Hannah’s mother. He did, however, see Max return, to grab a few items, before rushing off again.

  Don had been surprised the place wasn’t swarming with police and specialists, as was usual in a case like this. The body had also been moved. He figured it was probably down to Maxwell-fucking-Myers acting all macho-like. He could imagine him running in like Rambo, and after detecting gas, evacuating the building, and rescuing Hannah’s mother’s body for a few fucking brownie points.

  That man needed dealing with—and fast.

  He tuned into the local radio for the news updates, but nothing was said about a death. If it was accepted as a tragic accident, it may not be considered juicy enough for the news bulletin, and he’d need to watch the evening news instead.

  He was in a great mood, no doubt due to his sexual encounter with the older woman. He knew he would have felt better had he managed to do what he’d wanted. This opened up a lot of new possibilities for him. He’d finally discovered something which turned him on enough to ejaculate, without thinking about his own mother. His cock
twitched again just thinking about it.

  At work, a short time later, he busied himself with his rounds, and planned the following fortnight’s roster. When he checked the cameras a while later, he was surprised Hannah hadn’t returned home. Maybe she couldn’t face it, considering that was where her mother had died. He hadn’t considered that.

  With a few taps of the keyboard, images of the car park filled the screen. He scanned Max’s reserved space—it was empty. They weren’t up in his apartment, either. Where the fuck could they be?

  He felt his earlier good mood slip away.

  ***

  They moved her mother to a ward a couple of hours later.

  In the corridor, on the way to the lift, Hannah spotted the old man from earlier. She was about to call over to him when she noticed his distraught face. A man and woman came from the bathrooms. It was clear they’d been crying. They each took one of his arms, and slowly led him towards the exit.

  Hannah’s eyes filled for the hundredth time that day.

  “Hey, sausage. What is it?” Max asked, putting his hand on her arm.

  She couldn’t speak. Instead, she shook her head, closed her eyes, and let the tears fall.

  He embraced her, and she buried her head in his chest. “She’s going to be alright. Are you worried about calling your dad?”

  “A little,” she managed.

  “Well, don’t. What happened is in no way down to you. That knob didn’t turn itself on, so your mother must have done it.”

  “I think that old man’s wife has died.”

  Max hugged her tighter. “That’s sad, but inevitable, at their time of life. Your mum has years in her yet.”

  He called the lift, and they travelled up to Ward 8 in silence.

  Hannah was relieved to find they’d placed her mother in a room of her own. She knew the hospital had a strict visitor policy, but one of the nurses had told her they overlook a lot, if the patient was in a private room. Hannah had decided she wasn’t going anywhere until her mother woke up.

 

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