“Can you tell me who Mr Myers’ next of kin would be?”
“Er, possibly his best friend, Lenny. Has something happened to Max?”
“I’m sorry.” The detective reached for Hannah’s hand, and held it tight. “Maxwell Myers was found dead this morning.”
*
The screams escaping Hannah made her feel woozy and light-headed. She vaguely remembered the woman helping her down to the carpet. She lay curled in a foetal position for what seemed like ages.
The detective left at one point, but returned soon after, with a blanket and pillow that had the ambulance logo on them.
A younger woman brought in a tray bearing two cups of coffee.
“Do you think you could answer a couple of questions now, Hannah?”
She nodded. Feeling spaced out, she shuffled to her feet, and returned to the chair. “How can he be dead? I only spoke to him last night.”
“I know. It’s a lot to take in, Hannah. But, it appears a man called Ken Barber has been behind all the recent occurrences.”
“You mean the break in at the lake?”
She nodded. “Everything, including the attack on your mother.”
“Oh my fucking God! Why?”
“We’re still looking into it, but up to now, it appears he was infatuated with you.”
“Me? I don’t even know him.”
“He worked here as a security guard.”
“I only know Don.”
“It’s not surprising. Most stalkers worship their subject from afar. Nine times out of ten the object of their affections will never lay eyes on them.”
Hannah buried her head in her hands, and tore at her hair. “It doesn’t make sense,” she shrieked, jumping to her feet. “Why the fuck would he do this?”
“That’s also unclear, sorry. But, he left a list of names in the day book.”
“Names?” Hannah paced backwards and forwards in the tiny room.
The detective checked her notes. “Steven Miller, who I believe was Head of Security.”
Hannah nodded.
“Simon Fowler.”
“He’s my neighbour. He went back to America.”
“Did he? Was it sudden?”
“Very.”
“And did you see him before he left?”
“I saw him the night before, but he left in the early hours of the next day. Apparently, he got some bad news about his grandmother.”
The detective nodded at the geeky man, who Hannah hadn’t noticed was still standing by the door.
“How about Diane Nagel?”
Hannah gasped. “She was my other neighbour. Someone murdered her at Cheadle Royal Infirmary. She was a doctor.”
“Agnes McLaughlin is your mother, I believe?”
Hannah nodded, more tears streamed down her face.
“And Maxwell Myers.”
Hannah couldn’t speak.
“It appears to be a list of deceased people, excluding Simon Fowler, at this stage. And each one is closely connected to you.”
“H-how did Max die?” she asked quietly, not even sure she wanted to know.
The detective looked down at her hands for a moment and then took a deep breath. “It appears he had been tortured over several hours, but he ultimately died of suffocation.”
“Oh, no!” she cried. “My poor, poor Max. I should have allowed him to call me back last night. I said I was going to bed. Now, I’ll never get to speak to him.” She wiped her face with her sleeve and sobbed.
“When did you last speak to Max?” The detective asked softly when Hannah finally looked up again.
“Yesterday morning. We came here from the hospital to get some sleep, and then, he got a call just after eleven. Something to do with a campaign. He rushed off saying he’d call me later.” Hannah rubbed her face again. “I tried to call him several times throughout the day, but last night, I tried again, just before Daddy and I settled down for the night. Max didn’t answer, but I got a text right after, saying he was busy, and he’d call me back.”
“What time was that?”
Hannah couldn’t think. “Hang on.” She checked her phone. “Ten thirty-two.”
The detective’s head shot up. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. It’s right there, if you don’t believe me.” She handed over the phone.
The detective frowned, as she read the message.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“I think this message was sent by the killer. We know Max’s ordeal began around seven, and continued for several hours.”
“But…” Hannah shook her head. “But, he called me ‘sausage.’”
“I’m afraid he was probably making a joke. Possibly taunting Max, at the time. You see, he says, ‘I’m tied up right now.’ Max had been tied to a chair for hours.”
“No!” Hannah cried. “I went to sleep, content I’d got hold of him, and all the while, poor Max was being…” She couldn’t continue. Deep, racking sobs shook her to the core.
The detective put her arm around Hannah, and allowed her to cry.
A sudden thought struck Hannah. “Do you know where this man is? I need to get back to the hospital. Mammy isn’t safe. What if he tries again?”
“Ken Barber took his own life last night. He hung himself from your neighbour’s balcony. We found a number of surveillance cameras in your flat, and, we believe, at a lake house owned by Mr Myers.”
“So, he’s dead?”
The detective nodded.
With a sigh, Hannah sat back down on the chair.
“We also need someone to formally identify Mr Myers’ body. I don’t suppose you...”
Hannah shuddered. “No. Not me. But, I know someone who will.” She took her phone off the detective, and located the number.
The ringing tone was halted by a surprised female voice. “Hannah?”
“Angela? I’m so sorry to tell you this, but Max is dead.” Hannah didn’t mean for her words to sound so brutal.
Angela was devastated. She hung up soon after, saying she was on her way.
It seemed only minutes later, Angela rushed in.
Hannah jumped to her feet at the sight of her. “I’m so sorry, Angela. We blamed you, but Max was always certain you’d never do anything to harm him.”
Angela’s face was wet with tears. She held her arms out, and Hannah stepped forward, hugging the older woman.
As Hannah expected, Angela organised everything. She identified Max’s body, and contacted Lenny and Charmaine. Then she assisted the police with the security footage.
Apparently, the night before, Don had reported Ken for switching off all the cameras, but Ken had made a huge error. The final images on the tapes showed him heading towards Max’s flat, and coming out over an hour later carrying Hannah’s gym bag. Then, he headed into the security hub, and turned off all the cameras.
“Never was the sharpest tool in the shed,” Angela said. “But, I wouldn’t have thought he was capable of this.”
“I’ve honestly never set eyes on this man before,” Hannah said, shaking her head. “And to think he’s been in my flat—in my bed—through all of my things. I just feel so dirty.”
Angela comforted her, never once leaving her side.
Later that afternoon, it was confirmed Simon’s body had been found in the chest freezer of his flat.
EPILOGUE
Hannah couldn’t face staying at her flat. Instead, Angela helped her clear out all her belongings. Then, Hannah handed the keys back to the agent. She wasn’t sad to leave. She left flowers on Diane and Simon’s doorsteps.
Hannah knew if she hadn’t moved to the city, all these people would still be going about their day-to-day lives. She wasn’t responsible, but that didn’t make the guilt go away.
She spent a couple of nights with Angela, and they’d grown close in that short time. But, Hannah would never forgive herself for falsely accusing her, although Angela didn’t seem to hold a grudge.
Once her mother was discharged,
they spent a night in a hotel, awaiting Max’s funeral. She intended to go home with her parents afterward.
On the day of the funeral, it broke her heart to see Lenny and Charmaine. They hugged and sobbed for what seemed like hours. None of them could speak.
Thanks to Angela, the funeral was lovely. She chose a classic, ornate white casket, with not a marker pen in sight.
It tore her heart out to say goodbye to her beautiful, funny man—her soulmate, of that she had no doubt.
After the service, she mingled for a while, but she felt out of place. Max would understand. He knew how much she hated that kind of thing.
After saying her goodbyes to Angela, Lenny, and Charmaine, she signalled to her parents it was time to leave.
Outside the front of the building, she saw a man she recognised but couldn’t place, leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette.
“Hello, Hannah,” he said.
“Don! I barely recognised you out of your uniform.”
He smiled sadly. “That happens a lot.”
“How are you?”
“Not coping very well, to be honest. I feel responsible.”
“Oh, you silly thing. Come here.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, and hugged him tight. Then, kissing his cheek, she pulled away. “It was no more your fault than mine. And believe me, I’ve blamed myself enough. But, the truth is, Ken was crazy.”
“You ready, Hannah?” her dad called.
“I have to go. I’m glad I got to see you before I left.”
“Are you going home?”
She nodded. “Back to my parents’. I’m looking forward to boring, for a while.” She waved. “Take care, Don.”
The following weeks and months passed in a flash. Anybody who knew Hannah would say she was just the same as before. But, she wasn’t—it was just easier to go along with things. All her old friends rallied around her, and tried to include her in activities, whenever they could. She helped her mother make her preserves, and sold them on the weekend. But, a part of her had died along with Max that night. The worst part was none of her friends or family had known him. Her parents had met him, but discouraged any mention of his name. She knew, in their hearts, they were looking out for her, but that wasn’t what she needed.
Her closest friend turned out to be Angela. Hannah called her every night from her bedroom. They would talk for hours, telling funny stories, mostly about Max. Hannah found that therapeutic.
Six months later, she was offered her old job back. She knew Angela had been behind it, but she snatched the opportunity with both hands.
And, on her first day at work, she finally felt she did indeed have a future. Maybe not with Max, although she knew he’d never be far from her thoughts. But, she did have a future,
Old Mr Turnbull’s eyes sparkled when he welcomed her back, and she felt genuine affection for the team. Like a well-worn sweater, she fit just right.
“Okay, that’ll be all,” Mr Turnbull said, after everyone had settled down. “She’s back for good now, and we’re expecting her to have picked up some magic tips from the city. Hannah, you know where your office is.”
She smiled. “I do. Thanks, everyone.”
In her office, she set about putting everything in its place. Someone tapped on her door, and she smiled and turned. “No need to kn…” Her words caught in her throat. “Don!” she gasped.
“Hello, stranger.”
She rushed into his arms. “I’m so pleased to see you. Angela told me you’d gone travelling.”
He nodded. “I breezed into Shropshire a couple of weeks ago, and heard about the vacancy.”
“You work here?”
“Don’t sound so surprised.” He laughed.
“No, I’m not. I’m thrilled. You must come to dinner, sometime.”
The End
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Acknowledgments
A huge thank you to my friends, Sandra, Susan, Serena, Jules and Marco. Your input every step of the way has been amazing and constant as always—from beta reading, critiquing and editing to just dragging me off for a much-needed coffee and a natter.
To Paul and my wonderful family, whose support is unwavering. You are my world.
A massive thanks to Betsy and Fred and the fantastic team at Bloodhound Books. You have made this such a pleasant and pain-free experience—you guys rock!
A huge shout out to all my online friends and groups—Tracy Fenton and TBC team, Mel Comley and Faith Mortimer to name but a few.
And last, but definitely not least, to YOU, the reader, for your continued support and encouragement.
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