by Jack Jordan
He longed to see Naomi, but he knew it would be so much harder for him once he left, haunted by the beauty of her face and what might have been.
He checked the directions as he drove down a particularly narrow lane. The car veered to the left and scraped against the hedgerow. He swerved back into the middle of the road, his heart clambering in his chest.
The sun beat down on the car and glared against the bonnet, and hot air filtered through the open windows, unable to cool the sweat trickling down his temples. As he took the final corner, he spotted the house at the end, standing tall and beautiful, just like her. It was made of red bricks, with white sash windows and a dark green front door, rose bushes on either side basking in the sun.
She deserves this, he thought.
He pulled up outside the house and checked himself in the rear-view mirror, smoothing down his hair where sweat had caused it to curl and wiping the corners of his eyes with licked fingertips. Then he stepped out of the car and took a deep breath.
The gravel crunched beneath his feet as the aroma of the roses filled his lungs. He rang the doorbell and waited, patting down his shirt and running his hand through his hair. The bell chimed through the house behind the stained glass, and a dog barked.
As the door edged open, Max’s head forced its way through the gap, and he bounded out onto the gravel, tail wagging, barking up at Marcus excitedly. He was slower than he would have been before the attack, but he still exuded joy, like heat radiating from his fur. Marcus bent down to pet him as he looked up towards the door.
Dane, the man who had her heart. He was tall and lean, with sculpted arms and a broad chest hidden beneath a white top, so white that it was almost blinding in the sun. His hair was damp from a recent shower. Marcus thought of Dane and Naomi together beneath the showerhead, their lips locked and their naked, scarred bodies lathered in soap suds.
‘Marcus, it’s good to see you.’
It felt odd, hearing him use his first name.
‘Great house.’
‘Gorgeous, isn’t it? It was my mother’s. I’d been renting it out for years, tucking the money away for retirement, but it finally felt like the right time to come home. Come inside, I’ll get us a drink.’ He turned his attention to Max. ‘You too, mister.’
It was warm and quaint inside, so different from her last house. Maybe it was the jealousy that tinted Marcus’s view, but right then, standing in Naomi’s new home, he wished it were his. Theirs.
‘Tea? Coffee?’
‘Black coffee would be great.’
Dane caught his eye drifting up the staircase, each step wrapped in cream carpet.
‘Naomi will be down in five minutes.’
Marcus followed him through the house, noticing all the beautiful features that Naomi herself couldn’t see, from the art on the walls to the pattern on the runner leading down the hall. Dane led him into a beautifully lit kitchen where the windows overlooked a long, winding garden. He made conversation as the kettle boiled, and it was clear that he wanted Marcus to like him. Marcus wished he could – he had saved the man’s life after all – but he could never like a man who had the heart of the woman he wanted. When he looked at Dane, he saw the sniffling mess in the interview room, the man who had brought Josie into Naomi’s life.
‘Hi,’ she said from the doorway.
The months he had gone without seeing her had only deepened her beauty. Her eyes, her smile, her lips, they were just as he remembered, but there was something different about her now: a hardness, as though taking a life had steeled her heart. If only she knew that she wasn’t alone, that the past haunted him at night too.
‘Hi.’
She wore a long summer dress covered in a pattern of colourful flowers, complementing the deep brown of her skin, her scars somehow making her more beautiful, a rarity. But her eyelids were swollen from sleepless nights. When he lay awake at night thinking of her, she was awake too, thinking of Josie’s body falling limp beneath her, the smell of fire crackling on her skin.
‘Here you go,’ Dane said, and handed Marcus his coffee. He took a mug to Naomi and waited for her fingers to wrap around the handle. ‘You guys catch up,’ he said. ‘It’s beautiful outside; maybe you want to sit on the patio.’
‘That okay with you, Marcus?’
‘Of course. Lead the way.’
Naomi moved freely through the house towards the French windows, allowing the sound of birdsong to ripple into the house. Marcus wondered how long it had taken her to master her way around and how many bruises she’d had to wear before she could call it home.
Max brushed past him and flopped down on the lawn, his tongue dangling towards the grass.
‘He loves it here,’ Naomi said as she sat at the table on the patio. ‘He’d probably prefer it if I let him roam the fields out back until I called him in for dinner.’
‘He looks happy to be back with you,’ Marcus said.
‘Not as happy as me. I missed him so much.’
He sat at the table and shuffled close, blushing as their knees touched.
‘Have you thought of getting another guide dog? The unretired kind, I mean?’
‘After what happened … I just couldn’t risk another life like that, not again.’
‘But you’re free now; no one can hurt you here.’
‘I’ll never feel safe, even with Blake in prison and Josie –’ she flinched with the memory – ‘gone.’
‘They really are gone, Naomi. Blake will be in prison until the day he dies.’
The case had been drawn out for months. Even with the evidence mounted against him – the photo of him wearing the watch, Grace’s testimony about the night of the rape, the corruption orchestrated by Nathan Crouch confessed on tape, the argument Blake and Amber had had just hours before she died, and the investigation Amber and Cassie had undertaken – Blake still wouldn’t admit to what he had done, making it harder to convict without the discovery of Hayley’s body. The media had relished it, dragging Naomi back onto the front pages, the Blind Widow approaching the courtroom to talk about her experience in the alley.
She was silent for a moment. The backdrop of the garden glowed in the sun behind her. Bees buzzed from flower to flower.
‘Even when you say it, I can’t quite believe it,’ she said.
‘Please do.’
‘I just … I don’t understand why Blake didn’t kill me like the others.’
‘Maybe because you’re blind, he didn’t see you as a threat in the alley, but then paranoia set in. Maybe he thought you knew more about what had happened to Hayley, so he attacked you and Max on the beach as a threat. He tried to frame Dane; that’s why he hurt Josie. Maybe hurting you was part of framing Dane too.’
‘Maybe … maybe … There don’t seem to be any concrete answers. How can I move on when I don’t know for sure?’
‘Blake is a coward. He still won’t accept what he’s done. And without knowing where Hayley’s body is, we have to try and connect the dots ourselves. You will overcome this, Naomi, but it will take time.’
Even with her scars, she looked more alive than he had ever seen her, even when he noticed the pain dwelling in her eyes.
‘You did it,’ he said suddenly.
‘Did what?’
‘You survived.’
‘I just take each day as it comes.’
‘I’m happy for you.’
‘Mum read in the paper that you’ll make inspector by next year. I’m happy for you too.’
‘Thanks. It still feels new, but I’m getting used to it.’
‘And Lisa? Where did she end up?’
‘Moved to another town. It was for the best.’
They sat quietly for a moment, listening to the sounds of the garden. He would do anything to stay there with her, but he had to prise himself away before he was pushed. He looked up at the house, at the life Naomi had found for herself, and smiled as he returned his gaze to her.
He stood up. ‘Thanks for
the coffee.’
She rose and moved towards him, one hand out in front of her. Marcus stayed stock still and waited for her fingertips to meet his shirt just above his heart. The feel of her sent shocks through his skin.
‘A handshake doesn’t seem appropriate for the man who saved my life.’
He laughed nervously as he opened his arms and felt hers slip around him. They held each other for mere seconds, but it would be enough to carry him home and keep him from thinking of anything else. He tried to engrain the feel of her body into his mind. When she pulled away, he longed to kiss her lips. He bit down on his tongue.
‘Perhaps … perhaps you could come by again,’ she said.
He smiled. ‘Yes, perhaps I will.’
‘Goodbye, Marcus.’
She walked down the brick steps to the grass and met Max there, ruffling the fur on his stomach until he kicked out his legs, beckoning a laugh from her lips.
‘It’s great to see her happy, isn’t it?’ Dane said from the doorway.
‘It is,’ Marcus replied, tearing his eyes away from her.
‘Thanks for coming.’
‘Pleasure.’
Dane led him down the hall and opened the front door, allowing the scent of roses to trickle in. Marcus knew he’d never be able to smell the flowers again without thinking of her.
Dane shook his hand, his grip strong in the man-to-man exchange, and smiled as he said goodbye, revealing perfectly straight teeth that made Marcus smile back with closed lips to hide his own. He could see it now, the charm Dane had with women, and a sudden thought anchored in him: he wished he hadn’t followed the sound of handcuffs rattling against the radiator and had left the apartment instead; maybe then he might have stood a chance with Naomi. He scolded himself by digging his fingernails into his palms.
At least she’s happy, he thought as he made his way back to the car. Even if it isn’t with you.
He sat behind the wheel, enveloped by the suffocating heat trapped inside the car, reluctant to leave the past behind. He would never see her again, but it was for the best.
Grow up, Campbell, he told himself as he started the engine and lowered the windows, allowing the summer breeze to sweep through.
He pulled out of the drive, turned onto the secluded country lane and promised to try not to think of her on the journey home.
SEVENTY
Dane watched the car pull out of the driveway and stood there for a few minutes after it had gone, just in case Marcus returned. Marcus was in love with Naomi, that he knew. He had seen it from the kitchen as he watched them through the window. The detective’s eyes had looked at her longingly, his feelings lost on her, but not on Dane. It made him feel powerful knowing that he had something, or someone, that another man wanted. The feeling was almost as powerful as taking another person’s life. Almost.
He had been nervous about having the detective inside the house, but the moment he saw Marcus on the doorstep, and the jealousy in his eyes, he knew that the other man wouldn’t be able to look past Dane’s luck and Naomi’s face. He knew he’d got away with murder.
He stood at the window and reflected on how he had got to where he was now, in a life he had once only dreamed of having. The murders, the police investigation, the hell he and Naomi had gone through, it had all started with Hayley Miller.
He had given her everything he had, and still she’d broken his heart, sleeping with half the town and teasing him with a baby that could have been his. He had swallowed down his anger as she shared her body with his friends, and longed for the day when she would return to him, once she got it out of her system; but when she had told him about the baby, the baby that could have been his or Blake’s, he knew what he had to do.
She had met him that night. He had given her one last chance to redeem herself, to understand that he couldn’t stand by and watch another man raise his child. He had hoped that when she saw how much he was willing to sacrifice for her, she would finally give her heart to him just as he had given her his. But when he vowed to quit studying and find a job right away so that he could care for her and the baby, she pulled away. There was no way she could have the baby, she said; her father would kill them both if he ever found out. When he suggested that they run away, she refused. She wouldn’t give up anything for him or their child. She wanted her own life, the freedom to hop from bed to bed in search of the love that Dane was there to give.
But she didn’t want his love; he was merely a distraction until she found what, or who, she was really looking for. He had been used. Finally he saw her for what she was. She didn’t have to spell it out for him; he had seen the pity in her eyes. But that pity had soon flashed to fear, which proved to him that she understood what he was capable of, and that she had underestimated him from the very beginning. He wasn’t a gullible boy, easily used and discarded; he was a man with a heart capable of love so strong it seared, and in turn, unimaginable hate.
He had watched the look in her eyes change as he pulled out the knife, with the sun setting in the blade. She apologised, begged for his forgiveness until tears filled her eyes; she told him the baby was his, that they could have the life he spoke about. She spoke so fast, so pleadingly, that spit flew from her lips and her words stammered together. But he had seen through her, through the manipulation, the vindictiveness, the lies.
He ran the knife across her throat until blood filled her mouth and silenced her screams. The blood had spoiled the back of his car and dripped up the gravel driveway as he dragged her body through to the garden, where he dug her grave deep into the night.
His mother had forgiven him for what she had witnessed, and vowed to keep his secret as long as he never hurt another girl again. It had always been the two of them together. Deep down, Dane knew that she would forgive him anything to keep from being alone.
He’d promised he wouldn’t hurt anyone else – that was, until Cassie Jennings told him that she and Amber O’Neill were investigating Hayley’s disappearance.
He hadn’t meant to sleep with Cassie again, but after a while, the sight of Josie had brought back all the hate he’d had for her sister. They had the same eyes, the same lips, the same laugh. He had enjoyed being with Josie at first – it had been like a fresh start, washing away the mistakes Hayley had made – but the more he looked at her, the more he saw her sister staring back at him. Cassie gave him the distraction he needed, but her problem was that she liked to talk. She always said too much.
Cassie was ambitious, had her eyes set on London in the hope of working for one of the nationals, and would do anything to get there. By discovering the truth of Hayley Miller’s disappearance, she would become a legend and would be offered jobs by all the big newspapers. And with her friend Amber O’Neill working alongside her, they had access to police files and were able to look behind closed doors, doors other journalists could never open. They already knew too much, knew more than Dane in some respects. It was from Cassie that he learned what Blake and their friends had done to Hayley two nights before Dane killed her.
Cassie and Amber were determined to unearth the truth.
So they had to die.
After Cassie was found, he knew that Amber would either stop looking into the case to protect herself, or continue with renewed determination. Either way, he knew he couldn’t take any chances. The past had been buried with Hayley twenty years before. There was no way he could allow Amber to dig it back up again. So he followed her home.
Then Naomi had stumbled down the alley.
Her arrival had felt like a meeting of fates. She could be his again if he did it right. After two years, it seemed she was growing stronger without him. To get her back, he had to break her down again. She had to see that living alone was dangerous, and that without him, she could fall victim to someone evil. Everything he’d done, from taunting her in the alley to rearranging the furniture in her house, had all been for her – for both of them.
Max hadn’t been too pleased to see him agai
n. Dane had expected that; after all, he had pummelled a knife handle-deep between the dog’s ribs. But he’d had to take away from Naomi everything that made her strong. If he was to step in and make her realise that she needed him, she had to be at her most vulnerable.
Naomi had been adamant about getting Max back. After days of the dog walking out of a room when Dane walked in, or growling if he got too close, he knew he had to do something before Naomi started to wonder. He fed the animal treats until he got fat, and walked him alone most mornings to build the trust between them, and eventually Max learned to tolerate him, seeing Dane as a source of food and walks in the countryside. But it was clear he would never forget; Dane could see it in the dog’s eyes, the way he watched him as he moved about the house.
He’d thought it was all over after the night in the woods. He had followed Josie out of their apartment that night, had watched her press the bat against Naomi’s head and lead her into the woods. Without thinking, he had let himself into Naomi’s house with his key and taken the nearest knife, not even thinking of the implications. Then he had followed them, watching as Josie had taunted Naomi.
It had been like attacking Hayley all over again. Josie’s blood had sprayed in his eyes and blinded him. He had staggered through the woods, trying to find Naomi to bring her home safely. But he’d still had time to plant the watch. After learning what Blake had done to Hayley, he felt no remorse for framing him for murder. It was the least he deserved. He had kept the photo of the four of them, Hayley, Grace, Blake and himself, in the shoebox of Naomi’s belongings, hidden beneath the bed he and Josie shared. If the police couldn’t follow the trail to Blake on their own, he would send it the station anonymously. In the end, Josie had taken it right to them.
But he did have regrets. He regretted bringing Josie into Naomi’s life. He had been so preoccupied with his own secrets that he hadn’t seen Josie unravelling before his eyes, jealousy pumping through her veins, pain and madness simmering beneath the surface. But she was dead now. She couldn’t harm them any more.