I've Been Watching You: a stunning crime thriller from The North East Police Series

by K. A. Richardson

  ‘OK, great. Most of you will now be aware that one of the CSIs, Ben Cassidy, was a victim of this particular killer eight years ago. You may or may not be aware that for whatever reason the killer has chosen to refocus on her. Now whether this is just a passing infatuation, or whether he tries something remains to be seen. He left her a message on her car this morning and slashed all the tyres. She’s currently under protection at her home. It is our priority to get this guy, folks. He’s not a nice man, has killed people up and down the country, but now he’s here, in our town. I want to do everything in our power to make sure it ends here. Any questions?’

  As they shook their heads and filtered out of the room, Ali hung back, taking a moment to himself. The idea he’d had when leaving Ben’s house that morning was that there would be a digital footprint to follow. He would call up Ed at digital forensics and get things moving.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  18th June, 1805 hours – O’Byrne residence, Sunderland

  ‘Really? That’s great, sweetheart… OK, you be good for Aunty Aoife and give her lots of cuddles from me.’ Ben hung up the phone, and realised she had tears in her eyes. This was the first night Grace had been away from home without her, and she missed her. That coupled with the fact there was a murderous monster after her for the second time had made her emotions go up and down like a rollercoaster. One minute she was afraid, then she was determined, then she was sad. Hell, she’d even experienced mild jealousy as she’d watched Jacob focus intently on a piece of work he was doing. His face had been calm but he’d been sizzling with anticipation as he’d methodically worked his way through the copy hard-drive he’d brought with him.

  Sighing in frustration, Ben swiped at her eyes. An eyelash dislodged fixed itself to her iris and her eye began streaming.

  ‘Ow, crap,’ she muttered, turning to go to the sink intending to rinse it under running water. She didn’t even know Jacob was there until she smacked into his chest. He steadied her and looked at her with concern as she blinked furiously, trying to control the latest tear threatening to run down her cheek.

  ‘Let me see,’ said Jacob, removing her hand from her face and leaning forward. Carefully, he held her eye lids open and saw the problem. ‘You trust me, right?’

  His voice was soft, and his breath floated across the skin on her face like silk. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Jacob raised his hand and used his little finger, gently swiping the very end over the outer surface of her eye and catching the stray eyelash on the first try.

  Ben didn’t even feel it, didn’t notice as it stopped watering. She was too caught up looking at Jacob.

  He recognised the look now darkening her eyes from the colour of fresh grass to the green of forest pines. Unable to stop himself, he touched her face. Her tongue nervously dipped onto her bottom lip, making it sheen with moisture. The voice in the back of his mind telling him to stop and that she was vulnerable faded into nothing as he leaned in towards her, hovering millimetres from her mouth with his. He heard her breath catch but she didn’t move. Lost, he allowed his lips to connect to hers, tasting the saltiness of the tears from her cheek. Ben moaned into his mouth, her body leaning forward and finding his as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He could’ve sworn his body was on fire, thousands of hot needles piercing his skin at every point she touched him. Her hands snaked up his back, lightly scratching at him through his t-shirt, and he heard himself groan. Stepping into her, he kept her moving until her lower back impacted with the kitchen side.

  Whoa, you can’t do this. Not now, this isn’t right. She’s vulnerable. Pull away.

  The voice in his head got louder until finally, he broke the kiss and pulled his head back. ‘We can’t do this, Ben. You’re scared, I’d be taking advantage.’

  Ben understood what he was saying, and she appreciated it, but she was squirming where she stood at the thought of him leaving her like this. For once in her life, she needed something, and that something was Jacob.

  She pressed in close to him, placing her lips to his neck. And alternated between planting kisses and whispering, ‘Do … you … think … I’d … let … you … do … anything … I … didn’t … want?’

  Jacob felt his resolve slipping, she had a point, he couldn’t imagine her letting him do anything she didn’t want. And goodness knew, he wanted her. She carried on kissing his neck, and suddenly he felt her grate her teeth across lightly. A bolt of lightning ran through him, and that was it. The voice in his head was no more.

  Bending his head, he captured her mouth, harder this time, his hips grinding into hers.

  Ben had never felt anything like this before; she felt that if she didn’t have him right now, she might actually die. She felt wild, her common sense abandoning her completely as the kiss deepened further. When his hand brushed over her breast, she pulled back and gasped. Jesus! So this is what it’s like. Now it was his mouth on her neck, trailing kisses towards her neck line. Ben felt her hands sneak into his hair as he paused and flicked open the first button on her shirt, and suddenly she froze. My scars! He can’t see my scars, he’ll hate me.

  Jacob sensed the change in her, felt her pull back as the connection ceased. Confused he looked at her. Her cheeks were flushed, desire yes, but there was something else. It took a second for him to register it as apprehension.

  ‘Tell me what’s the matter.’

  ‘My scars,’ she whispered, new tears springing to her eyes. ‘They’re horrible, you’ll see them and run a mile.’

  Incredulous, he gazed at her. ‘Your scars are your battle wounds. You went through something horrific and you survived, those scars are proof of that. I would be the last person on earth to run from scars, trust me.’ At that moment his words registered with him also, all those months of the therapists telling him they were just marks of battle and they didn’t define who he was came flooding back. And for the first time in his life, he felt the spark of belief.

  He leaned back towards Ben and kissed her lightly. ‘This goes at your speed, Ben. But I’m not going anywhere. Besides, my trainers are by the front door.’ He waggled his eyebrows in comedy, and Ben smiled back. Realising she wasn’t convinced, Jacob did the most drastic thing he could think of. Slowly he released his belt, his eyes maintaining contact with hers, and unbuttoned his jeans. Ben’s mouth fell open into a small ‘o’ as he pushed them over his hips and let them fall to the ground.

  Now he was nervous. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. He felt his own cheeks flush with embarrassment. His own scars were now on view, out in the open for her to see. She was the first woman who had. Self-conscious now, he stepped back and went to bend to pull his jeans back up. This was a bad idea. You’re an idiot.

  He felt her hand on his harm, stopping him, and pulling him back up.

  Without saying a word, she gathered her strength and popped the next button on her shirt. If he could do it, when it obviously hurt him to show his scars, she was sure she could. Once all the buttons were undone, and the shirt sides were hanging loosely, she took a deep breath.

  Seeing how nervous she was, Jacob stepped forward to help. He cupped his hands to her face, and captured her mouth in a deep kiss again. He felt her pulse quicken through her fingers which had migrated up his chest to his shoulders. They stood there for several minutes.

  Ben gasped as his mouth left hers and closed swiftly around the tip of one of her breasts, and she knew she couldn’t stop, didn’t want to. Any stray thoughts about her scars vanished and her head tipped backwards, her eyes closed. Her hands linked through his hair and she felt his hands slide up her back and release the clasp on her bra.

  In a deft movement, Jacob lowered her to the floor and resumed kissing her, his hand curled around her breast as his other cupped her cheek. Nothing had ever felt so right.

  18th June, 1830 hours – O’Byrne residence, Sunderland

  Ben laid her head on his chest, unable to stop the grin spreading as she felt his fingers dr
aw shapes on her shoulder. ‘Next time though, maybe we should at least try to make it upstairs?’

  Jacob kissed her head, and teased. ‘Next time huh, once not enough for you?’

  ‘Don’t think I’ll ever get enough. You’ll just have to stay a while.’ Her tone was light, but he read between the lines. Right now she was vulnerable, exposed.

  ‘I’m not going anywhere.’ He kissed her head again, then pushed her so he could turn on his side and look at her. ‘Seriously, I have no intention of going anywhere. Even before … this’ he gently ran his hand down her side causing her skin to prickle, ‘I knew we had something special. It doesn’t come along every day. You’re the only woman who has ever seen my scars, accepted me for who I am without question, and hasn’t tried to avoid touching me. I am not going anywhere.’

  Ben smiled at his words. They were exactly what she needed to hear. ‘Maybe we should get dressed, I’ll make some dinner and maybe we can snuggle up on the couch and watch a movie?’

  ‘Don’t know that we’ll get much watching done, but sure,’ he replied, his voice a little husky as he ran his eyes down her body.

  18th June, 2340 hours – O’Byrne residence, Sunderland

  Stan stood in the shadows of the rhododendron bushes in the corner of the back garden. Climbing into the garden over the fence that separated the nearest neighbour from Ben’s house had been easy. He’d already scoped the area out; knew that the old woman would be in bed fast asleep, as most old people were at this time of night.

  He knew the cops were positioned right outside the front gates, and that they were closed. He was only there to look though, he would kill them when the time was right but that wasn’t this evening. Tonight the desire to see her had been too strong for him to deny. He’d managed to find a lot of information relating to him, Jacob, before he left though. Much of his service record was sealed, and there were too many people he stayed in contact with for Stan to ascertain which one had the aunt and child.

  Hate for the man who had stolen his student burned in his gut – he would make him wish he’d never been born. He’d seen Jacobs honourable discharge from service due to injuries received, and read about the Military Cross Jacob had been presented with on his return to the UK – if he hadn’t used the hand sign many more of his men would have died, the paperwork said. Stan had even managed to hack into Jacob’s medical files, had read about his injuries and extensive surgery and rehab. He would make him pay for stealing Ben. What gave him the right to encroach on another man’s territory?

  Stan had sat in his computer room, listening to the pair canoodle on the sofa. It had almost made him feel sick. When he’d left his house half an hour ago, he knew he just had to see her. Just a glimpse.

  He felt his heart quicken as the kitchen light turned on and suddenly she was there. He wanted to step out from behind the bushes and go to her, start teaching her that she should never have survived, teach her that she should have obeyed him and died as ordered, but he didn’t. Exposing himself now would be foolhardy.

  After all the research he had done on places to take her to resume his work, he had finally realised that this was the perfect location. He would come back in a couple of days, when everyone was in bed. He would disable the two police officers, and disarm the alarm system, and he would resume the lessons she should have learned all those years ago.

  Silently he climbed back over the fence and made his way to his car. A shiver of anticipation made its way down his spine. He’d been searching all along for one to be just like her. Now he had the opportunity to be with her again. This was going to be the best yet.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  19th June, 0805 hours – O’Byrne residence, Sunderland

  Jacob didn’t want to wake up. He was warm and comfortable. Surely it was Saturday and he could just turn over? He opened his eye a crack and suddenly felt the weight of someone sleeping on top of him. Memories came flooding back, and he blushed. He lowered his lips and kissed the top of her head gently.

  She groaned beneath him and snuggled in tighter to his chest, her legs entwined with his. The DVD start screen to Die Hard was repeating quietly on the TV and he had a vague recollection of turning the volume down about half way through when she had fallen asleep. He didn’t remember much of the movie after that so he can’t have been far behind her.

  When Ben lifted her head and smiled at him sleepily, he knew his words from last night were even truer. He wasn’t going anywhere. This, right here, was what he’d been waiting for his entire life. He knew it was too soon to be thinking far ahead, and that Ben may not want a serious addition to her life, but he was here now, and that was enough.

  ‘Morning,’ he said, moving his head and brushing her lips with his.

  ‘I can’t believe we fell asleep in the middle of Die Hard. Who does that? Bruce Willis isn’t exactly quiet when he kicks arse.’ She coughed a little, ridding her voice of the morning hoarseness.

  ‘I thought the same thing. Coffee?’

  ‘Oh God yes, I can’t go through the morning without my morning shot.’

  ‘You stay here and laze, I’ll make it.’

  Ben moved and he swung his legs over the edge of the sofa. He managed to stand without grimacing, despite the shooting pain down his leg. The fall when he’d caught her fainting, coupled with their love-making on the kitchen floor had made his leg seize up. He registered her looking at him in concern and realised he’d failed to hide his discomfort.

  ‘It’s fine, just twinging. Next time though, definitely the bed.’ He leaned forward and kissed her again, rescued his stick from its resting place half under the sofa and left the room.

  19th June, 1005 hours –Major Incident Room, Sunderland City Centre Depot

  ‘Ed, I understand what you’re saying. But this guy must have a digital footprint. He’s avoided being caught all these years because he does something, manipulates the system somehow, I dunno. You’re seriously telling me that until we have more information you can’t trace him?’ Ali’s frustration came through as he spoke to Jacob’s boss on the phone.

  ‘Ali, it’s not that I don’t want to help. We have cases spanning the last year backed up in here waiting to be dealt with. This one will be put to the top of the list as soon as I have something definite to go on. You don’t even have the guy’s name. Call me as soon as you have information I can work with.’

  Ali sighed as he replaced the receiver carefully. Carefully because if he didn’t check his temper he might well have smashed it right through the desk.

  He knew this guy was closing in and was doing something that hid his identity, but he’d be darned if he had the knowhow to stop him.

  He didn’t want this to be one of those cases where the facts weren’t known until it was too late. It was his responsibility to save Ben, and right now he had jack shit with which to do it.

  Pushing back his chair, he stood, intending to go downstairs to speak with Kevin. The crime scene was due to be handed back over today. The clean-up crew was already making the centre look as if nothing had ever happened. But it had. Surely Clarice would provide something else. She had to. He also knew the CSIs had recovered some fingerprints from Jacob and Ben’s cars. Hopefully they’d have come back from the submissions team.

  He was lost in thought as he made his way towards the door, and didn’t see Charlie heading towards him purposefully until she was under his nose.

  ‘Boss. I have the birth certificates. Our guy was named Mitchell Gordon Brown, twin to John Francis Brown who later changed his name to Whitworth. I’ve already checked with social and they have no trace of Mitchell claiming benefits or paying national insurance since he turned twenty one – I haven’t managed to trace anything since but it’s not exactly my forte. Maybe that techy guy, Ed what-his-name, can work his magic now?’

  Ali couldn’t stop the smile. ‘You are a bloody genius. Well done, Charlie.’

  ‘I’m heading over to Clarice’s house with Jason now. We’ll
have a chat with Gill, go over her bedroom with a tooth comb, see if there’s anything that would indicate why she was targeted. It’s my gut feeling she knew the guy, but without proof that’s just a thought.’

  ‘OK, great. Thanks, Charlie.’ He took the slip of paper and put it in his pocket. He would head over to HQ the second he had finished talking to Kevin.

  He still hadn’t managed to erase the smile when he walked into the Supervisors office in the CSI corridor.

  ‘Hey, boss,’ greeted Kevin, waving his arm towards the vacant seat. ‘Take a load off. Just give me a sec to finish this statement paragraph and I’ll be with you.’

  Tapping away slowly on the keyboard, he held his lower lip between his teeth in concentration. He hated statements. There had been a time when prosecutors and the CPS hadn’t needed the ins and outs of a fart to get the job done. Now they did, and it made his statements even more time consuming.

  Finally though, he looked up at Ali. ‘How can I help you?’

  ‘Just checking in really. The clean-up crew are at the centre today. I wanted to say good job to your staff: if they hadn’t been as thorough then we may have needed the scene for longer. Any additional evidence come to light yet? I’m heading over to see her mother and guardian later today. I want to be able to say “we’ll get the guy.”’

  ‘Nothing as yet. I was going to phone the fingerprint lab later and see if anything’s pinged from the prints lifted from the wing of Jacob’s car. They said they’d rush it through but it was waiting on quality checking at close of play last night. Is Ben OK?’

  ‘She’s holding up. Can’t say many other people would be as calm in her position. Jacob’s staying with her at her aunts. We’ve got two guys stationed outside 24/7. I’ve got a lead on a potential name so I’m heading over the HQ now to see what Ed can do.’

  ‘Well a name’s a good start. We’ll catch up later today.’