Hunted: A Suspense Collection

by J. L. Drake

  In view of his aggressive tendencies, the court had issued him with an ultimatum. Either visit a psychologist and work on his issues or three to five in minimum security. Jerry chose her and she had spent a year trapped inside her office with him one hour a week until his sentence was up. Whether they had made any progress was still lost to her. Unprofessionally, she was happy to see him go.

  Natalie placed Jerry’s file on top of Peter’s. Once she was done going through all her old files they would be taken down to the basement and archived. It was procedure to keep the files for several years before they could be destroyed.

  One by one, Natalie went through the old files. She found it was kind of like looking through old photo albums and going down memory lane. She could imagine her patients before her, reciting their issues to her to solve. She could remember the problem ones or the ones she seemed to help. Others were faces lost in a crowd. She hated that but was realistic. Natalie knew she couldn’t save everyone. It was kind of like war, she reflected. You pray when you go you don’t lose any of your team, but in truth you knew you would be bringing some home in body bags.

  It took another three hours and countless mugs of coffee to see the end of the pile and she jumped up and down rejoicing the moment the last file was placed on top of the pile to go to the basement.

  Natalie leaned back in her chair, kicking her shoes off before placing the heels of her feet on her desk and dug around her desk drawer for her emergency packet of cashews. She started chewing on them as she enjoyed her brief down-time. She thought about her previous cases and then about the Butcher. Her mind always seemed to fall back to him.

  Her professional brain couldn’t help wonder what had brought him on this path of murder and butchery. What happened to him that had caused him to act this way? Was he abused as a child? Not that it was an excuse, of course, one she certainly didn’t allow. Many people throughout the country were abused when they were children, but not all of them turned out to be horrific serial killers.

  Had he started off by torturing young children or defenceless pets? Was there someone out there who’d seen his sickening behaviour and chose to ignore it? She shook her head. As much as her profession relied on getting into people’s heads, she had no such desire to delve inside the mind of a murderer, even if it could help the case. The Butcher was different and she knew if she was to delve into his mind she might not return safely and certainly not without scars or psychoses.

  Over her years as a psychologist, Natalie had met some colleagues who had done just that. They had ventured inside prisons around the country and some even around the world and had interviewed serial killers. Natalie marvelled at their bravery or stupidity, whichever way you looked at it. She certainly wouldn’t be able to do it. She had enough nightmares in her life. She didn’t feel the need to add more of someone else’s. She had even tried to read a report one of her classmates had written on one of the country’s worst offenders. Natalie had read the first chapter and then put it down. There had been no need or reason to subject herself to that darkness.

  She sighed when she heard her computer beep, interrupting her thoughts as it reminded her an appointment was due. She opened up her calendar and looked at the name. Her mind flashed to the day she had met Matt.

  She felt a shiver of excitement go through her at the thought of Matt. When she was near him, she felt a sizzle of awareness and she had found herself staring at his lips once or twice. She wondered how they would feel against her own, how he would taste. She felt her body go warm as desire flowed through her.

  At that moment her office door opened and Henry Rellet stood hesitating in the doorway. Natalie pushed all thoughts of Matt, and his body, out of her mind. She had other things to think about right now and she couldn’t afford to be side-tracked, even by thoughts of the very sexy detective.

  She waved Henry in. Cautiously, as if half expecting something to jump out at him, he made his way towards her. He took his seat and sat poised on the edge of the plush leather chair as if at any minute he would need to run. She had noticed before that he never really did relax in her presence as much as she made it a ‘calm and safe’ place.

  Henry was a normal enough person in her estimation. His clothes were bland—often beige, cream or an off-white. He was one of those people no one ever really noticed and if they did, tended to forget as soon as he was gone from their sights. His honey-blond hair was gelled down and brushed to one side and she wondered if even a hurricane could dislodge one strand. For some reason it looked odd on his head, not quite suiting his skin tone. His light blue eyes watched her carefully.

  Natalie waited patiently. She knew Henry had his own timetable and wouldn’t or at least couldn’t be rushed. Henry spent his time talking to her about his day to day life. He had what he called a ‘time consuming and demanding’ job and liked to be able to relax with her as he was a different person outside her office. Most people treated her like a sounding board, someone to listen to their thoughts whether they wanted to hear her input or not. Some people just wanted to get secrets off their chests and she was their own private confessional.

  “Well, I’ve been seeing another woman. She’s just right for me,” Henry declared.

  Natalie nodded. Each visit he always told her he had found ‘the one’ only to tell her the next time the woman had left. She wondered what he was doing to push them away. She looked back over her notes and counted the failed relationships. He was in double digits now. She figured he must come on too hard and fast or smother them. There was no way he could be that unlucky in love.

  “She’s perfect. All blonde hair and blue eyes. She’s definitely the one.”

  “What about your last girlfriend—”

  She broke off trying to remember the woman’s name. Natalie consulted her file but couldn’t find it. Had she been having an off day and not recorded it? She was usually more thorough than this. Patients liked it when she could recall details like that at the drop of a hat. It made them feel important that someone actually cared about the small things.

  As she flicked through Henry’s file she realised she hadn’t once recorded any of his girlfriends’ names. She had, however, made a note about there being one and her occupation which she found odd. Henry might not like to name names but he had no problems with telling her what they did for a living.

  She found the last ‘GF’ notation and read the job title. “The hospital worker?”

  Henry nodded. “She just wasn’t good enough. I had to get rid of her.”

  Natalie frowned. She wondered what the girl had done to deserve the boot. It wasn’t as if Henry could afford to be picky. He was attractive enough. His personality left a lot to be desired, but then she only saw one side of him. He had mentioned that he was different away from her office. What did she know? Perhaps he was mesmerising and assertive? Or played in a rock band.

  “And how long ago was that?”

  Henry smiled and she shivered. She had never seen him smile before and the small action changed his face. Gone was the affable man and in his place was a man not quite right. He gave her the creeps but he wasn’t the only one.

  Natalie made a note to research any treatment he might have had previously. Someone who could change their entire demeanour in a second certainly couldn’t have stayed off some mental health professional’s radar for long.

  “A couple of days,” he said nonchalantly and she watched his facial muscles mould back into the face of the man she had thought boring.

  Natalie felt her eyebrow rise. He really didn’t like to be alone. While as a professional she prided herself on being non-judgemental, she couldn’t help it. She was human, after all, and a couple days from one woman to the next cried monophobia.

  “That seems rather sudden. Are you sure it is love and that you’re not rebounding? What did you say her name was?”

  Natalie watched him flinch as if she had struck him. His face darkened and he visibly fought for control. The cords tightened
in his throat and she thought she saw a muscle tick under pressure. This wasn’t a side of Henry Rellet she’d seen before. Obviously he only liked talking about himself and not having his choices questioned or commented on.

  “I didn’t say I loved her. I said she’s the one,” he replied when he had calmed down.

  She didn’t comment on the fact that he hadn’t answered the question about the woman’s name and let it slide. She had no plans on sending her patient into a rage. Not that it didn’t happen, but if she could avoid it she did. Natalie admitted she wasn’t the best person when it came to dealing with male anger and the few times a patient had lost it she had cowered, stricken with fear until the building’s security team had arrived and removed her enraged patient.

  “Well, I’m very happy for you, Henry. I just caution you on taking things too fast. Take the time to allow the relationship to mature.”

  That is good advice, she thought, thinking of Matt.

  Henry nodded. He sat with both feet firmly planted on the ground, his hands clasped together on his lap. It unnerved her.

  “I will, Doctor Miller. She is very special. I will take my time with her.”

  Henry left and once again Natalie was alone in her office. She stood and made her way to the computer and sat down in her comfortable chair with the best back support money could buy and added her notes from the day’s session into Henry’s electronic file. As she saved the document she looked over at the tower of files and groaned. She hated filing, and archiving her files required going down to the basement, which was something else she hated doing. She thought fleetingly to ask her receptionist to do it for her but after looking at the clock on the wall she knew Lara would have gone home some time ago.

  Natalie decided against leaving them for her tomorrow. It wouldn’t take much time and it would be one less thing waiting for her in the morning. As she slowly made her way to the elevator, Natalie hoped she didn’t run into an Occupational Health and Safety officer, otherwise it would be her arse. She really should have gotten a trolley. She reflected as she struggled to hit the call button. After juggling her load around, she cursed her impatient self. The files were not only awkward but heavy. Before she could scold herself again, the elevator arrived and she stepped inside.

  The basement was dark, with only a naked bulb giving off any light at all. She was hit full force with the dank, mouldy air that came from the unventilated room where she had several filing cabinets stored. She sneezed as she breathed in the dust lingering in the air.

  Natalie quickly filed away her patient’s records, the darkness and late hour making the storage area seem eerie and sinister. When she was done, Natalie took the stairs, something she only did once every blue moon. But she usually had good reason to take the elevator, sometimes carrying armfuls of files or wearing killer heels. But she decided as a health—albeit mental health—professional she needed to set a good example. She was puffing by the time she made it to her third floor office and reflected on how out of shape she was.

  Over the years, Natalie had been so focused on school and getting her master’s and graduating that she had no time for other activities and then she had gone into the work force and had spent all her time and energy creating a name for herself and ensuring her business didn’t tank.

  Now that she was finally comfortable and settling down into a nice routine, perhaps a gym membership would go a long way. She had been quite lucky with her genes, notwithstanding her mother’s faults. She was born with an athletic body and a fast metabolism so she hadn’t had to spend much time watching what went in her mouth. Although in her younger years running from her stepfather was probably what had kept her in shape, she thought with a sneer.

  Natalie looked at the clock on her desk. The time was just past seven. Usually, she stayed at the office until nine, always managing to find something to research, but tonight she was going to treat herself and go home early. Maybe even catch up on sleep. Natalie grabbed her purse from her desk drawer and walked over to the elevator, punching the down button. There was no way in hell she could make it down the three flights of stairs.

  She thought about pouring herself a glass of wine and watching a movie or starting one of the paperbacks she’d bought over the years but never had the time to read before she headed off to bed. She had three back to back appointments in the morning and wanted to be fresh.

  Natalie stepped into the elevator carriage, imagining her evening to come. She never saw the man lurking around the corner, watching her, waiting for the perfect opportunity.

  Chapter 14

  Natalie stepped out onto the street. Spring was in full force, the weather warmer and the days longer. In winter, she hated her building since there was no underground or close by parking, requiring her to park a block away. At night, the walk which usually only took three minutes, depending on what shoes she wore, always seemed longer. Her eyes were forever vigilant, her keys digging in her palms as she was ready to strike at any unsuspecting would-be thieves, carjackers, or rapists. Not that Harbour Bay was a hub of criminal activity, at least not the area she lived and worked in, but with the Butcher in town it would pay to keep an eye open.

  Tonight, the walk was brisk and she felt her body begin to relax. Henry’s reaction to her questioning still ran through her mind and she tried to make sense of it. Sure, some people got their backs up when they didn’t like being told something, but this was a transformation she rarely saw.

  Natalie frowned. If Henry made a change like that in a manner of seconds, like flicking on a switch, then there was something shimmering below the surface that she might not be able to treat. He had scared her and she thought momentarily about informing him she could no longer accept him as a patient as she did with all her clients that frightened her to this point, but she decided against it. How did she expect to be able to heal herself if she kept running from her own issues?

  Natalie reached her car and climbed behind the wheel and automatically locked her doors. Even out of Coleani’s neighbourhood, it was best to remove temptation from those who would take advantage. Natalie felt that throughout her whole life she had been fighting to stay safe, whether from Gary or some unseen force. Her safety was always first and foremost in her mind. She didn’t like to be a victim and certainly didn’t plan on becoming one again.

  She started up her car and after a quick look out the rear view mirror, pulled into traffic. After a few minutes she was engrossed in the latest new release from Katy Perry and happily singing along.

  It was a few minutes later, when Natalie glanced at her side mirrors, that she spotted him. He was driving a white sedan. It was nondescript, but she was certain he was following her. She made a few turns she normally wouldn’t and wasn’t surprised when the sedan kept up. He wasn’t being obvious about following her but she was certain he was.

  Her heart sped up and her palms became damp. Natalie couldn’t see the driver, not from this distance but she was certain it was a man, his features blurred. She grabbed her phone and while weaving in and out of traffic she dialled the emergency number, triple 0. The first thought that skittered across her mind was that the Butcher had yet to be caught. Her foot stamped down harder on the accelerator on its own accord and her breath caught in her throat as her follower did the same.

  The emergency operator came onto the line and shakily, Natalie relayed that she was sure someone was following her. She tried to keep the panic from her voice but in the end doubted she had accomplished that.

  The trained operator immediately began giving directions on how Natalie should handle the situation, the first being finding a public place. Without endangering the other motorists on the road Natalie managed to cut across two lanes of traffic and pulled into the off-road service station, stopping at a pump. She undid her seatbelt and hastily got out of the car. At this time of night the BP was packed with travelling families and truck drivers filling up before their shift. She looked over at the entrance to see the sedan follow her i
n.

  Natalie squeezed the phone hard. Her stomach knotted and her inner voice told her to run. In her ear, the emergency operator was encouraging her, the words going in one ear and out the other as Natalie focused on not releasing her bladder. Her gaze flicked side to side in panic as the sedan pulled to a stop at a pump across from her and the driver got out.

  He wouldn’t be so stupid to make a move here, surely?

  No, he wouldn’t do that, she thought. You’re just overreacting and what do you expect from reading too many police files lately?

  The man probably just needed petrol and following her was a coincidence, she lied to herself. So what if there were easier ways of getting there than the one she took?

  Her panic became full blown and she tried to tell the operator what was happening but when she opened her mouth nothing but a squeak came out. Natalie backed away from her car, preparing to run. How she planned on doing that in three inch heels, she didn’t know, but she quickly glanced at the ground, checking to see if the path was clear from where she stood to inside the service station. She could make it if she ran real fast or if she managed to find her voice, could scream and have every eye on her in a second. As much as she hated being in the spotlight, she could make an exception.

  If all else failed, she could always stab him with her stiletto. The man turned around. Her eyes locked on him and refused to leave.

  Derek Butler looked back at her and winked, a cruel smile curving his lips. Anger replaced fear and she remembered what she had thought the night Derek had shown his true colours. He was an escalator and he was now proving her correct. She mentally smacked her head as she remembered she had planned on reporting him to police. She had become side-tracked and then had completely forgotten about filing the report.