The Darkness Beneath Page 3

  Balancing the grocery bags between her left arm and knee, Nell unlocked the front door, the stale waft of mothballs and neglect hitting her. Leaving the door open she made her way past the reception desk and down the long hallway to the kitchen. Behind her came a banging noise and she swung around, heart in mouth as a couple of cans toppled from one of the bags, crashing to the floor. The hallway was empty. Nothing was out of place. She glanced at the open front door for a moment, her mouth dry, half expecting Caleb to appear.

  ‘Hello? Is anyone there?’

  There was no response and she immediately felt foolish. Of course no one was there. She was in an old house that groaned and creaked, and lack of sleep, together with her anxieties about leaving Caleb, were making her paranoid and jumpy. Bending down she retrieved the cans from the floor and slipped them back in the sack. During her grocery trip she had purchased a new coffeemaker. She would get it working, have a cup of coffee to sooth her frazzled nerves, then start giving the house the clean it desperately needed. It was all good.

  *

  She had nearly seen him.

  As he made his way round to the rear of the house and into the woods, back towards where he had left his car, he grinned at their close encounter and his lucky escape. Of course, he could have told her he was stopping by to welcome her back to the island, but it would still beg the question of how he had gotten into the house and what he was doing there. He didn’t want to unnecessarily rouse her suspicions. The less Nell O’Connor knew the better.

  If things became a problem then he would take care of it.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Alex Cutler could hear the yelling before he had even entered Purity Police Department. He recognized both voices. Jenna Milborn, mad as hell and swearing a blue streak, while one of his deputies, Tommy Dolan, tried to reason over the top of her. Alex knew Jenna’s husband, Curtis, was in the holding cell, having received a late night call from Tommy asking how long he should keep him.

  ‘Let him sweat it out,’ had been Alex’s response. ‘I’ll deal with him when I get in.’

  Curtis was steaming drunk when Tommy had arrested him and by now would be nursing a monster hangover. Alex purposely took a longer route on his morning run, an extra ten minutes in the shower, figuring he would drag out Curtis’s torment for as long as possible.

  He pushed open the reception door, coffee cups in hand, heading down the corridor by the front desk towards the main office. Ruby, his receptionist, wasn’t in yet and he would have Curtis and Jenna out of the way before her shift started, knowing she’d gone to school with Jenna and would find the encounter awkward.

  Jenna rounded on him as he entered the office, hands on hips, her perfume overpowering the room. ‘Chief Cutler, please have a word with your deputy. Curtis has been locked up all night and didn’t do a damn thing wrong.’ It wasn’t the first time the woman insisted on defending her loser husband and it wouldn’t be the last. Alex clocked the darkening bruise on her red tear-stained cheek, careful to keep his temper in check. He handed one of the coffees to Tommy.

  ‘How’d you get the bruise, Jenna?’

  ‘I tripped over the dog.’

  ‘Again?’

  ‘Damn mutt’s always getting in the way.’

  ‘And if it wasn’t the dog, I guess it would have been the door or the wall or the stairs.’

  ‘What can I say? I’ve got two left feet.’ Although Jenna glared at him, she had the good grace to look away when Alex raised a questioning brow. ‘You had no right to keep Curtis locked up all night.’

  ‘One of your neighbors called it in.’ Tommy piped up. ‘People were worried. Curtis was drunk and mad, and he was threatening you. It was for your own safety.’

  Jenna snorted. ‘Oh, I know who. That nosy bitch Polly Rosenberg. She needs to learn to mind her own business. Curtis had a few beers and he gets a little overexcitable is all. It’s nothing I can’t handle and I sure as hell don’t need you interfering in our marriage.’

  ‘So you’re not going to press charges?’

  ‘Why the hell would I press charges? I told you he didn’t do this. I tripped over the dog.’

  Alex took a drag of his coffee and studied her, sympathy softening his anger. He guessed she had been pretty once; her copper hair framing an angular face, with cheekbones now too gaunt to be striking, her pale blue eyes hard when they had likely once been soft. Harsh lines cut around her eyes and mouth, making her look older than her twenty-eight years. He had only ever known Jenna as Curtis Milborn’s wife. He doubted she had been this bitter before she had met him.

  ‘You’re gonna have to one day, Jenna. You think you can handle him, but one day he’ll take things too far and we won’t be around to help you.’

  She shook her head defiantly, face twisted with anger. ‘You think you know me? You know nothing about me. Now let my husband out of that damn cell.’ Alex gave her a lingering look, frustrated she wouldn’t let them help her.

  ‘What you want to do, Chief?’ Tommy sounded hesitant. It was uncomfortable for him too. Like Ruby, he had gone to high school with Jenna. ‘You want me to fetch him out?’

  Alex shook his head. ‘No. I’ll get him.’ He angled a look at Jenna. ‘I need a chat with him before he’s released.’

  *

  Seeing the guesthouse in daylight, beams of sunlight highlighting the dust and cobwebs, the months of neglect, Nell realized it was going to need a lot more than a damn good clean. Carpets needed replacing, walls needed plastering, and the roof needed retiling. It crossed her mind she could always sell the place. There had been a buyer interested when she had taken it off the market. Perhaps she would be better with a smaller house or apartment, something that didn’t require so much work? For now she set about making the place habitable. The kitchen came first and while she set to work with bleach and detergent, the washing machine hummed with sheets and towels. Nell had purchased a radio in town and the station she had tuned in to was knocking out hits from the seventies and eighties, making her feel less alone. Silence reminded her of the home she had shared with Caleb back in Chicago. She wouldn’t have it here.

  It was dusk when she finally stopped. The kitchen was clean, the groceries stored away, and her bed remade with fresh linen. There was a long way to go, but it was a start. Starving hungry, but too exhausted to cook, Nell threw a frozen pizza into the oven and poured herself a glass of wine. While she waited for her dinner she took the stairs to the third floor, which she’d yet to explore. The hallway led to four of the former guest rooms and she gave each a perfunctory glance before making her way up the narrow attic staircase. This room had always been Nell’s favorite and although Bella had only used it for storage, the two wide windows built into the roof afforded stunning views out over the ocean. Whenever she wanted to be alone she had snuck up to the attic and climbed out on to the roof. Even as a child she had been able to appreciate the beauty of nature, the forest green of the pine trees cutting a path along the cliff, the pale sand of the beach a stark contrast to the rugged jutting rocks that disappeared into the sea. The ocean never failed to hold her attention and she loved its moods, loved how the calm crystal waves gently lapping against the sand could become wild in an instant. The scent of the sea never changed though, its wonderful saltiness permeating her senses.

  She unlocked the door, expecting the room to still be filled with junk. She wasn’t disappointed. Junk could be cleared though and this wide airy space would make a perfect studio, especially when the morning sun cut a beam of light across the attic floor. Clearing a path through the junk she found the window covered in a film of dust. Nell traced her finger over it before trying the catch. It took a hard shove, but the window opened and the sound of the ocean filled the room – the salty air mixing with the mustiness – and a thousand childhood memories returned.

  With the memories returned the longing to paint, something she hadn’t felt in a while.

  Before she had met Caleb, Nell had felt a need to tell
a story on canvas. He had quashed the free-spirited nature of her artwork and made it all about profit; her work had become a chore to the point where she loathed picking up a paintbrush. The old excitement, the need to create burning inside her, brought a heady rush. By leaving Caleb she had no choice but to sacrifice her career, knowing she had to disappear completely so he could never find her. It didn’t mean she had to give up painting though. She could still do it. Do it for herself. And hopefully now she was free of him, the magic would return.

  She spent a few minutes at the window, wineglass in hand, watching the sun set against pink hues in the dusky sky, streams of silver flickering across the calm ocean surface. A few boats were still out. It was still September and people would be making the most of the mild weather before winter took hold.

  Her belly grumbled, reminding her the pizza was in the oven. Reluctantly closing the window she turned to leave the attic. As she made her way past the boxes she had moved to clear a path to the window, she spotted something on the wall. Curious, she crossed the room and knelt down. It was ink and Nell recognized the writing as belonging to Clarke.

  The name was repeated five times, the writing in block capitals becoming more aggressive as it trailed further down the wall. Nell frowned; she didn’t remember anyone here with that name. It was definitely Clarke’s writing so maybe she was a friend or a girlfriend? Her cousin had always been so awkward and shy around girls though. Perhaps she had been a guest he’d had a crush on, or maybe she had worked at the guesthouse? Puzzled, she went downstairs to get her pizza.

  SARAH

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The trick was to lure them into accompanying him willingly.

  It would have been easy to follow his prey, to grab them when they least expected, but there was no challenge in that, and it made it less of a game. If he wanted them to come willingly, he had to work for it, to charm them. And that brought with its own satisfaction, a little like foreplay. It also allowed him to see the exact moment where they realized they had been duped, when they understood the flirtation and promise of a fun night was actually a ruse and they were about to fight for their lives. A fight they never won.

  He had been doing this for long enough to know the stakes and understand rules had to be followed. He was a careful man who planned everything out meticulously and never cut corners. He had learned the hard way a long time ago that the tiniest mistake could be his undoing. Like a stone dropping into a lake, the ripple effect reached far and could have devastating consequences. He would never make that mistake again.

  The lady who would be fighting for her life tonight was called Penny.

  He had picked her up in a bar along the marina in a little coastal town called Winchester, learned the guy she was supposed to be hooking up with had let her down and she was drowning her sorrows rather than returning home alone to her apartment.

  Penny was perfect. Slim and tanned, her pretty face framed by a sharp blond bob. She was nursing a margarita when he started talking to her and he could tell from her puffy eyes she had been crying. He bought her three more margaritas and watched her knock them back while nursing his soda. As the alcohol took hold Penny’s tongue loosened and she told him all about her messy break up with her ex-boyfriend and how she had joined a dating site, wanting to find someone, only to be messed around by losers, in particular this latest guy, Dan, who she had met once, but who had now let her down twice at the last minute, claiming he had to work late. Lie or no lie, he figured Dan had had a lucky escape. The more she talked the more he realized Penny was self-absorbed, condescending and overly opinionated. Despite being thirty, she liked to play the ‘poor little me’ card, choosing to blame everyone in her life for her failures. By the third margarita her incessant whiny chatter was grating on him. She was easy pickings and he was going to enjoy snuffing the life out of her.

  When she was suitably drunk, enough to dull her rational thought process, but not enough for her to pass out on him, he settled the tab, cash of course, and asked the bartender to call her a cab.

  ‘But it’s still early. Why don’t we go on somewhere else?’

  ‘I have to work tomorrow.’

  Never seem too keen. Always make it their idea.

  ‘Me too. It’s not late.’

  ‘Look, you’ve had a few drinks. Why don’t I put you in a cab and maybe we can meet up in a couple of nights.’

  The bartender was listening to the exchange, waiting to know about the cab. That was good.

  ‘Come on, don’t be a killjoy. Why don’t we take the party back to my place? Or yours?’ Penny gave him a hopeful smile. It came across as desperate.

  ‘We only met an hour ago.’

  ‘Are you a prude?’ She poked at him playfully. ‘I’m not.’

  ‘Are you sure it’s not the alcohol talking?’

  Leaning forward she caught a handful of his hair and pressed her mouth against his. He could smell the alcohol on her breath and kept his lips closed, refusing to let her tongue pass. She was too drunk to notice the slight and stepped back victoriously.

  ‘It’s me talking. So, what do you say?’

  He made a show of shrugging helplessly at the bartender. The guy grinned back. They both knew Penny was a sure thing. He faked a charming smile for Penny, before winking at the bartender. ‘I guess you’d better put a hold on the cab.’

  Penny leaned in, traced her fingertip across his moustache then back over his lips. She smiled seductively before leaning in for another kiss.

  ‘I knew you’d come around.’

  Smiling back, the anticipation of slitting her smooth throat ear to ear almost too much to bear, he followed her out of the bar.

  *

  Banging downstairs awoke Nell.

  She had worked hard all day, was dog tired when she crawled into bed, but her mind had been too alert for sleep. After tossing and turning in frustration for close to an hour she had turned on the nightlight and picked up her book, hoping a few chapters might help relax her. It was because of Caleb she was on edge, she knew that. During the day it was easier to believe her plan of escape was going to work, but come night-time the familiar demons came out to play, knocking her confidence and filling her with self-doubt. She guessed it would be a long while before she stopped looking over her shoulder.

  The nightlight was still on, her book on the bed open at the chapter she had been reading when she’d dozed off. At first Nell wondered if she had dreamt the noise, but as she absently rubbed at the cramp in the back of her neck, it came again and she froze, panic searing through her veins. Although she told herself not to overreact, that it was probably something simple and explainable, Caleb’s face loomed in her mind. He had told her he would never let her leave him, but she had foolishly tried.

  Caleb isn’t here. You’re being irrational. Go downstairs and you’ll see.

  Setting the book to one side Nell threw back the comforter and climbed from the bed, her legs rubbery as she crept towards the door. There was no way she was going to fall asleep until she had checked the noise out. She eased the door open, relieved at the dark silence that met her. Not daring to turn on the light she quietly made her way to the bannister, peering over. The only sound that came from below was the ticking of the grandfather clock. She inched her way down the stairs. As she reached the bottom step the banging came again and Nell almost lost her footing. She clung to the stair rail, recognizing the sound as the front door. Nervously edging forward she looked down the hallway, nearly lost it when she spotted the door was wide open.

  She had locked it before going to bed, she knew she had.

  As she contemplated her next move, wanting to lock the door, but scared of what or who might be in the house with her, a figure blocked the doorway. Recognizing the cold perfect white smile, Nell froze.

  ‘I told you I would never let you leave me, you little bitch.’

  Caleb stepped inside the house, kicked the door closed behind him. In his hand he held a knife. As he slow
ly, tauntingly, walked towards her, he ran his finger along the blade.

  Nell willed her legs to work, knew from the look on his face that he was going to hurt her, or worse. As he neared she tried to turn, run back up the stairs. Her legs were leaden and wouldn’t support her. He caught hold of a handful of her hair and she lost her balance, falling flat on her face. Caleb roared with laughter, tightening his grip in her hair.

  ‘Clumsy useless Nell, how did you ever think you would outsmart me?’

  He smashed her face against the stair edge and the blinding pain had Nell screaming, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth. She cried out as he dragged her up the stairs by her hair, then they were in her bedroom and he was straddling her on the bed, the knife glinting dangerously.

  ‘Please don’t hurt me. Please! I’ll come home with you, I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t hurt me!’

  She was trembling uncontrollably, her chest tightening and her breathing growing erratic. The twisted smile he gave as he traced the edge of the knife down the side of her cheek reminded her how much he enjoyed her fear.

  ‘Poor, pathetic, useless Nell. You are nothing without me.’ Setting the knife down on the nightstand he caressed her cheek gently with the pad of his thumb before moving his hand down to her throat and gripping tightly.

  Nell struggled for air. ‘No, please.’

  ‘You betrayed me, Nell. I warned you what would happen if you ever tried to leave me.’

  ‘Please.’

  Then his hand was gone and he had hold of the pillow, was pressing it against her face. Nell thrashed beneath him, unable to breathe, her screams muffled. She was tangled in the sheets, sweating profusely, when she screamed herself awake. It took a moment in the darkness to realize it had been a dream: she was alone in the room; the light was off, her book on the nightstand. There had been no banging and Caleb wasn’t in the house. He never had been.