I've Been Watching You: a stunning crime thriller from The North East Police Series (13 page)

Closing the door, he walked around the bed and faced his wife.

Eve looked up at him, and for the first time in her life, her eyes showed anger not fear. She would get him for killing Ann. She didn’t know how she knew it was him, but she did, and she had every intention of making him pay. Her body might not be willing, but her mind was. She would
make
someone understand.

She could see John’s surprise, and she knew well that his anger would be simmering beneath the surface.

Her husband grabbed her hair roughly, bending in so close she could smell the faint whiff of the breath mint he’d eaten hours before.

‘You know your place, Eve. Don’t even think that
you
could outsmart
me
. You’re nothing but a pathetic woman. Matthew agrees, he didn’t even want to come and see you today. I had to take him to your sister’s early just so he didn’t have to come.’

Her anger flickered, then rekindled. This was the first step on her road to defiance. She had to do something. Had to stop her son from turning into his father, had to get revenge for her lovely sweet Ann.

He went to unzip his pants. Eve clamped her jaw shut. She couldn’t do much, but she knew how to piss him off.

He shook his head as she kept her jaw shut, and grabbed her face hard, his bony fingers digging into her cheeks.

‘Open your mouth, Eve. You know your place,’

Gritting her teeth together she kept it closed, watching as eventually he let her go and sat down beside her, staring at her in contempt.

Inside her mind she laughed at him. It was a small victory, but it was a victory none the less.

7
^th
June, 0715 hours – Newstead Residential Home, Sunderland

John was tired. He felt like his mind was spread thin, like jam over too much bread, and his thoughts were clogged with images of death and pain. It had been ages since he’d slept well, and it showed. Heavy purple bags sat under his bloodshot eyes. For once, he was glad Matthew was at Carolyn’s for a few nights. He felt like he needed the break, not that it would end up being that way.

He’d had the phone call from the home at 6 a.m. – his wife had fallen out of bed and hit her head. He’d arrived as the carers were stemming the bleeding from her temple, the red liquid covering the side of her face. Because of the drugs she was on, her blood was thin, and took a while to clot properly. She had already been upset, but the moment he walked in she’d pretty much started climbing the walls, non-literally of course, and as they loaded her into the waiting ambulance, she was hysterical.

Irritation simmered beneath the surface. He’d gone to bed too late to deal with a crisis this early in the morning. Pushing his car into gear, he followed the ambulance out of the car park.

It was going to be a long day.

Chapter Ten

8
^th
June, 1010 hours – The Bridges Shopping Centre, Sunderland

He sat in the cafe nursing a luke-warm cappuccino, watching the people pass by without a care in the world. He could sit here all day, had on many occasions now in fact. He found it calming, retaining anonymity whilst observing everyday people going about their mundane lives.

There was a reason for him to be in the mall today, though. Clarice had told him she was going shopping with her friends. He was in the prime position to watch, knowing that many of the students shopped in places like Primark, Top Shop and River Island. This particular cafe was the only one with a 240 degree view. By sitting here, he could see the three corridors lined with shops, leading to the central point – the food court.

He’d been there for almost an hour now: the waitress glancing over at him periodically to see if she would have chance to get a better tip by offering him a refill. He already had the tip put aside in his pocket - always tipped the people who earned the least in unfulfilling jobs.

He felt a shiver pass down his spine. She was here. Somewhere. He just knew it.

As Clarice came into view, approaching the large doorway to Primark with two other girls, his skin started to prickle with anticipation. Dressed in leggings with a flowing low cut top, she looked irresistible. She’d agreed to meet him in a couple of hours, to pass over the class notes in person. And as much as he wanted to just take her then, make her his; he knew he had to take the notes and leave.

It wasn’t time yet.

When he left he would text her, say how beautiful she had looked. Girls loved to believe flattery, even when it was false. They were such vain creatures.

He decided it was time he bought some supplies. He would go for value over quality, heading into the pound shop for a pack of cable ties. He’d bet his last penny that Clarice was a fighter. And he wanted her to be. The harder they fought, the harder they fell when they finally accepted their fate. And it was such a turn on, watching them struggle against the bonds with gaffer tape stuck across their loud mouths.

As he handed over the money to the waitress, he smiled, more of a grimace really, the scar at the side of his mouth distorting his features.

The waitress smiled back, but then shivered at the cold feeling that spread suddenly through her from her very bones. It was a large tip, one from anyone else she would have happily pocketed, but the coins in her hand felt … unpleasant. She made sure he wasn’t watching, and put them in the charity box beside the till instead.

8
^th
June, 1050 hours - Digital Forensics Lab, Sunderland HQ

His proximity was unnerving. Ben felt more flustered than she had felt in forever.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Jacob’s leg was so close to hers she could feel his body heat radiating outwards and into the padding on the outside of her thigh. She could hear the pounding of her pulse in her ears, rhythmic, like the sound of a drum, and she wondered if it was possible at all that he could hear it too. She glanced at him sideways, a brief look, catching his face set in utter concentration as he told her what he was doing with the mobile phone. She’d actually zoned out about five minutes back.

He was too close.

She couldn’t do this, he would know. And she didn’t understand it anyway. Confused, Ben pushed her chair back.

‘You OK?’ he asked, turning a little on the swivel seat to look at her. The blue of his eyes darkened, and she thought he saw attraction, but it was instantly masked so she figured she’d probably imagined it. She knew her own expression had responded, saw the flicker of a response in his face. Having him so close to her was encouraging thoughts she really shouldn’t be having. The seconds stretched out as she didn’t respond to his question, their eyes locked on each other.

Ben had to move. If she didn’t move she risked leaning in and kissing him.
Kissing him? Where had that come from?
Now it took all her energy trying not to think about how that would feel. She really had to move. Pushing the chair back she stood, breaking eye contact after what seemed like an eternity.

‘Bathroom,’ she said, aware he was still staring.

Jacob didn’t trust himself to speak. He watched as she strode down the office, her hips swaying gently, and her backside …
Whoa! Get a grip! She’s not a piece of meat.
He frowned to himself. That moment had him wanting to grab her arms and pull her in, lock his lips to hers and never let her go. He felt his body betray his thoughts that it couldn’t happen. Thank goodness he only had to do this for the rest of the day.

Groaning out loud now, he knew ‘the rest of the day’ would be the longest rest of the day ever. It was a long time until 5 p.m. Pulling the job allocation sheet from the file at his side, he marked up a few more jobs. If he was busy and focussed he wouldn’t be thinking about her.

Yeah right.

8
^th
June, 1410 hours - Digital Forensics Lab, Sunderland HQ

The day was dragging. Jacob was hot and bothered, and not from the dodgy heating system in the station. Ben couldn’t sit still, she was up and down constantly and it was unnerving him. Making a flash decision, he decided it was time for a field trip.

‘Come on, let’s go do a house call,’ he said, grabbing his coat off the rack behind his desk, and his stick from its place by the wall.

‘A house call?’ asked Ben, her voice a little startled. ‘Digital do house calls?’

‘On occasion, yeah. The POLSA team have just done a house search, some big-wig in the organised crime family. They’re wanting his system seized but think it might be booby trapped if they disconnect. We’ll go have a look and see if that’s the case, and if it’s not then they will get one of the CSIs in to disconnect and label it up for transportation. It’s not something we do regularly, but it gets us out of the office for an hour.’

Ben nodded as she followed him out. She watched as he limped in front of her. She’d been wondering what had happened to him since she had first seen him in the class room.

Settling into the passenger seat of his automatic-control Skoda, she decided to bite the bullet and just ask.

‘Were you injured?’

Her voice sounded small to her ears, and for a moment she wondered whether he had actually heard her. She opened her mouth to ask again, then clamped it shut as he answered.

‘Are you always so outspoken?’ Realising how exasperated he sounded, he forced himself to relax. She didn’t even know the impact she was having on him, how could she? Naturally she was curious. He glanced at her sideways, and responded again. ‘Sorry, I’m a bit snappy today.’

‘Time of the month?’ she joked lightly, ‘It’s fine. I’m just nosy. I learnt a long time ago that if you don’t ask you don’t get. Sometimes I ask when I shouldn’t and develop a severe case of foot in mouth syndrome. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.’

‘No it’s OK, I shouldn’t have snapped like that. Yes, I was injured. I used to serve in the army, paratrooper regiment. I was on assignment in Afghanistan with my team when an IED went off.’

His voice was curt and to the point, and Ben felt like an idiot. She had absolutely no right asking what had happened, putting him in a position where he felt he had to answer. She wasn’t stupid, had seen the pain spear through his grey eyes prior to him answering. Knowing she had been the cause of that pain made her feel even worse.

‘I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry if I upset you.’

‘I’m not upset. It’s just ... well, if I’m honest, no one’s ever come straight out and just asked what happened. You threw me. You’re pretty direct, Cassidy.’ His grin softened the use of her surname.

Ben felt her face flush. His tone had lightened, almost on the verge of being teasing.

‘That’s down to Aoife. She brought me up to always ask questions. Grace is starting to do the same too. Maybe I need to learn when not to put my foot in my mouth though,’

‘You didn’t. It’s fine, honest, if anything it’s refreshing. Normally women run screaming when how I came to limp comes into conversation.’

Now it was Ben’s eyes that narrowed in on him, his expression hadn’t changed, his face still neutral, but the slight tick at the side of his jaw told her more than he intended her to know.
He believes that. He thinks he’s not attractive. What the hell? Has he even looked in the mirror?

‘Well maybe the women who run screaming aren’t the women you should have in your life. We all have scars; lord knows I do at any rate. It helps define us into the people we are. Other people should either accept that or leave well enough alone in my opinion.’

‘You sound like my sister,’ he said, giving her a quick grin. ‘TJ’s always saying exactly the same thing.’

‘TJ? Is that the woman in the suit who was in the lecture hall the other day? Sounds like a wise woman to me.’

‘Teresa Jane. She’s always been called TJ. Yeah that‘s her. She decided to surprise me with a late supper. Wise maybe, but she can be a pain in the ass. All she ever goes on about is seeing past the damn leg and into the future.’

‘Well maybe it’s time you did that. You can’t live in the past, and you can’t let the past define your future. We’re all the people we are, scars, limps and all. I think living is about accepting that we aren’t perfect, nobody is. Surely it’s more about accepting the good with the bad and just living?’

Her words pierced straight into his heart like an arrow, and not even thinking, he pulled the car over and turned to face her.

‘You really believe that don’t you? That everyone is different and has a right to be? That the past doesn’t define us? But, what if it
does
define us. If I hadn’t been injured I’d never have gone into digital forensics, I wouldn’t be working for the police. I’d still be working the rounds in whichever country I was dispatched to with a team of men and women at my side.’

‘And you don’t have that now? You could look at it another way. If you hadn’t been injured you wouldn’t be working in digital forensics,’

He looked a little puzzled, ‘That’s what I just said?’

‘Jacob, you’re good at what you do. You’re a natural teacher who has the ability to dumb down the intricate knowledge for people like me who don’t have a clue. You work with a close-knit team, people who see the worst parts of humanity and still maintain the kind of working relationship that people only get when dealing with stressful situations. Getting injured serving your country is awful; the things you saw were no doubt awful too, but that career paved the way for where you are now, for
who
you are now. Don’t minimise that by undermining the person it led you to become.’