Read WHO FOLLOWS: a gripping, dramatic, intense and suspenseful thriller Online
Authors: Diane M Dickson
I crawl into the shower feeling like death warmed over. After the dream, nightmare, whatever you want to call it, I tossed and turned until the darkness leeched into grey dawn.
I have had many sleepless nights since joining the Police – it goes with the territory. It usually leaves me with a feeling of frustration and disappointment. When the dawn unfolds and the events we have been hoping for haven’t happened, or things other than expected have gone down, then the dissatisfaction is very lowering. Today though I couldn’t wait for the light. I wanted a new day. I need to be busy and to start to wind things up and move on.
I force down some toast and coffee, standing at the kitchen counter. I tidy the bed, lock up and clatter down the stairs and out to the parking area. For a minute I’m confused when I can’t find my car, and then I remember that it’s been impounded. This on-going review will impact my every day for a little while yet. I plip the key and cross the drive to the pool car that I’m assigned.
The office is quiet. It’s early, just after seven and so I don’t have to walk through the work space under the gaze of my colleagues. Some of them would be sympathetic and understanding. They would just carry on with their own work and leave me be. There will be some though who will want to know all about the shooting, the woods, the whole damn thing and I just can’t face them yet. Not today. Even the force has its share of ghouls.
I had wondered myself what it would feel like. When I trained to use weapons I knew on some sort of level that the reason I was doing it would be that I may have to shoot at someone one day. I had talked to people who had experience of it. I had read reports and I had tried to imaging what it would be like. But there is no way that you can imagine it. It isn’t playacting, it isn’t television, it isn’t a video game. Yesterday showed me that it’s real, very real and it hits you deep inside.
I have to get past it, to put it away in its box and to move on, but every time I close my eyes I see her. Lying in the mud, the rain soaking into her grey hair as the blood washes around us and she gives me one last look before closing her eyes. The real world is on a different level to me, other people are in a different zone.
I will not let this define me, I was acting in the line of duty and self-defence. She was evil, she was a murderer and she meant me harm.
She was Amy, she loved me.
I have failed. We still don’t have Maria’s body, I feel moisture on the back of my hand and stare at it bemused for a while. It’s the tears dripping from my eyes. I dash them away and drag some paperwork towards me. This will not get to me.
“Hannah, hey Hannah. Come up here.” In the times that I’ve spent in this house I never did go up to the third floor. I had never thought about it apart from registering that it existed. Now Sergeant Collins is yelling down the stairs and I have to go up there.
It feels weird being here, it really does.
The last time I was here was with Amy. She was hysterical and frightening. We had reached the end game as far as I was concerned. I had known that if she didn’t take me to Maria’s grave right then I had probably blown it and we were never going to get any further. We’d gone out to my car. She was carting a great bag with her and she told me that it was stuff to tidy up the grave in a natural burial site. You don’t do that, it’s the whole point isn’t it? There is no grave. It was such a tense time I hadn’t seen the contradiction. Even if I had it wouldn’t have mattered. I had already decided at that point that I had to go with her and see it through.
I hadn’t realised that she was way ahead of me. She’d even planned enough to bring the spade ready to bury my body. A shiver ripples through me as I think of it and I force myself to start climbing the stairs up towards the raised voice and the clumping footsteps on the ceiling. I’m tough, I can do this. “Bloody Hell Hannah, are you comin’?”
“Yeah.”
“Look at this.” As I push through the door Bob Collin’s hand sweeps a wide arc around the space tucked away in the roof of the old house.
“Jesus.” I’m standing in a faithful copy of the office that we had mocked up down in town. It had been a simple, sparse set up because of time and financial constraints but it had been enough to convince Amy. Not only that, she reproduced it exactly in the top of her own home.
“What the hell is this for?” But I know, let’s face it, if anyone would know it should be me. I’m the one who got close to her, I’m the one who effectively knitted the web that trapped her. We stare at each other as the thoughts and ideas trip and tumble.
“She was going to have you here, wasn’t she?” I just nod at Bob.
“Well, it looks that way. Do you think she intended to lock me up? Surely not, she wasn’t that mad was she?”
“She was a mad bitch, no doubt about it, but this… Think of how much this has cost. Think of the effort and organisation needed to get it done so quickly. How did she remember what it looked like?”
I riffle through piles of printouts on one of the shelves.
“Well this explains it.” I hold out sheets and sheets of screen grabs showing the pictures we had posted on the fake website. Office interior shots, staged interviews for magazines and fake advertising blurb. “She’s used these and what she remembered and my god she got it very nearly perfect.”
“Well, it didn’t do her any good in the end and it didn’t do you any harm. I’ll get it photographed and packed up. Carry on with what you were doing.”
It hadn’t done me any harm. No, not until just now. Nausea builds as I clomp back down the narrow flight of stairs. The threat lingering in that space has chilled me.
Push it back Hannah, push it away
.
I enter the back bedroom where I’d slept as her guest. This room had freaked me out when I’d first seen it. There’d been bottles of the perfume I was using and a cream shawl like the one that I had used to get Amy to contact me. There’d been a nightdress like the ones I usually wear; how the hell did she get the exact same one? If I had realised then the depth of the obsession I’m not sure I would have ever have risked the trip in the car.
Again my thoughts are whirling. If I’d known about this and so chickened out I wouldn’t have shot her. We would still have a chance of finding Maria. I flop into the chair and lower my head into my hands. I am chilled by a sheen of sticky sweat, I can feel my heart pumping away and for a moment reality retreats and takes me to a dark place where I float and spin.
“Are you okay, Hannah?” A strong hand is rocking my shoulder, “Hey, come on, are you okay?” I look up into Bob Collin’s worried blue eyes. “Have you been to see the psychologist yet?”
I shake my reeling head and nausea threatens again.
“Well do it today. You look like shit. Come on let’s go and get a cuppa. You really are going to have to get this sorted, Hannah. You’re no good to me like this.” He smiles as he speaks but there is deep concern behind his look and a trace of impatience. I am letting him down, this is wimpy behaviour and there’s no room for it. I push myself up and follow him out of the house.
The rain is torrential, I can’t see. I’m soaked to the skin and I don’t know where this is. Roots and weeds tangle around my ankles and legs, they tear and tug causing me to stumble and fall. There’s mud everywhere, cold and cloying.
I’m sobbing, hiccupping with it, and gulping and gasping but I can’t stop. Snot has trickled from my nose and as I swipe at it with my sticky fingers the slimy mess smears across my cheek.
If only I could see to get some bearings. If I could stand steady and walk normally and just understand what was happening to me.
I crash forward half crouching to avoid the slapping overhead branches that reach and claw at my eyes and head. “Help me, oh God where am I? Is there anyone there? Please help me.”
Staggering blindly, reaching into the gloom my hand finds a slippery tape and clutches it. Bending to see, my eyes peering through the dimness find only light and dark. A slick pliable hardness sliding between my fingers cutting at my palms. Dragging it upwards I squint through the gloom – there is lettering. Police.
With a great mental crack I am back in my own reality. I am here, here in the woods. How did I come here? Why? Shock throws me onto my behind to plop down amongst the soaked grass and the puddles. How in the name of all that’s holy did I get here?
I’m wearing no coat and the shivering is uncontrollable now. I know I’m grinding my finger nails into my palms, I can’t unclench them. Is this another bloody dream? Pain tingles in the palms of my hands. Can you feel pain in a dream? I think not.
The world is a vicious, hostile place and I am a cowering, feeble creature. Curling against the trunk of a great tree I hide my face down in my knees. Crying out loud now. “Help me, help me.”
Now I am located and know this place, I have been here before. Amy’s blood has flowed into this grass. Her body lay amongst these roots. I must get away.
Leaping to my feet I run and stagger and fall and drag myself up again and onwards. My feet find the path and I stand straighter now on the more solid ground. Cold rain is beating against my face and mixing with salt tears. With a deep breath and a massive effort of will I stop and calm myself and take my bearings.
This is the woods on the hill. I am filthy, hardly dressed and soaked to the skin and have no idea at all how I came to be here.
I can’t stop sobbing, like the wimp that I’m going to become if I don’t deal with this. But, I’ve got more control now as I turn towards the lights of the town glowing down below. I head for the thinner line of trees and where the car park should be. Will my car be there? I don’t know. I am completely unconnected with anything that may have brought me here and can’t remember what happened.
My name is Hannah. I am a police woman. I remember Amy, I remember I shot her. Bill Collins sent me home from work early because he was worried about me after the visit to Amy’s house.
If I close my eyes I see my flat earlier today. I can remember driving into the car park and unlocking the front door. After that there is nothing. Blankness from the moment I walked into my home in the daylight and now it is deep night and I have to get back.
The car is in the car park, not the great black four-wheel drive but the small pool car. The door is unlocked and the key is in the ignition. The key slides between my wet fingers and I have to dry them shivering and quaking on a tissue from the box on the dash-board. The engine fires and the lights illuminate the calm, ordinary, rainy night.
I drive home shivering and gasping in a half daze through midnight streets. They are deserted except for the few late workers and the homeless and the scurrying stragglers. I turn into my drive way. The key to my front door is on the same ring as my car key and I slam the door behind me.
Tearing off my clothes I step into the steaming shower and slide to the floor with the hot water beating on my head. My God what is happening to me, am I losing my mind?
I have started lying. I didn’t intend to but it grew from subterfuge. I wasn’t all that keen to see the psychologist right from the start. Not many people want to “open up” but it has been proven to be valuable. When there has been an incident that could be traumatic it’s now become part of the procedure.
I was on edge and nervy, thinking about the appointment. Last night was horrible. Waking in the pouring rain amongst the trees was terrifying and I am still absolutely thrown by it. It was impossible for me to miss work and doubly impossible for me to miss the appointment with Mrs Harker.
Bill Collins was his usual self when I arrived at work. “Christ Hannah, you look bloody terrible,” was his greeting and I knew he was right.
“Think I could be coming down with a bug.” I walked on past him concentrating on the set of my shoulders and the spring in my step. The tears were a moment away.
There is no room for this, this is not the way that I want to behave and this is not the way that I want to feel. I have to get myself together.
The thoughts tumbled as I made my way to the psychologist’s office.
Actually, it could be that I do need to unload. Maybe it could do some good and help to get me back on track.
She wears a skirt and blouse and a soft cardigan. The office is warm and she’s looking relaxed in a low chair when I slide through the door.
“Hi there, Hannah. Is it okay if I call you Hannah?” I nod and sit on the chair opposite to her.
“Okay, bit of a formality really.” She smiles at me, “Of course that’s not to say that you shouldn’t take the whole thing seriously. You have been through a potentially life changing situation and if you have any concerns at all I am here to try and help.
What we say here is confidential but I will make a report. That will simply be my opinion on whether or not you need more support and your fitness for full duties. Okay?” I manage another smile, it feels strained and forced but she doesn’t seem to notice. I carefully wipe my sweating palms on my trousers as she bends to pour herself a drink. “Water?” She slides a glass towards me.
“So, I have seen a report of what happened. You had your copy?” Her eyes flick to my face for a moment and she registers my nod. Leaning back against the padding she crosses her hands loosely on her lap. “First of all is there anything that is particularly bothering you? Since the incident particularly of course, but I am here to listen to any concerns you may have.” The silence stretches between us and I struggle with the decision about how much I should say.
“What sort of thing do you mean?” Feeble, feeble. Playing for time and she is sure to know.
“Well, do you think that you are dealing with the trauma? Are you clear in your mind about how you feel about it? Have you been feeling stressed, nervous? Are you sleeping well? Anything at all that you may want to tell me?”
Usually we don’t recognise the point of no return until later but I knew, right then I knew. I could speak up now about the dream, about the horrible feeling in the room at Amy’s house and of course about the woods last night. I didn’t and that is when I started to lie.
“I think I’m fine actually. Of course it was a big thing, I didn’t have any idea what it would be like to shoot someone but no I think I’m dealing with it okay.” She tilts her head to one side as she studies me.
“Good, that’s good. You look a little tired, are you sleeping?”
“Sleeping, oh yeah. I think I’ve got a bit of a bug coming on and we’ve all been working hard on this case and I got soaked the other night didn’t I? Well you know how it is.”
“Hmm. So at the moment you don’t need any sleeping pills, there’s nothing you want to talk about?”
“Sleeping pills, God no. Well, what I mean is no thank you, I’ve never been one for taking sleeping pills. Thanks though.”
“How do you feel about Amy and the obsession that she had with you?”
“Oh, well yeah it was a bit weird I admit. Then again it was pretty much what we were trying to do. Well maybe not quite that but friendship anyway.”
“But it doesn’t bother you that she followed you and from what I understand she spied on your home and intended to entice you into a relationship with her?”
“Nope, it’s over isn’t it? I guess that’s about all you can say.”
“And Maria, that case isn’t closed is it? Do you feel that the exercise was unsuccessful?”
I mustn’t overreact. Take it steady. “Well, I would have preferred to find her, her body of course. You never know, we have an idea now where it could be. Anyway I’m not sure what’s going to happen about all that yet, we have a conference planned for this morning. Actually I think that, if it’s okay I really should be getting back? Are we done, well you know have we finished?”
“I think that maybe it would be a good idea if you come back and see me again, maybe a week from now. Sometimes things take a while to settle down, it’s possible you could have a reaction later, would you do that?”
“Well I don’t think there’s any need but I suppose I don’t have a lot of choice.” Christ I didn’t mean to sound defensive, she glances down at the paper on the table and then reaches and picks up a blue folder, my file I suppose.
“Okay, you come back again the same time next week and if, in the meantime you feel you need to talk to me give me a call.” She hands me a business card and then holds out her hand to shake mine.
Closing the door carefully I lean against the cream wall in the corridor. My legs are weak and my hands are quivering. Why, what have I got to hide, she was only trying to help me, why wasn’t I honest with her?
Work, that’s the answer. Get back to work and keep busy and everything will click back into place.
On top of that, as if it wasn’t enough they have decided to shelve the idea of a search for Maria. Now that we have Amy’s confession on the tape that was hidden in my bag they reckon that it wouldn’t serve any purpose. No solid confirmation that the body is in the woods. They must be joking, how can they say that? No money for a prolonged search on the off chance. Of course if the family cause a fuss there could be a turnaround but as things stand that’s it. How can they do that? How can they leave her there, in the woods? If Amy had killed me would they have left me out there in the dark and the rain? At one time I would have said no way but now, well I just don’t know. I argued and tried to force them to alter the decision but in the end I could feel that I was losing control. Bill was giving me some funny looks and I had to let it go. For the present time, that’s how they couched it – for the present time. She is out there now. Still in that horrible place on her own.
Charlie has come over. I thought I would enjoy the company and he wanted to be with me. Obviously we haven’t seen much of each other for ages and he’s been patient. Relationships can be so hard when one partner isn’t in the Force but he is marvellous. I will make it up to him, let him know that I understand the sacrifices he makes.
It’s okay at first, we’ve had takeaway and some wine and listened to music and it felt normal, ordinary. It’s very good.
Of course he assumed he’s staying over. Well, so have I. We’ve had a cuddle on the couch, as I say normal, and now we have brought our wine with us into the bedroom. He is kind, gentle, he always is. I know he will want all of me tonight. I will give him what he wants. I owe it to him.
He’s turned the light out so that there is just the orange glow from the street lamp and the hall light. I have always liked it like that and he’s remembered.
I know it can’t be true, I know she can’t be here, but the shadow in the corner is Amy, the billow of the curtain in the breeze is Amy, and when I close my eyes and he touches me it is her hands that I feel. It is her old hands, bony fingers with the knuckles swollen and her skin scratchy and dry.
I try to ride over it, this feeling, but Charlie knows something is wrong and I can’t explain it to him. Christ, how do you tell your boyfriend that in the darkness you are making love to a dried out husk of a woman?
I push him away, the hurt on his face tears at my heart but I can hardly breathe. “It’s too early after all the drama. I think you should go, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” I want him to stay but he is so upset and I feel so bad.
I will spend the night in the chair by the window watching the trees in the churchyard, I can’t face the bed.
I need to get this sorted.
I can do it, if I just finish the job and get the enquiry out of the way it’ll all be fine, we can be together, we will be happy.