The darkness beneath, p.8
The Darkness Beneath, page 8
Had the woman died on the beach where Nell had found her head, or had it washed ashore from somewhere miles away? Again, a detail she shouldn’t be thinking about.
A knock at the door had her jumping in her skin.
Jesus, O’Connor. Pull yourself together.
Hastily she made her way down the hallway, unlocked the door and pulled it open, expecting it to be Tommy, so surprised to find herself face to face with Alex.
‘Hi.’
‘Can I come in?’
He was out of uniform, though wore his badge on the belt of his jeans and a firearm holstered on his hip.
‘Sure, yes, of course.’ Nell stepped back and let him pass. ‘I thought you were going to be Tommy.’
‘He’s still down on the beach helping the medical examiner.’ He turned to face her as she closed the door, green eyes sober. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yes, I’m fine. Cold… does it feel cold to you? But I’m fine. I put coffee on a while back, but it’ll be cold too now. I’ll make a fresh pot.’ She was aware she was babbling as she headed down the hallway to the kitchen, Alex following behind her. ‘I guess you want to take a statement, right? That’s why you’re here? I’ll make coffee and we can talk.’
‘Nell, sit down.’
When she ignored him, Alex caught her by the shoulders, guided her to a chair.
‘I was going to make coffee.’
‘I can make the coffee. Sit.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘You’re ice cold and you’re shaking. You’re in shock.’
Nell attempted a laugh. It sounded delirious. ‘I’ll be okay, honestly.’
She started to get up, but Alex gave her a warning look and she thought better of it. He took off his jacket, slipped it around her shoulders.
‘Cups are in the cupboard next to the sink,’ she pointed out, trying to be helpful as he went to fill the coffeepot. She tapped her foot impatiently, fighting the need to fidget, and slipped her arms into the jacket, hugging it against her, grateful for its warmth.
‘In here?’ He opened the cupboard, rummaged around, and instead pulled out a glass and a half full bottle of brandy. It had been one of Bella’s bottles. Nell rarely touched the stuff, but hadn’t gotten around to throwing it out.
‘This will be better,’ he told her, uncapping the lid and pouring a generous measure.
‘Really?’ Nell screwed up her nose. ‘Coffee’s fine.’
Alex pulled up another chair and sat down at the table next to her. He handed her the glass.
‘Drink,’ he ordered.
She stared dubiously at the molten liquid, opened her mouth to protest again and received another pointed look. Hesitantly she took a sip from the glass. The brandy burned her throat as she swallowed, hissing as it touched the pit of her empty stomach.
‘And again.’
With a sigh she did as she was told. ‘Has anyone told you you’re bossy?’ she grumbled, but kept hold of the glass, not wanting to admit the brandy was pleasantly warming her belly.
‘You want me to call Michael?’ he asked, ignoring her question.
‘No, he doesn’t need to be here. It’s not a big deal.’
‘Okay.’
Nell shook her head slowly. ‘Shit, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean it’s not a big deal. Of course it is. Jesus fucking Christ, there’s a head on the fucking beach. A woman’s head. What the hell?’ She took another, much larger, gulp of the brandy, choked this time as she swallowed.
‘I’m fine, I’m fine.’ She held up a hand when Alex reached for the glass. ‘Seriously, I’m okay. I’ve never seen, touched, a dead body… head, whatever, before. It’s taking a little while to process. And thank you for offering to call Michael.’ She hesitated, finding it hard to ask for help. ‘Maybe you’re right. I do need him here.’
Alex nodded, pulled out his phone and made the call.
Nell heard her brother’s deep voice blustering on the other end of the line as he learned about what had happened, her heart sinking a little. He was going to wrap her up in cotton wool. She so wanted a chance to reclaim her independence, rebuild her confidence, but dammit, she didn’t want to be alone tonight.
Alex ended the call. ‘In case you somehow managed to not hear any of that, he’s on his way.’ There was the faintest hint of humor in his tone, a warm glint in his eyes. He had been patient with her, was now trying to put her at ease and lighten the moment, and she appreciated that. She drew a deep breath and told herself to relax.
‘I guess you’ve seen some pretty bad stuff before, huh?’
‘Back in Portland, yeah, but nothing like this here.’
‘How did she… Could it have been an accident?’
‘We’ll have to wait on the report from the medical examiner, but no, it wasn’t an accident.’
‘Which means someone did that to her.’ The glass shook in Nell’s hand. Annoyed she set it down on the table, hunkered down into the jacket, trying to get warm. ‘You think it’s someone on the island?’
‘It’s too early to say. Can you talk me through what happened? You were on the beach. How long had you been down there?’
Nell told him about her visit to Michael’s and how she had gone for a walk down to the beach to clear her head and think things through. ‘There’s not much else to say. I was by the water and spotted something stuck in the seaweed. That’s when I…’ She broke off, needing a moment, the woman’s face clear in her mind. She wondered if that was how it was for Tommy with Lizzie. Did he see her face every time he closed his eyes?
‘How is Tommy doing?’ she asked.
‘Tommy?’ Alex raised a brow. ‘It’s his first homicide, but he’ll be fine.’
‘It’s not his first brush with death though.’
‘I know. Lizzie Kent’s murder was one of the main reasons he joined the police department.’
‘We know each other from way back, Tommy and me.’
Alex said nothing, his expression neutral as he waited for Nell to continue.
‘Come on, I know you know. Lizzie Kent was my best friend. I was the one supposed to be babysitting that night. It should have been me. Even if Michael or Tommy never told you, you’re the chief of police. You know.’
‘And your point is?’
‘Things seemed weird with Tommy, down on the beach.’
‘Really? You’re gonna make this about the past? You just found a dead woman’s head. He has never dealt with anything like this before. It surprises you things were a little weird?’ Alex shook his head, seeming bemused by the path of the conversation. ‘If you were hoping for some big happy smiley reunion, it wasn’t going to happen tonight, Nell.’
‘No, it wasn’t like that. He wouldn’t even look at me. It was like he blamed me for what happened to Lizzie.’
‘What is it you want me to say? That it could have been you that night? Yeah, it could’ve, but it wasn’t. It was Lizzie; wrong place, wrong time, end of story. We all make choices, we all make mistakes, hell I know I have, but that’s life. You have to accept them and move on. Tommy is grounded and he’s a good guy. He’s passionate, hardworking and his heart is in the right place. He hasn’t seen you in close to twenty years and when he finally does you meet under difficult circumstances. Cut him a little slack, okay?’
Much as she didn’t want to admit it, he had a point. Nell probably was reading far more into their encounter than she should. Her brush the previous night with Sam Kent hadn’t helped her paranoia, but Sam had reason to resent her, Tommy not so much. She was shaken as hell about the head, so she doubted it was a walk in the park for Tommy. He’d just been focusing on his job.
‘Are you always this annoyingly right?’ she asked, forcing a smile in an attempt to lighten the moment.
Alex laughed, his wide appealing grin suddenly back, wiping the seriousness off his face. ‘Yeah, most of the time.’
‘I’m sorry I got whiny on you.’
He gave her arm a squeeze. ‘It’s okay. I’m going to cut you a little slack too under the circumstances.’
They were silent for a moment.
‘Michael and Newt want to renovate this place and turn it back into a guesthouse.’
‘And is that what you want?’
‘Yeah, I think it is.’
A loud crashing sound came from outside making Nell jump. Instinctively she reached out and grabbed Alex’s arm.
‘What was that?’
He was already on his feet, heading towards the back door, changing instantly from casually laidback to hard and alert, all trace of humor gone. ‘Wait here,’ he ordered, gun drawn, when she got up to follow him.
She was too jittery to sit, so she stayed where she was, watching anxiously as he quietly turned the lock, eased the door open, and stepped outside.
This was Purity. It was supposed to be a safe place to live. Statistically it was.
Tell that to Lizzie. And there’s a woman’s severed head on the beach across the road. It didn’t get there by accident.
Still, she was overreacting, Alex was overreacting.
Even though she tried to convince herself it was true, when he didn’t reappear after thirty seconds, panic clawed its way up her belly and into her throat.
‘Alex?’
Nell waited a beat and when there was no answer, called again. The half whisper of her voice cut into the quiet night air, met only with silence. A wave of hot clammy nausea washed over her, making her head spin. She gripped the counter to steady herself as the pounding started in her chest.
Oh God, no, not now, not again.
‘One-hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight…’
She slipped to the floor, her back against the counter, and drew her knees against her chest. Breathe, damn it, O’Connor. Focus on your breathing. Her brain wasn’t receiving the instructions, her breathing growing faster and out of control.
Focus.
‘Eighty-four, eighty-three, eighty-two…’
‘Nell?’
‘Seventy-nine, seventy-eight, seventy-six…’
Alex dropped to the floor beside her.
‘It’s okay, you’re having a panic attack, but it’s going to pass. You’re going to be okay.’
His voice was low, his tone calm. ‘Focus on your breathing, Nell.’
‘I can’t. I can’t… breathe. Seventy, sixty-nine, sixty-eight…’
‘You can. Your brain is trying to trick you. Breathe with me, in through your nose and out through your mouth, slow and steady.’ He took hold of her hand. ‘Repeat it with me. In through your nose, out through your mouth, in through your nose and out through your mouth.’
‘In through my nose and out through my mouth, in through my nose and out through my mouth.’ Nell gripped Alex’s hand tightly, tried to focus on doing as he instructed.
‘It’s just a panic attack. It can’t hurt you. In a few minutes you’re going to be okay.’
Eventually her breathing steadied, but he didn’t rush her, waiting patiently until the attack had fully passed. They sat in silence for a few moments.
‘Did you see anything?’ Nell asked eventually. She was too exhausted to feel embarrassed. She still had hold of Alex’s hand, needing the physical connection.
‘There’s a broken flower pot underneath the window. Whoever or whatever knocked it over has gone. It might’ve been kids, or more likely raccoons’
She recalled he had told her there had been problems with some of the local kids trying to break into the house, though had hoped they would leave it alone now it was occupied again.
‘So, how long have you been having the panic attacks?’
‘They started after Lizzie’s murder. I had them under control for a while, but they’ve got worse over the past couple of years.’ Since Caleb, she thought, but didn’t say. She had a feeling Alex had already figured that out. ‘Michael doesn’t know. Please don’t tell him.’
‘They’re nothing to feel embarrassed about.’
‘I know, but I am. They make me feel so weak and useless.’
He gave her hand a squeeze. ‘I don’t think you’re weak and useless. Do you know how many people suffer from panic attacks? The number would surprise you. You can’t help how your body reacts. The trick is learning how to control them.’
‘You sound like you know what you’re talking about.’
‘My mom used to have attacks. You should talk to Michael. He would understand.’
‘No, it’ll be another thing to stress him out. Please don’t say anything.’
Alex was silent for a moment, his jaw tightening. ‘Okay, I won’t tell him, but if he asks, I won’t lie either.’
‘That’s fair enough, I guess.’
‘There is a compromise.’
‘Which is?’
‘I’m going to give you my cell number. If you won’t go to your brother when you need help, you come to me. Do we have a deal?’
It was Nell’s turn to be silent. She barely knew Alex, hadn’t even liked him at first, but she had to accept her first impression of him had been wrong. He had just seen her at her weakest and he had stayed by her side, helped talk her down. Caleb had used her panic attacks as another way to humiliate her, loving the extra power it gave him over her. She had misjudged Alex and it meant a lot that he wasn’t going to shoot his mouth off to Michael about the attacks. He said he wanted to help her and she believed the offer was genuine.
‘Okay, we have a deal.’
*
In the bushes to the side of the house he watched Michael O’Connor arrive, then a few minutes later Alex Cutler leave and make his way back across the road to the crime scene. He heard the door being bolted shut, though knew that Alex was right, the locks were weak and he could easily still get in the house.
He had heard a lot of the early conversation from where he had been crouched in a cramped position beneath the single-glazed kitchen window. But then he had been foolish enough to move, accidentally knocking over the plant pot and alerting them to his presence. After Cutler had come outside looking for him, he didn’t dare risk approaching the house again. Still he had heard enough and what he had heard made him unhappy.
It was time to give Nell O’Connor a scare she wouldn’t forget.
CHAPTER TEN
Jenna Milborn stood in the line for the checkout and glanced at her reflection in her powder compact. She had tried her best to disguise the bruise on her cheek, but it was still clearly visible in the harsh lights of the store. Hearing laughter from the next checkout, she glanced up to see Melissa Reynolds and Ginny Cook whispering and looking in her direction. Her cheeks flushing, she snapped the compact shut and dropped it back into her purse.
They might laugh and think they knew her, but truth was they didn’t have a clue.
Curtis Milborn was a brute of a man and one with a particularly ugly temper when he had been drinking, but he was her penance. Years ago, Jenna had had big dreams and hopes for the future, but it had all been taken away from her in the blink of an eye. She had done bad things and now she had to pay for them. Each time Curtis hit her the pain softened, and while she didn’t go out of her way intentionally to goad him, she knew she deserved every punch. Of course, she still had enough pride to try and hide her bruises, still went along with the charade of pretending her husband hadn’t given them to her, though that was more to protect him. People didn’t believe her; she could see it clearly on their faces. Chief Cutler had been trying to get her to press charges for the past couple of years, but she never would. Curtis was her cross to bear and she had learned to accept that.
The checkout line moved forward, and she loaded her groceries onto the conveyer belt: bread, milk, eggs, carrots and a couple of six packs of Coors Light, Curtis’s favourite beer. Another snigger came from the next checkout and Jenna fixed both women with a glare. They had been in the year below her at high school. Back then Jenna had been popular and pretty, and she’d had barely a care in the world.
How had it gone so wrong?
Back then she had been dating Luke Trainor. He had been the love of her life and she had truly believed they would get married and start a family. Luke would get a good job and they would live in a nice house. Jenna would have expensive clothes and pretty things, her life would be perfect. Part of it had come true – well for Luke it had. He had the job and the house. He just had it with someone else.
Jenna had seen his girlfriend, Stacey, a few times, though didn’t know her to talk to. She was younger, perkier and prettier, drove a flashy car and was always immaculately dressed. Things had fallen apart for Jenna and Luke straight out of high school. These days they seldom spoke. Jenna wondered if he viewed her with the same disgust and ridicule Melissa and Ginny did, and thought bitterly about how unfair it was that his life had gone on to be so perfect while she struggled to exist from day to day. She drummed her fingers impatiently against the conveyer belt as the woman in front paid for her shopping, chatting away to the store clerk, oblivious to the line forming behind her.
‘Isn’t it terrible? Speculation is she was killed in East Haven, though I don’t think anything official’s been released yet. Someone tried to hide her body at sea, but her head washed up here.’
Jenna tuned into the conversation, her mouth dry.
‘They say Michael O’Connor’s sister was the one who found it.’
‘Yeah, I heard that. Wasn’t she friends with the girl murdered in Don Dolan’s house?’
‘Really?’
‘She was originally supposed to be babysitting that night.’
‘Isn’t she living in Bella Golding’s old place?’
‘That’s the one. I guess that girl must have a talent for attracting death.’
Jenna ran a shaky hand through her hair, her blood running cold. This was the first she had heard about a murder victim’s head washing up on the beach. When the hell had this happened? And Nell O’Connor was back on the island, living in her aunt’s old house. Jenna vaguely remembered her from years back, knew she used to spend her summers with Bella. So much had happened since then.
