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  As they were driving back to the precinct, a call came over the radio from a uniform who’d found a car parked outside an abandoned building. The officer called in the registration number, its description and its location.

  “That street runs behind Chelsea’s house and it’s the kind of car we’re looking for,” Lucas said.

  They waited for the dispatcher to come back with the findings and she told the officer the vehicle was reported stolen three weeks prior. The officer said he would have the car brought to the impound lot.

  Maggie jumped on the radio and advised the officer the car could be part of a murder investigation and it needed to be checked for evidence. The officer said he would make sure it was organised for them.

  “Could he have been this close to her all along?” Maggie asked him.

  It’s like he knows when I’m home.

  Lucas cursed.

  “What?”

  “Chelsea told me when the calls came in she’d been just leaving or just getting home. He also called once when she would normally be at the shop. She said it was like he knew when she was home. I assumed he was stalking her and was making the calls from the pre-paid phone while watching the house. It never occurred to me that he could see her from where he lived.”

  “Didn’t Peterson and Stewart canvass all the houses on her street?’

  “Yes, but there were a couple of houses where no-one answered. I’ll ring Peterson now. They are closer than us. They can check the building then canvas the street where the car has just been found. Chelsea’s house has windows front and back, so it’s possible he was living behind her.”

  “And we can check the other houses on her street.”

  The first house they stopped at was down the road from Chelsea’s and seemed unlikely as a possibility due to its location. Her house was only partially visible but anything was worth a try. The lady living in the house hadn’t seen anything and didn’t know Chelsea or Elle. She also didn’t recognise Wesley Robinson’s photo.

  They knocked on the door of the second house directly across the road from Chelsea’s and next door to the last house they needed to visit.

  A short, blond lady answered the door.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “We hope you can, Ma’am. I’m Detective Johnson and this is Detective Hudson. We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions about your neighbours across the street.”

  “Oh yes, Chelsea and Elle. Very tragic what happened to her.”

  “You knew Elle?”

  “Only to say hello or wave. Chelsea too.”

  “Chelsea was kidnapped last night by the man we think killed Elle.”

  “Oh dear that’s terrible! She seems like such a lovely girl.”

  “She is,” said Lucas. “Were you home last night, Ma’am?”

  “No, I’m a doctor at the local hospital and I work long hours. I was on call last night and was at the hospital from around five until about one this morning. My name is Helen, by the way.”

  “We’re sorry to disturb you so early, Helen, but we’re trying to find Chelsea,” Maggie said.

  “That’s ok. Please ask me what you need to.”

  “As you weren’t home you probably can’t help us with what occurred last night, but the weekend that Elle went missing did you see anything?" Maggie asked. "That was the weekend before last.”

  “No, I’m sorry, I’m not going to be much help there either. I actually had the weekend off so I went to visit my sister and was gone from Friday night till Sunday night.”

  “Do you know anything about the person who lives next door?” Lucas asked her pointing to the neighbour on her left.

  “No not really. He lives there alone as far as I know. He must be a shift worker like me as I have seen him leave the house at odd times during the night. I remember because I found it strange that he sometimes went out on foot in the middle of the night and didn’t use a car.”

  “What does he look like?” Lucas asked her with urgency.

  “Um, he has dark hair and is medium height. The few times I’ve seen him he was wearing a baseball cap so I couldn’t really see his face. He seems to keep to himself and he’s quiet.”

  “Have you ever seen him bring any women to the house?” Lucas asked.

  “Once, she was a pretty little thing with dark hair.”

  “Do these photos look like any of the girls he brought here?” Maggie asked showing her photos of the four brunette victims.

  “Um, it could have been but they all look quite alike don’t they. I didn’t get that good a look, I’m afraid, but it’s possible.”

  “When was this?”

  “Um, last week sometime. May have been Wednesday of last week but I can’t be certain.”

  “Do you recognise this man?” Maggie asked, showing Wesley’s photo.

  “He looks familiar.”

  “Could he be the man living next door?”

  “Well the hair colour is wrong and I haven’t ever really seen his face properly.”

  “Is there anything else you can tell us about him?”

  “I can’t think of anything.”

  “Do you know if he is home at the moment?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Thank you for your help, Helen,” Maggie said and handed her a business card. “If you think of anything, no matter how small, please give me a call.”

  “I will. Have a nice day, Detectives.”

  “Is it possible he lives right there?” Lucas said.

  “It’s possible but the description doesn’t match.”

  “Even if he’s not our man, he may have seen something.”

  They knocked on the door and got no response. Lucas walked around to the back of the house, checking all the windows as he went, but the blinds were all down. At the back of the house was an alley which could easily be used as a service road to the garage, also in the rear. If someone wanted to get in and out undetected, they could.

  He came back around the front and there was still no response at the front door. Maggie saw the look on Lucas’ face and knew what he was thinking.

  “You can’t go in there, Lucas. We don’t have probable cause and if it’s not the right house, you’ll have a serious problem.”

  “But what if it is, Maggie? She needs me and she could be right here.”

  He took a step forward and Maggie grabbed his arm

  “We’ll continue looking, try to find a reason to go in there or we just have to wait for him to be at home.”

  “How can I wait?” He shrugged off her arm.

  “Lucas, if you go in there and you’re wrong, you could be taken off the case. You won’t be able to help her at all if that happens. Think about it.”

  He frowned. His eyes went between Maggie and the door until they finally came to rest on her. “Fine, you’re right. I’m just going out of my mind.”

  As they got back into the car Maggie called Peterson to discover the abandoned building, where the car was found, had been searched and was empty. They were also part way through canvassing the street so, Lucas and Maggie went to give them a hand.

  After making no headway with their interviews, they tried the house on Chelsea’s street again and there was still no response. Peterson and Stewart left for the evening and would continue with their interviews in the morning. Two detectives were assigned to stay on the house and watch for any movement. They would also keep knocking until they got an answer, in case he arrived home through the back. Lucas and Maggie went back to the station, they needed to start again.

  Chapter 30

  Despair

  Friday

  Chelsea blinked several times after opening heavy eyes. Disorientated, she took in her surroundings. The room was dim and unfamiliar. The goose bumps on her skin suddenly made her aware of the cold.

  What happened? Where am I?

  She felt something dry and sticky near her lips while her chest throbbed and stung. When she attempted to l
ift her hand to her face she realised her wrists and ankles were bound.

  As she remembered, despair engulfed her. The crazed killer, the one who thought she should know him, had cut her and this was the source of the severe ache. Her mouth and left eye felt swollen where he’d hit her. She glanced down to see her clothes were in tatters and did little to hide her nakedness. Her mind, although cloudy, began to regain its memory, bit by bit. Who was this man? She searched her memory trying to find the answers. Why did he seem vaguely familiar and a complete stranger at the same time?

  Then she remembered Charlotte and prayed she was alright.

  She’d begun to devise a plan of escape when the man walked into the room.

  “Well, you’re finally awake.”

  “Can’t we work this out?” Chelsea pleaded urgently. “We could leave together – run away. You don’t have to do this. I can access my trust fund and we can use it to escape.” Chelsea didn’t know what he wanted but she hoped this was it. She had to try everything.

  “What, you think we can be together, that this is what I want from you? Didn’t you listen to me? Why would I want to be with you now? It’s far too late for that. Even if that was what I wanted, I’ve killed five people, six including the cop. You are my final mission. I don’t want to spend time with you. I want you to scream in pain. I want to see you suffer and I want to watch you die as I slit your throat.” He snickered. “You’re a spoilt bitch, and soon everybody will know.”

  Terror seized her chest and stole her breath. His words echoed in her mind as fear overcame her. Then suddenly she remembered, an image flashed through her mind. She knew who he was. Andrew Smyth. From school! The dirty, scruffy guy who hung out with Wes, before Chelsea and Wes were together. People used to say how similar they looked. “You’re Andrew Smyth.”

  His expression changed to betray the truth before he could hide it from her. “Who is Andrew Smyth?”

  “You. I recognise you. We were at school together.”

  “Very clever, Princess. We did go to school together. So you do remember me. Who would have thought? You always looked down your nose at everyone - such a snob. So beautiful though. Too good for me.”

  Chelsea looked at him earnestly. “What did I ever do to you?”

  “You really don’t know?”

  Chelsea frowned. “No, I honestly don’t.”

  “You treated me like I was a nobody, like I was worse than a nobody.”

  “I didn’t know you.”

  He smirked. “Well you’re about to get to know me much better …” He started to unhook his pants.

  Quick, Chelsea. Think of something. “Weren’t you friendly with Wesley Robinson at school?”

  He stopped. “Wes? Yeah, you could say we used to be friends. Actually, we were team. He was my cousin”

  Was?

  He spat out an ironic laugh when she frowned. “You didn’t know Wes was my cousin, did you? Of course you didn’t. He wouldn’t have admitted knowing such low life as me. He became far too good for me. When he met you, he immediately broke off all contact with me because I was never good enough to be around someone like you. Mind you, neither was he, but you probably didn’t know that. If only you knew the truth. We were tight, Wes and me, once. We were family and we were both treated like shit by our families. Our mothers were sisters and they both left us to the mercy our drunken, abusive dads. We suffered in the same way. We were like twins. People said they couldn’t tell us apart. The only real difference between us was that I didn’t get lucky with you and he killed his dad.”

  Chelsea gasped. “Wes? I don’t believe you,” she protested.

  “Yeah he slit his throat. He called me after and I saw for myself. I visited him every week while he was in juvie. Then after he got out and met you, I never heard from him again. That is how he repaid me for my loyalty to him, for our years and years of friendship. For our love for each other. That is what you spoilt bitches do. You tear people apart for your own amusement, and you don’t give a shit. You even enjoy it. It’s all about you, isn’t it? There is nothing in the world of a spoilt bitch other than her. You get everything you want at the expense of others.”

  Chelsea couldn’t believe it. All her composure fell away. She couldn’t believe this man’s hatred, his twisted mind. She screamed and fought against her bindings.

  Andrew grinned wickedly. “So there was Wes, my best friend, my cousin, my world, and along you came. With your beauty, your fancy rich world and that was it. No more Wes. Wouldn’t talk to me. Wouldn’t have anything to do with me. I soon got the message. But then I decided it was time to send some messages of my own so I let him know our friendship was really over.” Andrew’s mouth lifted in a sardonic smile. “I slit his throat. That was fitting, wasn’t it?”

  Chelsea’s heart nearly stopped and her eyes stung with tears. Wes was dead? He hadn’t left her? This maniac had taken away her love, for what? Because he was jealous? Because he resented Wes’ happiness and that he might for once be able to enjoy the good things in life, the things her family had worked hard for and were willing to share with the people they loved, no matter who they were? He had destroyed her life once and now planned to do so again.

  She shook her head desperately trying to shake the memories of Wes out of it. She couldn’t mourn him now. She had to think clearly.

  “How could you do it?” she whispered.

  Andrew laughed. “He begged me not to do it, said he loved you. Well, that wasn’t a reason to spare him, was it? But it was a reason to kill him, and to kill the one who started it all, the person who took him away from me, who deserved to suffer for what you had done. You’re just like my mum. You take exactly what you want, then you toss everything else aside like worthless trash. You’d have tossed Wes aside one day too, but it would have been too late for me. Nobody betrays me like that and nobody treats me the way you did. He needed to die and you needed to suffer.”

  Chelsea shook her head in disbelief.

  “So I invited him over for old times’ sake. All he could talk about was you and how cool it was that he had his life together and that he would be marrying into money. He was so surprised when I cut him.”

  Chelsea screamed and shook her head even more violently to rid herself of every memory, of every thought, of every part of this horror. She needed a clear head to get away from this animal. She wished again that she wasn’t bound so she could block her ears. She didn’t want to hear any more but he kept going anyway.

  “They never found his body. They’ll find yours, though, but they won’t find me. Oh, I will enjoy watching every last drop of your blood spilling, you spoilt bitch.”

  Oh god, Wes ... Lucas, I need you …. Thinking about what happened to Wes, and remembering Lucas, was almost too much to endure.

  “When the fun of watching you cry over Wes wore off, it was time for you to die, so I started practicing, to get it just right. Seeing the terror in their eyes, watching their blood spill and hearing their last breath was like sweet medicine to my soul. I enjoyed cutting those other girls as I thought about you. Now you are my last, Chelsea. My ultimate prize. It has been worth the wait. Soon, you too, will taste the feeling of nothingness.”

  He continued to undo his pants and Chelsea braced herself for what was to follow, when she heard a knock on the front door.

  Andrew looked up alert and tense. “Don’t make a sound or whoever it is gets it,” he said to her with threatening look and removed the gun from the waistband of his pants. He disappeared out the room.

  Didn’t he say if I yelled no-one would hear me? Should I try?

  Confusion reigned. If she called out would she be putting someone in jeopardy? Was she willing to take the chance, to save her own life at the risk to another?

  * * *

  Andrew peered through the peephole and saw two detectives standing at the door, one of them the bitch’s lover. So you think you have found me? Well think again. Chad Wilson lives here, not Andrew or Wesley, for th
at matter. I bet you are looking for Wesley. I shall be very disappointed if you aren’t. I knew eventually you would find out about his record and assume it was him. Exactly what I wanted, I will get away with murder and you will continue to look for a dead man. He caught a glimpse of Hudson as he ventured down the side of the house and around the back. Look all you like, you won’t see anything. After a several minutes he watched them leave. Now I can finish what I started.

  * * *

  “Your boyfriend was here but he’s gone now. No-one is going to save you,” Andrew said when he returned. “Time to hear you scream again.”

  Two emotions raged through Chelsea: relief because he wasn’t going to rape her and fear regarding the pain she was about to endure again. She didn’t know which one was winning.

  When he took out his knife, fear won.

  Lucas …..I love you ... If only I could see you one last time ... Wes ….

  She tried to block out the pain. It was excruciating and she didn’t know how much longer she could take it. She screamed again, from the pain, from the anger, for Wesley and, most of all, at the thought of never seeing her loved ones again. She could feel the blood streaming from the incision in her chest and, for a slight moment, hoped she would bleed out and the nightmare would be over. He stopped the bleeding and cleaned the wound as her emotions switched between relief and despair. He then left her alone without saying another word.

  Lucas ... come back.

  If he came once, he might come back. Lucas was thorough and would not give up. Something led him here, maybe it would again. She needed to hope, it was all she had left. Andrew wasn’t going to see reason. If someone didn’t find her soon she was going to die here.

  Hours passed and the pain from her wounds dissipated whilst her desolation overwhelmed her. There was no escape.

  Later that day – at least she presumed it was the same day - she heard another knock on the door. She yelled out until she was hoarse but the knocking soon stopped and whoever it was went away again. She possessed no clue as to the time or how much of it had gone passed. Her mouth was so parched and her throat hurt when she swallowed. All she could do was think and hope. She thought about his beautiful amber eyes, his sexy smile, his passion and tenderness while tears rolled down her face. She screamed in frustration. Regardless of the uselessness of it, she screamed for help again. Endless minutes passed. Her yelling became a squeak as her voice finally gave out. Her wrists began to bleed again from pulling relentlessly at her bindings.