Behind Shadows: A Psychological Mystery Thriller (The Adam Stanley Series Book 1) (24 page)

There was no sign of Andrew.

"Oh, Doctor, come in, come in." The nurse jumped up from her position on the floor.

The doctor began examining Judy.

"Do you know where Andrew is?" I asked the nurse.

"Who?"

"Andr— er. DJ."

"Mr Pitt left. He said to ask you to pick his daughter up from her friends. He said he'd left the address on his desk upstairs."

"No! He can't have left." My voice was louder than I'd intended and the doctor stopped to look around at me. "How long ago?" I asked.

"Fifteen-twenty minutes, I guess," she said, glancing at the clock at the side of the bed.

I took the stairs two at a time, my heart racing and my head throbbing. I couldn't believe Andrew would leave without speaking to me.

The first room I came to was obviously Mary's bedroom. The walls and bedding were all different shades of pink. Cuddly toys covered the bed, making me wonder how she managed to get in and out of it.

The next door was the master bedroom. A huge, solid-oak, antique bed took up most of the room. Quaint, Queen Anne bedside tables and two oak wardrobes, the only other furniture, were all neat and tidy except that the wardrobe door was wide open. Andrew must have gone through it in a hurry because I realised all his clothes were gone.

Through the last door on the landing I found the office. Compared to the rest of the antiquated cottage, this room blew me away. State-of-the-art equipment covered every wall. On the wall above the desk, I saw two flat-screen monitors and my stomach lurched. I stared at images of my kitchen and lounge.

I thought they were photographs at first, until I heard a familiar sound, and Michael walked into the kitchen. I watched as he dug his phone from his pocket and dialled a number. "Amanda, this is getting stupid now. You've made your point—call me." His voice was as clear as if I were standing in the room with him.

I was relieved in a way that my instincts had served me well, although I had thought the watching was happening outside, not inside my own home.

I wondered how long Andrew had been spying on us. I presumed he normally locked this door. He must have intended for me to see this today—otherwise he'd have switched the monitors off.

There was a walk-in-wardrobe on the back wall and I opened the door to see a line-up of familiar-looking women's clothing, the first garment, a red, collarless jacket. Confused, I pulled it towards me. Next came a blue shirt, then a Pink blouse, a navy skirt, pale-blue jeans, beige dress, midnight-blue velour dress, black trousers and a silver blouse. The list went on and on. My mouth dropped open. I could have been looking in my own wardrobe at home. Everything was exactly the same. He'd obviously been able to check out via the monitors what I wore on any particular day, and then dress accordingly.

An envelope leaned against the computer with my name on the front. Beside it was a notepad with an address and a scribbled message asking me to collect Mary. I folded the envelope, shoving it into the back pocket of my jeans, and tore the front page off the pad.

Back downstairs, the doctor was finishing off and came through to the kitchen to wash his hands. He placed a sheet of paper on the table. "You can contact the funeral directors now," he said.

"Okay, thanks." I don't know why I didn't tell him it was nothing to do with me; instead I smiled and walked him to the front door.

As the doctor's car left, another car sped into the driveway. Adam bolted from the vehicle and reached me at the front door in a couple of strides.

"Amanda, are you all right?" he said as two more police cars with their sirens blaring screeched to a stop behind Adam's.

"I—I'm okay."

"It's just … Andrew, your brother. I think he's the killer."

"I know, he told me." I stepped back and Adam followed me into the hall.

"What do you mean?"  He grabbed me by the shoulders. "You need to stand outside. It's dangerous. Are Mrs Pitt and the girl inside?"

"Judy died. She's in the back room with the nurse. The doctor just left—Mary isn't here."

Adam barked some instructions to four uniformed officers. They ran up the front steps towards us before pushing their way into the house. They scanned the lounge, then two of them took the stairs while the other two ran towards the back of the house.

"Where is he, Amanda?" Adam turned back to me.

"He's gone."

"Gone where exactly?"

I shrugged. "I've got no idea."

Two of the officers reappeared in the hallway, shaking their heads at Adam, who barked more orders at them: "We need to search this property from top to bottom, including the grounds."

"There's no point, Adam," I said. "He's already gone. You're too late."

Chapter 43

Amanda

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you, sweetheart?” Sandra said.

“No, honestly. It’s a big help if you just collect the children after day-care, I don’t know how long we’ll be.”

“Course I will, love,” Sandra said as she loaded the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher.

As I swigged the last of my coffee, I wondered how I ever got by without this wonderful woman in my life.

Handing Sandra my cup, I rushed through to the hallway. “Mary, are you almost ready?” I called up the stairs.

“Won’t be a minute,” she replied in her quiet voice.

She’d been staying with us for the past two months and today we hoped to make her a fixture in our home by being granted a Permanent Residence Order.

I was, after all, her only living relative apart from her fugitive father. I hadn't told anybody about the confession Andrew made to me about Mary's past. She was just another victim in all this and I wanted to protect her from any more suffering.

Besides, what good would come of everybody knowing she was, as Andrew called it, the by-product of sexual abuse? To find out her father is her uncle, or maybe even her grandfather? No—as far as anybody needed to know, I was her aunt, end of story.

The doorbell rang and Emma came charging through from the kitchen.

“Calm down, Miss Em,” I said. “I’ll get it. You go and brush your teeth then help Grandma get Jacob ready for day-care.”

“Aw,” she said and huffed up the stairs.

I opened the door and was surprised to find Adam Stanley. He was dressed in jeans and a brown leather jacket.

My stomach gave a little twirl.

“Oh hello,” I said and smiled. “This is a nice surprise. Come on in.”

“No, it’s okay. I know you’re probably running around like a headless chicken. I just wanted to wish you luck for today–not that I think you need it, mind.”

“How nice of you to remember. Thanks, Adam, it means a lot, I said. “Are you sure I can’t tempt you to a cuppa? I have time.”

“Thanks, but no. I might call in later though, to see how it went if that’s alright?”

Adam had been calling in to see us every few days. At first I thought he was making sure Andrew wasn’t about, but now I wasn’t so sure.

“That would be lovely, Adam. Maybe we can open a bottle of sparkly grape juice to celebrate with the kids?”

“It’s a date then, I’ll bring the bubbles.” He laughed.

I watched as he walked down the path towards his car. The same animal attraction I’d first felt towards him hadn’t faded, I don’t know how I’d resisted him for so long.

The fact that Andrew hadn’t been caught made it awkward between us though. He’d vanished off the face of the earth, or so it seemed. He left no trace for the police to follow, having withdrawn five hundred thousand pounds in cash in the weeks leading up to his disappearance.

I knew he was close by. He was an expert at being invisible—he'd done it for long enough in the past. Now, without a young child to consider, it must be so much easier.

I still felt I was being watched from time to time, but instead of feeling scared and vulnerable, I felt safe and protected.

The letter he’d left for me explained everything that we'd discussed that day. He must have had it ready to give to me once Judy died. I was glad about that. At least I know he intended for me to find out he was alive. He said he didn't regret what he'd done. "Getting the scum off the streets" was how he described it.

I’d not had the cameras removed. I hoped he still checked in on us. And sometimes, when I was alone, I'd talk to him—tell him how Mary was doing and how much we missed him. There was no way of knowing if he heard me, but the chance he might was enough of a comfort.

It turned out that Andrew had planned everything down to the last detail. Judy had changed her will in the days before she died, her solicitor having made a special trip to the house.

The country residence had been left in trust for Mary, as well as a substantial amount of money. She would be financially independent once she reached eighteen.

The rest Judy had signed over to Andrew, who in turn, had gifted it to me. I would inherit the house in Kingsley, a property I never intended to set foot in as long as I lived, and also an obscene amount of money that I intended to invest. Things would take a while to be finalised, but I was in no hurry.

Michael had got a job and moved to the city. He came back to see the children on the weekends. He and Toni hadn't lasted very long. Apparently, he’d caught her in bed with her Jamaican neighbour. This, I must admit, cheered me up whenever I was feeling low.

We couldn't file for a divorce just yet, although we agreed I would buy him out of the house and keep all the furniture. He'd taken his personal belongings, and as far as I was concerned the house was a much happier place without him.

We made a few changes at home to fit in our new family member. The computer desk now lived in my bedroom and Jacob moved into the former study, which freed up a decent-sized room for Mary. We were in current negotiations about its décor. She had very definite ideas about what she wanted—something she had undoubtedly inherited from me.

The children adapted well to all the changes. They adored their new cousin and she loved them to bits.

I, on the other hand, no longer felt the dread I'd come to believe was part of being a parent. I could allow the children space to grow without feeling I had to supervise every move they made. I’d enrolled them both into full-time day-care and now enjoyed the quality time I got to spend with Mary.

Walking away from the court, I felt lighter than I had in ages. All the weight I'd carried over the years had somehow lifted.

I glanced downward and a gaunt little face looked back up at me. "Shall we get an ice-cream, honey?" I asked.

"Yes, please, Auntie," Mary replied.

"We should celebrate. You are happy about this, aren't you?"

Mary nodded, the small smile on her lips not reaching her eyes.

"Maybe happy is the wrong word under the circumstances, but you know what I mean, don't you? They said you can live with us forever. That is what you want, isn't it?"

"Yes. I love being with you and my cousins."

She did seem to be coming to terms with her new life. However, I knew it would take her a long time to fully accept the loss of her mum. She still had no idea why her dad had left or about the murders. I knew she would have to know one day, but not yet.

As Mary and I reached the car park, my phone tinkled in my bag. I stopped walking and dug around for it.

You have 1 new message

Congratulations! Big hugs to my two favourite girls — A :)

I hugged the phone to my chest. My eyes filled with tears as I turned on the spot, scanning the area.

"What's wrong? Why are you crying, Auntie?"

"Nothing, sweetheart, nothing at all." I dropped to my knees and pulled her into my arms.

"I'm just happy, that's all. Really, really happy."

The End

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Netta Newbound, originally from Manchester, England, now lives in New Zealand with her husband, Paul and their boxer dog Alfie. She has three grown-up children and two delicious grandchildren.

For more information or just to touch base with Netta you will find her at:

www.nettanewbound.com

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Acknowledgements

Massive thanks to my family—especially my husband Paul for all your support and encouragement.

To my wonderful critique partners Sandra Toornstra, Linda Dawley, Serena Amadis and Jono Newbound—you’re the best.

To my Editor, proof reader and friend Sandra Toornstra. You’re amazing.

And finally, to the BOCHOK Babes – my go-to group for anything from critiquing to formatting or just a good old moan. Where would I be without you?