Page 58 of Pride
A man.
A rich man.
But me?
I could’ve walked into that police station with the bloody heart in the box, and they’d probably still doubt me. Or arrest me for the offence, thinking I’d committed the murder.
Everything had become too much. I was frightened of this guy stalking me. Terrified, in fact. Gracie had gone AWOL. The police weren’t helping me, and work had thrown me to the wolves, causing the pain and then leaving me to deal with the fallout. I couldn’t handle this on my own anymore. I felt relieved that Alex was involved now. That I had someone else on my side.
“Upstairs is clear,” Alex stated as he came back down. “Is there anyone with access to your house or anyone who has a spare key?”
“There’s only Ethel next door that has a key for emergencies. No one else.”
“Then let’s go and talk to her,” he said, heading for the door.
I followed him, glancing nervously up and down the street as we emerged from my house, praying I wouldn’t see a dark figure hiding in the shadows.
Alex knocked on Ethel’s door as we both stood outside, waiting. She muted her television and then, seconds later, opened her door. Her eyes bugged when she saw Alex, and she looked him up and down before turning to me with a knowing smile.
“How are you, love? I noticed you haven’t been home for a few days.” As she said that, she glanced at Alex and smirked to herself.
“No,” I replied and then tried to find the words to tell her why we were there. I didn’t want to scare her by saying I’d had a break-in. She was in her eighties. It’d cause her stress she didn’t need at her age. But it was tough to sugarcoat this. “Did you see anyone come to my house while I was away?”
She frowned. “Not that I know, love. Is everything okay?”
Alex went to speak, but I cut him off. I didn’t want him saying too much.
“It’s fine. I was expecting a visitor, and I felt bad for missing them, what with me being away.” I turned to look up at Alex and give him a knowing look as if to say, ‘Keep quiet. Don’t scare her. She’s too old to deal with the shit we’re dealing with’.
“Out of interest,” Alex piped up. “Do you have Emma’s spare key? We need to borrow it if that’s okay?”
Ethel beamed back at Alex, “Of course it is. It’s not my key,” then looking at me, she added, “It’s yours.”
We stayed on the step as she disappeared back inside then came back down her hallway, clutching my key in her hand.
“There you go,” she said, as Alex put his hand out to take it.
“Has anyone ever used it?” he asked, and Ethel stared at him in confusion.
“No. It’s been in a drawer in my living room for the last few years. Ever since you gave it to me, Emma. I’ve never needed to use it.”
“And no one else had access to that drawer?” Alex pushed, and Ethel scoffed, clearly thinking he was being ridiculous.
“Do you think I hand out people’s keys to strangers? I’m not senile, you know.” She was pissed.
“We know that,” I said, glaring at Alex. “And we’re sorry. Thanks for everything, Ethel. I appreciate everything you do for me. We’ll leave you in peace now.”
She mumbled to herself, gave Alex a sharp look, then smiled back at me. “Come round for a cuppa, anytime you’re free. I miss our little chats.”
“Will do,” I replied, and she nodded then closed the door.
“He stole the key off her,” Alex hissed as we walked back to my house.
“Maybe. Or maybe he’s fucking Houdini.” I opened the door, recoiling when I saw those painted words again, screaming back at me.
“Houdini was an escape artist,” Alex said, closing the front door behind us. “Our guy is a...”
“Fucked-up killer artist,” I replied, finishing his sentence.
