The Killer She Knew, page 12
“The hot water is not working. Did you notice that?”
“I’ll call Frank,” I say.
“Frank?” Nick asks.
“He’s a handyman,” Mia says. “Helps us repair stuff around the house,” she adds.
“I can do it,” Nick says.
I ignore him and feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pull it out and see the notification pop in, my brows furrowing in confusion. Nobody texts me, and I definitely do not get random notifications. I open it up and scoff when I see the music download notification. I completely forgot that I was downloading a song, and my laptop synced with my cellphone.
“I’m sorry, Nick.” I look up at him briefly. “I’ll continue the story in a bit; let me send a quick email.” I pull the laptop closer to me and away from Nick’s line of sight. “What are we having for lunch today?” I ask as I write, and I realise I ask not because I’m hurried but because I seem to enjoy cooking. Must be my chef instincts kicking in.
“How about a chicken salad?” Nick says as I carefully unplug the USB from the computer.
“A salad is too basic, considering that we have a professional chef living with us,” Mia says with suggestive winks, and they both enter a conversation about meals. Happy for the distraction, I reach into my pocket and pull out a new USB, which I plug in.
“Are you done yet?” Nick asks, his eyes darting toward me.
“Sent,” I respond a bit too hastily. He smiles and nods in acknowledgment.
“Now, her social anxiety,” Mia jokes. “Emma hates having strangers over.”
“Frank isn’t a stranger,” I reply.
“Oh,” Nick says as he scratches his forehead and looks over at Mia and then at me, but I decided to ignore his nosy and judgmental look and continue typing.
About twenty minutes later, Frank strolls in wearing a bored look. He’s a tall, lanky man with broad shoulders, probably in his thirties. He’s wearing blue overalls and holding a toolbox.
“I got your message,” he says dismissively.
“Thank you for coming.” I smile without showing my teeth as he takes his cap off. “Here.” I stand up and gesture at him to follow me. “I’ll lead the way.”
“What’s wrong with it?” he asks, setting down his toolbox on the tiled floor of the bathroom.
“It’s the hot water. It stopped working,” I say as I take a peek at the door, hoping Mia and Nick are in the living room and not being inquisitive.
He nods in response as he begins inspecting the pipes.
“I’ll be back downstairs if you need anything.”
Mia hums as she brushes my mum’s hair and organises her pills while Nick is, once again, back on my laptop like a cat to catnip.
“He’s fixing it?” He looks up to me, and I nod.
After a few minutes, Frank descends the stairs with his toolbox, and his overalls are drenched in a large spot.
“It’s working,” he says plainly.
“I’ll check it out!” Mia yells, before disappearing into the bathroom.
“Give me a second while I fetch your payment,” I say, getting up to get cash. From the corner of my eye, I see Nick watching my every move ever so curiously.
“You don’t do it electronically?” he asks.
“Have you met Emma?” Mia chips in as she returns to the living room. “The woman who plants her food and never orders in. Someone who avoids anything that could put her on the map. She even counts my pay in cash weekly.”
I scoff at Mia’s lame attempt at a joke. She’s not wrong, though.
“Does she have that much money sitting around in this house?” Nick asks, and I turn my head at him, my forehead creasing with lines.
“Uh-oh,” Mia says and raises her hands in mock surrender.
I look back at the stairs as I rush up toward my room. I pull out the USB, which is tucked beneath my hand, and then I reach for my phone. Glad I have a smartphone and bought a dual USB, which can be plugged into my phone and laptop. I insert the USB, and Nick’s file pops up on the screen.
Scrolling down, I look for a chapter for Zoey. I select it and then delete it. I eject the USB, and reach for my bag. I bring out a few cash, which I drop into an envelope with the USB.
I walk down the stairs. Mia and Nick are too engrossed in their topic. “Thank you.” I hand the envelope to Frank. I return to the table; Nick moves away swiftly, taking the other chair.
I begin to write, but the phone call from the previous night sweeps into my thoughts. Even though, as proposed by Detective Dilaud, I have a baby cam so that he can watch over me and Mia while Nick is living in the house with us, he also proposed I call him from time to time to make sure I’m okay.
“You know what, Nick?” I say as I rub my palms over my face, then push my hair back. “Let’s do something else but write for at least an hour. I can’t concentrate.”
“Sure, take your time,” he responds and heads out.
Frank, who still stands in the room after checking the payment, checks the envelope, and then he waves it in the air with approval.
I HEAR MY BURNER PHONE vibrate, and I stealthily retrieve it from the table drawer where I had it hidden. The message on the small screen reads I received the USB. Good job.
I heave a sigh of relief after responding to the text. Frank was the only means I could come up with. I had to get the USB cord transported, so I turned off the water heater earlier and called him in. The USB cord was safely tucked in between the dollar notes in the brown envelope I gave to Frank. Though I call the detective from time to time, he still feels nervous about the whole operation so, from time to time, he sends Frank, his partner, to come in and check on us. Frank comes in disguise as the repairman. Mia knows about Dilaud, but she doesn’t know that Frank is working with him or that we have Nick under surveillance. I think it’s for the best––she gets more nervous than myself.
A three-dot - Have you spoken to the witness yet?
I type back. We haven’t had time to, being that Nick is here with us. I’ll try to talk to Mia in detail soon.
A three-dotted line comes on the screen, and the few seconds of wait feels like hours. We’re parked in a black SUV some feet from your house. If anything happens, let us know.
Do you still have a view through the baby cam? I ask.
Yes. Living room and a little dining room, he types back immediately. I should have stopped you from doing this, he adds.
You couldn’t have. I need to do this. Thanks, Detective.
I take a deep breath as I put the phone away. I sigh and rub circles onto my chest as I gather the courage to keep going. Such danger, all for justice, and for Mum to finally realise all I’m doing, to have her feel proud of what I’m accomplishing. And I wish for company, to have Henry hold me and kiss me all over, convincing me I was doing all I could so the culprit wouldn’t get away with murder.
But I don’t really need said convincing. I know he won’t get away with it. Not this time.
Chapter 25
EMMA
I PAUSE A LITTLE, OBSERVING the room. It’s just Mia and I, as Nick has gone up to the restroom. Certain we are alone, I draw a breath, but she cuts me off.
“The camera isn’t working,” she brings up, her voice sounding shaken. After Mia became my mum’s nurse- I gave her access to watch the baby cam, especially when she was away from mum, like to do her laundry or prepare her lunch, but I had noticed this morning, too, that the screen was blank. I typed a quick message to Dilaud, telling him about the faulty equipment, and I was sure, because I wanted to reassure him that we were okay but would need a replacement soon.
“I noticed. I’ll buy a replacement or have it fixed,” I assure, feeling my hands shake a little at the thought of the detective not being able to monitor us both. “The USB is with Detective Dilaud,” I say, trying to iron out the tension and unease. “Do you think he knows?” Mia asks, his voice quivering.
“I doubt it. You took to a different name, and he only met me disguised that night.”
“which he nearly killed you.”
“yeah, but my name was Zoe, not Emma.”
“He is very smart and conning, you know?” Mia rested her hand on a table, but I could see- her hands shake
“he can’t hurt us,” I reply, not because we are strong enough to fight a muscular guy in his 40s but because I trust in the detectives.
“Everything seems good so far,” I reassure her after getting no reply. She nods, and though her furrowed brows and widened eyes show concern, even fear, I catch the proud look she is giving me. I can’t help the heat rising to my face.
I ran my hand through my hair, wanting to tell her something I hadn’t told her.
“Frank is also a detective.”
" I thought he was just a repair guy you said you found on the internet,” she asks.
I chuckle. “I wanted you to be at ease.” I touch the table. “Sorry, I lied to you. He works with Detective Dilaud.”
She nods as a crinkle runs across her forehead, then she clears her throat.
“I’m ready to testify whenever you need me to. It’s...” she licks her lips, “...it’s impressive how brave you are, Emma. I mean, taking this bold step? It’s not something you’d see often. Something you’d see ever, for that matter.”
“Thanks, Mia.” I nod. " You too.”
“I hope this ends soon; I’m tired,” She says in a loving voice. I understand what she means as my everyday are nerving and chilling. She clears her throat, “I think I have been doing a good damn job as an actress,” then brushes her hand over her face dramatically.
“You deserve the academic,” I reply with a soft chuckle.
She mimics a presenter’s voice on stage at an award ceremony. “The 2024 award goes to.” She stops abruptly as the sound of the restroom creaks.
“What did I miss?” Nick says as the floors creak loudly under his feet, serving as our cue to end the conversation.
An urge to tell Mia to be careful sprouts in me, but with a single look, she shuts it down. She swiftly changes the conversation, and her face goes back to usual. Amazing, I think to myself.
“Nick,” she calls, “you’ve been going to the restroom way too often these days.” Her brows crease with concern as she approaches him, placing her palm over his forehead.
“Are you still not feeling any better?” I ask. “two days of not feeling well sounds like a lot to me.”
He gives me a warm smile, nodding in response. “I’m not feeling too unwell,” he says as he frees himself from Mia’s grip.
I walk into the pantry room and pick up a cup; then I pour in powdered herbal tea. I walk back and see his furrowed brow as I hand it to him. “This should help with nausea and diarrhea. But...you should probably go see a doctor,” I say, filling the cup with warm water.
“What’s this?” he asks, lifting the cup to his eye level.
“Poison,” Mia says, cackling at her own joke.
“Herbal tea,” I correct and nod at him as he smells the contents. “I hope I haven’t mistakenly eaten something I’m allergic to.”
I walk back into the kitchen and begin washing dirty dishes from the sink. “Don’t worry, Nick, I checked your allergies,” I say.
“Oh,” he says with a heavy breath, then chugs down the contents of the cup.
I watch him do so, noticing his shoulders relax, and his jaw loosen. His clothes are neatly worn, as though he is comfortable in our house. A stranger’s house. He smiles at me in enjoyment, and I struggle to keep my blood from boiling. He gladly takes food and drinks from me. I have allowed it. But it all has a purpose.
Snapping myself out of my thoughts, my eyes return to him. He’s already looking at me, and I fight for dominance, even when staring too long at those soulless eyes. A master at pretending politeness, but I didn’t buy it. It didn’t matter to me how long ago he had killed. To me, he is still Zach. He always will be.
Retching sounds from the living room demand our attention.
I run out of the kitchen toward the living room, feeling Nick’s heavy steps behind me. We find Mia sitting by Mum and holding up her hair as she throws up into the bucket in front of her. Mia shakes her head and smiles with tightened lips.
“She’s been nauseated all morning,” she explains as she turns her attention back to Mum. She has been on stronger medication for a while, and by all measures, she is supposed to be much better by now.
“Is it something in the water?” Nick jokes while baring his hand over his stomach. He then suddenly rushes to the restroom again.
I wipe my hands on my jeans and walk closer to her. “What’s wrong with her, Mia?”
She doesn’t answer and instead cleans my mum’s chin with a wet towel.
“Mia?”
Nothing.
“Please say something...” I put my hand over my mum’s forehead. I take a deep breath, but the heart monitor begins to beep loudly and irregularly.
I watch Mia tense up, stand, and check the monitor. Mum falls back onto the bed, and her eyes widen for a split second. Then, she stares in front of her at something that isn’t there.
“Mia!” I yell as I watch Mum’s body start to tremble. A seizure.
I look around frantically as sweat trickles down the sides of my face. My eyes brim with tears as I feel helpless and useless.
“Emma, call 191!” Mia yells as she takes out medicine and a needle, causing my heart rate to spiral.
“O-okay,” I whisper to myself in a panic as I reach for my phone on the dining table. It’s happening so fast. Mia pulls an oxygen mask over Mum. She inserted a needle through her vein. I dial as I watch my mother’s stats over the monitor get worse. The phone falls from my hand and onto the floor.
The voice of the operator, and my frantic voice as I screamed the address of our house and pleaded for help. The beeping sound of the machine is louder. Mia’s mouth moves as she gestures frantically to me, and the only thing I hear is the erratic beeping. With wide, teary eyes, I watch as it all stops. The seizure stops. The beeping stops.
Her heart stops.
Emergency personnel rush into the house, along with Nick, who appears from the stairs.
“What happened? I just went to the toilet,” he asks faintly to no one in particular.
I stare at my mum, unsure of how I’m still standing. Her eyes are lifeless. It doesn’t make sense. She was just here with us.
WE ORGANISED A SMALL funeral for my mother. It still feels like a nightmare that I can’t wake up from. When Zoe died, it felt like my whole world was over, but somehow, I managed to live on with Mum. She was my only family. I’m alone now.
The doctor told us she died from high blood pressure complications, but it didn’t quite sit right with me. She was on medication for it. I recall asking Mia, on the night she died, if she had noticed any change, and all she could remind me was the day she saw Nick pitched around my mother’s bedside and the camera, which hadn’t been working.
At the funeral, a few strangers showed up, everyone offering condolences to Mia and Myself. Nick, on the other hand, stood in the back.
I couldn’t cry anymore. I had cried so much that there were no more tears left to cry. Mum left without saying a word to me. She left without seeing my accomplishments, and what I had planned for Zoe. Mum left while we were still on unclear terms with each other. I didn’t know which hurt more.
This was my second funeral in only ten years. I never attended my dad’s funeral, though. Didn’t feel like I had to. I barely even knew him.
The tears and wailing from the attendees made me wonder if they actually knew my mum. This was a woman who was barely interested in meeting anyone, let alone being nice to strangers. Mia was kind enough to invite most of her family members from out of town to attend the funeral, too.
I just stood there, arms crossed, as I stared at the scene. It was still surreal.
I guess I will never know what Mum and Zoe wanted to tell me that night.
Chapter 26
ZACH
Iknew the police were onto me. And I knew a witness, a family member of one of my girls, was onto me. Information from certain police officers wasn’t hard to get through exorbitant amounts of money (which wasn’t hard for me to get). The witness’ name was Georgina, Kathy’s mother, and she’d seen me with whiny Zoey.
One night recently, I visited the club, and some nosy reporter approached me too; she didn’t say the words, but through indication, wore a red scarf. A familiar Michael Adams scarf. Actually, it was the same one I had tied around my girls.
At first, I thought she was a cop, but I hadn’t seen her face before, and I made sure to know who the detective in charge of the case was. Know your enemies.
She’d found me at Blue Moon, a privately owned bar. The location itself was a drive away from the highway into the pine nut area of Calitain, a woodsy area that was at least twenty minutes away from the city. And she had come alone––no friend, no boyfriend...as though she knew she’d find what she wanted.
From the way she looked at me and the way her shoulders were stiffened, it seemed she was nervous, wary of me. That was why I tried to give her some alcohol. After two to three glasses, people begin to allow their real selves to be seen.
I knew she wasn’t the family of one of my girls. Gloria’s father was dead; he had cancer, poor man. Zoey, on the other hand, I would say, was the only whiny teen I felt sorry for because Patricia left Calitain, and she went back to London just two days after her daughter had not returned from school. She couldn’t care less if she was alive or dead. The last time I watched the TV, she was featured in a new British show—unaware or uncaring about her daughter. The police never found Zoey’s body. Of all my girls, her’s was the only one I buried.
The only persistent one had been Kathy’s mum, who I knew had given her statement to the police. Poor single parents; at least they’d been freed from their torturous teens.
I had left Monthel for London for a while, which was when I got myself checked into a rehab centre for addiction. I had to be clear-headed if I didn’t want to be caught.
