“Gemma Sinclair,” he stated again like my name was honey on his tongue. “Look at you… all scared and frightened of me. That’s not how you look at Lucas.” He paused momentarily. “You look at him differently to how you do me.”
“Maybe if you didn’t try to intimidate people, Mason Carter, you wouldn’t have such a bad reputation.”
The corners of his lips twitched like he seemed pleased with my assessment of him.
“Do I intimidate you, Gemma?”
I squared my shoulders refusing to reveal my true fear. “No, you don’t. I’ve known you for too long.”
“Wrong answer.” This time his lips morphed into a wide smile, sinister and wicked. A smile that chilled me to the bone. With the rifle still pointed at my chest, he mouthed ‘boom, boom, boom’ while feigning the recoil of each shot.
“That’s enough!” The gaming assistant snatched at the rifle, yet Mason seemed unfazed.
“I saw a flicker of fear in those pretty green eyes of yours, Gem. I like that.” Mason Carter winked while taking steps in the direction his friends had run off to. “I like you best when you’re scared.”
Chapter 7
NOW
The smell of ammonia filled my nostrils.
It was a familiar almost comforting smell. When I entered the foyer of my apartment building, it was already dark outside. It had been a long, stressful day dealing with the break-in and vandalism. David still had no case-solving answers, and I could only hope he remained in the dark about its personal nature. If and when he did find out, I’d surely lose my job.
“Evening, Miss,” Gerald from maintenance greeted, moving the mop side to side across the parquetry floor.
“Hi, Gerald. How are you?” I stopped at the mail wall and opened my box. Nothing.
“Fine, Miss. Doing just fine.” Gerald was always fine. You’d never know if he’d had a bad day. “I hear the shower is working better now, Miss.”
“The shower?” I asked, closing the mailbox and locking it.
“Your shower. It was fixed today. Just what you want after a hard day at the office.”
I swiveled to face him, brows furrowed in question. “Was there a leak while I was gone?”
Gerald paused, mop still in hand. “I don’t know, Miss. But whatever it was I could have fixed it for you, and you could have saved a few dollars. All you gotta do is let me know.”
“And I always would. I never called a plumber, Gerald, and I certainly never paid for one.” I immediately felt a sense of unease. The same unease that had been plaguing me since my birthday. This admission had Gerald questioning himself.
“Maybe I’ve got you mixed up with next door.” Gerald flashed me an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Miss. The head hasn’t been quite right for a few years now.” He chuckled to himself as he tapped his temple.
“That’s okay,” I assured, stifling a yawn. I was drained. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Night, Miss,” Gerald called as I took to the stairs. I had four flights to walk up, and my legs protested with each step.
When I reached my floor, the dim hall light barely illuminated the area. The problem, however, was obvious. My apartment door was ajar.
I approached cautiously, uncertain of what I would find on the other side. There was no light shining between the partial gap. Stopping just shy of the threshold, I listened for any hint of noise. Nothing.
With the tip of my fingers, I pushed the heavy door open and reached around the wall for the switch. The open-floor living, dining, and kitchen lit up to reveal nothing out of place.
If indeed Gerald was correct about the plumber, I would need to have a serious discussion with security in the morning about access requirements. A simple phone call and relocking the door would have sufficed. Stepping inside, I closed and locked the door behind me and scanned my surroundings once more. It had been damn lucky I hadn’t been burgled the time I was gone. Moving my head side to side to ease the day’s pressure, I placed my handbag on the kitchen counter and then reached down to remove my heels. My actions, however, were cut short.
Something had stopped me.
Something I’d missed earlier.
Something that was indeed out of place.
The flowers.
They were still in the vase and exactly where I’d left them in the middle of the counter, but with one distinct difference. The beautiful bouquet Peter had bought for my birthday had the flower buds cut clean off leaving only the green stems. I blinked hard, a part of me feeling like sleep deprivation was playing tricks on me. The flower buds were definitely removed and nowhere to be seen.
“What in the hell?” I whispered to no one.
I rounded the counter searching the ground for any discarded flora. But there was nothing. Whoever had hacked off the flowers had taken the buds with them. Retrieving my house keys, I ran out the door and back down the flights of stairs. I was no longer tired. Curiosity and a healthy dose of adrenalin were kicking in. When I reached the foyer, I saw Gerald packing away his mop and bucket.
“Careful, Miss, the floor is still wet.”
“Gerald, I need you to tell me about this plumber who went into my apartment.”
“So, it was yours?”
“Yes, I believe so. Did you get a good look at him?”
“Well…” Gerald looked away, drawing on his short memory for answers. “He was wearing a cap, you see, so I didn’t get a great look at his face.”
“Was he tall?”
“Yes.”
“Broad-shouldered, maybe Mr. Anderson’s build from 202?”
“Well, yes.” Gerald shook his head, frustrated with himself. “I’m sorry, Miss, I can’t tell you any more than that.”
I suppressed my frustration. The building was old and heritage listed. Any major changes needed often meant lengthy meetings and delays that saw little result. Hence the lack of security of the technical kind. And Gerald, as sweet as he was, had a mind like a sieve and barely retained anything of importance.
“How did he get access to my apartment?”
His eyes lit up happy, he finally had an answer for me. “Well, he had your key, of course.”
“I’ve never given my key to anyone,” I muttered in frustration, raking a hand through my hair.
“Thanks, Gerald. If anyone else comes through and says they’re accessing my apartment, call 911 immediately.”
His brows furrowed in confusion, still not registering the severity of the situation. “Is everything okay, Miss?”
“No, but it’s too late now.”
It became too late ten years ago.
I started my journey back up the stairs when Gerald continued. “Oh, Miss? There is something I remember.”
I turned on my heel, gripping the balustrade. “Oh?”
“Yes, I remember…” he tapped his forehead with his index finger, “… the man wore a fragrance. I smelled it before I even saw him.”
My heart thudded.
“Can you describe it?”
“Well, ah—”
“Was it sweet but spicy all at the same time?”
“Yes. Yes, I guess that would be a fine description of it.”
Thud.
He had been here.
What was promised ten years ago was coming to fruition.
Mason Carter was hunting me down.
Chapter 8
You’ve reached Peter Stanovich. Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you.
Shit!
I threw my cell on the chaise after the third time going through to the answering machine. My nerves were shattered, and my resolve was quickly following suit. I was wearing a hole in the wooden floorboards from all the pacing, and Peter was unreachable. After returning to my apartment, I went through every dark spot of every room, and once satisfied I was alone, I slid the waist-high bookshelf in front of the door. There was no deadbolt, so the piece of furniture was the next best option.
I was left with little choice but to speak with Detectives Walsh and Kinross. Mason Carter simply was not convinced that I had kept my word. No matter how long I maintained my silence, he would always come after me.
He thrived on intimidation, he always had.
Nothing was about to change now.
~