Chapter Seven
Elle gasped as darkness enveloped the gathering, and a cold feeling of dread settled over her, making her tremble.
He was here.
The idea of the power outage being accidental never even occurred to her.
The curtains were velvet, allowing no ambient light in from outside, so she literally couldn’t see the hand in front of her face. There were curses and gasps from the guests, then something made of glass shattered, drawing a few screams.
Elle tried to scream, but she was almost hyperventilating and didn’t have the lung capacity.
She wondered if she should stay still or duck down. What was behind her? Which way was the kitchen?
She jumped in alarm as someone touched her arm!
Conrad was unfazed by the darkness. This right here was why he memorized the layout of any room when he entered it, and now he sprang into action. He was at her side in two long strides, and she nearly jumped out of her skin as he took her upper arm.
“Shh,” he soothed, and she calmed as she recognized his voice.
Everyone was now chattering and scrambling for their mobile phones.
“Trust me,” he murmured, pulling her to a corner of the room and pushing her down behind an armchair situated there. “Whatever happens, stay down, stay silent,” he whispered firmly, trusting her to obey him.
Phone screens were coming on by then, providing some small illumination, but not enough to see her expression.
He quickly moved away from the chair, lest his location give hers away.
Elle wedged herself as far into the corner as she could get and wrapped her arms around her knees. Her shaking was getting worse not better.
She wished Conrad would come back here and hold her. She felt safe with him, but she trusted that he had a reason for hiding her. There was some ambient light from phone screens and now that her eyes had adjusted to the dark, she could see that a man of Conrad’s size wouldn’t fit back here with her.
She began to rock in place, silently praying that her stalker wouldn’t find her.
She heard Sammy start to cry for his dad, and her heart went out to him. This was all her fault. She should never have come tonight. If she hadn’t, the sweet little boy she adored wouldn’t be frightened.
David scooped his youngest son up immediately and hushed him with soothing words as he looked around, trying to identify the rest of his family in the dim light.
“It’s just a power outage,” David called out to the guests. “Nothing to worry about—probably just a fuse or something.”
Someone had the foresight to open the curtains, but the rail and rings gave a metallic shriek as they were thrown open, which made people jump. A couple of the women screeched and at least one man’s voice added to the noise, which made Sammy’s grip on David’s neck tighten. He rubbed a soothing hand up and down his son’s back.
“It’s all right,” David murmured to his son. “I know you’re afraid of the dark, but I’ve got you. It’s okay, my little man.”
The street lighting filled the room, and while it wasn’t enough to see well by, he could make out Stacey and his older son, Simon, standing near the window.
Conrad was at the rear of the room, his gaze shifting between the room’s two possible entrances, the door to the front hallway and the door to the kitchen.
David called for Elle, but she didn’t answer, and when he caught Conrad’s eye, the other man nodded briefly, so David knew that wherever she was, she was safe.
The noise level rose as people began to stumble about in the dim light, calling for their spouses or partners.
“Quiet! Everybody stay still!” David admonished. He had recognized the same danger Conrad had; through the open curtains, he could see that the street lights still worked and the neighbor’s houses were still illuminated, which meant that they were the only ones without power.
Still, it could just be a fuse, and it did need checking out. Unfortunately, he couldn’t risk taking Sammy with him, and the poor boy was near strangling David in his fear.
“We need to check the fuse box,” he said to the guests.
He knew that Conrad would ordinarily offer to go and check, but his job was to protect Elle, and he couldn’t leave his post.
Conrad watched as people began to calm down. As they acclimated, though, he didn’t allow himself to relax. These people probably didn’t know the danger Elle was in. He did.
Planning an attack would account for why there were no new threatening emails from the psycho for over a day, and because of that, Conrad was positive that something bad was going to happen.
“I’ll go check the fuse box,” Marcus offered, surprising Conrad. He was a good choice, though, because he knew that Elle was being stalked so he knew to be careful.
Marcus had found his phone’s flashlight app, and he used it to illuminate his way. In such a dark room, the light was almost blinding.
“Where is it,” Marcus asked David.
“In the garage,” David explained. “It’s the first door on your right as you enter the house. The key should be in the lock, and the fuse box is on the left of the door, about five feet away.”
“Got it.” Marcus headed into the hallway.
“Be careful!” Conrad called after him.
He watched as the light bobbed and swayed as Marcus moved around to the other side of the door. Conrad listened for unusual noises.
Everyone else was calming down now that there was some light again . . . until they heard the sound of multiple things dropping on a hard surface, accompanied a masculine scream.
Elle jumped and felt her eyes tear up as she heard Marcus scream. If he was hurt because of her stalker, she would never forgive herself.
“Please be okay,” she began to chant silently. “Please be okay. Please be okay.”
David recognized the danger, and without conscious thought, he all but threw Sammy at Conrad, the individual he knew could best protect him, and he ran for the door. His military training kicked in, and he grabbed the best weapon he passed—a nearly full bottle of vodka from the drinks table. He held the neck of it, intending to use it as a club.
One other man, an agent from his firm, Robert, and a woman called Lisa from Sonic Music, followed behind David, ready to help. Safety in numbers was usually a good idea, so he didn’t tell them to stay put.
Conrad watched as the remaining guests edged hesitantly toward the door, eager to know what was going on but unwilling to put themselves in danger.
Aside from Stacey, who was calming down her older son, everyone had either followed David or was watching from the doorway. Conrad edged closer to the armchair and lifted Sammy behind it. The boy clung to him for dear life, however, until he could hear Elle whispering something to Sammy. She reached up and pulled him down beside her.
Conrad looked up and saw Stacey watching him, but she nodded, evidently agreeing with his decision.
Elle felt a moment of safety as she saw Conrad lean over the back of the armchair, but she realized he was holding Sammy and intending to leave him back there with her where it was safe.
She reached up and put her hands on his sides, whispering, “It’s all right, sweetie. Conrad needs to fight the bad man, so come stay back here with me. I’ll keep you safe.”
The boy finally let go of Conrad and turned to her, clinging like a limpet as she settled back down with him. She rocked him gently and whispered soothing nonsense into his ear.
“Shh. It’s okay, sweetie. We’re going to be fine. Conrad will keep us safe, you’ll see. We’re okay. We’re gonna be fine. Shh.”
She wished she believed her own words.
Although he kept glancing at the hallway door, Conrad faced the kitchen door, just in case this had all been a diversion. A few tense minutes followed, with only what they could overhear from the hallway to help piece together what was happening.
“It’s locked,” Robert said as he pushed on the garage door. The plan was for him to open the door and for David to rush in, brandishing his phone screen in one hand for light and his makeshift weapon in the other.
“No, it moves; it’s just blocked,” David noted. The door opened about an inch on each push. “Let’s try together.”
Robert and David both pushed while Lisa held the cell phone up so they could see what they were doing.
“Wait!” she cried after two pushes. “I saw cloth, I think it’s someone blocking the door, not something.”
“Shit!” David cursed. “Okay, I’m going around and in through the side door. You two stay here until I open it from the inside.”
He had used his Commanding-Officer voice, so they didn’t question his authority.
Exiting the house through the front door, David kept the bottle of vodka raised high above his head in case he should run into the intruder. There was just about enough light from the moon and street lighting for him to see his way down the side of the house.
The door that led from the garage into the garden was ajar by about six inches, but there wasn’t enough light to see detail by.
He pulled the door open and stood back, waiting for someone to rush out at him, but they didn’t. He pulled his phone from his rear pocket and lit the screen, shining it into the garage and making sure everything was clear before he entered. Luckily, they didn’t keep their cars in here; it was too full of equipment, like the lawnmower and other assorted crap. There was nothing big enough for anyone to hide behind.
He saw Marcus lying before the other door. Once he was sure it was clear, he rushed over and set the vodka bottle down.
“Marcus?” The other man didn’t respond, so David grabbed his arms and pulled his torso away from the door. “You can come in now,” he called, and Robert and Lisa opened the garage door and entered.
“Careful. Watch the crap on the floor,” he warned. Around Marcus was strewn the contents of a shelf—just small things like tubes of spackling paste, spatulas, paint testers, and old paint brushes—but they were small enough to trip on.
“Oh my God!” Lisa cried. “Is he okay?”
Marcus groaned and raised a hand to his head.
“Let’s get him to the living room, and we can better see what’s wrong with him.” He looked down. “Marcus, can you hear me?”
The other man opened his eyes.
“Do you think you can sit up?”
He groaned, but after a few seconds, he pushed himself into a sitting position.
They helped him up, and David supported his weight through to the sitting room, calling for Lisa to make sure the garage door was locked behind them. If he was still around, David didn’t want the stalker following them inside.
Stacey was growing tenser as time went on, wondering what had happened to David and praying that he was okay.
Why weren’t the lights back on? What had that cry been? Where was Marcus? Was he hurt?
The lack of answers made her worry, so she decided to be useful.
“Come on, Simon,” she said to her son. “Help me find the flashlight and candles, okay?”
They headed into the kitchen, and although hampered by poor lighting, they found the emergency candles. The flashlight seemed to be out of power. They did find a lighter, though, so Simon filled the candelabra with candles, and she lit them. They brought them into the living room, then lit the few ornamental candles already in there.
Keeping busy helped, but she didn’t relax until David returned with Marcus.
Marcus looked awful, but her husband was okay, and that was paramount in her mind.
Conrad watched as David helped Marcus into the room. Marcus’s arm around his shoulders. One side of his head and neck was covered in blood. David used his phone’s light to better see the injuries, and Conrad winced at the amount of blood he could see.
“Should I call an ambulance?” Stacey asked.
David nodded. “And the police.”
“No, I’m fine. Honestly, it’s just a scratch,” Marcus protested. He hadn’t struck Conrad as the courageous type, but he certainly seemed to be putting a brave face on things.
Stacey made the call despite his protests, and he didn’t argue again.
“I’ll go and see about the fuse box,” she said once she hung up.
“We’ll go with you,” Lisa said, clearly including Robert in her offer. They had become the official backup team of this blackout.
“Be careful,” Conrad warned. “Whoever did this could still be out there.”
They all nodded gravely and left.
Sixty seconds after she left, the lights flickered on.
“This is all a fuss over nothing,” Marcus grumbled. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” David pointed at a mirror, and when Marcus saw himself, he turned ashen at the blood trickling down the side of his face and staining his usually pristine shirt collar. He swayed a bit, but David kept a firm hand on his elbow, steadying him.
“Someone get him a chair?” David called, and a dining chair was quickly found and placed behind Marcus.
Stacey, Lisa, and Robert returned, and Stacey quickly fetched a tea towel to help staunch the blood flow.
“Right, well if you’ve got this,” David said to his wife, “I’ll just go and check the house and grounds and make sure he’s gone.”
“He is,” Marcus assured him.
“I thought you were unconscious when we found you?”
“But I saw him run away before I passed out.” He sighed deeply. “I think . . . I suppose I might be confused, or he might have come back.”
“Check the cupboards under the stairs,” Stacey suggested to her husband. “I think there’s a hockey stick in there.”
“Good idea.”
“Be careful,” Stacey told him.
David left, taking Lisa and Robert with him in a show of force. They armed themselves with two tennis rackets and the hockey stick. They weren’t exactly well prepared for a fight, but a lone attacker would think twice about taking all three of them on.
Elle clutched Sammy tightly behind the armchair as she crouched out of sight. At this point, she wasn’t sure who was comforting whom.
She couldn’t see anything of the wider room, obviously, but she could hear what was being said.
“How long will the ambulance be?” someone asked.
“Not long. I expect they’ll keep him overnight with an injury like that,” Stacey remarked calmly.
Elle’s heart was still pounding with fear, but there was another emotion creeping over her now too. Guilt.
Marcus was clearly seriously hurt because he had willingly put himself in danger for her. Had she misjudged him? All this time, she’d thought of him as little more than an irritating necessity, fussing over her clothing and her image.
How badly was he hurt? She wanted to stand up and see for herself, but she couldn’t seem to make her limbs move. It was easier to keep gently rocking Sammy.
Her bruised cheek seemed to throb in sympathy with Marcus’s plight, and she wished she could see how he was.
She sat there a little while longer, listening to the chatter, before she heard David return.
“There’s no sign of anyone, so I think we’re in the clear,” David stated calmly.
Conrad loomed large over the top of the armchair then, and gestured for her to come out, his powerful hands helping her stand with Sammy in her arms.
She felt embarrassed for hiding, especially when Marcus had been hurt, but she evidently lacked the bravery that he had so unexpectedly shown.
As Conrad guided her to sit down on the armchair, Sammy still in her arms, she could see that almost everyone was looking toward Marcus where he sat on the opposite side of the room. No one had seen her emerge from her hiding place, a thing for which she was grateful. She kept a tight hold of Sammy. He wrapped his legs around her waist and his arms around her neck, whimpering.
Conrad reached out and stroked the boy’s hair comfortingly, and Elle wished he’d do that to her. She could use his strong, reassuring touch to soothe her right now.
Minutes later, the blue flashing lights of an emergency vehicle shone through the windows, and David let the paramedics inside.
She finally got a good look at Marcus as they ordered everyone to stand back. She gasped, seeing why people had sounded so worried. The side of his head, his neck, the collar of his pristine white shirt, and his suit jacket shoulder were all covered in blood. She felt sick at the sight and kept Sammy’s head turned away to spare him.
She also learned what had happened when they asked how he’d been injured.
“The power went off, and I went into the garage to check the fuse box. Someone was waiting in there. I saw movement and just had time to turn my head to the side before something hit me.”
Thanks to Conrad’s height, he was able to see over the other guests to what the paramedics were doing, but he quickly retreated to Elle’s side.
“It’ll need stitches,” one paramedic said.
“Did you fall at all?” the other asked.
“Yes, he pushed me into a shelf, and I fell.”
“Lose consciousness?”
“I . . . don’t really know,” Marcus said, sounding confused. “I think so.”
“He was unconscious when I found him,” David added.
“How long for?” the paramedic asked.
“A minute or two maybe, no more.”
More flashing lights appeared outside, evidently the police. Elle listened closely to their questions and people’s answers. She gathered that the side door into the garage had been forced open, that the main switch on the fuse box had been turned off, and then someone had stood in wait for whoever came to check the box.
She wondered why he would try to get to her here where she was surrounded by people. And why would he attack Marcus?
Perhaps he hadn’t expected the internal door to the house to be locked and reacted with anger when it was, determined to hurt someone, even if it wasn’t her?
Or maybe he knew he’d have to go through someone to gain entry into the house, but when Marcus had blocked the doorway by falling unconscious in front of it, he’d panicked and decided to cut his losses.
Unless David was her stalker and he knew Marcus suspected him! This was David’s house, after all. He could have rigged the lights to go out on a timer. And why would he let Marcus check the fuse box in his own house? Unless he knew something bad was going to happen.
Oh God. Poor Marcus.
David confirmed to the officers that he’d checked the house and gardens but had seen no sign of whoever had broken in. The police checked again, just in case.
What if David’s second check of the house and grounds was a pretext to give him time to dispose of the timer and booby trap he’d set. Or maybe he hadn’t rigged anything, maybe he had a friend do it. She hadn’t kept her eye on everyone here tonight; one of them could have slipped away and later slipped back under the cover of darkness.
Another police car arrived, so there were four officers. The ambulance took Marcus to the hospital, several of the guests trailing out after him, wishing him well.
Elle continued to sit there and watch, feeling sick to her stomach that her friend had been hurt because of her.
The police took statements from everyone. David had obviously explained to them about her stalker because they asked her about him.
She really couldn’t tell them anything because she hadn’t seen anything.
They assured her that she had done the right thing by hiding, but no matter how many times people told her that, it still felt like cowardice.
By the time the police left, it was nearly eleven o’clock. The guests had left in dribs and drabs after they had been questioned about their view of events.
Sammy had finally fallen asleep and was tucked up on the couch under a blanket. His older brother, Simon, was trying not to join him in slumberland.
“Well, we should be making a move,” Conrad suggested. “It’ll take the best part of an hour to get back.”
“You’re welcome to sleep here,” Stacey offered, and David stiffened. As much as he loved Elle, he did not want his family put in further danger.
“Thank you, but I couldn’t,” Elle said with a tired smile, having noticed his reaction.
“I’ll cancel the photoshoot for tomorrow,” David offered.
“No, I want—” Elle began, wanting to keep as busy as possible but concerned she may put even more people around her in danger.
“It really would be better if she could keep working,” Conrad interjected.
“All right. If you think that’s best,” David conceded reluctantly.
“But what about if someone else gets hurt?” Elle worried.
“That’s on this psycho, not you,” Conrad assured her. “Besides, he seems to like evenings when he can hide in the shadows. We can cancel evening events if you’d feel more comfortable.”
She nodded her agreement. “Can we go and see Marcus on our way home?” Elle asked.
Conrad shook his head.
“Honestly, the cut wasn’t deep, love,” David assured her. “He’s probably been stitched up, sent home, and is already tucked in bed.”
“But there was so much blood!”
“Head wounds bleed a lot,” David tried to reassure her. “But I saw the cut myself. It was maybe an inch and a half long, right here.” He pointed above his left ear. “There are no important blood vessels there. Trust me, a couple of painkillers and he’s going to be fine.”
She reluctantly accepted his assessment. Stacey smiled sympathetically and called them a cab.
“Oh, don’t forget this.” David handed her the guitar, and Elle smiled wanly at him. She felt as if she had ruined their evening and didn’t deserve a reward. To refuse would be churlish, though, so she thanked them and apologized for what had happened.
“Be careful. And remember, this is not your fault,” Stacey said as she hugged her tightly.
Elle nodded, but it was hard to believe her. If it wasn’t her fault, why didn’t David want her in the house?
David hugged her tightly next and thanked her for looking after Sammy.
She was quiet on the journey home.
Conrad told the cab to drop them by Victoria Bridge, from where they hailed a second cab to take them the rest of the way. He had the second car drop them one street over from their temporary accommodations.
Elle obeyed everything he told her to do, but she didn’t utter one word.