I'm Watching You (21 page)

Saunders swallowed. His fingers clenched into tight fists.

The Guardian traced the flat side of the blade over the man's left
wrist. "Are you afraid?"

Defiant, Saunders clamped down on his gag. But the Guardian saw the
sweat beading on his upper lip.

"Fear is an uncomfortable feeling, isn't it, Mr.
Saunders?"

When he didn't budge, the Guardian traced the sharp blade over
Saunders's wrist. This time bravado gave way to terror.

"Fear is what Gail lives with every day. You put that fear inside
her. Didn't you?"

Saunders stared, his eyes wide as he shook his head "no."

"You enjoyed seeing her afraid. You enjoyed knowing you had total
power over her life." When Saunders didn't answer, the Guardian
drew the blade over the inside of his arm, splitting the skin and spilling
blood.

Saunders groaned as the pain burned.

"Did you enjoy hurting your wife?"

He nodded.

"And now you will be punished."

Saunders strained at his bindings. He screamed, the sound swallowed by
the gag.

"I shot Harold first and then took my trophy. But this
time..."

Saunders's muffled screams filled the room as the Guardian raised
the machete high. In one clean chop, he brought it down and severed
Saunders's left hand from his wrist. Blood splattered.

Saunders's eyes rolled back in his head and he pissed on himself.
He screamed through the gag. The thick scent of urine filled the air as the
coppery blood drained out of the stump on his left arm and pooled on the
basement floor.

Energy surged through the Guardian as life seeped from Saunders's
body. Nothing had ever felt sweeter.

"You should be feeling some relief now. Your sins have been
cleansed with your own blood."

Saunders's body began to shake. He was going into shock.

The Guardian watched, anticipating a river of blood. He expected
Saunders to bleed out in minutes, but as the minutes ticked by, the blood flow
began to slow. Ten minutes later the blood flow was little more than a trickle.
Saunders was still breathing.

"Damn." The arteries had sealed. "You're a tough
old bastard. Foolish to think I could destroy evil so easily."

Undeterred, the Guardian grabbed a knife from the workbench and sliced
through the femoral artery in Saunders's leg. Saunders screamed. And this
time the blood did flow. Saunders was dead in five minutes.

The Guardian hovered, mesmerized by the sight of Death, and with
trembling hands combed Saunders's hair until it was smooth. "There
are so many more to kill."

Wednesday, July 9, 5:30
A.M
.

Lindsay woke with a stiff neck and a dull
headache throbbing behind her eyes. She'd spent the better part of the
night tossing, turning, until finally around three
A.M
.
she'd fallen into a fitful sleep. She dreamt of eyes watching her.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, shoved her hands through
her tangled hair, and glanced at the clock. With a groan, she pushed out of bed
and walked to the pile of running clothes by her door. Most mornings, she ran
or did yoga. Physical exertion had a way of resetting the barometer in her body
no matter how messed up life felt.

Today, she didn't need quiet meditation. She needed to sweat, to
push her muscles until they burned, and to have endorphins flooding her brain.

She dressed in jogging shorts and a tank and slipped on running shoes.
Combing her fingers through her hair, she swept her thick blond strands into a
high ponytail and moved quietly into the kitchen. She didn't want to wake
Nicole, who was an extremely light sleeper.

The coffeepot, always set for 5:45
A.M
.,
was full of hot coffee. She poured a cup and sipped as she moved to the small
table by the bed, where she kept her cell phone on a charger next to her house
key. She glanced out the front window and searched for the morning paper. It
hadn't arrived. Frustrated, she took a few more sips of coffee and then
hooked the phone to her waistband. She did a few stretches to loosen up her
muscles.

Lindsay had a running buddy, Tasha Winters, and the two met near the
University of Richmond on Wednesdays at Bandy Field, a small park inside the
city limits. They started their workout with a few laps around the park's
large open sports field, and then they cut through either surrounding
neighborhoods or the university campus.

She arrived at the park a couple of minutes past six and found Tasha
stretching. Tasha was in her late twenties, petite, and had a tight muscular
build. She reminded Lindsay of a pixie--a term Tasha hated. Too many
people underestimated Tasha because of her small size, and all were surprised
to learn she was a cop and a member of Henrico County's canine unit.

Rex, Tasha's Belgian shepherd, sat next to her, quietly waiting,
watching, and ready to spring if she gave the command. The two had passed their
twelve-week training course just six months ago and already they were
inseparable. Rex was trained to find explosives.

Tasha saw Lindsay and waved.
"Happy
birthday."

She'd forgotten her own birthday. "Thanks."

"You look like hell."

Lindsay shrugged. "It's been one of those years."

"Tell me on the trail. We've got to get cracking. I've
got to be at headquarters by nine."

"Right."
The two started off at a slow jog
moving around the dirt path that circled the mile-long trail that cut through
the park. Even after a mile Lindsay's muscles didn't relax.
Normally during a run, this was when she hit her stride.

Tasha picked up her pace a notch, knowing Rex liked the workout.
"So, what's up?"

Lindsay struggled to match Tasha's gait. "Do you want the
long version or the short?"

"We've got five miles to go.
How about the
long?"

"Zack."

"Ah." Tasha had worked with both Lindsay and Zack and knew
their history. "Is he investigating the homicide at the shelter?"

"He's one of the detectives on the case."

"So how did it go seeing him?"

"Very weird.
I don't see him for a year
and now he's everywhere I turn."

Tasha frowned. "This can't be good."

"We went out to lunch yesterday. He took me to his parents'
restaurant."

"And?"
Tasha didn't sound happy.
She'd consoled Lindsay after the separation. She'd watched Lindsay
cry until she was nearly sick.

"It felt very odd."

"Sounds like you're having doubts about the divorce.
Again.
"

"No, I'm not. I need to finalize this."

"Then why haven't you?" The tension in her voice had
Rex perking up his ears. Tasha smiled at the dog to reassure him.

"I don't know." She was having trouble finding a
comfortable rhythm today.

Tasha wiped sweat from her brow, jumped over a pothole. "You know
his work always--
always
--comes first. And
don't forget that little thing called his drinking problem. Or the little
detour into that little cheesecake's bed."

The recap of Zack's faults made Lindsay cringe. "I
haven't forgotten any of it. There were times I wished I could forget,
but I haven't forgotten."

"Good."

Too many nights she longed for the old Zack. He'd been strong.
With him she'd felt safe, a feeling she'd not had in more years
than she cared to count. "He seemed different yesterday."

Tasha shot her a you've-got-to-be kidding
look
.
"Different how?"

Her heart raced and she found it harder to breathe evenly.
"Different in the way he used to be, before the drinking."

Tasha stopped and Rex halted. "You're joking."

Lindsay stopped. Sweat dripped from her forehead, stung her eyes.
"What? I'm just saying he seems different."

Tasha placed her hands on her hips. Her blue eyes looked as if they
could breathe fire. "Do you know what you sound like?"

Lindsay wiped her brow. "I know, I know.
One of
my clients."

"That's right. You sound like every woman whom you've
ever counseled. How many times have you wanted to pull your hair out because
one of
your
clients couldn't see the bad in the
man in her life?"

Lindsay's defenses went up. "Zack is far from perfect, but
he
is
a good man. He's not like the
others."

"Hey, don't get me wrong. Zack isn't a bad man.
He's flawed but he's good at heart. And I like Zack. He's one
of the best cops on the force and I wish him the best. But he's not
husband material."

Unshed tears stung Lindsay's throat, forcing her to swallow hard.
"I know."

"Look," Tasha said more softly, "my job here is not to
rip out your heart, stomp on it, and make you suffer. But I don't want
you to forget that you and Zack separated for very good reasons."

"You're right. You're right." Maybe if she said
it over and over it would sink into her own brain.

Tasha patted Lindsay on the shoulder. "There are a lot of really
nice fish in the sea, kiddo. And a lot of them don't come with the kind
of baggage Detective Kier has. Don't you have that nice doctor
who's interested?"

"Yes."

"Well?"

"Got it."
Only she wasn't interested in
the other fish. She wanted Zack. Wanted what they'd had in the beginning.

They finished their loop around the park and it came time to cross Three
Chopt Road and extend their run through the neighborhoods. Tasha went first and
as Lindsay followed a van unexpectedly rounded the sharp curve. The driver hit
the brakes and
blared
the horn.

Lindsay bolted the rest of the distance but paused on the side of the
road, her heart pounding in her chest. "Damn."

Tasha stopped. "Are you all right?"

Lindsay glanced at the van as it sped through the light a block away.
"Yes."

They started running through the neighborhood. The houses were small,
one story, and most were built in the 1940s. The lots were large and most of
the lawns were well manicured. Lindsay had always liked this neighborhood. She
loved the feeling she got when she drove through. If she lived in this area,
she could walk to get coffee or jog over to the university.

There was a house on Morgan Street that she had always loved. It was one
of the simpler houses and needed a lot of work. But there was a large bay
window in the front, and the backyard was huge and got at least five hours of
sun a day. She'd always been able to imagine herself filling the barren
yard with loads of flowers.

"Let's go by my house and see if it's still for
sale." She'd been ecstatic to learn that last month it had gone on
the market. She'd thought maybe she could put together some kind of
creative financing plan and swing the asking price--that is, until she
pulled the listing up on the Realtor's Web site and saw the actual cost.

Tasha grimaced. "Why do you torture yourself? It's too
expensive."

"A girl can dream." She grinned. "Besides, it's
my birthday, remember? You have to humor me."

"I'm going to humor you
only
because it's your birthday."

They rounded the corner and turned down her street. She'd loved
this street since the first time she'd jogged down here with Tasha a
couple of years ago. They came almost weekly, though in the last few weeks,
she'd been so absorbed with work that they'd had to cut their runs
short before they reached this neighborhood.

As Lindsay approached her house, she noticed the
FOR
SALE
sign was gone. For a moment she stopped. Her house had been sold.
She didn't realize until this moment how many dreams she'd pinned
on this house. "Somebody bought my house."

Tasha jogged in place. "Maybe it's for the best."

It didn't feel like it was for the best. "I guess."

Lindsay started to turn but spotted a Jeep in the driveway. The vehicle
was black, had a soft top and a dented back right fender. It looked like
Zack's Jeep. And then she noticed the unmarked police Impala parked in
front of it.

Zack
.

"What the devil are Zack's cars doing in the driveway of
my
house?" Lindsay said.

Tasha groaned when she saw the cars. "It's not your house,
Lindsay."

Angrily, she swiped sweat from her brow. "Yeah, I know, but
it's not
his
either."

"He could be the person who bought it."

Lindsay couldn't imagine why Zack would have bought the house.
He'd never really liked it. When they'd driven by it a few times,
he'd always complained that the place would be a money pit for whoever
bought it.

She clenched her fists. "He can't buy
my
house. He knows how much I love this place."

"Lindsay, you're sounding a little crazed and you're
getting worked up over a house that never belonged to you. Who cares what house
Zack buys?"

"Logically, I understand that what he chooses to do with his life
now is none of my business. I should just walk away." Instead she marched
up the driveway.

"Where are you going?" Tasha demanded.

"To find out why Zack bought my house." Lindsay stomped up
the front steps and knocked on the door. When there was no answer, she pounded
on it.

Tasha hovered in the driveway, not sure if she should run or drag Lindsay
off the porch. "This is insane. We don't even know if that's
Zack's car."

"It's Zack's." Footsteps sounded in the hallway
inside. Just to irritate him more, she banged on the door again.

"I'm coming!" Zack's voice boomed through the
closed door. There was no mistaking that he was pissed. Good. She could use a
good fight now.

The front door swung open. Zack wore suit pants, a dress shirt, and a
tie not yet knotted. His shirt cuffs were rolled midway up his forearms and his
gun holster and cuffs hung from his belt. He smelled faintly of soap and
aftershave. He held a cup of coffee in his hand.

Zack's gaze initially reflected annoyance, then confusion and then
understanding. "What are you doing here, Lindsay?"

The softness in his voice caught her by surprise and for a moment she
hesitated. God, she had lost her mind. Quickly, she regrouped. "Why did
you buy my house?"

He didn't smile, but his eyes sparked with amusement. "It
wasn't your house."

She planted her hands on her hips. "But you know I wanted to buy
it."

He sipped his coffee as if savoring this moment. "As I remember,
there were no other bidders on the house." He sounded so damn reasonable.

Sweat dripped into her eyes. She swiped it away. "But you knew I
loved this house."

His shoulders filled the doorjamb. "What do you want me to say,
Lindsay?"

She was acting like a lunatic.
Unreasonable.
And she didn't care. "Damn it, Zack. This is my house. You know how
much it means to me. Of all the houses in Richmond, why would you buy this
one?"

Her tirade didn't affect him in the least. "Care to have a
look around?"

The abrupt shift caught her off guard. "What?"

"Care to look around? I'd be happy to give you a
tour." And without taking his gaze off Lindsay, Zack added, "Tasha,
you and Rex are welcome to come in and look around as well."