In the Shadows

Chapter 3

      At eight o'clock there was a soft knock at the door. Right on time, Michael thought as he opened the door. She stood there wearing a jeans and a jacket with a hoodie over her head. "Just in case your neighbours are watching," she said, "We want to keep our little affair quiet don't we?"

"Yes, good thinking," he replied as he ushered inside. "Take a seat. Would you like a drink?"

Before Stacy answered she removed her jacket revealing a low cut sleeveless black top. He couldn't help staring in admiration at her beautiful breasts which were almost falling out of her top. She noticed his reaction and giggled. "Yes I know, silly me. I left in such a hurry tonight I forgot to put on a bra."

Lust welled up inside him. "Forget the drink," he said, grabbing the girl by her hand, "Let's go to the bedroom. How many positions did you say you know?"

***

Sitting in his office at work with the door closed Luke called the police station.
"Detective Townsend, please," he said, "It's urgent."

"I'm sorry," replied the voice at the other end of the line, "Detective Townsend is on long service leave. I'll put you through to Detective Linda Cummings. She's handling his caseload while he's away."

"Ah Mr Paterson," the detective said after he told her who he was, "You must have heard on the news about Ms Mills being on the loose again. I'm sorry I didn't get in touch with you. I've been overloaded with cases these last few weeks and this one was given a low priority."

"Low priority?" Luke spluttered, "Summer killed two of my friends. She's a murderer, a psychopathic killer, and she's after me again."

"After you again? Have you seen her?"

Luke went on to explain about seeing a person in the shadows over the last few nights.

"Hmmm, it might be nothing, but as a precaution we'll put your flat under surveillance during the evenings. If you see her give me a call immediately, or call triple o."

Luke breathed a sigh of relief as he hung up the phone, but he wasn't completely satisfied. Summer was very clever. She might find a way of evading the police and still get to him.

***

"Stacy, have you seen Michael this morning?" The question came from John Matthews, one of the senior partners of the law firm, "He's over an hour late."

Stacy looked up from her computer. "No I haven't. Would you like me to call him?"

Ten minutes later she reported to Matthews that she had tried both his home number and his mobile with no answer. She had left a message.

As the day wore on and there was no sign of Michael Anderson, Matthews became increasingly worried. Anderson was usually very reliable. If he couldn't make it into work for some reason he would have called. He may have had an accident. That night Matthews made a detour on his way home to his missing employee's house. As far as he knew Anderson lived on his own. He rang the doorbell and knocked several times with no response. The garage door was closed and locked so he couldn't tell if Anderson's car was there.

He walked around to the back of the house. The first thing he saw was the broken window next to the back door, and the door itself was slightly ajar. Now he was worried. It looked like someone had broken in through the window and let themselves out through the back door. He cautiously stepped through the doorway which lead to a laundry, then to the kitchen. "Michael?" he called, "It's John. Are you here? Do you need help? I'm coming in."

The house was silent and almost dark as the sun had set and twilight was setting in. He flicked on the kitchen light. The room was reasonably tidy with a few dishes in the sink, a bottle of unopened wine on the bench. He walked into the lounge room, turning on the light. Everything looked normal there too. Then he turned to the hall which had two doors opening off each side. He had once visited Anderson and remembered that the hall lead to three bedrooms and a bathroom. He called out again, but was greeted with silence.

He checked each room. First the bathroom on the left, bedroom on the right, and another bedroom on the left. All looked perfectly normal and tidy. That left one room, the master bedroom at the end of the hall on the right. The door was partly open and a slightly foul stench emanated from within. With some trepidation he pushed it fully open, reached in and turned on the light, and then stepped into the room. He wished he hadn't!

The bed was made, but the rest of the room was in chaos. Every cupboard door was open with clothes lying all over the floor. Drawers had been pulled out of the bedside tables and their contents scattered on the floor. But his eyes were drawn to the ghastly sight at the foot of the bed. The naked body of Michael Anderson lay on its side on the floor in a puddle of congealed blood. The side of his head was caved in, his eyes staring unseeing in Matthews' direction with a look of horror.

Matthews groaned in shock, then rushed to the back door, just making it outside before he emptied the contents of his stomach onto the lawn. He sat down on the back step breathing heavily as he pulled out his phone and called triple 0. As he waited for the police and ambulance he tried to make sense of what he had just found. Why would someone kill Anderson? It looked like the room had been burgled. Is that what it was, a robbery gone wrong? Anderson must have arrived home and found an intruder in the house who had bashed him to death and then made his escape.

It wasn't long before he heard the sounds of approaching sirens. He walked around to the front of the house to meet them.