Every Little Breath: A Tense Psychological Thriller Full of Twists

Friday passed in a whir of activity, Casey barely able to think straight as she dealt with yet another visit from the police. They then wanted her to go over to the radio station with them, which delighted her boss, Justin, especially when he was dragged into answering their questions, too, and he didn’t look overly thrilled when the detectives announced they would be sitting in on Casey’s show on Monday night.

Finn was there for some of it, talking with the leading detective, their hushed conversation getting heated at one point. From what Casey could make out, DC Walsh from the Major Investigation Team did not like Finn, who was in the Crime Investigation Department, poking his nose into what Walsh now viewed as his case. He hadn’t looked overly impressed that Finn had been in the studio with Casey on Thursday night, though she guessed there wasn’t a whole lot Walsh could do about that. It had been off the clock and Finn had been there as a friend. As much as he had annoyed her last night, she preferred the idea of being with him rather than a couple of officious detectives who kept making her feel like she had done something wrong.

Finn had exchanged a couple of glances with Casey, but they hadn’t spoken, and when he had eventually left, he hadn’t looked happy.

They hadn’t talked much after leaving the radio station following her Thursday night show. Casey was in shock, sick to her stomach over the email she had received, while Finn was mostly silent as he drove home, and she suspected his mind was working overtime as he considered the threat and how best to deal with it.

Casey still hadn’t forgiven him for the shitty stunt he had pulled, kissing her and then backing off when she had reacted, leaving her feeling both stupid and confused, but she had put that to one side after the email came in, relieved that he was with her and she didn’t have to deal with Psycho Steven while she was in the studio all alone.

When they had arrived home, it had been a muted parting of ways. Casey had thanked him for coming with her, though kept her distance in case he tried to pull another move on her, then gone upstairs alone to her own apartment, where she had a restless night, unable to sleep because every time she closed her eyes all she kept doing was replaying the bloody kiss.

At some point she was going to have to address her feelings for Finn and figure out exactly what it was that she wanted. For now, though, she had put them into a box to come back to later.

After the chaos of the day, she jumped at a late invitation from Ricky to go to the cinema with him, switching off her brain as they enjoyed a laugh-out-loud comedy, then grabbed a bite to eat from Ricky’s favourite takeaway shop. As they sat down by the river enjoying the warmth from the early evening sun and munching on kebabs, they laughed about the movie, the conversation becoming more serious when Ricky made a joke about Psycho Steven.

Casey debated about whether to say anything to him, knew DC Walsh had urged her to stay quiet about the email. Ricky knew her too well, though, picking up that something was wrong, just from how she went quiet and her expression became guarded.

‘Something else has happened, hasn’t it?’

‘What?’

‘You can’t fool me, Casey. It’s written all over your face.’

She would never make a good poker player. Both Ricky and Zoe could read her like a book. ‘He emailed the show late last night,’ she admitted. Walsh had asked her to stay quiet, but Ricky already knew most of what was going on. Besides, he was one of her closest friends and she needed to have someone to talk to.

When his eyes widened, she told him about Saffron’s murder and then what the email had said.

‘Jesus, Casey. Are the police taking this seriously? Psycho Steven seems to have a hard-on for you.’

Casey winced at the crude terminology. Typical Ricky though. Say it as it was. ‘I’ve been with them for most of the day, so yeah, I would say they are.’

Talk of the murder and Psycho Steven killed her appetite, the food she had already eaten sitting heavy in her stomach, and as she got up to throw the rest of her kebab away in the nearby bin, Ricky immediately grabbed at her hand. ‘Hey, whoa, wait a minute. What are you doing?’

‘I’m not really hungry.’

‘It’s polite to offer first.’

‘You’ve just eaten a whole kebab yourself.’

‘And I’m a growing lad.’ Ricky patted at his flat stomach. ‘Besides, I don’t like to see waste.’

‘Of course you don’t.’ Casey rolled her eyes, but handed over the food as asked, amazed at the huge bite he took, almost devouring the half kebab she had left.

‘So was Detective Dishy with you last night?’ he mumbled through his mouthful, spitting out bits of lettuce.

‘You are disgusting. And Detective Dishy? Does anyone other than my mum actually use the word “dishy”?’

‘I think it’s a fine word. Anyway, stop dodging the question. Was he with you?’

‘Yes,’ Casey admitted.

‘And?’

‘And he stayed during the show, kept me company exactly how you and Zoe did.’

Liar. She ignored the annoying voice. There was no way she was telling Ricky about the kiss. Absolutely no way. That stayed a secret until she had decided what to do about it.

Some people will do anything to get their fifteen minutes of fame and that includes the next lady to grace my table.

Lucy Sheldon started out as a budding young reporter for one of the local newspapers and during the early part of her reporting career she was fortunate enough to cover the Steve Noakes murder trial, coining such headlines as ‘How Norfolk’s own Fred West Hunted for his Victims’ and ‘Sicko Steve’s Torture Hellhole Revealed’. Using the serial killer to climb the ladder, she moved to London, working at a couple of the big tabloids before deciding she would write a true-crime book based on – you guessed it – her meal ticket, Steve.

Despite being picked up by a major publisher and touted as the next big thing, the book flopped, and Sheldon eventually returned to Norfolk older, jaded and still desperately looking for her next vehicle; that one that was really going to make her into a star.

She is now an ‘Influential’ (define that as you will) Instagrammer and YouTuber with a fairly decent following, blogging and offering support to victims of serious crime, though still wanting something big that is going to lift her to the next level.

I am going to give her that break, but little does she know quite how she is going to get it.

Lucy Sheldon has built her career on the backs of other people, especially those less fortunate than herself. While Steve Noakes languishes in jail, Lucy has cashed in on his name. Therefore, when she gets my carefully worded email, she is quick to jump at my proposal.

Now most women would not be up for meeting a stranger in a remote location late at night, but Lucy is power hungry and knows that to get ahead in life you have to take risks.

She also has videos on YouTube where she teaches women how to defend themselves if attacked. Quite ironic really how I catch her off guard, overpowering her more easily than most of the women I take.

As I drive her home I am excited that Lucy will finally get to see for herself what the inside of a serial killer’s lair looks like and understand for the first time how it really feels to be a victim. I am going to ensure that she is famous, that she goes down in history, but first I need to make her understand that those fifteen minutes she wants so badly come at a really high price.

Casey had put Finn in a box and marked it as to deal with later, but that didn’t help when they both lived in the same building, and it was inevitable that she was going to keep bumping into him.

After returning home from the cinema she took Phoebe for a short walk around the grounds of the house, her heart catching when she spotted Bert up ahead, nose in the flower beds, knew that Finn would be close by.

As Bert heard their approach, glanced up, a grin on his doggy face as he spotted them, bounding towards Phoebe, all shaggy coat and tongue, Finn appeared round the corner, the surprise on his face when he saw Casey turning into a smile.

‘You okay?’ he asked, as he wandered over, looking far too good to her tired eyes.

Casey glanced down at the dogs to check they were playing nicely. Bert was scurrying along after Phoebe with his nose up her bum again, but she didn’t seem bothered now she was getting used to him. ‘Yeah, manic day. It’s nice to finally have some downtime.’

‘I came upstairs to see you earlier.’

‘You did? Why?’

She must have looked a little startled, because his smile widened. ‘Don’t panic. I just wanted to check on you. You were pretty stressed when I saw you today.’

She processed that bit of information, not sure if she was touched that he had cared enough about her to want to know how she was or was freaked out by the reminder that she was now that accessible to him that he could easily show up at her apartment whenever he wanted. ‘I was stressed. They just kept asking the same questions again and again. I don’t think they believe me.’

Finn studied her for a moment, giving a little nod. ‘Yeah they do. They’re just doing their job.’

‘I was out.’

‘Sorry?’

‘You said you came upstairs to see me. I was out.’

‘Yeah, I kind of figured that when you didn’t answer,’ he told her, looking amused. ‘Either that or you were hiding from me.’

‘I went to see a movie with Ricky. I just needed to switch off, try and forget about everything for a bit.’ Why was she telling him this? He didn’t need to know the details. She was babbling. A bad habit of hers.

‘Okay. And do you feel more relaxed?’

‘A little, I guess.’

‘Why don’t you take Phoebe back upstairs, then come down to my place. I have something that will help you relax.’

Casey’s eyes widened, her mouth dropping open. ‘What?’

For a second Finn looked slightly confused by her reaction, then he burst out laughing. ‘Brandy. I have brandy.’

‘Brandy?’

‘Yes, I was suggesting you come downstairs for a nightcap. Jesus, what did you think I meant? Get your mind out of the gutter, Fallon. You’re sex-obsessed.’ He gave her a sly smile. ‘Of course, we can negotiate other stuff if you really want to.’

‘Negotiate?’ She spluttered the word. If her cheeks weren’t flaming before then they were now, and she was just relieved it was almost dark and he couldn’t see her properly.

‘You getting your hands on my body. I’m open to being bribed.’

‘No need. And that was not what I was thinking,’ she lied, though knew she had been caught out.

‘But what about the nightcap? Are you up for that?’

Casey thought back to what had happened the last time she had been in Finn’s apartment. It was a bad idea. ‘I’m knackered, so I’m going to pass, but thank you.’

‘Okay, well the offer is there if you change your mind.’

From the cocky smile on his face, Casey was pretty certain he was no longer talking about the brandy.

Saffron Pollard was a struggler, fighting for every last breath, and I appreciated that, but Lucy Sheldon is an actress. She is putting on a performance for me, imagining the cameras are rolling, trying to plead with her eyes. We have just had a chat (that’s as in, I talked, she listened) and she now understands exactly who I am and how she fits into this game.

I get her type. She is a barterer. When I give her the opportunity to speak, she will beg and plead with me, offering her services. Lucy wants to be famous and she really wants to be alive. She will throw anyone necessary under a bus to achieve both of those things.

Unfortunately, for Lucy Sheldon it is not going to play out that way.

Casey considered Finn’s thinly veiled offer as she stepped into the shower, which led to her imagining his body pressed against hers, lips, hips and thighs touching, his hands on her back, on her bum, his tongue in her mouth, on her breasts, between her legs.

Cursing his name, she turned the temperature to the coolest setting, but as she dried herself with the towel she was already warming up, the frustration creeping back in.

She kept her relationships short and sweet, making sure that when it came to severing ties, it was clean-cut. It wouldn’t be that way with Finn. He lived in the same building and it would be impossible to avoid him.

Slipping on a skimpy cotton vest, she fetched an ice-cold bottle of water from the fridge and took a long drink, knew she was exhausted and frustrated after a long day. All she needed to do was go to sleep. The horny feeling would pass.

Except it didn’t, and she spent fifteen minutes tossing and turning, sleep seeming a million miles away.

Eventually the Devil won. Finn was an itch that she needed to scratch. Damn the consequences. She would figure out a way to deal with them in the morning.

She didn’t bother to dress, crept downstairs in her skimpy vest and knickers, a not particularly discreet robe hiding her modesty, hoping to hell none of her neighbours were still up.

Praying that Stuart and Dee Beharrie didn’t open their door, she knocked on Finn’s, willing him to answer. When he did he didn’t seem surprised to see her, lips curving in appreciation as he looked her up and down.

‘You changed your mind on that nightcap, then?’

Casey nodded, took that step between them, her intentions clear. It was a plunge off the cliff that she would figure out a way to deal with later.

Was she making a huge mistake?

But then Finn’s hands were cupping her arse, the door had closed and she was pressed up against it, his mouth on hers, showing her how badly he wanted her, and there was no going back.

As he pulled her closer, lifting her up so her toes barely touched the ground, trailing hot, tormenting kisses down her neck, she hooked her legs around his thighs, let him carry her through to his bedroom.

When it is time for Lucy Sheldon’s performance, I will dress her and I will pose her. Saffron Pollard was a warning shot, Lucy will show that I mean business, and she will hopefully provide enough clues for Casey and her arrogant copper friend to start joining the dots. Before her performance, though, it is time for my own personal indulgences. After all, it would be unfair for me to do all this work and not reap any of the rewards. For the next three days, Lucy is my house guest and I have so many fun things planned for her.

I consider my tools carefully, deciding how I will torment her first. This time, I have to be careful not to get carried away. I must not go too far. Saffron almost didn’t make it off my table and that would have been a catastrophe.

That is why I am playing it differently this time. I never spoke to Saffron until we were in the cow shed, preferring to draw out her fear through my silence, but Lucy reacts better to words, so I am giving them to her, considering it a kind of foreplay as I taunt her by going into detail about how I am going to hurt her. By the time I take out my knives she is hysterical.

I choose my favourite one, resting the blunt edge against her cheek, slowly tracing it down her jaw and neckline and teasing it across her throat. She goes very still, begging me with her eyes, and I dip the knife lower, enjoying this game, feeding off her fear as she tries to prepare for the first cut.

It won’t come yet. I need to pace myself with Lucy, stay in control, and unfortunately for her, that means she has a long night ahead of her.