Every Little Breath: A Tense Psychological Thriller Full of Twists

The man Casey Fallon knew as Rupert watched from the window of Kimberley House as Casey and the guy who lived on the ground floor approached his Audi. They both had their dogs with them, which was good. It had been fear of running into the noisy beagle that had kept him away from Casey’s apartment. They also had bags and a blanket, suggesting they were maybe going out for the day and wouldn’t be back for a while.

Casey was wearing a pretty little strappy red dress with white flowers dotted on the material, that fell mid-thigh, leaving her legs bare. Her dark hair was tied back and large sunglasses swallowed her face. ‘Rupert’, real name, Robert Brown, watched her settle the dogs on the back seat of the car, then straighten up. She smoothed the material of her dress down and he studied the curve of her breasts, imagined what underwear she might have on, and he brought her knickers to his face, breathing in the sweet musky fragrance and feeling himself harden. She was so pretty.

She closed the door and went to join her friend by the boot. Finn Murphy. Robert was sure that was his name, just as he was fairly certain he was a copper. Murphy was someone Robert tended to give a wide berth to, not wishing to draw attention to himself.

He watched Murphy hook an arm around Casey and draw her in close for a kiss.

So they were involved. He had suspected it, but hadn’t known for sure. Murphy had been with her last night. Robert had seen him through the peephole.

He imagined it was his arm around Casey, his lips touching hers. As they got in the car and disappeared down the long driveway to the road, he unbuttoned his jeans and slipped his hand inside, fondled himself as he continued to sniff the underwear, imagined Casey was here with him right now.

She was the prettiest resident he had come across so far. Robert had taken underwear from most of the females living in the building, but he had lost interest in everyone except Casey Fallon. That was why he was eager to get back into her apartment. With both her and the dog gone it was the perfect opportunity. She wouldn’t miss another pair of knickers and maybe he could take a little time to have a poke around her place.

He left it for twenty minutes, wanting to be certain that they definitely didn’t come back, then he let himself out of the place where he had been staying and crept across the landing to Casey’s apartment, unlocking the door and stepping inside.

Closing the door behind him, he took in the light and airy space. Since he had last been here, she had rearranged a few things to better suit the layout of the apartment and everything now seemed in its rightful place. The faint smell of bacon and coffee clung to the air. Two plates, two cups and two sets of cutlery were washed up and sitting on the drainer. Murphy had definitely stayed the night.

He spent a moment snooping through her things, looking at the pictures she had collated in a frame and put up on the wall, guessing that the people featured were probably family. There was a woman in a hippy dress and floppy hat posing beside an elephant, the same woman featured in another photo with a man who had greying hair. She was Casey’s mother he assumed from the similar dark eyes and wide smile, so the man with her was probably Casey’s dad. Then there were pictures of two men, one with curly black hair and a surfboard, another looking tanned and toned, sitting on a motorbike. A photo of both men with their arms around Casey, who was centre of the picture, suggested that she had two brothers.

He helped himself to a glass of juice, careful to rinse, dry and return the glass to the cupboard, nosed through her post and rooted through a few drawers, though there was nothing there that was of any interest to him, then he made his way down the hallway to where the real treasure was.

Casey’s bedroom was filled with feminine smells and Robert went to the dresser first, sniffing at the various bottles and jars, looking through the trinket box that contained rings, bracelets and delicate-looking earrings. He glanced at the wrought-iron bed, the patchwork quilt neatly pulled across and crease-free and imagined Casey asleep.

Was she a side sleeper or did she lie on her back, or even her front? And did she have a preferred side or hog the whole mattress? She would sleep naked, he was certain of that. He was growing hard again, a picture of her in bed, her hair splayed on the pillow and her mouth slightly ajar, forming in his mind, when he remembered that Murphy had stayed overnight, knew that he would have slept in this bed beside her. He may have had his arm around her while she slept, almost certainly would have had sex with her right in this spot, pumping his filthy seed into her.

Robert was sick at the idea and couldn’t shake it from his mind. Angered by the image, he turned back to the dresser, opening the drawers where he knew Casey kept her underwear.

He had several pairs of knickers and a couple of bras out and was debating what he could get away with taking, trying to figure out what pieces she wouldn’t notice were missing, when there was a very distinctive click. He recognised it immediately.

A key turning in a lock.

They were back.

He froze in horror, panic burning through his veins, the sound of the door opening spurring him into action. Quickly, he stuffed the underwear back into the drawers, holding on to just one pair of knickers, then glanced around, wondering where the hell he was going to hide.

If the copper found him here he would be… honestly, he couldn’t even consider it.

There was the bed, but would he be able to get under it quick enough? Or the wardrobe.

That was the safest bet. It was a built-in one and looked big enough.

If Casey came in here, though, and opened it…

He couldn’t think about that. If it happened then he would have to try and figure out a way to deal with it.

As quietly as possible, he crept across the room and eased the door open, climbing inside. He pulled the door shut, peering through a tiny crack, and waited.

It was really quiet in the apartment and all he could hear were footsteps, but it sounded like there was only one set. And there was no talking. Had Casey returned alone?

That gave Robert a bigger dilemma. How would he react if Murphy wasn’t with her? He was in her apartment, alone with her. He had never found himself in this situation before. Usually, he just went for the underwear and left. But if she found him hiding in her wardrobe, what might he do in the heat of the moment?

He held still, tried not to breathe too heavily. It felt like there was little air in the wardrobe and surrounded by Casey’s clothes, the scent of her fabric conditioner filling his senses, he bent forward slightly so he didn’t hit the hangers; it was uncomfortably hot. Sweat beaded on his top lip and ran down the sides of his face.

After what seemed like ages, but was probably only a few minutes, the footsteps sounded in the hall that led down to the bedroom and a figure entered the room.

Robert tried to see if it was anyone he might recognise, but the angle wasn’t quite right, the figure dressed in a cap and dark clothing had their back to him. He could see enough, though, to realise that it wasn’t Casey and it wasn’t Murphy.

So what were they doing here?

And then he saw the tiny device, realised exactly what the person was doing, and he couldn’t help but wonder, why would someone want to bug Casey Fallon’s apartment?