15. Eva
CHAPTER 15
EVA
In a few minutes, we’re in the car, heading to our first destination of the day. Mandy tosses her makeup bag onto the floor, revealing a yellow folder that matches the ones we get at the office. “Okay… target is Rachel Jones. Pretty boring name, though. I was hoping for something more exciting,” she says, sounding disappointed.
“Thirty-one, unemployed, married, and has a cat named Jimmy. She’s at a spa retreat at the Graduate by Hilton Providence. Her husband suspects she’s here with someone else. At least the cat has a more interesting name than she does.”
I scoff as Mandy compares Rachel’s name to her cat’s. “I’m guessing Jimmy is the real star of this show.”
Mandy rolls her eyes. “Ugh, don’t get me started. I need a more exciting case. Something with a little drama, you know? Like, ‘Rachel Jones is secretly a spy for the government’ or ‘Rachel Jones is dating a mob boss.’”
I glance over at her, a teasing smile tugging at my lips. “You really want a mob boss, don’t you?”
Mandy grins. “Who doesn’t want to be in the middle of some Italian mafia drama?”
“Me,” I say, keeping my eyes on the road. “I like my drama served with a side of peace and quiet, thanks.”
Mandy huffs, “Wow, Eva. Way to burst my mafia fantasy bubble.”
“Sorry,” I say with a grin. “Next time I’ll try to get you a mob boss case. For now, enjoy the cat drama.”
Mandy flicks her hand dismissively. “Fine, fine. But don’t be surprised if I start suspecting that Jimmy is running a secret cat mafia or something.”
I chuckle. “Could be. He’s probably got connections we don’t know about.”
She checks the file again, then says, “Okay, so here’s the kicker—her husband suspects she’s here with someone else. So Rachel’s out here living her best life while her husband is sweating back home. Total soap opera stuff.”
I smirk. “I’m definitely not tuning in to that drama.”
“You’re no fun,” Mandy teases. “But hey, at least she has some spice in her life, unlike us.”
“I don’t need the spice. I’m good with my regular schedule of ‘wake up, go to work, repeat.’”
Mandy raises an eyebrow. “Sounds boring.”
“Not boring,” I reply. “Just… peaceful.”
She snorts. “We’re in the stalker business, Eva. I think a little spice is basically a requirement.”
I roll my eyes and adjust the volume. “Okay, okay. No mafia drama for you. But the cat’s still the most interesting part of this case.”
Mandy grins and grabs her phone to scroll through the details again. “She’s got a husband who suspects her of cheating and a cat named Jimmy. You’re right—this is real high-stakes.”
I laugh. “It’s basically the Real Housewives of Providence. But with more cats.”
I quickly turn up the volume before quickly glancing her way, “Isn’t it your job as the passenger princess to be the DJ?” She gives me a look, eyebrows raised. “Passenger princess? Yes. DJ? Absolutely not.” she tells me before going back to the folder.
“Definitely a royal pain my arse,” I mumble as ‘Breakaway’ by Kelly Clarkson thumps through the speakers. Mandy glances back towards me slowly, “Did you say something?”
There is no way, I am repeating what I just said if I want to make it out of this car alive. I point to the Sat Nav in between us, “We’re here.”
Mandy’s phone dings from a notification just as I bring the car to a stop at the side of the road, making sure we have a clear view of the hotel. “Adam’s just messaged, she’s currently booked in to attend a Pilates class in ten minutes.” She says, showing me the message thread on her phone.
My eyebrows raise as I catch the previous messages between them, “Wait a damn minute, did I just see him say ‘I can’t wait to see you sweetie’?” I watch her cheeks flush as she snatches her phone out of my hand. “No, mind your own business.”
“Whatever you say, sweetie, ” I reply, reaching under my seat for the camera. I set it up on the dash, angling it to get the perfect shot. My mind flashing back to yesterday morning, imagining the mystery man doing the same, carefully framing his own photo of me.
I glance towards Mandy as she sits forward and starts wiggling in her seat with a smile, “God, it’s been so long since I got in on the action!”
Giving her a grin, I adjust the camera angle trying once more to get the perfect view of the entrance, “Desk duty getting boring, huh?”
She rolls her eyes, also focusing her gaze on the hotel door. “Oh, you know it,” she says, practically bouncing in her seat. “Rachel Jones better put on a show, or I’m filing a complaint.”
Just as I go to respond, the main doors slide open. A woman steps out, looking fresh from a playboy magazine with her blonde hair slicked back in a high ponytail, while wearing a bright pink sports bra and matching yoga pants, completely oblivious to us watching her every move.
Mandy’s face lights up with the thrill she’s missed as we confirm it's the same woman in the photograph clipped on the front of the folder.
“Go, go go!” She shouts as if we’re in a police chase.
Pushing the gear in to drive, I throw the camera in to Mandy’s lap
“Don’t get rusty on me now, get recording.” I tell her with a wink as we drive off after the vehicle Rachel climbed into seconds ago.
Mandy flies backward into her seat, scrambling to catch the camera as it hurtles toward the floor when I press on the gas. “Fucking hell, a bit of warning would be nice,” she gasps.
I make sure to keep my distance as Mandy shouts directions at me.
Finally, the car with Rachel in, comes to a stop outside a studio.?“You are the worst backseat driver.” I say out loud as Mandy passes the camera back to me as we see Rachel get out of the car carrying a bag.
“First of all, I am a great driver, second-she didn’t have that bag before did she?” Mandy asks.
I sit forward slightly trying to get a better view ignoring her first statement, “No she didn’t. That’s strange, the windows are too dark for me to get a visual of the driver. Write down the plate for us to check later.”
As the car drives away, I keep the camera trained on Rachel as she disappears into the studio. “Think she’s meeting someone in there?” I ask, adjusting the focus.
Mandy squints, still eyeing the door. “Maybe… but from what I can see, it’s only females going inside.”
We sit in tense silence, watching the steady flow of people entering the building. Every second feels drawn out, the weight of the moment hanging in the air. My fingers drum nervously against the wheel as I try to steady my breath. Mandy finally breaks the quiet with a sigh. “I’m going to get a coffee, want one?”
“Please, iced caramel latte with no sugar,” I reply, my voice strained as I keep my eyes glued to the camera, not letting it leave my grip. Every shift in movement, every small detail could mean something important.
The passenger door creaks open, the familiar sound of Mandy getting out—leaving me alone with the silence. I grab my camera bag, setting it carefully on the dash in case I need to change the battery, and pull out my eye masks from the glove box. I’ve barely got one on when the sharp sound of a bike revving past the car makes my heart skip a beat.
I freeze. My eyes snap to the mirror just as the bike, carrying two riders, disappears down the road Mandy just went down. “Reckless idiots,” I mutter to myself, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling that’s creeping up my spine. But then something shifts, something’s off .
The rev of the engine cuts through the air again, louder now, more deliberate. I whip my head around, every nerve on high alert, as people nearby start staring down the road.
The bike is back. But this time, it’s different. There’s only one rider.
I hold my breath.
The biker slows, coming to a stop at the corner. The figure on the bike turns slowly facing my direction. And that’s when I see it.
The glowing red mask.
The cold, soulless eyes staring back at me from behind it send a shock wave through my body. My heart drops into my stomach as flashes from last night flood my mind. That red glow… it’s that mask. It matches the glow I saw fading over the balcony edge.
It can’t be… can it?
Goosebumps prick my skin as my body tenses, my muscles locked in place. I don’t even know how to react. I watch in the mirror, waiting for something to happen. The rider doesn’t move, but the mask— that glow —feels like it’s burning a hole right through me.
And then, as quickly as he came, the biker turns around, fading from my view. The roar of the engine fades into the distance, leaving nothing but the echo of my racing heartbeat in my ears.
I sit frozen, eye masks still clutched in my hand, my body buzzing with adrenaline, a strange sense of déjà vu creeping in. The feeling of last night, the terror, the unknown, it all rushes back with force. I can’t breathe. The air feels too thick, too heavy, but I can’t pull myself away from the mirror.
Minutes pass, but they feel like hours. I glance between the studio door and the road, searching for any sign of movement, anything to distract me from the heaviness weighing down on my chest. But there’s nothing. No sign of Rachel, no sign of the masked rider.
The sound of the car door swinging open snaps me from my daze, and I jump, my heart hammering in my chest. My eye masks slip from my hand and tumble to the floor as Mandy practically bursts back in, her face lit up like she’s just won the lottery. “Guess what!” She’s practically glowing, eyes wide with excitement as she hands me the coffee. “A guy came into the coffee shop and asked me out on a date! Can you believe it?”
I stare at her, completely speechless for a moment, my mind still racing with the image of that red mask. “Mandy, are you serious? Do you even know him?”
She wiggles her eyebrows, oblivious to the storm swirling in my head. “Not yet. All I know is his name’s Parker, he’s about 6’1”, brown hair, green eyes, and girl , the tattoos! He has tattoos. And he’s picking me up at seven!”
I blink, trying to process the information, but it’s like I’m hearing it through a fog. My mind can’t quite make sense of it. My thoughts jump back to the biker, to the flash of red, to the lingering sense of danger I can’t shake. “You didn’t give him our address, did you?” I ask, my voice tight, though I know the answer. There’s no way she’d be that careless.
Mandy rolls her eyes. “Of course I did! How else will he find me? Don’t ruin this for me, Eva!”
I can’t help the shock that floods my system. Who is this woman? My overprotective Mandy would never do something this reckless. Not like this.
Before I can say anything else, the studio doors fly open. Rachel steps out, flustered, trailing behind a group of women. She waves down a taxi, and my focus snaps back to her, to the task at hand.
“We’ll talk about this later,” I mutter, the words catching in my throat as I force myself to focus on Rachel, pushing aside the unsettling feeling that refuses to leave me
Nothing much happened while we followed Rachel around. She led us to a farmers market, where Mandy discovered some “ healing ” honey she swore would change her life. Then we stopped at Sephora, where I picked up a few essentials for myself before tailing Rachel back to her hotel.
Now it’s six-fifteen PM, and Mandy is standing in front of the mirror in her room, holding up outfit after outfit, trying to decide what to wear for her date. “How do you know he’s not a serial killer?” I ask, watching her toss a blue dress onto the floor like it insulted her.
She picks up a sleek black strapless dress and holds it against herself, completely ignoring my question. She twirls a little, admiring her reflection. “What about this one?”
I cross my arms. “You look amazing, but you didn’t answer me. How do you know he’s not a serial killer ?”
Mandy lets out an exaggerated sigh, dropping the dress on the bed before kneeling in front of me. “He’s not a serial killer,” she says, placing her hands on mine. “I had Adam run a background check on him as soon as we got back. He’s clean, Eva. I promise.” I want to believe her, but the uneasy feeling in my stomach doesn’t go away. It’s been years since I’ve seen Mandy this excited about anything, let alone a date, but all I can think about is how bad things could go.
“Mandy…” My voice is quiet as I try to find the right words. I squeeze her hands. “I can’t risk anything happening to you.”
She gives me a soft smile, the kind that’s meant to reassure me but doesn’t quite do the job. “If I thought something bad would happen, I wouldn’t go. You know I wouldn’t. I’d never do that to us, Eva.” Her voice is steady, calm, but it doesn’t ease the knot of worry in my chest. Mandy lets go of my hands and turns back to her pile of clothes on the floor. She picks up a thin red dress, holding it against herself. The colour pops against her skin, and I can’t stop the gasp that escapes my lips. Her eyes light up at my reaction. “This is the one!” she says, spinning in front of the mirror.
I push my fears to the side, not wanting to ruin this moment for her. For the next thirty minutes, we work together, turning her excitement into the perfect look for her big night.
By the time we’re done, she looks stunning. Her makeup is bold and smoky, her cheekbones perfectly highlighted. The deep red lipstick she chose complements the dress perfectly, and her brunette hair falls in soft, loose curls over her shoulders.
At exactly seven o’clock, the doorbell rings. Mandy glances at me, nervousness flickering across her face for the first time all evening. We walk to the door together, and before she opens it, I pull her into a hug. “If anything feels off, call me. I don’t care what time it is. I’ll be there,” I say, my voice firm.
She laughs softly, pulling back. “You worry too much.” She takes a deep breath, preparing herself before opening the door. A breeze floats through the gap, causing the heat from inside to escape as she welcomes the stranger.
“Wow, you look incredible,” a deep voice says from the hallway.
Mandy’s cheeks flush, and she glances back at me with a grin before stepping outside. I try to catch a glimpse of the guy, wanting to make a mental note for a ‘WANTED’ poster but just as I spot the edge of a black suit, Mandy shuts the door. I stand there for a moment, staring at the closed door, waiting for her to change her mind and come back inside. But her laughter echoes from outside, and I know she’s gone.
Letting out a sigh, I grab the bag of candles from yesterday’s shopping trip and head upstairs. “Guess it’s just me tonight,” I mutter, heading to my room for a bath. As I turn into my room, I stop dead in my tracks. The bag slips from my hands, hitting the floor with a crash as my candles scatter across the ground.
A figure leans casually against the balcony door, wearing the same glowing red mask I’ve been trying to forget.
The person doesn’t move, their arms crossed as if they’ve been waiting for me. “It’s you,” I whisper, the words barely audible over the pounding in my chest.