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  ONLINE

  A PSYCHOLOGICAL THRILLER

  BY

  COLLETTE HEATHER

  COPYRIGHT COLLETTE HEATHER 2019

  ONLINE

  A PSYCHOLOGICAL THRILLER

  BY

  COLLETTE HEATHER

  COPYRIGHT COLLETTE HEATHER 2019

  COVER IMAGE:

  DROP DEAD DESIGNS

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This book may not be reproduced or used in any way without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in book reviews. The characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.

  She met him online ONLINE… It might be the death of her.

  When Londoner Mia Frost moves to Denmark to be with Lee Sheldon, her life will take a nightmarish turn.

  Nobody in her new social circle is as they first appear. Everybody is hiding something.

  And somebody is out to destroy Mia. Her stalker will put strain on her relationship with a man that she barely knew to begin with. But Mia isn’t going anywhere. She loves Lee to the point of obsession, even if he is starting to show sides of his personality that shock her…

  Online is a gripping psychological thriller full of twists. It begs the question, how well do we ever really know anybody?

  For Nancy.

  ONE

  “I love you so much.”

  “I love you too,” I replied, holding him tight, breathing in his heady scent of sawdust and spicy aftershave, the sheer Lee-ness of him.

  “I can’t believe you’re actually here,” he whispered against my lips.

  “Me neither.”

  I really couldn’t. Six months. Six months of meticulous planning and a total life overhaul had brought me to this point. And now here we were. Together.

  The lyrics of some eighties pop song burst tunelessly into my head. We’ll be together, and nobody will ever, try to separate us, or say to us we’ve got to stop…

  Lee gripped me by my shoulders and held me at arms’ length to study my face. “You’re crying.”

  “I’m happy.”

  “Me too.”

  We were kissing again in Billund’s airport foyer, oblivious to the people scurrying around us. I melted against the hard lines of his body, desperate to feel his naked skin on mine.

  “How long ‘til home?” I asked between kisses.

  “Three quarters of an hour. So let’s go before I throw you down right here and have my wicked way with you.”

  “Promises, promises,” I murmured coyly, kissing him hard.

  He broke off the kiss and nuzzled into my neck, groaning softly. “I’m warning you. Come on.”

  Grabbing the handle of my little wheeled suitcase, he pulled me against him and led me towards the exit.

  Out in the sprawling carpark, he led me to his car – a green estate. It struck me as practical, masculine and unpretentious, just like him.

  “My lady,” he said, opening the passenger door with a mock bow. This momentarily confused me, seeing as the door was on the wrong side of the car, as the Danes drove on the opposite side of the road to the Brits.

  I got in, feeling dreamlike and strange, still not believing that I was actually here. That I was actually doing this.

  *

  Discretely, I studied his profile as he drove, taking in the strong set of his jaw, the straight nose, the shaggy dark hair. To me, he was beautiful. I briefly pondered the enormity of what I was doing. I had given up everything for this man. I checked myself for misgivings. None so far.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, squeezing my knee.

  “Just fine. You?”

  “I’m the happiest man alive. I’ve dreamed about picking you up from the airport since that first second I saw your photo.”

  Yes, I should’ve been scared at that statement, but it filled me with happiness. We had met on the internet, or more specifically, a dating site masquerading as a friendship forum on a social networking site. Just two bored adults, passing the time of day by chatting to strangers. It had been love at first click. Despite our respective friends’ and families’ dire warnings we had instinctively known we were right for each other. To the day I die I’ll remember the feeling I had the first time I saw his face. Utter calm. Total certainty. There he was. Him. It could only be him from that moment on.

  “What do you think of Denmark so far?” he asked, his hand roaming further up my jean-clad thigh.

  I studied the passing scenery, searching for something profound, or at least something vaguely interesting to say, when in truth all I could think about was how good his hand felt resting on my thigh.

  “It’s flat. Sort of how I pictured it. I love the yellow rape fields. Very Scandinavian. Very Wallander.”

  Lee laughed. “Wallander’s Swedish.”

  The late evening June sunshine bathed the crop fields in brilliant, yellow light. Under normal circumstances, my artist’s eye would’ve seen endless possibilities for vibrant, juicy, sunlit paintings. But right now I was much more interested in the way Lee looked as he squinted into the sun – the way the light made his eyes glow orange instead of their usual mid-brown.

  “I love you, Lee Sheldon.”

  “I love you too, Mia Frost.”

  *

  A few hours later, I lay naked, exhausted and happy in his arms, the only place I had dreamed of for so long. The side of my face felt wet in his armpit. I curled his chest hair into little tufts, never wanting this moment to end.

  “I love you so much,” he said against my forehead.

  I smiled into his bare chest. I even loved his accent. He had moved to Denmark sixteen years ago, but still retained a dash of his native Northern England which mingled pleasingly with the flat, Danish vowels. His voice was a rich and deep monotone rumble that made my stomach flick flack every time he spoke.

  “Lee?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “What happens next?”

  “Next? Next, I’m going to pour you a glass of red, then I’m going to introduce you to runstykker bread and Danish cheese and then I’m going to ravish your beautiful body again.”

  I playfully swatted his arm.

  “Hey! What was that for?”

  “I’m serious Lee. What about your daughter?”

  And your ex, and your stalker-esque best friend, I silently added.

  He pulled himself up onto his elbow so that he could look me in the eye. “You mustn’t worry about Bigitte, yet. I don’t have her until Friday, we have four whole days yet. Four days of luurve making.”

  He wiggled his eyebrows in a jokey, lewd manner, but I wasn’t about to be pacified so easily.

  “Doesn’t she want to meet me before that? Surely it’s only right? A woman she’s never met is going to become her stepmother.”

  “You worry too much. I told you, she’s with my ex for the next few days as she normally would be. I told her you need time to adjust, that we need a few days alone. She understands.”

  “She’s sixteen. I very much doubt that she does.”

  Lee whipped off the duvet which I had clasped to my naked body. He pinned me to the bed by my upper arms and began kissing my neck. I writhed beneath him, half-heartedly putting up a fight.

  “Of course she understands. She has her father’s brains.”

  “Really? You should’ve kept them.”

  “Smart arse. Just shut up and kiss me.”

  I snorted derisively but he silenced me with his mouth.

  TWO

  I woke the following morning from a dreamless sleep, the previous day having been spent in a haze of sex. For a moment, I thought I was back in my London flat, but the sound of Lee whistling as he ascended the stairs with the coffee he had made us brought me back to blissful rea
lity.

  I kicked off the duvet and stretched luxuriously, feeling oh-so-decadent and daring in my nudity, bathing as I was in the sunlight that seeped through the slatted blinds, like a sleepy cat.

  “Wow,” Lee said, appearing in the doorway. “That has to be the most beautiful sight I have ever seen of a morning,”

  He came over and leaned down to kiss me.

  “Thanks,” I said, accepting the offered cup of coffee and wrapping the duvet around myself.

  How silly to be self-conscious, I thought, considering what we had been doing for most of the night.

  Lee picked up his jeans that had landed on the radiator in the heat of passion.

  “Phone,” he said, rummaging through the pockets. “I ‘spose I should switch it on and charge it up.”

  I eyed the thing apprehensively. “Is that really necessary?”

  “No. But we can’t hide from the world forever.”

  “If it’s important then they’ll call your landline. There’s no need to charge it.”

  “What’s the matter, Mia?”

  Hanne was the matter. His best friend. They had met when they had been next-door neighbours a few years back, and their friendship had taken off from there.

  “I’m just, oh, I don’t know. I guess I’m just not ready for the full texting onslaught of your girlfriend.”

  I bit my lip. That had come out bitchier than I had intended. Lee, however, didn’t rise to my surly, petulant tone.

  “I have told you a thousand times, my darling, gorgeous woman, that Hanne is just a friend. There is absolutely nothing in it. Nothing at all. She helped me through the rough times with my ex. She’s always been a shoulder to cry on. She’s a mate, that’s all.”

  I sighed deeply. Either he had been having an affair with her, or he was incredibly dense. I figured it was the latter. I mean, let’s face it, most men weren’t exactly tuned in to the subtle nuances of coded female behaviour. I didn’t think Lee would recognise that the obsessive tart was in love with him if she stripped naked before him and had ‘I love Lee’ tattooed all over her naked body. Even then he’d probably still deny it and say she was only joking.

  As my friend Sarah had said to me, it would all come out in the wash. I just didn’t know if I could wait that long.

  Sure enough, the phone lit up and spewed out a stream of texts. I counted fourteen sets of vibrations. At least Lee had the good grace to look sheepish.

  “Well?” I asked as he skimmed through them.

  “She just wants to know how it’s going.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “She’s excited for us, Mia. She’s dying to meet you.”

  I swallowed down a whole string of bitchy retorts. God, it was hard keeping myself in check. I figured I should really wait a few days before I subjected him to the green-eyed girlfriend act.

  “It just strikes me as all the wrong way round,” I said as tactfully as possible. “It’s the ex-wife I should be terrified of meeting, not your best friend.”

  “Don’t be silly, Mia. It will be great for you to have a readymade friend in Denmark. She’ll be able to show you the sights when I’m at work. I know how close you are to your girlfriends in England and Hanne will be a good substitute until you make friends of your own.”

  “Are you in love with her?” I blurted out. “Or have you been? Are you sure you’ve never had sex with her?”

  He took both my hands in his and gazed lovingly into my eyes. “Yes, I love her. I love her like a sister.”

  *

  After drinking his coffee, and I had used the bathroom, Lee went for a shower and I took the opportunity to throw on some underwear. I listened to the hiss of the water and Lee humming tunelessly and smiled to myself. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, barely recognising the woman that stared back at me. My eyes gleamed and my usually pale skin was flushed. I looked happy. I ran a comb through my unruly mop of shoulder-length, dark-blonde curls and thought about putting on makeup. I decided I didn’t need much. I certainly didn’t need blusher on my already flushed cheeks and my skin was smooth and clear. A dab of mascara opened up my already large, pale blue eyes. I never really wore lipstick as I considered my mouth too big, but I used a smear of lipbalm to calm my lips that were even puffier right then thanks to all that kissing.

  I still couldn’t believe that I was really here. Picking up the empty coffee mugs, I wandered down the stairs in my bra and knickers and entered the downstairs open-plan living space.

  It was a gorgeous-looking house, pretty much in the middle of nowhere in a place called Blaesbjerre Station. Translated it meant Windy Station. Apparently, many years ago, this place had been the local shop. Once upon a time, there had also been a train station here too, hence the name. Now there was no community to speak off, just a few houses dotted around here and there, and certainly no shops.

  The house itself was all beechwood floor and whitewashed walls. The wooden floor omitted a pine fresh scent and I closed my eyes, deeply inhaling through my nostrils. It smelt fresh and woody, just like Lee. It was much bigger downstairs as it had once been the shop floor. Upstairs used to be the stockroom and was much smaller, seeing as it was a converted attic. I wandered over to the row of five, square windows that took up most of the front wall that overlooked the street. The blinds were open as traffic and passers-by here were minimal.

  There was nothing but rape fields across the road as far as the eye could see. The only thing that broke up the view was a parked car on the other side of the road. A red mini. Then it pulled away.

  I thought no more of it and went over to the kitchen area to switch on the kettle.

  THREE

  Back upstairs, Lee was still in the shower. Placing the two, steaming-hot cups of coffee on my bedside table, I flopped onto the bed on my back and palmed my eyes.

  I had a headache. I still couldn’t believe that I was here – I wondered if I would ever get used to it. Groaning to myself, I twisted my head to the side and peered through my fingers at his phone which was perched on the windowsill.

  Before I knew what I was doing, I was up and on my feet, snatching up his phone. His lock screen was one of those touchscreen patterns. As a completely blind guess, I trace an ‘L’ for ‘Lee’ in the nine dots, but it didn’t work. Next, I tried the first letter of his daughter’s name, ‘Biggita’. ‘B’ proved to be an awkward letter to write in the dots, with endless possibilities as to how one might possibly go about it. Needless to say, it didn’t work, and I put the phone back down where I had found it on the windowsill, frowning to myself.

  What the hell was I even doing, anyway? I had been here less than twenty-four hours, and I was already trying to spy on him.

  I seriously have some trust issues, I told myself with a grim smile that felt more like a grimace. But, I reasoned, that was hardly my fault. My dad had abandoned me and my mum when I had been seven-years-old, and my ex-boyfriend had turned out to be an alcoholic who hadn’t exactly taken kindly to me dumping him…

  I shook my head, not wanting to think about all that crap. I was here for a fresh start, to draw a clean line under the recent past.

  To get away from the ghost of my recently passed away, and dearly beloved, mother.

  I was here to be with the love of my life, and to forget.

  I should check my own messages, never mind his, I thought, my attempt at snooping reminding me of this. I slid my rump off the wide edge of the windowsill, going over to my bedside table where my phone lay next to the two coffee cups.

  Sipping my coffee, I switched on my phone, going back over to the windowsill and perching my rump there once more. I hadn’t checked messages since last night. I had a message from my best friend, Sarah, but beyond that, nothing of interest. I opened her message and proceeded to read:

  Hey, why didn’t you call me as soon as you landed? Did your Internet Lurver chop you up into little bits, or are you still alive? Please let me know how you’re getting on.

  I punched ou
t my reply:

  All is fine here in the Land of Danish, I’ll give you a call soon xx Hope you’re okay, and I’m fine, don’t worry. Lee’s lovely, I’m happy. Speak soon x

  I pressed send and sighed deeply, gently leaning backwards against the windowpane. The glass felt cool and good against the bare skin of my back.

  I don’t know why, but I was feeling jittery. Every time I logged onto any of my social media accounts or email, I expected to see a message from my ex, Gary; Gary Brown, the charming guy that had turned out to a psychotic alcoholic. The guy who had turned up in my flat after I had dumped him and threatened to kill me, should I not get back with him.

  Yeah. That Gary.

  Since our altercation that night four months ago – two months before I had met Lee on Facebook, he hadn’t contacted me again, apart from to apologise. And to beg me not to call the police. I hadn’t, being the good-natured soul that I mainly am. Besides, I had too much else to deal with then, like my mother dying of cancer.

  I didn’t know why I was expecting Gary to emerge from the woodwork, again. Probably because I was so happy. Bad things always happened when people were happy.

  I let out another shaky sigh, upset to discover that I was trembling. No. I wasn’t going to have any panic attacks here. Not when I was with Lee. Not when I was so happy.

  I swivelled around on the windowsill so that the soles of my bare feet were also flat on the ledge, and I rested my chin on my knees.

  I so wanted to make this work. I looked around the bedroom, trying to draw comfort from my new and deeply unfamiliar surroundings. Different was good. Change was good. There were too many bad memories back home.

  This room, like the rest of the house, was big and minimal. It was so different from my flat back in London. My old place – a one-bedroomed flat on the top floor of a townhouse in Brixton – was the polar-opposite of sleek, Scandinavian design. It was cramped and cluttered, so unlike this whitewashed, near-deserted room, with its three, big, square windows. I was sitting on the sill of the side window. The other two windows were on the adjacent wall, overlooking the main road – if one could ever call it main – and the rape field beyond.