by Kate Genet
Zoe’s mouth was dry. ‘There’s something in this photo I need to see closer up.’ Finally she blinked. ‘I’ve my laptop in the car, do you mind if I go get it, load the photo on it?’
Jeanette shook her head, but there was a puzzled frown on her face. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘What is it? Is there something wrong?’
It was hard to know what to say. ‘Did you see Danny there at the park that day?’ Zoe asked, her voice like gravel in her throat.
Both women blinked at her.
‘My husband,’ Zoe said. ‘Did you see him at the park that day?’
‘What?’ Jeanette said. ‘No, I don’t think so. We were all busy with the party, but I would remember seeing him there with Rose, I think.’
‘He wouldn’t have been with Rose,’ Zoe said in little more than a whisper. ‘She was with me.’
It was Margaret’s turn to lean over the phone, trying to see. ‘I don’t understand, dear. Is he in the photograph?’
There was a band around Zoe’s chest, tightening with every passing second. She thought her ribs might crack from the pressure of it.
‘I need to see it bigger,’ she said. ‘It looks a little like him, that’s all.’
‘Why would he be at the kiddie’s park, love, if you had your little girl?’ The question was asked with blank innocence, but it made Zoe’s blood run cold.
‘Maybe he went for a walk,’ she said, the words falling limp from her tongue.
The phone was snatched out of her hand. Jeanette leaned over it, her hair falling across her face as she peered at the tiny figures then lifted a pale face to Zoe’s. ‘This was taken right before the kids started playing hide and seek. He’s standing by the trees. The fence is back there. And the river.’
There was a terrible, pregnant pause.
‘Don’t go jumping to conclusions, love,’ Margaret piped up. ‘The coroner said it was an accident. That Sahara slipped and fell into the river.’ Even as she was saying the comforting words, she was sitting down, her face white.
‘Do we need to call the police?’ Jeanette demanded, face still close to the screen until she looked up and stared at Zoe, pupils dark and accusing.
Zoe put up a hand. ‘Whoa,’ she said, even though her own heart was banging against the walls of her chest. She wanted to hold her hand against it to slow it. ‘You’re going too fast.’ A quick breath. ‘I don’t know why Danny was there – hell, I don’t even know if it is Danny in the photograph. If it is, there’s bound to be a perfectly reasonable explanation. The park is only a couple blocks from our house, after all. He might have just been out for a walk.’ It didn’t fit with what she knew of his day, but she wasn’t going to say that. Her mouth was too dry to get out those words anyway.
‘I'm sorry,’ she said. ‘I should never have come. I'm just upsetting you more.’ She got up and drew in a deep, calming breath.
Jeanette was shaking her head. ‘No,’ she said. ‘You’re not going. Except outside to get your laptop computer.’ She looked at Margaret. ‘Mum, you go with her, make sure she doesn’t drive off.’
‘What?’ Margaret’s reply was almost a squawk. ‘You’re overreacting, love.’
‘Sahara would never have climbed that fence. I didn’t believe it then and I still don’t. She knew better than to go anywhere near the river.’ Jeanette stared at her mother, then Zoe. She pointed to the half-hidden figure in the photograph. ‘This,’ she said, ‘is much more likely.
‘Some pervert got hold of my daughter.’
‘But there were no signs of foul play!’ Margaret said, hand at her throat. ‘The coroner said the bruises and things she had were from being in the river.’
‘I don’t care. Zoe, go and get your computer. I’ll send this to your phone, then you can upload it or whatever.’ Jeanette’s eyes held Zoe’s for a moment, then dropped back to the phone.
‘I'm sure there’s some reasonable explanation,’ Zoe said, but she was turning towards the door.
‘Yeah. And we’re going to find out what it is. My daughter is dead, and I would like the goddamn bloody truth!’ She pressed buttons on the phone. ‘Mum, go with her.’
Zoe was at the door.
‘There’s no need,’ she said. ‘I’ll be right back.’
15
On the path outside the house, Zoe stared around at the day. She didn’t recognise anything. Even the sky seemed strange, a bleak corrugated iron it had never quite been before. Cars drove by, but she didn’t recognise any of the makes and models. The same girl with her baby in the pushchair walked by, going back the way she’d come.
‘What’s going on?’ the girl asked, her look suspicious. ‘That’s Jeanette’s place. You haven’t been bothering her, have you?’
Zoe looked around, eyes wild. ‘What?’ she asked.
The young woman’s tone turned belligerent. ‘Jeanette. She’s just lost her kid. You social workers better not be giving her any bloody bother. Jeanette was a brilliant mum, you can take my word for it.’
The child in the pushchair stared up at Zoe, eyes wide. He had hair the same colour as Rose’s.
She groped for a reply. ‘How do you know I'm a social worker?’ she asked, realising even as she spoke it was a useless question. She had to get her computer, look at that photo. It wasn’t Danny. It couldn’t be Danny. No way it was Danny.
And if it was, that didn’t mean anything.
Not necessarily.
The girl was talking. ‘You’re wearing a flippin’ ID tag. And I’d know one of youse anywhere.’
‘You know Jeanette?’ Zoe asked stupidly. She really needed to get her computer.
‘Her and I are mates. Our kiddies play together.’ The girl blinked. ‘Or did. Sahara was terrific with the littlies. Patience of a saint, that kid. Loved playing with the babies. And now she’s dead.’ The young mother had hair as red as Rose’s too, and she was shaking her head at Zoe. ‘Don’t reckon it was an accident either, no matter what they say.’ She pushed out her chin. ‘That’s what youse should be looking into.’
‘What do you mean?’ Zoe asked, voice sharpening and some of the fog clearing. ‘Were you at the birthday party?’
‘Course I was. Said Jeanette and I are mates, didn’t I say?’ She sniffed and leaned closer. ‘I tried to explain to the police at the park that it couldn’t be no accident. Sahara was too bright for that. No way she would ever have climbed that fence and fallen in the bloody river.’ She hunched her shoulders up around her ears in a thick shrug. ‘Some pervert was hiding in the trees, I bet you anything you like.’ She curled her upper lip. ‘You just don’t have trees like that in a kiddie park, no matter how pretty they look. Too easy for someone to hide in them.’
The world was spinning too fast on its axis again. ‘What’s your name?’ Zoe asked.
‘Why? You going to harass me too?’
For a moment, Zoe was nonplussed, then she remembered the girl didn’t like social workers. Putting her name badge on when she got ready that morning had been automatic.
‘No,’ she said. ‘I just might want to talk to you again about what happened to Sahara.’
‘You mean you might take me seriously?’ The scepticism was clear on her face.
‘Did you see anyone lurking in the trees?’
The girl’s expression took on a shuttered look. ‘See, I knew you wouldn’t take me seriously.’
‘I'm just asking if you actually saw anyone.’
‘No I didn’t, but that doesn’t mean anything, does it? The pervert would have been hiding, right?’
Jeanette’s door opened, and Jeanette herself appeared. ‘I thought you’d taken off,’ she said to Zoe. ‘Have you got it?’
Zoe touched her fingers to her forehead. This day was not like any other. Jeanette’s eyes were hard marbles staring at her.
‘Well?’
‘I'm getting it now,’ she said.
A curt nod, then Jeanette’s gaze transferred to the young woman with the child in the pu
shchair. ‘Hey Tracey,’ she said.
‘You okay?’
‘I'm never going to be okay, Trace.’
‘Nah, of course not. I’ll come around this afternoon, make your tea for you, okay?’
Jeanette seemed to droop where she stood. ‘It’s okay. Mum’s here.’
‘Nah, I want to, okay? You need your mates at times like this.’
A tired nod from Jeanette then she looked at Zoe again. ‘Get it,’ she said. ‘I’ve sent the photo to your phone.’
‘What’s going on?’ Tracey asked.
‘I’ll tell you later, okay?’
The girl sent Zoe a suspicious look and pointed a finger at her. ‘You leave Jeanette alone and concentrate on finding the bastard who did this.’ With that parting shot, she gripped the pushchair and strode away up the road.
‘What was that about?’ Jeanette asked, stepping along behind Zoe as she walked to the car.
‘She doesn’t think Sahara’s death was an accident.’
There was silence for a moment. ‘It’s better if it is,’ Jeanette said. ‘You know?’ Her voice was suddenly so tired Zoe felt tears spring to her eyes. ‘I already can’t bear to think of her last minutes.’
They reached the car, but Zoe hesitated over opening the door. ‘And I'm not helping at all, I'm sorry. This isn’t about you, and I really doubt it’s anything to do with Sahara either.’ She paused then said words that were so unfamiliar to her mouth they almost even tasted different. ‘Danny and I are having a few problems at the moment.’ She tipped up her head and looked at the glowering sky, feeling something shift and move in the pit of her stomach that gave her a headache. ‘Maybe he went there to meet someone.’
‘Maybe,’ Jeanette said. ‘But if that’s him in the photo, then what’s he doing right where Sahara would have gone into the trees to hide?’
Zoe didn’t know. Unlocking the car, she pulled open the door and reached for the computer bag tucked in the foot well.
There was no going back now. She’d upload the photograph, then deal with whatever came next.
‘Here,’ she said to Jeanette. ‘Take this, okay? I’ll be right in, I just have to make a phone call first.’
Jeanette’s look was cautious, but she took the computer without a word and went back to the flat, a slight figure hunched over a surprisingly strong backbone. Zoe gazed after her for a moment, then took her phone out of her pocket.
The call went through to voicemail and she stared at the screen, waited for the beep.
‘Danny?’ she said and cleared her throat and holding the phone to her ear. ‘I don’t know what to say. I want everything to be okay. Is Rose all right? I guess we need to talk. I’ll call you in a little while, okay? Tell Rose I love her.’
She hit end then looked at the phone in her hand. Danny hadn’t answered. Where was he? Closing her eyes, she concentrated on making deep, slow breaths.
Rose. Was Rose all right?
But she was overreacting. It had been a bad morning.
And it might just be about to get worse.
Jeanette had taken the laptop from the bag and set it up on the coffee table, turned it on.
‘It needs a password,’ she said.
Zoe made no reply, just sat down, turned the computer towards herself and typed in the password. Rose’s name mixed in with her date of birth. Zoe knew she needed something more secure as a password than that, had in fact sat through a workshop on computer security for government departments and nodded along with everything said, but still she hadn’t changed what she used. It was a small way of staying connected to the daughter she couldn’t be with during the day.
The desktop appeared on the screen, and Zoe took out her phone again while it loaded. There was no reply from Danny, no text message saying where he and Rose were, that everything was okay, that he hadn’t meant anything he’d said that morning.
So she found the photo from Jeanette and emailed it to herself, then went to the computer and waited for it to arrive.
‘I think we need another cup of tea,’ Margaret said, getting up and going into the kitchen where she stood still in the middle of the floor, chewing on a nail in a stance Zoe was quite sure she hadn’t done since childhood.
She wanted to reassure the older woman, but she’d need some reassurance for herself first.
The email materialised in her inbox and Zoe clicked on it, opened the attached photo and stared at it full-sized on her screen.
16
It was Jeanette who spoke first.
‘I'm calling the police,’ she said.
Margaret gave a strangled cry and came back from the kitchen, still gnawing on a knuckle, and Jeanette turned the screen, so her mother could see the photograph.
Margaret stared at it a moment, then looked over at Zoe. ‘Is it...?’
There was no air in Zoe’s lungs. She pressed a hand flat against her ribs, but it didn’t help. Leaning forward, she groped for a breath.
‘I'm going to,’ Jeanette said. ‘I'm going to call the police.’
Zoe managed a hand on the young woman’s arm. ‘I’ll do it,’ she said.
Jeanette stared at her then shook her head. ‘It’s your husband. How do I know you’ll call? You might want to protect him.’
‘We’re all jumping to conclusions,’ Margaret said, but she sounded breathless too.
Zoe sank back into the sofa, the knobby texture of the cushion abrasive against the skin of her palms. Palms that were suddenly clammy.
‘I'm not jumping to any conclusions, Mum,’ Jeanette said and pointed at the picture up on the screen. ‘There’s all the bloody evidence we need. He’s standing right fucking there.’
‘Watch your language.’ Margaret’s reprimand sounded automatic, and half-hearted. The older woman’s legs gave out and she sat abruptly down.
‘You know he’s always at the park,’ Jeanette said, and Zoe guessed she was talking to her. ‘He’s always there, with his cameras. It’s creepy. What sort of man hangs out at the kiddie’s park every day, taking photos of the girls and boys?’ She blinked. ‘Especially the girls, come to think of it.’
What sort of man went to the mall to buy another princess dress for his daughter? Of all the shops there, a grown man chose to search through the dress-ups in the toy shop? Zoe thought she was going to faint.
‘Rose,’ she said.
Jeanette had turned the computer screen back to face herself and was peering closely at it, bright red spots flaming high on her cheeks. ‘I’d be getting Rose right away from him, if I were you,’ she said, her voice flat and hard. ‘It’s definitely him. I can feel the truth of it in my bones.’
‘There could be some innocent explanation…’ Margaret said.
‘Oh bollocks, Mum,’ Jeanette spat out. ‘Look at the bastard. He’s standing right there half in and half out of the trees, right where Sahara would have gone to hide. Hell, he could have called her over for all we know – she wouldn’t have considered him a stranger.’ Her voice slowed, quietened. ‘She would have thought he had Rose with him.’
It was true. Everything Jeanette said was true. Zoe couldn’t take her eyes from the photograph. It was a shot of the kids playing, and at the side of the frame were the trees, behind which, Zoe knew, was the fence, and behind that, the river.
And it was Danny. Even at a distance and out of focus, she recognised him. Same as Jeanette did. Who Danny had said he didn’t even know. Had never met.
Which was now patently ridiculous.
She found some air at last and gulped it in, breathing hard and fast in great gasps.
‘You okay?’ Jeanette said. ‘I mean, unless you had some idea, this has gotta be a huge shock.’
‘I didn’t know,’ Zoe said between whooping breaths. ‘I didn’t know.’
Lurching forward, she snapped the lid of the computer shut.
‘Hey! What the hell?’ Jeanette glared at her. ‘That’s evidence.’
Zoe shook her head. ‘I have to go,’
she said. ‘I have to go get Rose.’
‘But what about the police? We have to tell them!’ Jeanette made a grab for Zoe’s computer.
‘I’ll call my friend.’ Zoe held the laptop out of reach. ‘You have a copy of the photo, remember? It’s safely on your phone.’ She stood up, needing to move now, needing to do something, needing to…needing to call Claire, Moana, get Rose. Had to get Rose.
‘Well, what’s her name?’ Jeanette demanded.
‘Whose?’
‘Your goddamned police friend, of course.’
Zoe got the computer into the bag, held it tight against her chest. ‘Of course. It’s Moana Hodge. She’s with the Child Protection Unit.’ She looked blankly around the room. ‘I have her card somewhere…’
‘Shit,’ Jeanette said. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll find out on my own.’ She stood up, looked suddenly awkward. ‘Listen, just go get Rose, okay? Don’t let anything happen to her; she’s a sweet kid.’
Zoe nodded. ‘I’ll call Moana too, and get back to you as soon as I’ve spoken to her, okay?’
A nod from both daughter and mother this time.
‘Promise?’ Jeanette asked.
‘I promise,’ Zoe said. ‘Believe me, I will get to the bottom of this.’
‘Even if your husband’s a pervert?’
‘Especially then.’
With that, Zoe stumbled from the tiny flat and the woman whose daughter had just died two days ago. Presumed drowned.
Possibly murdered.
This time, Zoe didn’t bother noticing that the day was off-kilter. She knew it was. She knew everything in her life was turned upside down, would never be the same again.
She also knew she wasn’t wrong. There was the picture of Sahara in her mind again. Not the one from Jeanette’s phone this time. The one in the frame. The one where Sahara looked a lot like a little girl in a picture on Danny’s office wall.
His sister.
There was a sound inside Zoe’s head, but she didn’t know whether it was the click of dominoes falling, or things clicking into place.