Ana’s eyes stay on River. She’s never said it out loud like that to anyone. Never used those words.
Lynch stands back up, facing her.
‘I’m sorry.’
She tightens her grip on the chair, her legs threatening to collapse under her.
‘Maybe you should sit.’
Lynch pulls a seat out for her but Ana remains standing.
‘I’m guessing that you know why I’ve come.’
Ana half listens, her attention having been drawn back to the baby monitor. Did she hear something? It was soft. Barely there.
Tapping.
She glances back at Lynch but he appears to have heard nothing. It’s just her imagination playing tricks on her. Giving her what she wants to hear.
‘I could lose my job for this and I know you don’t want me here but I couldn’t just do nothing.’
What is he saying?
‘I’ll be coming back again first thing tomorrow so if there’s anything you don’t want me to find then you need to take care of it today. There’ll still be an investigation and you’ll probably lose your job but nothing can be proved without evidence.’
The pills, he’s talking about the pills.
‘Do you understand what I’m saying?’
Ana nods and sinks down onto the chair.
‘Is that blood in your hair?’
She puts a hand to her head, wincing as her fingers come down on the sore spot.
‘I slipped … in the shower.’
It’s close to the truth but Lynch doesn’t seem convinced.
He hesitates and then pulls a chair out for himself.
Ana is surprised when River pads over to join them, sitting close to Lynch, leaning his head on his knee for more pats. Lynch automatically runs his hand over the dog’s head while he keeps his focus on Ana.
‘Your boss – Lenny – he told me he thought you were in trouble … Ana, is someone hurting you?’
She says nothing. Let him come to his own conclusions.
‘I’m sorry but I have to ask … The boyfriend …?’
‘He’s gone.’
Ana doesn’t have to pretend anything now. Her pain is real and she lets him see it.
He looks at her with kind eyes, eyes that know pain.
She doesn’t want his pity. Or his kindness.
‘Why are you here, Officer Lynch?’
Lynch gazes silently back at her. There’s no need for him to say anything.
She sees him now. Ray. Her Ray.
If he’s willing to go this far to help her, how much further might he go, she wonders?
Not that far.
‘Ana, are you okay?’
Ana shakes her head. She can admit it now. No, she’s not okay.
‘Why did you come back? Why now?’
They both know she doesn’t mean to her house.
‘Honestly? Property prices, we couldn’t afford to buy anything decent on the mainland.’
We?
Lynch hesitates.
‘I came with my wife … and my son. He’s twelve.’
The same age you were.
‘It’s a great place to raise kids.’
‘Is it?’
Lynch shifts awkwardly in his chair.
‘I’m sorry, Rabbit …’
‘Don’t call me that,’ she snaps.
Only she calls me that.
‘I’m sorry, I should have handled things better, I should have at least talked to you before I left the island. I know that now but back then …’ He struggles with finding the right words. For once Ana isn’t struggling.
‘Nobody talked to me. Not even my grandmother. I was all alone … You didn’t even come to her funeral. Did you know I had to learn you were gone through a stranger? Worse than that, I had to ask. And you knew, you knew how uncomfortable I was with people. You knew …’
‘I didn’t know where to start, Ana. I still don’t. With everything that happened … I was crazy about your mother and I cared so much for you but I was young and completely out of my depth.’
‘So was I.’
Lynch nods. He gets it, she can see that much. But he doesn’t get her. Has no idea who she is. As she gazes back at him she realises what’s been troubling her about him. She thought he would have been more damaged, more like her, but he’s not.
Life went on for him.
‘Ana, I want to talk more, I do, but there’s a solid police presence out this way with the river search today … It’s best I’m not seen here.’
He notices Ana’s confused look.
‘You haven’t heard? Mike Marsden was arrested yesterday. They’ve got divers out in the water now.’
‘They’re looking for him? Her boyfriend? They think he’s dead?’
Lynch nods.
Ana’s eyes find the monitor.
The green light. The silence.
All this time he was telling her it had to be someone else but she wasn’t listening. Not to him, not even when she saw the evidence of it with her own eyes.
‘Ana?’
‘I saw him. Her husband. At Rocky’s. I even spoke to him …’
His hands around the neck of his mannequin wife. Her smashed body lying on the road. Her frozen gaze.
‘Yeah, we knew he was hanging around there. It’s not uncommon apparently.’ He moves to the sink and grabs the glass, filling it with water. Placing it on the table in front of Ana. ‘A part of him probably wanted to be caught.’
Ana stares down at the glass, focusing on the surface of the water, waiting for it to settle.
She looks across at Lynch, the anguish of what she’s done clear in her eyes even though she can’t say the words. All this time Luke was telling her the truth.
‘I didn’t know.’
‘Why would you?’
‘That’s not what I meant –’
At that moment she hears it again. Three tiny taps. The kind of sound you would only notice if you knew it was there. Relief floods through her body but is instantly overridden by a wave of shame as the reality of what she’s done to him hits her.
He wants her to know he’s there, she knows that much. Despite what he must have heard he wants her to stay silent. But why? Is he protecting her?
Ana’s chair grates loudly on the floor as she pushes it back.
‘I’m sorry, you’re right, I should let you go.’
Lynch gives River one last pat and stands with her.
‘One last thing. The pills. Don’t flush them down the toilet. Get them out of the house.’
‘I get it.’
Ana tries not to be obvious as she herds him back down the hallway. Lynch opens the door and she follows him out, shadowing him to his car. She knows she should just let him go but she has to ask.
‘Are they sure? That it was her husband? I heard the evidence against the boyfriend was pretty strong.’
‘What’s your interest in this?’
‘Isn’t everyone interested? It’s like watching a real-life crime show in your own backyard.’
Lynch shrugs.
‘It was all circumstantial. He was with her the night she died so the DNA only confirmed what we already knew. Presumably they’ll be interviewing the husband today, while they search for the murder weapon. If he’s smart he’ll have gotten rid of it …’
Murder weapon?
‘I thought she was strangled?’
‘She was.’
Lynch hesitates, clearly wondering how much he should tell her. How much she can hear.
‘They found fine strands of coloured silk clutched in one of her hands, and caught in the skin of her neck.’
Ana’s blood runs cold. The scarf. Her mind flashes to the drawer where she shut it away. Then to the van. To the day she saw them together, the scarf in Rebecca’s hand.
Lynch has opened the door of his car but pauses before he gets in, unaware of Ana’s distraction. ‘Do you think, maybe after tomorrow, I could come back and we could talk some more?
Would that be okay with you?’
Would it?
Ana briefly meets Lynch’s gaze as she nods. She leaves him there, and walks as slowly as she can back to the house.
She shuts the door behind her and makes her way back down the hallway, stopping when she reaches the doorway into the kitchen.
She waits there, thinking Luke might say something now but he doesn’t.
He’s waiting for her.
He remembered scrambling backwards. Away from her.
Away from what he had done.
He remembered falling hard out of the van.
The loose gravel digging into his face, his hands. The rain on his back.
He remembered the urge to run, to disappear into the darkness of the surrounding forest.
It was so quiet. No cars. Not even in the distance. Rocky’s was in darkness and the service station on the other side of the intersection long closed.
He remembered thinking that it felt like the end of the world.
She had said that he was her sickness but she was wrong about that.
In the end, she was his.
FORTY-TWO
Luke peers up from the bottom of the stairs. He’s torn the bedding and tied a makeshift bandage around his wrist. His ankle is free of the chain but it doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere in a hurry, despite what he heard through the monitor. He looks exhausted, like he’s had his own long night of the soul. Ana can read in his face that he knows she’s there, watching him from behind the door, but he’s still not talking.
Who is it she’s looking at now, she wonders, a man who committed a crime of passion or a cold-blooded killer? Whoever he is, he takes three very deliberate steps back until he’s standing on the inside of her chalk line. That she can read without him having to say a word.
He wants her to open the door.
Strangely, for the first time Ana doesn’t feel any fear. All this time he’s been her captive she’s never felt like she had the power. Not really. Now, even though he’s no longer chained, she feels the scales have balanced. She knows the truth.
Is that how it is when a relationship ends, she wonders? When one person is leaving the other behind. Whatever it was between them – that pull she felt towards him – as consuming as it was, she’s free of it now. All she feels is a vague sadness and a growing need for this to finally be over. She wants him gone so she can clean up before Lynch comes back tomorrow.
Be careful, this new-found confidence of yours could get you killed.
Ana slides back the bolt and pushes the door open.
‘The cop? He’s gone?’
Ana nods.
‘How much did you hear?’
‘The knocking on the door woke me.’
She glances past him to the monitor now sitting on the concrete by the bed.
His eyes follow hers to the mattress. From the amount of blood on the sheets he bled a lot during the night but it appears to be under control now.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you bleeding down there all night … My head … I passed out.’
‘I know. I saw you through the door … I’m sorry I scared you. And River too.’
The silence stretches out between them.
‘I heard what he said. About him … her husband.’
He thinks he’s gotten away with it.
‘I can take you now. To the hospital.’
She’s calling his bluff, keen to see how he reacts.
‘Or you can take my car. I’ll leave the keys in the ignition.’
She can feel him studying her, trying to read her face.
‘I’ll get your clothes, and your other things too. I ditched the mobile phone but I have your wallet and your keys.’
She retreats back into the garage.
‘Ana, wait.’
She steps back into the doorway.
‘You’re not afraid anymore that I’ll know where you live?’
Careful.
‘I did this to you. I’m willing to accept the consequences. You do what you feel you have to.’ She can’t think about anyone else right now. Not Rebecca or her innocent husband. Or their kids. She’ll work out what to do about them later, when he’s gone.
Luke’s eyes continue to appraise her. She can see he’s having trouble working her out now. She can also see that ending this is going to be more of a challenge than she thought.
‘I don’t feel so good. I lost a lot of blood. I think maybe I need to eat something first.’
Ana can’t hide her surprise. She didn’t anticipate that. That he’d want to stay down there.
‘I don’t understand. You heard what he said. You didn’t kill her.’
‘I heard. I also heard that the only reason anyone thinks I’m innocent is because they think I’m dead. What do you think will happen when I suddenly turn up alive? I was with her that night. My DNA is all over her. You might trust the cops to get it right but I’m not willing to take that chance … Maybe it’s better I stay dead.’
‘The cop … He’s coming back tomorrow.’
‘Then there’s no need to rush into anything is there? I know I have to leave here. I’m just not ready to face it yet … I can’t.’
There he is again. The lost man. She wasn’t expecting that either. His vulnerability. She has to remind herself that it could still be an act.
‘Haven’t you ever wanted to stop everything? Just make the world and everything in it disappear for a while?’
He’s speaking her language now. He’s done that before today, like he can see right into her core.
‘I have eggs,’ she says, reluctantly. ‘And I still have juice.’ She feels her face reddening as the word leaves her mouth. ‘They always give you juice when you give blood.’
‘Do you have any booze in the house?’
Ana’s mind flashes to the bottle of bourbon she found under the sink. The last of her mother’s supply.
‘I don’t know. Maybe …’
‘Can you check?’
Ana still doesn’t move.
‘You can lock me in again if it’ll make you more comfortable … I trust you.’
Ana looks back at him, incredulous.
‘I almost killed you.’
‘I know.’
*
Ana returns Luke’s clothes to him first, leaving them on the landing, along with his wallet and keys and her first-aid kit. After locking him in she gets busy, frying eggs and making toast. The smell of it is overwhelming, but she resists the urge to eat. Hunger is good. It will keep her alert.
River watches from his bed as Ana sets everything up on the tray and then sits down at the table, her ear trained on the monitor. She can hear him still moving around and doesn’t want to go back in there until she’s sure he’s dressed.
Ana softens as she glances over at River. He’s panting heavily, watching her.
‘Hey, boy, how are you feeling?’
River pulls himself up out of his bed and limps over to her side, resting his head heavily on her thigh. He’s been more sooky than usual today, first with Lynch and now with her. She strokes his head, gazing down into his soft brown eyes. It used to be all she ever needed to feel okay about being in the world. River’s eyes gazing back at her.
Ana has been aware that since Luke came into their life she’s avoided really looking at River. In that way she’s been able to avoid feeling the guilt of depriving him of so much of her time. The guilt of wanting more than the simple life she has shared with him.
River breaks contact first, shifting his focus to just beyond her. It’s almost like he’s looking at someone over her shoulder.
‘You’re a good boy. Just a little bit longer now.’
He licks her hand before settling down at her feet, one paw resting on her shoe. He’s never been a cuddly dog, even on the lounge or the bed he’s always liked his own space, but she’s always loved the small ways he stays connected to her. Whether she deserves it or not has never mattered. Not with
him.
FORTY-THREE
When Ana next checks through the peephole Luke is sitting on the mattress with the first-aid kit open beside him. He has his jeans on but is still bare-chested, trying to bandage his arm.
He glances up as she opens the door and then reaches for his T-shirt, quickly pulling it on, hurting his arm in the process.
Ana apologises and looks away, unsure if his urge to cover up was spontaneous or if he’s making a point.
‘It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before,’ he says, as he returns his focus to the bandage.
Despite everything, Ana still flushes red. She awkwardly shifts the tray in her hands. She intends to just leave it on the top step like she did his clothes and other things but he stops her before she can get there.
‘Could you help me with this?’
He’s looking up at her, noting her hesitation.
‘You’re a nurse, aren’t you?’
‘I work in a pharmacy. Or I did.’
‘Good enough for me.’
Ana tries to keep her face neutral as she re-adjusts her load and descends. She pauses at the bottom of the stairs, contemplating the space between them. There’s nothing stopping him crossing it anymore but he’s not even looking in her direction.
She pushes on, setting the tray down at the end of the mattress.
He looks at her now but only long enough to hand her the bandage. He’s much more interested in the bourbon. He leaves her stranded while he reaches for the bottle, glancing up at her in surprise when he sees it’s his brand.
Luke makes no comment as he carefully studies the cap and listens for the crack on opening. He’s still worried about her drugging him.
He ignores the glass, taking a long slug straight from the bottle before holding out his arm. It’s a clean slice up the inside of his forearm, right about where you’d cut if you wanted to slit your wrists. It’s nasty and it’s also bleeding again from the alcohol wipes he used to clean it.
‘It needs stitches. You should be going to the hospital.’
‘Not gonna happen. How are you with a needle and thread?’
Ana kneels down on the concrete keeping the first-aid kit between them. She puts the bandage aside and searches through the kit until she finds the suture tape.
She senses his amusement as she meticulously cleans her hands with liquid sanitiser and alcohol wipes before neatly laying everything she needs along the edge of the mattress. She avoids touching him any more than she has to as she swabs the wound clear of blood. Then she carefully applies antiseptic, using a second swab to evenly distribute it. Next step is the suture tape. They both know she’ll have no choice but to touch him now.
Lonely Girl Page 27