Catch Us the Foxes

by Nicola West

  But then I heard a voice – a man’s – coming from the other side of the stables.

  ‘Fuck, man. What do we do?’

  And then, another. ‘Get the bloody cuffs off, now.’

  I knew who it was before I rounded the corner. And yet, I could never have anticipated what would be lying at his feet.

  CHAPTER 34

  Steve Masters was slumped in front of Nathan, blood spilling from a wound on his head, eerily similar to Lily’s. They were positioned in front of her stall, but the stables were barely recognisable since the last time I’d seen them. Each cage now bloomed with the pavilion’s mismatched flowers. A patchwork of foliage reminiscent of the gaudy quilts entered in competition. It looked like a wild, overgrown garden. A twisted fairy tale of a memorial.

  Steve’s eyes were shut, but he looked less peaceful than Lily had. There was tension in his face. As if it were still responding to the pain he’d obviously felt. Why had I not gone back to him and his family earlier that day? I’d told myself my time was better spent doing other things.

  Like what? Spending the evening flirting with a journalist and shamelessly using a dead girl as a bargaining chip? Mark was right, I was a vulture. And here I was once again circling a corpse.

  Nathan’s partner kneeled down and clumsily removed the handcuffs from behind Steve’s back. His arms violently lolled forward, no longer controlled by their owner, and hit the concrete with a sickening thwack. In the moonlight, his blood shimmered like molten metal. I was going to vomit and I didn’t even have the Hurricane as an excuse.

  ‘Get someone!’ Nathan shouted at his partner.

  The other cop nodded and ran off towards the fire. Nathan stared down at Steve, kicked the ground beside him and swore under his breath.

  ‘What did you do?’ I growled, stepping out from the end of the stables.

  ‘Who’s there?’ Nathan yelled, his hand reaching for his holster.

  ‘What the fuck did you do?’ I shouted, undeterred.

  ‘Lo?’ he asked, holding his hands up towards me. ‘Look, it’s not what –’

  My body was no longer my own. I had lost all control. I felt my legs power forward, my bare feet slapping against the concrete, and my fists pummelling.

  I heard my voice scream, ‘What the fuck did you do?’ over and over again.

  He didn’t fight back. Didn’t even try. Instead, he took my beating. My arms thrashed against his shoulders, neck and head, the latter of which he meekly tried to protect. It was a cathartic yet wholly ineffective fit of rage.

  ‘Lo, please,’ he pleaded. ‘It wasn’t me; it was them.’

  ‘You fucking piece of shit,’ I screamed. ‘I know. She knew. Everyone’s going to fucking know!’

  My throat was raw from the smoke and tears streamed from my eyes, but I continued my onslaught.

  ‘What the hell are you doing, Marlowe?’ a voice hissed somewhere behind me.

  Two large arms wrapped themselves around my waist, dragging me off Nathan.

  ‘Don’t fucking touch me,’ I screamed, kicking and squirming, trying to escape the person’s grip.

  ‘You’re assaulting a police officer!’ Owen yelled into my ear.

  He carried me away from Nathan, back behind the stables. I was furious he’d followed me.

  ‘He’s not a cop,’ I spat. ‘He’s a coward!’

  ‘You’re going to get arrested,’ he said, wrestling me as I writhed in his arms. I hated the fact that he was so much stronger than me.

  ‘I don’t fucking care!’

  He put his hand over my mouth, pressed his lips against my jaw and whispered, ‘Calm down, right now. Do you actually want to expose these bastards?’

  I wriggled and he squeezed me tighter.

  ‘Answer me.’

  I stopped fighting and nodded.

  ‘Do you think that’s something you’ll be able to do from prison?’

  He squeezed again and I shook my head.

  ‘Then calm the fuck down, kiddo. And let’s get these pricks.’

  Owen eased me onto the ground and I slumped to my knees, coughing, spluttering and crying. I was shocked by what I had done. By what had come over me. But when I thought of Steve’s body – lying so close to where hers had been and bearing the same injuries – my actions seemed completely reasonable.

  ‘Are you okay, Lo?’ a voice above me whispered. I was shocked to see it was Nathan.

  ‘She’s fine,’ Owen answered.

  ‘Lo? Do you know this guy?’ Nathan asked, seemingly concerned.

  I managed to nod my head as I got to my feet.

  ‘Look, I know you’re upset,’ Nathan said. ‘But your dad’ll be here any second, and he’ll bloody kill you if he sees you came. I saw him text you, I know he told you not to.’

  ‘I think he’s right, Marlowe,’ Owen said. ‘It’s probably best if no one knows you were here. I assume you’ll keep this incident to yourself, officer?’

  The way he said it pissed me off.

  ‘Yeah, mate.’ Nathan nodded. ‘Just a misunderstanding. No need to get anyone else involved.’

  I laughed hollowly. ‘No need to let anyone else know there was a witness to you murdering someone, you mean?’

  Nathan crumpled like I’d punched him in his stomach. If I hadn’t known better, I would have sworn I saw tears in his eyes. He beckoned me closer, placing a finger over his lips, and pointed past the side of the stables. Curiosity got the better of me and I crept up to the edge and peered around.

  ‘He’s not dead,’ he whispered as I watched the paramedics transfer Steve’s unconscious body onto a stretcher. ‘And I wasn’t the person who did that to him.’

  He carefully pulled me back behind the stables before anyone noticed me.

  ‘Bullshit,’ I spat.

  ‘It’s true,’ Owen said, behind me. ‘People in the crowd were throwing things – bottles and rocks. One of them hit Steve as they were arresting him. I saw it.’

  ‘Well that’s fucking convenient, isn’t it?’

  ‘I don’t get it, Lo,’ Nathan said. ‘He killed Lily. Why do you care?’

  ‘Fuck. You.’ I spat, feeling that other part of me begin to take over again. That loss of control.

  ‘Marlowe…’ Owen threatened.

  ‘Look,’ Nathan said, ‘I’ve gotta get back. The ambulance will be coming this way any second. You guys have to go before someone sees you.’

  Owen grabbed my wrist but I snatched it back. He sighed loudly.

  ‘Marlowe, we have to go. The entire crowd saw Steve being struck. They know it wasn’t Nathan. Your statement won’t do anything other than incriminate you.’

  I ran my fingers through my knotted hair, feeling tree sap, pine needles and god knows what else. I sighed – a deep, guttural exhale that seemed to expel all the energy from my body. I just wanted to sleep. To close my eyes and forget everything. To give up. My gaze leaped to the cliff face and I pictured the roaring ocean below. I thought of my dream. Of Lily jumping, and my decision to follow her – to end it.

  I didn’t want to die. I just wanted to disappear for a while.

  CHAPTER 35

  I left with Owen. Or tried to, at least. We retreated back under the grandstand, hoping to head back to Dan’s car. But Owen suddenly stopped and I ran straight into his back. The spice of his aftershave intermingled with the damp smell of the earth beneath our feet. It was oddly comforting.

  ‘Fuck,’ he whispered.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Everyone’s gone.’

  I squatted down and peered out. He was right. The entire mob had disappeared, replaced by roving police officers cordoning off areas and directing the retreating fire engines. I couldn’t see from where we were, but it appeared that the fire had been extinguished. None of it seemed like a problem until I realised Dan was also gone.

  ‘Shit,’ I muttered, pulling out my phone, and withdrawing back into the depths of the grandstand’s underside. I had several missed calls and a me
ssage.

  soz something happened & the crowd bolted

  had 2 get out of there

  im at the church if u can get here

  We couldn’t. Not with that many cops around. I couldn’t risk them telling my father that I’d been there after he’d explicitly told me not to come. I didn’t want to admit it, but regardless of the extent of his involvement in the cult, I was still scared of him. I wrote back to Dan and told him to go home.

  ‘What the hell are you going to do?’ Owen asked, watching the cops. ‘Without the crowd, there’s no way you can get out without someone seeing you.’

  I didn’t know. Didn’t care. It all seemed so futile. So unwinnable. I was powerless, and it was killing me. I slumped down onto the ground. It wasn’t like my dress could get any dirtier.

  ‘Marlowe?’ Owen whispered, spinning around.

  ‘Just go,’ I said. ‘I’ll stay here and wait them out.’

  He eased himself onto the ground beside me. It was probably good that he couldn’t see me roll my eyes. I stretched my head skyward and stared into the nothingness, imagining the canopy of the rainforest. I jumped at Owen’s touch, his knee lightly brushing mine.

  ‘You okay, kiddo?’

  No.

  ‘I just want to go to bed,’ I replied.

  ‘Here,’ he said, elbowing me in the side and patting his shoulder. ‘We’ll be here for the long haul. You should rest.’

  To my surprise, I surrendered. It helped that I couldn’t see him and that he couldn’t see me. We sat there like that, with my head rested on his shoulder – in complete silence – for the longest time. But just as I was on the precipice of sleep, I heard Owen sigh.

  ‘You really think the carny is innocent, don’t you?’ he whispered.

  ‘He is innocent,’ I sleepily replied.

  Owen gently rested his head on top of mine.

  ‘Not going to lie, kiddo, didn’t think you had it in you. But you’re one scrappy li’l fighter, aren’t you?’

  I tried not to think of Michael’s words.

  ‘It was stupid,’ I replied. ‘But seeing him there, just like her…’

  ‘I think that cop was quite disappointed when I pulled you off him. I mean, not retaliating in any way?’ He elbowed me in the side again. ‘Think he was enjoying himself a little too much. If you catch my drift.’

  I pulled my head away from his.

  ‘Let me guess? You’re not his type – right? Like the bartender? He just sees you as a sister?’ He scoffed to himself. ‘You’re kidding yourself, Marlowe. Bet half the bloody town’s in love with you, and you can’t even see it.’

  ‘You don’t know shit about me or this town.’

  Even in the darkness, I could sense that counterfeit smile. ‘Then tell me, kiddo. Let’s start right here.’

  ‘The showground?’

  ‘No, here. Underneath the bleachers. Bet this place has seen a lot of action over the years.’ Owen leaned in close. ‘Pretty sweet hook-up spot.’

  He was trying. He was still fucking trying.

  Before I had a chance to reply, Owen was already kissing me. His mouth firmly pressed against mine, his tongue tentatively exploring the unwelcoming cavity.

  There was only one thought in my mind: Bite – hard.

  Thankfully, I quickly quashed it before any lasting damage was done.

  I didn’t pull away, but I wasn’t exactly an active participant. Something was being done to me, rather than with me. I had hoped that the darkness would make it easier – that he wouldn’t be able to see my lack of interest. Similarly, I’d hoped that, by not having to see the unrequited hunger behind his eyes, I wouldn’t have to experience the suffocating feeling of the associated guilt.

  And yet, there it was.

  I knew he could sense it too. That lack of something. But, unlike the hotel room, he powered through. His mouth became more ravenous, and his hands began to softly trail over my body. My skin screamed.

  ‘Come on,’ he growled. ‘I know you want me.’

  I didn’t know who he was trying to convince more.

  ‘Owen,’ I began.

  ‘Shh, shh,’ he hushed, moving his lips from my mouth to my ear.

  ‘You’ll never be me, kiddo,’ he whispered, his hand snaking up my thigh. ‘But this is the next best thing.’

  I grabbed his hand, wrenching his fingers off my bare skin with an alarming amount of force.

  ‘No. I can’t.’

  He snatched his hand away from mine and slammed back into the wall behind him. I could feel his pent-up aggression wheezing out of him like a deflated balloon.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I muttered, frustrated with myself the second the words escaped my lips.

  ‘What’s the issue?’ he asked exasperatedly. ‘Are you gay?’

  Ah, yes. The only conceivable reason a woman would ever turn down a man, especially one as used to getting his way as Owen.

  ‘Nope,’ I replied.

  The truth was, the only thing I was less attracted to than men was women. But I knew that telling him was pointless. People just didn’t get that type of thing. Hell, I barely got it.

  ‘Then what?’ he asked. His voice had faltered ever so slightly. He was genuinely hurt.

  I found him so pathetic. How could someone so intelligent, so powerful, be brought to his knees by something so mundane? I could feel him staring at me through the darkness, desperately looking for an answer that would assuage his dented ego. I knew what I had to do.

  ‘A person I spent almost every day of my life with was murdered here,’ I began. ‘Like, ten metres away. I found her mutilated corpse two nights ago. So, I’m really sorry if I’m not in the mood to fuck you right now.’

  It wasn’t the right answer, but it was probably a better one.

  ‘Well, fuck, Marlowe,’ Owen hissed, leaning in close. His breath was hot on my neck. ‘Maybe you should think of that shit before you lead a bloke on.’

  CHAPTER 36

  I ran. Away from the grandstand. Away from the showground. And away from Owen fucking Archer.

  Nobody stopped me or even tried to. It’s possible they didn’t notice me, or simply didn’t care. The police had thinned out during my time under the grandstand, more interested in keeping the rapacious media at bay. And the ambulance containing Steve Masters’ unconscious body had long gone. My dad definitely hadn’t seen me though, and that was the most important thing. He wouldn’t ask, and I wouldn’t tell.

  I made it home, somehow. As if I’d teleported there. But the sore soles of my feet suggested I’d run the entire distance. The house was empty – the lights still off.

  I peeled off my dress and hopped into the shower, hoping to wash away the evidence of the evening. It wasn’t so much the showground’s dirt I was trying to get rid of but Owen’s touch. The presumed possessiveness of it still lingered on my skin.

  I was furious at him for blaming his desire on me. For suggesting that I had somehow been asking for it. And yet, deep down, some part of me recognised that he was right. I had wanted him to want me. But nothing more. It wasn’t exactly fair to him, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been a world-class prick.

  I wanted to cry but couldn’t muster it. It seemed to be too much effort for my overtired mind. And yet, I craved that release. Without it, I thought I might implode.

  I spent the rest of the night curled up on the lounge watching the intermittent news coverage of the night’s events. The mob, the fire and Steve’s ‘accident’. The reports corroborated what Owen and Nathan had alleged, but that didn’t mean the situation wasn’t suspicious as all hell.

  The crowd had shown up earlier in the evening. A large group of local men who had taken it upon themselves to ‘protect’ the women of the community. If Steve wasn’t going to be arrested, then they were going to ensure that he wouldn’t have the opportunity to kill anyone else.

  It had started off innocently enough – puffed chests, glaring eyes and whispered insults. But, when the carnie
s emerged from their trailers, the police had to step in to avoid an all-out brawl. There was posturing from both sides – hurled abuse, threats of violence, a bit of push and shove – but it wasn’t until a Molotov cocktail landed on the top of the Masters’ trailer that all hell broke loose.

  Witnesses could describe the roaring fireball emitted from the caravan’s gas system with an alarming amount of clarity. And yet, strangely, not a single witness could recall a specific person throwing anything. Yes, one person had said, the Molotov had definitely come from the mob, but there was no way to tell who had thrown it, and you couldn’t possibly expect the police to arrest all of them, could you?

  It was the same with the object that had allegedly struck Steve: the community banding together – us versus them. The sickening thud the rock had made as it hit Steve’s skull was enough to spook the mob though. They’d fled before anyone had a chance to point fingers, and the police seemed wholly unmotivated to find the perpetrator. As far as anyone was concerned, justice had been served.

  There was something biblical about it – an eye for an eye, a public stoning.

  An innocent man silenced.

  The pressure from the mob was rumoured to have fast-tracked Steve’s arrest warrant. And my dad’s name was thrown around as the person who’d made the call to take him into custody during the fire. Whether he had any say in Nathan’s decision to perp-walk Steve past the crowd remained to be seen. Maybe if he hadn’t been handcuffed, he would have been able to protect his head.

  The news posited that the arrest had occurred because there was concern Steve would use the fire as a way to escape. One witness even went so far as to accuse the carnies of lighting it themselves as a distraction. It didn’t matter that there was absolutely nothing to support the claim – the news channels still reported it.

  The ambulance that picked Steve up only drove him the short distance to the harbour’s helipad. The closest hospital – some twenty minutes away – didn’t have the facilities to deal with his injuries, so the rescue helicopter transported him to Wollongong Hospital, where he was placed in intensive care.