Cold Valley Nightmare

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Cold Valley Nightmare Page 7

by Anna Willett


  “No.” The word came out in a rush of air. “I mean, I’m okay. But, no, I didn’t see the body.”

  As Damon explained, Lucy clenched the phone and tried not to let herself think of Sadie and how this could be the day her life exploded into a million pieces.

  The line crackled with static, making some of what Damon said garbled. “We’re going to book into a motel in Boddington. I don’t want to leave until we know… one way or another.”

  She nodded even though he couldn’t see her. This had been everything that he was afraid of: finding Clem’s body and having to tell the boy’s mother he wasn’t coming home. While Damon wouldn’t be the one breaking the news, finding a body instead of answers would be almost as heartbreaking.

  “Book two rooms. I’ll meet you there,” she said.

  Maybe it was her imagination, but when he answered, the line seemed clearer. “No, I’m okay.” He chuckled, but there was only sadness in the sound. “I mean...” He cleared his throat. “Thanks, I need you here.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Hurting her was something he’d promised he’d never do. Something he swore he’d never let anyone do again. Smiley clamped down on Mimi’s shoulder and pushed her against the car. He could see himself reflected in her eyes, a hulking shape filling her pupils and blocking out the sunlight. The dark ring of bruising along her cheekbone had started to turn yellow, and was a stark reminder of how violently he’d broken his promise. But no matter how scared she looked, he couldn’t stop the heat that flooded his veins.

  “I’ve had a gut’s full of this running and hiding,” he said.

  She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip, feeling her bones move under his hand. He should have felt bad, but there was something satisfying in the way her mouth puckered with pain.

  “We had a good thing going at Marina’s, but then you fucked everything up. I told you taking the kid was too risky. Why can’t you just listen and understand?” He bunched his hand into a fist and made an angry gesture. “You never listen.”

  “You’re hurting me.” Mimi’s voice was breathless, croaky with pain, but instead of trying to pull away she lunged forward, pressing herself against him.

  Staring up into his eyes, her lips slightly parted, it was like they were kids again: Mimi small and terrified but somehow hard and sexy at the same time. He’d been her hero. Only two years older but always ready to protect her as best he could. The men that came to Marina’s house – his brain burned with the memory of the way they’d touched Mimi. Her cries in the night. The feeling of helplessness as he covered his ears trying to block out the moaning that wasn’t quite pain and not really pleasure.

  “Don’t hurt me, Smiley.” Her voice was older, but still had an irresistible tone – pleasure and pain. A twisted mixture that left him dizzy with excitement.

  Her fingers ran up his chest, weaving around his neck and pulling him into her. The anger was building into something else – something out of control. Her mouth was on his and he was pushing her against the car again. Only this time she didn’t try to pull away. Instead, Mimi’s fingers were on his pants, yanking at the zip.

  “I did it for us, so we can be a family.” Her words, like scaling water, made him jerk back.

  All the urgency ran out of his body and the memory of a childhood in hell and the desperate bond they’d shared was erased by the stark reality of their situation. They were not so much camping in the forest as hiding miles from anywhere. The late afternoon light bounced off the wing mirrors, making the car seem shiny in spite of its dull paint. Around them, the trees moved with a breeze that scratched at his skin. He hated the bush. It reminded him of his childhood and the filthy hovel in Cold Valley. Mimi wasn’t the girl he met when he was fifteen. She’d vanished somewhere between the drugs and the string of men she’d shacked up with while he was inside.

  “What’s the matter, bro?” She tossed her head and hitched her dress up over her thighs. “Let me make you feel better.”

  “I’m not your brother.” The word tasted like poison in his mouth, and the urge to strike out made him shake.

  They’d been in the same home – Marina’s home – for three years when they were teenagers and since then she’d clung to him like a disease. A disease that his body and mind couldn’t shake – didn’t want to shake. But when she took the kid, something inside him broke.

  “We’re getting rid of the kid.” He pushed past her and opened the driver’s door. “I know some people who’ll want him.”

  Without turning, Smiley grabbed a smoke from the packet in the console and shoved it between his lips.

  “We’ll probably get some coin out of it,” he said.

  When he turned back, Mimi was shaking her head.

  “People like the ones that came to Marina’s house?” Her voice was shrill and his urge to hit her returned. “I’m not letting you do that to him. He’s mine and I’m not–”

  The slap knocked her head to the right. A shower of spittle sprayed out of her mouth. She clamped a hand to her cheek. A wounded look came into her eyes. Behind her came sounds of whimpers from the kid inside the car. Smiley lit his smoke and watched Mimi through the haze. He was pushing things with her. They were on risky ground. He could feel it in his belly, grinding and turning like a hot poker. Once, years ago, he’d have cared, but not now.

  She was unpredictable – dangerous. The things that first drew him to her now set his teeth on edge. He’d been making decent money when they went back to Marina’s. He wasn’t like the sickos that came for the chase, he did it for the money. Cash was the only thing that mattered. When as a teenager he’d learned that money in his pocket could get him out of abuse and poverty, he’d promised himself he’d do anything to insulate himself from the life his mother had forced on him. Now that was gone and his only chance of staying out of prison and cashed up was to get rid of the kid and find a new base. If not for Mimi’s promise of a safe place to work, he’d dump her and the kid and take off.

  He could see Mimi’s mind working even as she held her face and let tears slip over her cheeks. He’d seen that look a million times. She was sorting through the situation, trying to figure out how to turn things her way.

  “Let me keep him and once we’ve made some money I’ll go east.” The shrill tone was gone, replaced by one that sounded like honey. “I can…” She reached out a finger and hooked it into the waistband of his jeans. “I’ll set up somewhere quiet and when things get too hot for you here...” She tugged at his pants. “I’ll be waiting.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ll always be waiting for you. I’m the only person you can rely on.”

  He looked down at her finger; it reminded him of a claw. She’d had her claws in him for so long he couldn’t remember what it was like to be free.

  “He goes to one of my contacts or I dig a hole out there.” He plucked the cigarette out of his mouth and used it to point toward the trees. “You decide.”

  She opened her mouth, but before she could argue he flicked the cigarette at her, making her jump as it flew past her face. She was angry more than scared; he could see it in her eyes. There might be trouble ahead, but in the end she’d do as she was told.

  “Get your shit together. We’re leaving.” He opened the car door and slid behind the wheel, a smile frozen on his face. It was an expression that lacked any hint of humour.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The wheels on her compact, red suitcase jumped over the wooden floorboards, rattling with a plastic urgency that seemed to fascinate Atlas as he followed her down the hall. Lucy had packed light, taking only enough for a few days at best.

  She slung her handbag on the kitchen table and slipped the laptop case from under her arm. “I might be back tomorrow, but if not, no later than Wednesday.”

  “No worries.” Tim was out of his room, searching inside the fridge.

  He seemed distracted. If Damon were here, he’d remind her that Tim was always a bit introspective. It was a kin
d way of saying that Tim was still checked out; a state of being that was an improvement on the depression that had gripped her younger brother since a car accident took the lives of their parents and left Tim a ghost of the boy he’d once been.

  She thought of asking him to stay until she got back, but bit her tongue. “There’s some lasagne in the freezer and a packet of mincemeat if Atlas feels like something bloody.”

  “It might not be the little boy.” He spoke without turning away from the fridge.

  She’d told him about her conversation with Damon and that he and Brock found something in the forest. “Yeah, I know.”

  She put the laptop case next to her computer, but made no move to slide it into the nylon sleeve. Instead, she brought up the clip from the fête. The second and longer snatch of footage bothered her, but she wasn’t sure why. After her conversation with Damon, she’d watched it at least six more times, but nothing jumped out at her.

  It was nearly three o’clock and if she wanted to make it to Boddington by five she should have been packing her stuff in the car. Yet, something about the clip nagged at her.

  “What’s that?”

  She’d been so intent on the screen she hadn’t heard Tim as he came up behind her. She let out a long breath.

  “It’s footage from the Cold Valley fête,” she said.

  She glanced over her shoulder surprised to see her brother’s interested expression. “It was taken eight days before Clem went missing.” She paused the film. “He was lost at the fête, only for ten minutes.” She shook her head. “But…”

  “Too much of a coincidence?” Tim finished the thought for her.

  “Yes.” Lucy couldn’t help smiling at Tim’s insightfulness. “That’s exactly what I thought.” She turned back to the screen. “Only I keep going over this clip and there’s nothing suspicious or out of place.”

  “Can I take a look?” When Tim spoke, Lucy’s finger was on the tracer, ready to close the clip and pack up her laptop.

  “Yes, of course.” They were both standing over the computer when Lucy stepped aside.

  Tim sat at the table. For once his hair wasn’t covered by the scruffy beanie. It struck Lucy that maybe there was a change in him. Not just that he seemed less melancholic, there seemed a calmness about him that had been absent since before… Her thoughts slowed. The last time she remembered Tim being completely relaxed was just before the accident, the night her parents died and the four of them had been together for the last time as a family.

  “That’s weird.” His words cut through her momentary lapse and suddenly her gaze was on the screen.

  Just as she’d seen and heard countless times: the tinkle of music and the murmur of voices, a red balloon waved in front of the camera momentarily blocking the stage, dancing girls, their movements smooth and rehearsed.

  “What? I don’t see anything?” Her eyes scanned the screen, but the scene looked mundane – idyllic.

  “Look again.” Tim’s voice was low yet tinged with excitement. “Watch the crowd.” He tapped the screen. “Here on the right.”

  “I don’t see…”

  To the right of the small stage, a scattering of what Lucy assumed were mothers stood watching the show. Women content to stand at the edge of the crowd and wait while their children sat on the grass eating candy floss and watching the dancing. The owner of the phone taking the footage moved from left to right, taking in the small gathering. Just before the filming ended, the lens rested on the mothers. Lucy’s eyes grew wide.

  Her voice matched Tim’s in excitement. “Jesus, that is weird.”

  He nodded and pointed at the screen where a dark-haired woman stood. “Here. Watch it again.”

  He dragged the clip back a few seconds and then both he and Lucy watched the strange event play out.

  The dark-haired woman stood slightly apart from the other women. Her eyes were covered with dark glasses and she wore a fitted yellow dress that showed every curve of her body. Judging by the angle of her face, she wasn’t watching the stage but something on the other side of the grassy area.

  As Lucy followed the woman’s movements, she realised why she’d barely noticed her on the numerous times she’d watched the clip. The woman was heavily pregnant and for some reason that Lucy didn’t have time to fathom it had been enough to exclude the woman from suspicion. It was only when a blue balloon landed at the woman’s feet and she bent to retrieve it that the oddness of the situation became apparent.

  When the woman bent, her belly folded on itself, making it clear that her pregnancy was fake. Tim turned from the screen and looked up into Lucy’s face. “You want to watch it again?”

  Lucy began to answer, then stopped. When she tracked down a new lead or a salient piece of information there was always a flip in her stomach, a familiar flutter of excitement. This time her stomach was turning like a Ferris wheel.

  “Yes, but first close the clip and open the document marked Fête List. We need to track down the woman’s name.”

  The woman on the footage was identified as: Pregnant woman – yellow dress, Milly or Maddie? Sadie’s list gave no other information. When they watched the clip again it was impossible to miss the fake baby bump.

  “How did you spot that?” Lucy shoved the laptop in the case and checked her handbag, making sure she had her phone and keys.

  Tim shrugged. He’d always been able to see how things worked. For someone that relished solitude, he was remarkably aware of the world around him and how interconnected everything was. Lucy was always amazed by how her brother’s mind not only sought out information but stored it.

  “Okay, well, I’m glad you did.” She watched Atlas stand and stretch before trotting over to where she was standing. “Keep an eye on the place while I’m gone.” She bent and ruffled the soft fur behind his ear. She had directed her comment at the dog, but hoped Tim would take the request on board and hang around.

  Once she had the suitcase loaded in the boot, she pulled out her phone and sent Damon a text. She thought about going into detail about what they’d found. In the end, she decided to keep it simple.

  Found something interesting on the footage from the fête. Tell you more when I see you. XX

  As she pressed send, the back door clattered open and Tim jogged down the steps with Atlas bouncing along behind him.

  “I made you something.” He held his hand out palm up. “It might come in handy.”

  Lucy took the silver object and held it up to the afternoon sun where a beam of light played over its edges. It was unlike anything she’d ever seen. About eight centimetres long, with one end curved and the other flat, it made her think of an alien penknife, beautiful in a sort of industrial way. On one side were four green beads.

  “I based the idea on Greek worry beads and used the parts from the workings of a 1950s radiogram.” He nodded toward the object. “It might help if you have another cigarette day.”

  Lucy ran her fingers over the beads, noticing how cold and smooth they felt under her fingers. “And this?” She slid her thumb over the side of the silver bar. A small blade came out of it. She smiled, but when she looked at Tim his hazel eyes were solemn.

  “You never know, Lucy.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Inland, the late afternoon light was made richer as it bounced off the red gravel and dusted the forest. The hour and a half journey from Lake Clifton had been uneventful, giving Lucy time to ponder what she’d seen on the footage as she negotiated several country roads.

  The idea that Clem’s short disappearance at the fête was linked to his subsequent abduction took root and Lucy was certain that finding the woman in the yellow dress would give them the answers they needed. But to do that she had to speak to Sadie and find out who had helped her identify the woman known as Milly or Maddie.

  As the forest thinned and opened up to rolling fields and clutches of livestock, a large blue sign appeared, welcoming guests to Boddington. A West Australian Super Town, the sign a
lso said. She couldn’t help wondering what that meant, but the thought was fleeting as she quickly found herself in the centre of town and had to crane her neck to spot the turn-off that would take her to the motel.

  At just past five o’clock she pulled her suitcase out of the car and trundled across the paved driveway to room six. Before knocking she looked skywards at a low-flying helicopter. Even from a distance the distinctive Channel 12 logo was hard to miss. She knew better than anyone that bad news travelled fast, even in a huge state like Western Australia. Her mind threw up an image: crime scene tape and forensics vehicles surrounding a ramshackle building in the forest. It was an image that haunted her nightmares and set off a run of gooseflesh over her arms. Out of nowhere an old phrase leapt into her mind. Here be dragons.

  The expression came from a fifteenth century globe and appeared around the map of the east coast of Asia. Yet somehow the ancient warning seemed to fit what she’d experienced in Night Town and what was happening in Cold Valley.

  Except it’s not dragons, but monsters. “Here be monsters,” she said out loud into the overcast sky and noticed how her voice sounded lonely and swallowed by the whir of helicopter blades.

  “I’m mostly harmless.” The deep familiar voice startled her. Her laptop case nearly dropped from her hand.

  Damon held the door open, his hair damp and clinging to his scalp as the scent of shampoo wafted through the doorway. Lucy fumbled with the computer, only just managing to catch it before it hit the concrete paving.

  “I was just…” She felt absurdly disarmed and more than a little embarrassed. She loved Damon with all her heart and sometimes that made her feel awkward, almost childish. Not because of anything he did, but because she couldn’t be tough and guarded with him. With Damon, her defences were down and sometimes she felt exposed.

  “I noticed the helicopter.” Not wanting to burden him with her flashback, she grappled for an explanation but settled on misdirection. “How did you know I was out here?”

 

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