by Anna Willett
“Call Sadie.” Lucy was torn between staying with Damon and the need to be there if Clem woke. “Make sure she knows to meet us at the hospital.” She managed a smile, but could feel tears building in her eyes again. There was urgency in the way the paramedics moved that was as alarming as the sight of the little boy’s pale face half-covered by an oxygen mask.
“I’ll meet you at the hospital.” Damon raised a hand in a half wave. He seemed to be about to say more, but the doors closed and suddenly the ambulance was speeding through the night.
* * *
Darkness was softening into grey, pulling another night into morning as Lucy climbed out of the Jeep and let Damon lead her into the house. Her damp and bloody clothes had been replaced by ill-fitting hospital scrubs that, whilst baggy, were at least soft against her battered and chafed skin. Her jeans, jumper and jacket now bagged and itemised as part of the police’s mounting evidence against Tyson Plick.
Twenty minutes later, she emerged from a hot shower to find two glasses of whiskey on the nightstand. From the kitchen came the sound of Tim’s and Damon’s voices. Instead of joining the two men, Lucy sank onto the bed and stared at her hands.
At the hospital a doctor had applied dressings to the worst of the cuts, but now the gauze squares were damp and hanging off. She supposed they’d have to be removed and reapplied at some point, but thinking about what came next made her feel so weary, her bones ached with the need for rest.
Instead of falling back onto the bed, she picked up one of the glasses and sipped the whiskey, letting it warm her throat and blur the edges of her aches and pains.
When Damon appeared in the doorway, she managed a smile.
“Nice. Thanks,” she said and raised the glass.
Without speaking, he closed the door and crossed the room. Taking his place beside her on the bed, he pulled her close. Leaning into him, smelling his clean scent and feeling the firmness of his muscles, she let her body relax. One of the things she loved about him was his stillness, knowing when to talk and when to simply hold her. It was an easy silence, both of them aware there would be plenty of time to discuss the horror of the last twenty-four hours.
After a few minutes, he took the glass from her and set it on the nightstand. “Let’s get some sleep.”
Lucy nodded. “I feel like I’ve been awake for a hundred years.” She crawled under the covers while Damon closed the curtains. Part of her thought sleep would be elusive, but with the light blocked out she fell into a dreamless slumber.
* * *
Clem Scott, the four-year-old boy missing from Cold Valley for almost ten days was this morning reunited with his parents as police swarmed a home in Narrogin. A thirty-four-year-old man is in custody, facing a string of charges, including kidnapping and murder. The little boy’s parents have released a statement thanking those involved in rescuing Clem and asking for privacy while their son recovers in hospital.
Still wearing pyjamas, Lucy watched the morning news while sipping coffee. The images on the screen of the street outside Elaine Shaw’s house followed by aerial footage of the national park where she’d hidden with Clem seemed too alive and sunny to be the same place where she had run for her life. In her mind, the bush was a dark sinister place and Elaine’s home a bloody slaughterhouse. The channel 12 footage made the area look mundane, like a normal semi-rural street where nice ordinary people went about their business.
“I’ve made you some toast,” Tim called from the kitchen. “Do you want it in there?”
Before Lucy had the chance to answer, her brother appeared with Atlas on his heels. “Here you go.” He set the plate down, but continued to hover over her.
“If I knew I’d get this much attention, I’d almost get myself killed every day.” It was a bad joke and almost as soon as the words were out and she saw the way Tim grimaced, she regretted them. “Sorry. Not funny, I know.”
“It’s kind of funny,” Damon said from the doorway, a crooked smile softening the tiny lines around his eyes.
“You two are as bad as each other,” Tim said, plopping down beside Lucy and snatching one of the slices of half-burnt toast.
“That was Lighnus on the phone.” Damon gestured toward the kitchen. “He wants us to make formal statements today, but I told him you’re not up to it yet.”
As Damon talked, Atlas sat at Lucy’s side, his chin balanced on her knee and his calm brown eyes trained on the slice of toast in her hand.
“I said we’d go in tomorrow.”
Lucy tore a piece of buttery bread off her slice and handed it to Atlas. Despite a mouthful of impressive teeth, Atlas took the hunk of bread with surprising delicacy.
“Did he mention Tyson?” Lucy was still watching the dog and for a second didn’t notice the silence.
“I didn’t ask about him.” Damon’s tone was icy and when she looked up he was frowning. “He tried to kill you, Lucy. Why do you care what happens to him?”
Taken aback by his attitude, Lucy merely shook her head. “I don’t.” Even as she said it, she knew it wasn’t true. “I just…” She was about to lie to him and yet couldn’t stop herself. “I’m just all over the place.”
As Damon’s expression softened, her self-loathing grew.
“Yeah, I know. But Clem’s safe and so are you. That’s all I care about.” There was an edge to his voice she wasn’t sure she’d ever heard before.
Chapter Thirty-six
Detectives Lighnus and Slekovic had agreed to conduct the interviews at the Mandurah Police Station, saving Lucy and Damon a trip to the city. While Lighnus made a point of informing Damon they were doing them a favour, Lucy and Damon knew they weren’t compelled to speak to the police at all if they’d chosen not to.
“Well, Miss Hush.” Lighnus made the words sound like a question, but Lucy merely fixed the detective with a blank stare. “I’m impressed.”
He held up the five-page document. “Not many witnesses take the time to type out a detailed statement.”
They were in a spacious but windowless interview room. While Lucy knew she was free to leave at any time, there was something about sitting opposite the two detectives in such a sparse setting with the tape recorder running that made her feel like a suspect.
“Don’t be impressed.” She was careful to keep her tone confident without coming across as arrogant. “I’m a reporter. I’m used to keeping the details clear.”
Lighnus flipped through her statement then passed it to Slekovic who made a show of scanning the words.
“Well, it’s very helpful,” Lighnus said. He gave a tight smile and Lucy could see what Damon meant about Lighnus being like a carpet salesman. “There are still a few things we need to go over.” He spread his hands out. “Just to make sure I have all the details.”
Lucy nodded and placed her hands in her lap. “Yes, of course.”
“Now,” Lighnus began, “you said you went to Elaine Shaw’s house looking for Mimi Shaw.” He paused, maybe to give her time to add something, but Lucy simply nodded. “If you believed Mimi Shaw had abducted Clem Scott, why didn’t you report your suspicions to the police?”
Lucy shrugged. “I had no real suspicions, only a feeling, a belief that it was odd she was at the fête wearing a fake belly. I just wanted to talk to her, see if she knew anything.”
“I see.” Lighnus glanced at his partner. “But if you–”
“How is Tyson Plick?” Lucy could see the question caught both men off guard. “I’ve given you a statement.” She pointed at the papers Slekovic held. “I’m here to answer your questions. I’d like a few answers in return.”
Lighnus’ face coloured. “That’s not how this works. We need information in order to put a case together. We’re not obliged to answer your questions.”
“Okay. In that case I’ve nothing more to say.” She picked up her coffee cup and handbag, ready to leave.
Lighnus reached out and turned off the tape recorder. “Okay. He’s still in Royal Perth Hospita
l.” She could see there was more, so she stayed standing. “He’s… His injuries aren’t serious, but the doctors have done some tests and it looks like he has stomach cancer.” Lighnus drew in a deep breath. “They need to do more scans, but it doesn’t look good.”
“Oh.” Lucy dropped back onto the chair. She pictured Tyson’s gaunt face and sunken eyes. She’d thought him to be an addict or maybe carrying hepatitis, but the news he had cancer rocked her. “Is it… I mean will he recover?”
Lighnus shook his head. When he spoke, the pompous air had vanished and she had a feeling he was being open with her. “I don’t think so. The doctors painted a pretty grim picture. That’s why we’re trying to put this thing together as quickly as possible.”
“Does he know?” Her hands were on the table. For some reason she couldn’t stop staring at the Band-Aids and dressings covering her cuts and scrapes.
“Yeah, he knows.” Lighnus scratched his almost bald pate. “He’s still a bit out of it, but he’s agreed to tell us anything we want to know. That’s why we need you to fill in as much information as possible.”
“Plick’s unreliable.” Slekovic spoke for the first time, his voice much deeper than his partner’s. “It’s hard keeping him on track. He goes from one thing to the next, jumping years and then talking about his childhood.”
He touched Lucy’s statement and leaned forward. “We believe there are others involved in this case – people responsible for the four bodies in the forest in Cold Valley. One of those bodies is Marina Plick’s, Tyson’s mother. The other three…”
He shrugged, large shoulders almost touching his ears, “…if they were in Australia illegally, we may never be able to identify them. Knowing what to ask Plick will help us track the people who used them for sport. We believe all this….” He made a circle in the air with his forefinger, “…is connected to something bigger. This might be our chance to save others from ending up like those people in the forest.”
“Yes. Yes, I’ll do what I can to help.” Lucy pulled her hands off the table. She’d pushed for answers, but it seemed the more she knew the more complicated the case became. If everything Lighnus and Slekovic were telling her was true, Tyson was involved in human trafficking, as well as murder and kidnapping. Suddenly the takeaway coffee tasted sour on her tongue and she was finding it hard to breathe.
“Are you all right, Miss Hush?” Lighnus was standing, coming around the table. “Would you like a glass of water?”
Lucy nodded, but didn’t speak. Instead, she concentrated on her breathing. She’d been here before. Panic attacks were nothing new, but understanding what was happening didn’t stop her feeling like she was suffocating.
By the time Lighnus returned, Lucy had her breathing under control and was able to lift the glass with a steady hand. “Sorry.” She hated that she was forced to apologise for her weakness and that she’d just had an episode in front of the two cops.
“Please, don’t apologise.” Despite feeling shaken, Lucy couldn’t help notice that at some point Slekovic seemed to have taken over the interview. “You’ve been through a very traumatic ordeal,” he said. “If you’re not up to talking, we can put it off for another day?” While the detective looked like a Serbian gangster, his tone was surprisingly gentle. For one horrifying moment, Lucy thought she might break down and sob.
“No, I’m fine now.” She swallowed back a lump in her throat. “I’d like to continue.”
Twenty minutes later, she sat in the gardens outside the police station, waiting for Damon to complete his interview with two uniformed officers. Before concluding the session, Lighnus had handed her a sealed plastic bag containing her handbag and its contents; items that had been retrieved from Elaine Shaw’s house. The penknife Tim made for her had been bagged and kept as evidence two nights ago. With the need for nicotine making her jittery, she tore the plastic bag open, pulled out her phone and turned it on. She had a missed call, several texts, and a voice message.
“Hi, Lucy.” She recognised Sadie’s voice almost immediately. “I know we spoke at the hospital, but it’s all a bit of a blur. I wanted to thank you for bringing Clem home.” There was a quiver in Sadie’s voice as if she was holding back tears. “Saying thank you doesn’t seem like enough. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to find the right words to let you know how grateful I am.”
Lucy had fought hard to keep her emotions in check during her interview, but now with the morning sun shining on her face she let the tears fall.
“The doctors are letting us take Clem home today. He’s doing really well, but it’s going to take time…” There was a pause before Sadie continued. “You’ve done so much I feel like a pest asking, but… Well, Clem’s been asking about you. He keeps wanting to know when you’re going to come and see him.” She gave a nervous laugh. “It’s not just him. I’d like to see you too. Um… Stay in touch. Bye.”
Lucy listened to the message a second and third time before putting her phone back in her bag. Knowing Clem was going home helped lift some of the pressure – pressure that felt like it was crushing her chest and restricting her breathing. The jumble of emotions in Sadie’s voice, relief, fear and shock; Lucy knew them so well. She also knew it wasn’t only Clem who would need time, but Sadie too. Time to process what she’d been through and what now lay ahead. In many ways Clem was one of the lucky ones, because he had a mother who loved and cherished him. People like Mimi and Tyson hadn’t been as fortunate.
Lucy would call Sadie back and set up a visit, but not now. For now she needed to concentrate on how she was going to explain to Damon what she needed to do. Maybe explaining it to him would help her understand it herself.
* * *
Damon was driving the Saab, his eyes fixed on the road as they made their way through Mandurah’s busy centre. Neither of them had said much since leaving the station. It wasn’t their usual calm silence, but an uneasy one.
“Can we stop somewhere and talk?” Lucy said.
Whatever it was that was growing between them had to stop before it took root and festered.
“Okay.” Damon sounded relaxed, but Lucy knew better.
A few minutes later, he pulled over in front of the Ocean Breeze Hotel. They ordered pale ale and sat outside in the courtyard at a barrel-shaped table shaded by a huge navy umbrella.
Lucy sipped her beer barely noticing the sharp fruity taste that she normally relished. She planned on laying it all out for him and somehow making him understand, but Damon went first.
“Look. I know you’re upset.”
He sounded strange. His usually unflappable cool seemed to have vanished, leaving him almost flustered. Seeing him like this, knowing she was the one upsetting him hurt her heart. It hurt so much she was tempted to forget what she intended to do and tell him she wanted to go home. She wanted to promise him that everything was okay.
“You’ve been through so much, but I still get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “If I’ve done something… Whatever it is, I’m sorry.” He lifted his slightly bristly chin. “I love you.” His voice was soft. “Tell me what’s wrong?”
Lucy reached across the table and took his hand. “You haven’t done anything.” If they were at home, she would have gone to him and sat on his lap. “In all this...” She waved her hand in the air. “Being with you, loving you keeps me from falling apart.”
He covered her hand so it was sandwiched between his. “So what is it then? Because something’s wrong and it’s more than what you’ve been through. It’s like your mind is somewhere else.”
Lucy didn’t know how else to put it, so she just blurted it out. “I lied to you yesterday when you asked why I cared about Tyson Plick.” At the mention of his name, Damon’s expression changed and Lucy knew this wasn’t going to be easy.
“He told me things,” she continued. “They were all jumbled up and he was half-crazed, but the things he said… I can’t get them o
ut of my mind.”
“Wait a minute.” Damon let go of her hand. “When exactly did he tell you things?” The edge she’d heard in his voice the day before was back. “He attacked you and tried to kill you and Clem.” He picked up his beer. “Now you’re telling me you talked to him.”
Lucy sank back in her chair. “I knew you wouldn’t want to listen.”
She watched him take a drink then turn his face as though studying the surrounding courtyard. He was angry and, while she’d seen him like this before, it had never been because of something she’d said or done.
“Just let me explain, please,” she said.
When he looked back and met her gaze, his eyes looked darker like they were clouded by anger. She half expected him to get up and storm away from her, but instead he nodded.
Lucy talked for almost half an hour. A few times Damon frowned, but didn’t interrupt. She finished by telling him what Lighnus told her about Tyson having stomach cancer.
“I keep thinking about what Janice told you about what a nice kid he was and then I come back to him crying and saying he never wanted to hurt anyone.” Damon looked confused, so she pushed on. “It’s not just about him. It’s Mimi too. Something happened to them at Marina’s house. Something turned those two kids into the monsters they became.”
She could see Damon’s posture softening and felt a wave of relief wash over her.
“Okay.” He drew the word out. “It makes sense. And I understand why you feel bad for him, but he’s dying and no matter how long or short his life is, he’ll spend the rest of it in prison. Whatever happened to him growing up, he’s the one who killed people. He deserves to be locked up.”
“Yes.” Lucy gave a gentle nod. “I agree, but he also deserves to have someone hear his side of things.” Damon was a compassionate man, so she hoped he’d understand what she was about to say. “I want to visit him. I want to tell his story.”
Damon brows lifted in surprise. “Lucy, do you hear what you’re saying? He tried to kill you and now you want to visit him?” He shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”