Dangerous Echoes

by Leisl Leighton

  ‘He loved her. Just as she loved him.’ The memory of that made her smile. She’d forgotten their love for each other, their love for their children. It had hurt so much to remember it, because with those memories came such loss and grief. But now, finally, in front of her grandmother, those memories came free, and they no longer hurt or made her feel small. They set her free. She’d come from love. She’d been loved, so, so much, by good people who had deserved much more time on this earth than they’d had. Her mouth twisted as she realised how much damage she’d done to herself by forgetting that.

  ‘She loved him! A fat lot of good that did him in the end.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘She killed him.’

  ‘No she didn’t. They died in a car accident.’

  ‘She was driving. She’d had too much to drink. And had drugs in her system.’

  A creeping sensation crawled up Erika’s spine. She’d never understood where that rumour had come from—the one that her mother was a drugged-out alcoholic who had caused the accident—but now she realised exactly where it had originated. ‘Daddy was driving that night. Not Mummy.’

  ‘No, no. That’s not true. It was her. Her!’

  ‘You forget. I was there.’

  ‘So? You never remembered. The doctors said you couldn’t remember. It was too traumatic. Some kind of stress-related amnesia they called it.’

  ‘I remembered. I was just too traumatised to talk about it.’ Horrifying realisation dawned. ‘And you took advantage of that to blame my mother for something that was never her fault.’

  ‘Yes! Yes I did.’

  ‘But it was a lie.’ She took a step forward. ‘Why? Why did you lie about such a thing?’

  ‘Because I couldn’t have it out there that my boy was at fault.’

  ‘He wasn’t at fault. We were run off the road by a driver on the wrong side of the road. The police must have known Daddy was driving.’

  ‘That’s not what it says in the report.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  Mabel smiled at her.

  Erika’s eyes widened. ‘You had the police reports changed.’

  ‘Of course I did. I couldn’t have them finding out the truth.’

  ‘The truth?’ Images from that night flashed before her eyes like the staccato flickering of an old-fashioned news reel. They’d been at Mabel’s house. She and her mother and father. Peter had been staying at a friend’s place for a few days because they were going to Sydney to attend a fundraising event in Timnah’s honour, and he would be bored to tears. Erika, on the other hand, wanted to go. They’d been so proud of her, wanting to show off their brilliant daughter. The memory of that was like a gasp of fresh air inside her.

  They’d just found out the foundation her mother worked for had got funding to send her to Far North Queensland to set up a heart health clinic for the Indigenous communities, and they were all moving up there with her, to be a part of that community and experience a different way of living. Mabel had served drinks, fawning all over Peter Snr in that way of hers that had always made Erika feel edgy and sick. Her father had thrown back three drinks before mentioning Timnah’s good news, the pride on his face shining in his smile, his hand stroking down her mother’s back. Mabel had become hysterical. She’d said all sorts of horrible things about Timnah and was starting into Erika when Peter Snr had told his mother she was a hateful bitch and he never wanted to see her again. He’d thrown back his fourth drink, grabbed Erika and her mother’s hands and marched them out of the house and into the car, Mabel’s screams dying off in the distance as they drove away.

  They’d driven down the Mitchell toward the airport at Bourke where they were chartering a flight to Sydney. She remembered her mother’s softly accented voice, asking her father to slow down, to calm down, to pull over so she could drive. ‘You’ve had too much to drink, Motek. You always do every time you see your Ima. You shouldn’t be driving.’

  ‘You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll pull over after this rise and you can drive.’

  Her mother’s hand on her father’s shoulder, the smile they shared that made Erika’s stomach fill with warmth. Everything was fine. They were going to be fine. They drove over the rise, the indicator on to pull over. Another car came flying toward them, lights off, in their lane. Her father saw it too late, swerved to avoid it. They hit the loose dirt at the side of the road, spun and flipped and the world turned into hell.

  Erika blinked the memory away as realisation sank in. ‘You were afraid it would come out that dad was over the legal limit. That maybe the accident wouldn’t have happened if he’d not had those drinks you’d shoved down his throat.’

  Mabel jabbed her finger into the air. ‘Stupid girl. Of course I couldn’t let anyone know that your father was drunk when driving. Another drunk Hanson, following in his grandfather’s footsteps. And all because your bitch of a mother was trying to take him from me. I couldn’t allow that to happen. Not after everything my husband and I sacrificed to keep everything going, to keep it together, to keep the Hanson family name one that was respected and looked up to. Your mother had taken everything else from me, she wasn’t taking that too.’

  ‘For the name? You changed the truth for the family name?’ She shook her head, unable to comprehend Mabel’s twisted thinking.

  Mabel’s mouth thinned. ‘Yes. Except, it didn’t work did it? Your mother had the last laugh. She lumped me with you and I was reminded of what I’d done every time I looked at you.’

  ‘I am part of my father too. You could have seen him in me.’

  Mabel barked out a laugh. ‘You are nothing like my son in looks or nature. You were so awkward and needy.’

  ‘I saw my mother and father die. I’d tried to save them, but they died anyway.’

  ‘Yes. Your smarts weren’t enough, were they?’

  ‘I was twelve!’

  ‘You delighted in making those around you feel stupid because you were so smart. Just like your mother. Sent to torment me and remind me that if not for you both, I would never have lost my precious Peter. She took him from me. She took his love and I can never get that back.’ She began to sob, her hands coming up to cover her face.

  Erika stared at her grandmother, something like sympathy stirring inside her. ‘I would have loved you if you’d let me.’

  Mabel looked up, hatred in her tear-filled eyes. ‘I didn’t want your love, Timnah. I wanted my Peter back. You didn’t deserve him. You never deserved him! And where is he now? He’s been gone for days. He’s not been in to visit. He told me he’d visit. Where is he? Where is he? I want him back. I want him back!’

  Her voice had risen to a screech and Erika took a step back. Insanity was staring out at her. She’d never realised it before, but it had always been there.

  As her grandmother screamed and cried and the nurses rushed in behind her, something inside her shifted, lifting, a shroud of misunderstanding falling away to reveal a simple truth she’d always denied.

  Her grandmother hadn’t hated her because of anything she’d done. She’d hated her because she had a twisted and unhealthy mind. It wouldn’t have mattered if her mother hadn’t been a foreigner or Jewish—any woman who took her son from her would have been equally despised. Her mother’s strange name, her religion, her intelligence that Mabel took as an insult, her accent, simply gave Mabel an excuse for her hatred. And she’d transferred that hatred to Erika when Peter Snr and Timnah died, simply because Erika was more like her mother than her father. Erika had never stood a chance to gain anything close to affection from a woman so horribly damaged. A woman incapable of loving anyone in any good way. Not even her son. Or grandson. Certainly not the granddaughter who reminded her of the woman who had won her son’s love.

  Only now, with the weight of Mabel’s hatred lifting from her, did she remember her father’s last words to her as he lay dying, his blood all over her hands. ‘You are so special. So special. Your light is incandescent. D
on’t let anyone take that from you. Don’t forget that, Erika. And don’t forget you are loved. You are made to be loved.’

  Oh god! She’d allowed her grandmother’s bitterness to make her forget those words, that feeling. To not let herself see that other people loved her too—Daphne, Pip, Peter, Mac, back then and now. Daphne and Pip had loved her so much, they’d given her the money to leave and had sent her to Jenny, who had also loved her and believed in her.

  And Hartley.

  He’d loved her when they were children. She couldn’t accept his love then. She’d been too damaged, too unable to see her worth. All she could accept was his friendship. But even that, in the end, had been too much, and she’d run, because she’d believed what her grandmother said about her, that she wasn’t worthy of love. She didn’t believe that anymore. She wasn’t strange and unlovable. She was remarkable. She deserved to have the love her parents wished for her with their dying breaths.

  ‘Thank you for the truth,’ she said to her grandmother’s door, and then she turned and walked away from the past that had blighted too much of her life already. She was going to start to change that. Today.

  She had to find Hartley. She needed to tell him she loved him. What happened next, she didn’t know, but she was determined to make certain he knew beyond doubt how she felt for him and always had.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The taxi slowed down before they reached the police station. ‘There seems to be a bit of a kerfuffle up ahead, miss.’

  An ambulance and a MICA unit were pulled up out the front along with a firetruck, lights still whirling. And there was a crowd surrounding the police-station entrance.

  Oh god. What had happened? Hartley!

  She threw money at the taxi driver and leapt out before he’d even come to a complete stop. She ran, backpack banging against her back, pushing past the crowd of onlookers who were being held back by the firemen from the truck. One of them tried to stop her, but thankfully Toby was there and waved her through.

  ‘Hartley?’

  He gripped her shoulder. ‘He’s okay. He’s inside with Mac giving his report.’ He gestured behind him.

  A man—a blond man—lay sprawled on the front steps of the police station, blood pooling around him, eyes staring blindly at the blue sky above. Steph and Greg, the ambulance officers she’d met, were working on him, but Erika could see it was too late. The man had what looked like multiple gunshot wounds to the chest. It wasn’t likely he would survive, even if they got his heart pumping again. ‘What happened?’

  ‘I’m not sure. Coops and Mac were bringing a suspect in for questioning. I’m not sure why they thought he was involved.’

  ‘The hair.’ Toby’s brows furrowed. ‘I found a hair in the ambulance. It matched the hair we found at the warehouse. It looked like that.’ She pointed at the man.

  ‘Someone was worried about him being brought in.’

  She looked down at the man. ‘Did they catch the shooter?’

  ‘No. A man rode up on a bike and unloaded a clip. You’ll have to ask Hartley for more info.’

  She stared at him, shock making her immobile for a moment. A drive-by? But this was a country town. Quiet and peaceful. This kind of thing happened in the cities, not in places like this. She had to make sure Hartley was okay. She ran inside. Hartley was coming out of the superintendent’s office, in deep conversation with Mac. Both men had blood sprayed across their necks and faces, and blood on their hands. They must have been right beside the man when he was shot and then immediately tried to save him. She knew neither of them had been hurt—otherwise they’d be in the ambulance or already at the hospital. Even so, her heart was in her mouth as she called out Hartley’s name.

  He turned. His gaze met hers. He frowned and then with a quick word to Mac, who nodded and headed off to his desk, walked over to her. ‘I’m okay. I’m okay,’ he said as he neared.

  ‘I know.’ She couldn’t stop herself from touching him anyway, to make sure. ‘Toby told me there was a drive-by. What happened? Who was he?’

  ‘Come on.’ He took her hand and led her down the hall. ‘I’ll tell you while I clean up.’

  She let him lead her to the locker room at the back of the station and stood as he stripped off his shirt, put it in an evidence bag, and washed his face, neck and hands. She waited as he put on a light grey t-shirt, strapped on his shoulder holster and gun, and then slung on a light charcoal jacket before asking, ‘Who was he?’

  Hartley gestured for her to sit on the bench in the middle of the room. She sat next to him. He took her hands. ‘We were pulling him in on your evidence.’

  ‘That was quick.’

  He nodded. ‘When Mac and Ben and I were looking over the evidence board earlier, Mac remembered seeing a guy with that hair colour coming out of the Springs Motel the other day as he was doing his patrol. Luck was on our side, because the idiot was still there. We got his name from the clerk—Tom Johnson—and ran his record. He’d been involved with the bikie gangs in Sydney with ties to drugs. He’d also been a suspect in a murder case but there wasn’t enough evidence to stick. He seemed a good match, especially given the colour of his hair. Mac and I were bringing him in for questioning when this bikie came flying up the street, stopped in front of us, and unloaded a clip into our suspect.’

  Erika’s fingers clenched at her sides. ‘It’s a wonder you didn’t get hurt.’

  ‘He wasn’t aiming at us.’

  Erika stared at him for a moment, at the strange smile on his face. ‘That’s not funny.’

  ‘I didn’t mean it to be. He didn’t even look at us. Didn’t seem to care we were there. It was virtually point blank range. We didn’t even have time to duck for cover or get in front of the suspect it all happened so quickly.’

  ‘Did you get a license plate?’

  ‘Only a partial. Ben’s running it now with the make—a Kawasaki Ninja, but we’re not hopeful.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Do you know how many black Kawasaki Ninjas there are out there on the road? It’s one of the most popular road bikes in Australia and I can think of at least fifty people who own them in town.’

  ‘There would have to be blood splatter on it if he was that close.’

  ‘He was.’ He crooked a smile at her. ‘I thought you’d be upset our one lead is now dead.’

  ‘He wasn’t our only lead. There’s more coming. I might find more when I do the post-mortem on Mr Johnson. Don’t lose hope.’

  ‘I won’t. We’ve got you.’ His gaze ran over her and the frown on his face deepened. ‘Something’s changed.’ He stepped closer again, his warmth, his proximity, making her hairs stand on end, her skin prickle.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I went to see Mabel.’

  ‘Ah.’ His frown deepened into worry and he reached out to touch her, but then pulled his hand back. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Better than okay.’

  ‘She didn’t say anything horrible?’

  She snorted. ‘Oh, she said something horrible. Many things that were horrible, in fact. She was the one who told everyone my mother was a drug addict and caused the accident. She told me I reminded her of my mother and that’s why she hated me from the start. I never stood a chance. I was too much my mother’s daughter. She even called me Timnah. She’s a bigoted hateful woman. And insane. I think she always was.’

  ‘And you’re okay?’

  ‘Yes.’ The answer was slow. ‘I’d never realised why she hated me and it was…liberating. My mother was brilliant and loving and caring and I am just like her. I never realised.’ She swallowed. Hard. Now that the moment was here, she was reluctant to tell him. Not because she was a coward—she was frightened, but that was okay. She was allowed to be. No, it was because she didn’t want to tell him here. In the empty locker room, the scent of old sweat and fresh soap heavy in the air, grey paint peeling off the cornices. But it was now or never. With everything going on, she mig
ht not have another chance to get him alone for days. Now or never.

  Now.

  ‘My mother was everything I am, but she was more. I want to be more.’ He didn’t say anything, but the aching hope in his eyes spurred her on. ‘I never realised why I closed myself off from life until I saw Mabel. I thought it was because I couldn’t feel. The accident was the catalyst, but Mabel’s words, her actions, bearing down on me every day, became my reality. My parents had left me—’

  ‘They died.’

  ‘I know, but it felt like I was abandoned, especially because they’d left me with Mabel, who they knew didn’t like me. I thought it was a sign that what Mabel said was true. That I wasn’t deserving of love. That I never had been.’

  ‘Shit, Erika, that’s not—’

  She raised her hand to his lips. ‘No, please, let me finish.’ His warm lips brushed against her fingertips as he nodded. For a moment, she forgot what she was saying. His nearness, his warmth, his touch, it was unnerving. And essential. But she had to finish explaining before she gave in to her need for him. Sucking in a breath, she started again. ‘I forgot how my parents loved me, overlooked the love of those around me, all because Mabel didn’t love me. I let her drive away the truth simply because she should have loved me but didn’t. I made myself into what she said I was and even after I ran away, I continued to do that. It was foolish. Stupid in the extreme.’

  ‘You were a little girl. You’d lost your parents. That bitch should have been there for you.’

  ‘Yes. She should. She wasn’t, and because of that, because of her, I have let my hatred, resentment and fear rule me for too long. I thought I had moved on from her, but running away isn’t moving on. I ended up with a good life, but at heart, it’s empty. Because I’m empty. And I deserve so much more.’

  He reached out, touched her face, fingers lingering on her cheek. ‘You deserve the best of everything.’

  ‘Yes.’ She leaned into his caress. ‘I do.’ She looked up at him, trying to put in her gaze everything that was in his—that way he had of looking at her like there was nothing else in his world as important as her. Inside her, the thing that had loosened, that same thing that had been tightly furled and long guarded since the night her parents died, opened further, began to bloom under the steadiness of his green gaze. ‘I deserve love. I deserve to love and be loved. I deserve to be with someone who feels about me the same way I feel about him. I deserve you.’