by Sarah Barrie
Hands trembling, she picked it up and unfolded it.
YOU LOOK SO SAD, ANGEL. WE’LL BE TOGETHER SOON. THE MESSAGES ARE JUST FOR YOU AND ME. FORGET THE OTHERS. OR I’LL KILL THEM JUST LIKE I KILLED BEAU.
A paralysing fear rocketed through her. She read it again, a third time. Kill who? Like Beau? No. No…Hal had someone or other playing a nasty prank. And it had to be a prank, because the simple fact that the note was left on her table meant that if the creep had really wanted to hurt her, he could have. A shiver slid down her spine at the thought of someone being in her house again. But he hadn’t threatened to hurt her, had he? Just ‘the others’.
She picked up the phone, called Harry and got the answering machine. Damn. It was almost seven. She hung up, lifted the phone again to call his house and saw Madi’s car coming along her driveway.
Dropping the phone again, Jordan blew out a breath. She wasn’t really surprised. Twenty-four hours was about as long as her friend had ever managed to hold a grudge against her, and Jordan had an apology to make.
She’d call Harry later.
‘You should have come to see me,’ Madi scolded as she came through the door a minute later. ‘You were the one playing bitch.’
Jordan flopped onto a chair and nodded. ‘I know. I’m sorry. You caught me at a bad moment.’
Madi levelled her a hard stare. ‘So?’
Jordan grimaced. ‘Hangover — bourbon pity party. And never again.’
‘Reid said you looked sick.’
‘You spoke to Reid?’
‘He called in at work with some blonde…’ Madi went white and Jordan almost laughed.
‘Counsellor Barbie. He brought her here. Didn’t he tell you?’
‘As if I would speak to him!’ she objected loyally. ‘He talked to Dad, made him promise to call if, well…’
‘He wants Joel to spy on me? Sounds about right.’ Jordan’s fingernails bit into her palms as she screwed her hands into fists. ‘I told him it was over, I told him to leave me the hell alone. What are you doing?’
‘Making tea. I want to hear this from the beginning.’
As Madi went about filling the kettle and preparing the mugs, Jordan filled her in.
‘So that’s really it? It’s really over?’ Madi asked a minute later.
‘He won’t believe me,’ Jordan said. ‘And it hurt, and so did the hangover, and that woman was here and I was so, so horrible. The things I said…’
‘I don’t blame you.’
She opened her mouth to tell Madi about her latest note. Closed it again. The words in the message, the threat, had her on edge. No, she’d have that quiet word with Harry first thing in the morning in his office. She wouldn’t involve Madi, not yet. Just in case.
Madi handed Jordan a mug and sat next to her. ‘I won’t suggest we get drunk because, well, bourbon, but what about a dumb DVD or two?’
‘Sure just…no romantic comedies, Madi.’
Madi’s eyes stirred with fun. ‘I was thinking more along the lines of Misery.’
Jordan smiled for the first time in days. ‘This is why you’re my best friend. Did you bring it?’
‘I surely did. Make us popcorn.’
It was late when Jordan’s mobile woke her from a deep sleep. She caught sight of the time as she fumbled for it: 3.22 a.m. Who? Matt, the screen told her, and she answered in confusion.
‘Matt?’ she croaked, ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Is Madi there?’
‘Madi?’ she asked in confusion. ‘No, she left hours ago. She’s not home?’
‘She never got here. She’s not answering her phone.’ The same panic that was quickly settling in Jordan’s stomach was evident in Matt’s voice. ‘I went to sleep waiting up for her and something woke me up and she wasn’t here.’
‘Have you tried Joel and Carol?’ Jordan was already pulling on clothes as she talked.
‘No. I’ll…what if —’
‘I’m going now. Call Joel, check, let me know. I’m out the door, Matt. We’ll find her.’
Jordan headed down the road as quickly as she dared. Maybe Madi had broken down — there were plenty of areas on this road with little or no mobile phone coverage. She could be waiting it out until morning, waiting for someone to find her.
‘Please God, please God, please God,’ she murmured over and over in the quiet car.
She was halfway to Matt’s place when she drove over a rise and onto a straight. She saw Madi’s wrecked car seconds before Matt’s car approached from the opposite direction. Both cars hit their brakes, both drivers hit the road at a run.
‘Madi!’ Jordan screamed in panic, desperately hoping for some reply. Matt reached the wrecked car just before she did.
‘She’s breathing.’ Jordan saw Matt somehow manage to pull open the compacted door and reach for her.
‘Don’t move her!’ Jordan instructed. ‘We need an ambulance. My phone.’
Jordan sprinted back to her car and made the call through a torrent of petrified tears. Matt was talking to Madi, trying to get her to wake up, the desperation and fear written all over him.
‘They’re coming,’ she told him, wrapping her arms around herself. ‘Just keep an eye on her breathing. I’ll get the first aid kit, and we’ll get her warm, make up a neck brace in case we have to move her, keep talking to her. She’ll be okay, Matt. She has to be okay.’
‘Her injuries are serious, but I’m cautiously optimistic she’ll make a full recovery.’
The emergency doctor gave them the news and Jordan’s eyes closed in relief, a long sigh escaping her lips. None of them had left the hospital, none had slept and few words had been spoken since they’d arrived several hours earlier. Now, as relief flooded through the group, a heavy tension lifted.
As the doctor continued to fill Joel and Carol in, Jordan walked up behind Matt to look through the glass window of Madi’s intensive care room.
‘She’s going to be okay,’ she whispered, trying to banish the fears brought on by seeing her best friend lying unconscious in that white bed, tubes and wires and machines unnaturally tumbling around her pale, bruised body.
Matt turned, hugged Jordan hard, and released a long, shaky breath. Jordan hugged him back, closed her eyes and said a silent prayer of gratitude. ‘Go sit with Madi,’ she suggested, ‘while I get you a coffee.’
As Jordan returned with two styrofoam cups, she noticed Harry had arrived and was talking to Joel and Carol. He nodded, patted Joel on the back and gave Carol a hug, then headed off again.
‘What did he say?’ she asked quietly.
Joel rubbed his hands over his face in exhaustion. ‘Skid marks suggest another car was involved. Looks like it crossed right over onto the wrong side of the road — came straight at her.’
‘Oh my God…’ She searched Joel’s features to see if it had occurred to him. ‘Just like…’ the accident.
He lifted two hands in the air, in a ‘hold on’ gesture. ‘There was another one of those rave parties going on over at the Grainger place. Harry’s guessing one of the participants probably had a few too many and decided to drive home.’
Jordan absorbed the information, wondered why everything was suddenly going wrong: the drugs, the notes, Madi’s accident.
Something inside her clicked. The note.
Forget them or I’ll kill them…As realisation struck, the room spun out of focus. She swayed. No, it couldn’t be. It was just an accident. Another accident, eerily similar. Hal.
‘Jordy?’
‘I have to go,’ she whispered. ‘This is my fault, I have to go.’
‘Hold up,’ Joel grabbed her arm and looked her dead in the eyes. ‘How is this your fault? What did you do?’ An edge had crept into his voice that she didn’t understand.
‘Do?’
‘Were there drugs involved, Jordy? Tell me you didn’t give Madi anything.’
‘Drugs?’
Joel’s fingers on her arm dug in viciously. ‘Tell me!’
<
br /> ‘Joel!’ Carol’s voice behind them was hushed, stern. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Well?’ Joel snapped. ‘If I find out you and your drug habit have somehow caused my daughter to be in this state, I’ll…’
‘What?’ Jordan asked, shocked to the core and hurt beyond words.
‘Joel, why would you say something so horrible?’ Carol asked, horrified.
‘She said it was her fault.’ Joel’s eyes never left Jordan’s. ‘And now I’d like an explanation.’
‘Jordy?’ Carol echoed. ‘What’s this about?’
‘She was visiting me. If she hadn’t been…’ Jordan looked from one to the other. ‘You really believe I…oh, God, who are you?’ Jordan broke off and headed down the corridor at a run.
She went home, intent on taking the note straight to Harry. They needed to find who was doing this and make him pay. Exhausted, hurt, angry, she stormed out of her car toward the kitchen. Mack barked and scratched at the door, and she realised she’d left him in the house in her hurry to leave.
A new note sat on her doormat.
I WARNED YOU. TELL ANYONE ELSE, THEY’RE DEAD.
Jordan stumbled inside, leaned against the wall and stared at it in horror. She hadn’t told Madi anything! Slowly, her legs gave way and she slid slowly to the floor, her heart hammering in her chest.
Mack nudged his head under her elbow and she stroked him. ‘He didn’t come in because you were inside. You’re staying inside, Mack. Stuff the furniture.’
What was she going to do? What could she do? She couldn’t risk anyone else getting hurt. Unsteadily, Jordan got to her feet and checked the house was locked up. There was no point fooling herself into thinking whoever was doing this was making idle threats. She needed to figure this out. And she was on her own until she did.
CHAPTER
18
Reid personally arrested the man he’d been hunting for three and a half years in broad daylight, on a busy dock on Sydney Harbour. Everything had gone to plan. The arrest was smooth — though someone had managed to alert the media and cameras flashed in his face as he escorted the well-known public figure from the wharf while his men cleaned up. He should have been ecstatic, over the moon, ready for a major celebration. He couldn’t have cared less.
Brett gave him a pat on the back as they arrived at the police car where Rita was leaning against the hood, waiting patiently. ‘Lucky you’re not planning on going undercover anymore, Easton. Your pretty picture’s going to be all over the front of the newspaper.’ She pushed off and opened the door before assisting the man into the back seat. ‘I’ll see you guys at Murphy’s,’ she continued with a wave.
‘Eight o’clock,’ Brett confirmed and climbed into the car with Reid. He looked at his friend and grinned. ‘When Rita’s ready to celebrate, you know you’ve done good.’
‘You got plans to head to the bar?’ Reid asked.
‘Yeah, and you’re in them. The whole team will be there. This is non-negotiable.’
Reid rubbed a hand along the back of his neck and nearly refused. At least the bar — Murphy’s — was low-key, a popular hang-out with his team. ‘I’ll come for a while.’
‘Geez buddy, control your enthusiasm. I can’t help but wonder if you’ve missed the part where you’ve just wrapped up the biggest investigation of your life.’
‘Yeah. It’s great.’
‘Uh huh. Why don’t you just go see her?’
‘What?’
‘Not what, who. Jordan.’
‘Yeah, I’m planning on it.’
He’d been hoping to get his guy processed, get a bag packed. He hadn’t seen Jordan for two weeks, and she’d been on his mind every damn minute. He’d walked away to save himself the worry and the pain. And all he’d done was worry about her; all he’d done was hurt. It had been selfish and cowardly and it was going to stop. Whether Jordan wanted his help or not, she was getting it. Somehow he’d make her listen.
And if there was any chance of salvaging their relationship while he was at it, he was taking it.
Jordan sat at her kitchen table and stared unseeingly at her latest note. It sat open on the table as the words played in her head.
YOUR LAST NIGHT ON EARTH WILL BE MEMORABLE, ANGEL. YOU’LL BE BREATHLESS FOR ME. THEN I’LL SQUEEZE THE LIFE FROM YOU. AND YOU’LL JUST BE BREATHLESS.
So what? she wondered bitterly. What could possibly be worse than this waiting?
In the first week after the accident she’d been sure she could catch out who it was. Her anger at Madi’s accident had driven her through each long night, given her the courage to want to face him herself. But no matter how little sleep she got, every few days a new note appeared, and she saw no one.
The first week dragged into two, and the longer she went without sleep, the harder it became to think rationally. And the notes got more threatening. She was frightened, began to question herself and considered going to Harry. But the notes warned her repeatedly not to tell anyone, so she kept putting it off. Every time she lost her nerve and picked up the phone, she thought about Madi lying in that hospital bed. Would he hurt her again? Would he go after Joel? After Carol? She couldn’t deal with it if she caused something to happen to anyone else.
She missed Reid almost unbearably, but the image of him lying in a ditch like Beau or in a wrecked car like Madi was too terrible to contemplate — even if he would come back.
So she isolated herself from everyone, stone-walling the few visitors she got, putting off work and going through the routine, nighttime vigil with her rifle and her dog, ready at any moment for her phantom visitor to turn up. Other than a few phone calls to the hospital, she barely spoke to anyone. And before she realised what was happening, the isolation, the fear and the exhaustion became routine.
It occurred to her from time to time that this was exactly what the freak wanted — for her to separate herself from everyone — but she didn’t know what else to do. All she could hope was that she’d catch sight of him, so she’d know who it was. Then she’d tell Harry. Because then Harry could end this before he had a chance to hurt anyone else. But the thought of coming face-to-face with this phantom frightened her more than she wanted to admit.
Just to prove to herself that she could, she went out into the yard and took a deep breath.
‘I dare you, you bastard! You gutless, letter-writing freak!’ she screamed at the top of her lungs. ‘Come get me!’
On the mountain, he giggled, thrilled with her. ‘Oh, I’ll be there, angel, not long now.’
It was getting close. He could feel his excitement building. The notes had been a good idea. It amused him, just as it amused him that she sat up all night thinking she’d catch him. Did she really believe he didn’t know the moment she closed her eyes? Could she really think he wasn’t watching over her every move? She’d called for him. She’d finally invited him in.
He heard a distant bark and frowned. The damn dog was a nuisance. He couldn’t tiptoe around its comings and goings forever. He really needed to take care of it. Permanently.
Jordan replaced the phone and smiled at Mack. ‘They’re letting Madi come home,’ she told him and got a tail thump in response. ‘And she’s well enough to be thoroughly peeved that I haven’t been in to see her.’ Mack wiggled forward and rested his chin on her knee, gave her a big grin. ‘I’m glad I’ve got you, mate.’
She looked at the time — it was getting late. Dinner? She screwed up her nose. She hadn’t eaten a real meal since Madi’s crash. She knew she’d lost weight, that dark circles had permanently moved in under her eyes, just as she knew she couldn’t go on sitting up all night, every night, indefinitely. But what choice did she have?
‘Come on Mack, let’s get ready.’ Jordan grabbed her rifle, locked herself and Mack in her bedroom, and waited.
She didn’t remember closing her eyes, but realised she must have passed out when a strange noise penetrated her sleep. She sat up, immediately alert to the early morning and turned
to see what had woken her. Mack was by the door, heaving and vomiting.
‘What is that…Mack. Mack!’ Panicking, she sprung off the bed.
She knew what rat bait looked like and the green slime in the regurgitated mince terrified her. The dog staggered, lay down, then jumped up again to resume heaving.
‘No, no, no…’ She wrapped her arms around him and lifted him off his feet. ‘Take it easy mate,’ she attempted to soothe as he struggled.
He was heavy and awkward and once in the kitchen she had to put him down again to make a frantic call to Katrina and open the front door. Then he was back in her arms as she moved as fast as she could to the ute.
‘It’ll be okay, you’ll be okay,’ she half crooned, half sobbed, and she started the car. ‘That bastard — that letter-writing bastard! He’s done this. I’ll get him, Mack, just, please, don’t die.’
She swept the tears from her eyes, struggling to concentrate on the road. Mack whined piteously and collapsed on the car seat, his breathing laboured as, even then, the heaving resumed.
She was barely out her front gate when it stopped. Mack’s eyes closed and his breathing quietened. Terrified beyond belief that she’d already lost him, she kept driving, kept going until she reached the surgery. Katrina was waiting and rushed to the car as Jordan pulled up.
‘How is he? Oh…poor boy.’
‘Is he…?’ Jordan couldn’t look, couldn’t breathe.
Katrina did a quick check, her expression grave. ‘He’s still with us, barely. Let’s get him in.’
‘I’ll do it.’ Jordan raced around the car and, with Katrina’s help, rushed Mack inside.
It was four days before Jordan was confident he would make it. She sat in Katrina’s recovery room, Mack’s head in her lap, relieved beyond words at his thumping tail and exuberant licking.
‘He’s a tough boy,’ Katrina commented. ‘He doesn’t give up.’
‘Yeah, he’s a fighter,’ Jordan replied proudly.