by Juanita Kees
Loki lay pining outside the door of the spare room, offering up the occasional doggy groan of despair. He’d even lost interest in washing dishes.
Harley understood. He’d lost interest in eating despite the tempting smell of the freshly made casserole Annie Hamilton had delivered this morning and the home-baked bread her mother had sent to compliment it.
Maybe he could hang out at the hardware store with Mal and Ahn, find out how well they’d known Mai since Ahn had been the closest to her. Do some research and trace the whereabouts of Mai’s family village in case Tameka wanted to find them.
He could visit Ryan and tell him that his killer was being brought to justice, maybe find peace in his own heart for letting Ryan go to the shed that day.
He’d wanted to go to Perth for the hearing, but the demands of the farm and the delay in his application for a hardship grant meant he had to stay and manage the fallout. Look to the future of Bakers Hill for his father’s sake. Make a haven for Tameka to come home to, if she wanted to, when she was ready.
He picked up a pencil from the stubby holder on his desk and began to sketch the idea forming in his mind.
***
The hits just kept coming. Five counts of murder. Tameka sat in the courtroom and listened numbly as the arguments and evidence against Louis piled up. She couldn’t call him her father. Not since he’d confessed that she wasn’t his blood. Mai had already been pregnant when he’d abducted her from the streets of Ho Chi Minh City’s red light district.
She had no right to Golden Acres at all because it was stolen property. She was officially homeless. Out of luck, out of love and out of money. Not to mention out of her depth in this big city with its towering buildings and busy streets where she had no hope of finding employment because all she knew was how to get her hands dirty on the land.
Today was the day the judge would hand down Louis’ sentence. Tameka thanked whatever god had allowed the case to hit top priority on the list in the normally sluggish justice system, a two-year wait for a trial not unheard of with a shortage in the ratio of judges to courtrooms.
His lawyer had advised him to change his plea to guilty and the jury had been dismissed. How could he not be guilty when he’d confessed to the whole mess under questioning, some of the evidence had turned the judge’s face white with shock. Louis could face a maximum sentence of life imprisonment, and if the judge had mercy on the community, it would be without parole.
She didn’t even have the money to give her mother a decent burial when the case was closed and her remains were released from evidence.
And damn it, her heart was breaking because she’d have to leave Harley and Loki behind. What man would want to be saddled with a woman who’d witnessed the murder of his brother and said nothing?
He wouldn’t want the physically and emotionally scarred illegitimate daughter of a Vietnamese prostitute as his wife. The town of Wongan Creek, with all its problems, wouldn’t want her kind of mix in their gene pool. Lovely people like Heather Bailey wouldn’t want to be her friend, and Mal and Ahn would never serve her in their shop again, even with Harry running interference.
She thought of Casey’s artwork tucked into the pocket of her jacket in the spare room at Bakers Hill, the freedom those butterflies represented. She’d glimpsed that Utopia for a short while, embraced it with Harley one last time, but like the picture she’d left behind, she’d have to abandon her dreams for reality and live a new kind of hell in a different prison.
She’d have to pull up her ugly, brown-striped, donated panties, be a big girl and toughen up on the streets of Perth. Maybe someone in Northbridge would give her a break and a job waitressing.
The room she had at the YWCA would have to do for a while longer, but they’d already said it was only temporary if she couldn’t pay the long-term resident’s fee.
Behind her, the door to the courtroom opened and closed. Another reporter, another curious citizen. But it wasn’t a reporter who slipped into the seat beside her.
Shirley Baker’s warm hand covered her cold one. ‘Hello, sweetheart. Tom had to see the heart surgeon. We wanted to check up on you and see how you’re coping,’ she whispered.
Tameka blinked back the unexpected sting of tears. She couldn’t allow herself to crumble when she had to be strong to stand alone. ‘I’m fine, thank you.’
The judge adjourned to make his decision on the sentence to be handed down and the courtroom cleared as Louis was taken from the dock.
‘Come downstairs and have a coffee with us. We’ll stay with you for the sentencing.’
‘That’s really not necessary, Shirley, but thank you.’
Tom touched her shoulder. ‘Not necessary, no. But we’d like to talk to you, love.’
Tameka didn’t want to talk. Not about Louis, or Ryan or Harley. That the Bakers were even here blew her away. Surprised her, because surely they’d never want to see the Chalmers family again. How could they not be angry, upset and revengeful over the truth about the way their son had died?
They had to be. God knows, she was angry herself. Angry that she hadn’t done more to stop Ryan from going up to the shed at all. Angry for not being old enough or strong enough to stop any of this madness from happening.
Shirley sighed, hooked an arm through hers and coaxed her towards the bank of elevators. ‘You’re probably thinking all this is your fault. Well, it’s not.’ She pressed the down arrow on the panel on the wall. ‘You didn’t put the padlock on that door, sweetheart.’
‘No, but I might as well have.’ Tameka looked at Shirley. Yes, Harley’s mum was upset. The glimmer of tears and dark circles under her eyes said she hadn’t had much sleep since their life imploded either.
‘I’m so sorry. I wish …’
Shirley squeezed her arm as the elevator doors opened. ‘We all wish we could turn back the clock and change things, bring Ryan back, but we can’t. A conviction, a sentence, nothing can undo the harm that’s been done. We want to remember Ryan and Mai the way they were before. It happened and now the man responsible will pay his penance. Justice is served for Ryan. And for Mai. It’s enough. And Louis will stand trial again for Ryan’s murder and the others. I’m angry, yes, but not at you. My regret, sweetheart, is that you’ve had to suffer through what you have alone.’
They stepped inside the elevator and the doors swished closed. Tameka leant her head back against the cool, steel-sheeted walls, the tension headache that had seized her on the day of Louis’ arrest and not let go pounding behind her eyes.
No, nothing would bring Ryan back, and the nightmare would fade, but the fallout would reverberate through Wongan Creek for years to come.
She could never return and find happiness with Harley. Not after all this. He was better off finding someone else. A girl like Annie who was worthy of the respect of the town.
‘It’s not even a comfort knowing he’s not my real father.’ Her words echoed around the steel car. ‘He’s the only father I’ve known.’
And her mother would still be alive if she’d never met him that night in Ho Chi Minh City. Ryan and those poor girls in Cook’s Harbour would still be alive. And she’d never have met Harley, the man who owned her heart, body and soul.
‘Harley misses you, sweetheart. He wanted to come but this business with the bank and the National Farmers’ Federation has him tied to the farm. Please come home when this is over?’
‘I can’t, Shirley. I don’t belong in Wongan Creek or on Bakers Hill. I don’t know where I belong.’
‘You belong with us, Tameka. There’ll always be a place at our table for you. We don’t hold a grudge against you for what Louis did. He hurt you as much as he hurt us. Your mum would want us to take care of you. I wish you could have come to us for help sooner so it didn’t have to come to this.’ Shirley took Tameka’s hand in hers.
Wouldn’t that be nice? To belong to a real family again. To come home to warm and loving arms after a long day out in the fields. To be a part of a
nurturing environment, something neither she nor her mum had ever had. But that was a pipedream when her every step in life had been shaped by a murderer. When she would always be known as Louis Chalmers’ daughter, even when she wasn’t his blood.
‘Do you remember, sweetheart, how after Ryan died you and Harley were inseparable? The two of you always had such a strong bond, but it grew even stronger. Don’t throw that kind of love away because you think you don’t deserve it.’ Shirley patted Tameka’s hand and squeezed her fingers. ‘If it wasn’t for you, he would have struggled even more to get over Ryan’s death. Let him help you over this hurdle. You two belong together. We’ve always known that.’
‘I need time to work it all out.’ Time and distance to process thoughts that would drive her to the edge of reason trying to understand. To dig out of the hole she’d been buried in forever, and to take that step towards freedom when she’d been a prisoner to guilt for so long.
‘Then take all the time you need. The door will still be open at Bakers Hill. Wongan Creek will still be there. There’s talk in town of new ventures, better prospects other than the gold mine. It seems like exactly the right time to be building new relationships or rekindling old ones.’
The doors swished open and they stepped out of the elevator towards the coffee shop.
Tom put his arm around Tameka’s shoulders. ‘You’ll always be family to us, Tameka. I mean, how could you not be, for God’s sake? My wife bought you sexy underwear to model for our son, that’s practically a marriage proposal.’
Tameka couldn’t stop the laugh that built in her throat as she hugged Tom hard. Maybe she did have a real dad after all, but first she needed to deal with a killer and lay a ghost to rest.
Three days later the gates clanged shut behind Tameka on the visitor’s cell at Casuarina’s maximum security prison facility.
At the square table bolted to the floor, Louis Chalmers sat handcuffed, dressed in orange prison overalls that leeched the colour from his skin.
She didn’t see her father. She saw a murderous monster wearing the battle scars of a drinking problem and a mental health issue. The prison psychologists would have a field day mapping out his mind. What drove a man to murder other than insanity?
He didn’t speak, only stared at her as if she were a stranger rather than the person who’d cooked his meals, washed his laundry, farmed land that wasn’t his and felt the full force of his wrath.
‘Why?’ She didn’t sit in the chair opposite the thick glass barrier that separated them. She didn’t want to come down to his level where he could control her ever again.
He leant back in the chair, no longer the big, scary man he’d been, diminished by the legal system and at the mercy of inmates who had no patience for child killers.
He didn’t pretend not to know what she was asking. ‘She was useless to me. She told me you were a boy. I needed a boy.’ He leant forward, his eyes dark and mean. ‘She gave me a girl. Always girls. The other one was the same.’
‘So you killed them? All of them.’
‘Yes. It’s what you do when a mare doesn’t breed. You slaughter it.’
Tameka swallowed the bitter taste on her tongue. He wasn’t human. But deep down, she’d always known that. Yet she’d stayed on the farm to protect him, to stop him shooting himself. Only now she knew it wasn’t suicide he’d been planning.
‘And Ryan?’
‘Little shit was sniffing around where he didn’t need to be. Didn’t seem fair that Baker had a healthy wife and two sons, and I had nothing. If the other boy had taken the lure, they’d both be dead.’
Tameka shivered. How close had Harley been to death too? ‘What did it matter that I wasn’t a boy? I worked like one.’
‘You really are a stupid girl, aren’t you? I should have finished the job properly instead of leaving you to burn. Fed you to Baker’s pigs instead.’
She tried not to let it hurt, tried not to feel disgusted by his lack of regret for his actions. This was on him, not her. This insane hang up with fathering a son and failing at it didn’t make sense. Perhaps he really was insane and reason didn’t factor in his head at all.
‘A man isn’t a man until he’s sired a son. My stepfather beat that into me any which way he could and then he left me with the lying, cheating bitch who gave birth to me. So I killed her and then I went looking for him. He’d found another vessel to produce a son he could be proud of.’ He leant forward and gripped his cuffed hands together on the table, self-satisfaction glowing in his eyes. ‘I watched the house burn. You have no idea the power fire gives a man. To kill, destroy. To eliminate the cause of your pain.’
Jesus, he really was crazy. A pyromaniac serial killer she’d shared a home with for twenty-seven years. A man with an agenda and a twisted mind. That she’d survived at all was a miracle. That he’d waited so long after Ryan and her mother’s death to strike again incomprehensible.
The tiny, clinical room closed in on her as she turned away from the man she’d once called her father. She had the answers she’d come for and now the urge escalated to leave, to escape the poisoned mind in the room. With one last look at the monster who’d taken her life hostage and whom she wouldn’t let control her anymore, she left to arrange her mother’s burial. No cremation. There’d been enough destruction by fire.
Chapter 24
He’d seen her walk up from the dam, across the field of wilted and forgotten barley on the land the Chalmers no longer owned. Had never lawfully owned. He’d tried to keep his heart in his chest but he suspected it was beating away on his sleeve for everyone to see, as it had been since she left.
‘Still perfecting the rinse cycle?’ Tameka hitched her backpack higher on her shoulder as she approached and watched Loki lick Harley’s plate clean.
She’d lost weight she couldn’t afford to lose, and her features were pale and drawn. It broke his heart to see her this way. If she stayed, he’d fix that. ‘Loki’s a pro at dishes now. One day soon he’ll be standing at the sink with dish liquid and a sponge in his paws.’
Loki barked his agreement before bolting over to Tameka and nudging her hand for an ear scratch.
‘He’s calmed down a lot.’
Harley grimaced. ‘We’ve had a lot of time on our hands to practice obedience and manners. How’d things go in Perth?’
He’d heard it on the news. Louis Chalmers had changed his plea to guilty and been detained without bail on five counts of murder. The judge had delivered a sentence of life imprisonment without parole, sparing no mercy and making it almost impossible to appeal.
‘It’s over. That’s all that counts.’
‘So what now?’
Tameka shrugged. ‘I’ve come to say goodbye, I guess.’
‘Such an overrated word. The National Farmers Federation has overturned the application for compensation given that the issue of spray drift is no longer a danger to the crops. All proposed action has been withdrawn. You’re free of blame, Tikki. Do you really want to leave?’ He didn’t want her to go. There was finally some hope of a future for everyone in Wongan Creek. If she didn’t want a future with him, maybe she’d stick around town so he could make sure she was safe. ‘Ninety percent of us have had our hardship grants approved to allow our crops time to recover. The other ten percent have sold out to John Bannister. Mostly those with property bordering the mine to allow for expansion.’
‘I’m not sure I can stay, Harley. Too many ghosts. Too many questions and fingers to be pointed. A change of town, new people … maybe it will be different. I have to try. But I couldn’t leave without explaining it all to you first.’
Harley rubbed a hand over Loki’s head. ‘Leave? I didn’t figure you for a coward, Tikki.’
‘You didn’t figure me being the daughter of a killer either.’
‘But you’re not, are you?’
‘No, but I am the daughter of a prostitute and I’ll never know who my real father is.’ She toed the ground with her boot.
> ‘I fell in love with a girl like that once. Still love her. I wonder where she is now. She was such a brave girl. Mouthy, stubborn, built tough.’ Harley stood and walked down the verandah steps, his hands itching to touch her. He pushed them into the pockets of his jeans. ‘Her name was Tikki and she was my best friend.’
‘She’s gone, Harley. Maybe she never existed. Maybe she was always a fake.’
‘I disagree. There was nothing fake about what we had between us.’ Harley stood close and placed his hand next to hers until they touched on Loki’s collar. ‘Why didn’t you come to me for help?’
‘I couldn’t.’
‘Why not?’
Tameka shivered. ‘Because I was afraid.’
‘Of what?’
‘Of having to admit that big, strong, independent Tameka Chalmers could fix a bloody ute, manhandle a seeder box and sow a God damn field of barley single-handedly, but she was afraid to leave a father who didn’t deserve the title.’
‘Why didn’t you leave?’ He wished he understood what had kept her there, what had made her subject herself to the denigration and humiliation day after day when she could have walked away through the gate onto Bakers Hill at any time.
‘And right there is the question I’m so afraid of people asking, Harley. The one everyone asks regardless, but never really understands the answer to. “Why didn’t you just walk away, Tameka?” Like it’s so easy to turn around and say, “Hey, I’m not taking your crap anymore, old man” and walk out the door as if there’d be no consequences, no fallout, no harm or foul and no-one would get hurt. If only it were that easy.’
She turned away from him to face the rolling fields of Golden Acres where all her hard work had turned brown and wilted. Harley wanted to reach for her, hold her while she told her story, but he knew if he did she’d shut down on him and those secrets would fester inside her forever.
He’d done his research, read the reasons victims stayed in abusive relationships or felt a misguided loyalty to abusive parents. He understood that until Tameka could voice her fears and talk about the last eight years, she’d never begin to heal. So he stood in silence and let her talk, even though it was Loki she told her story to, not him.