A Body Displaced (Lansin Island 2)

by Andrew Butcher

  After edging him until he shook, she gave him release.

  When she stood, Austin said to her, ‘Oh … my …’ and he sighed, half smiling. Then, swiftly, he propped her against the wall. The cold of it ran a shiver down her back. Arching his own back to put her nipples in his mouth, Austin gently bit them and flicked them with his tongue while he slipped his hand down the front of her jeans. He started kissing her neck, and she moaned as his fingers brought back sensations Juliet wondered how she’d coped without. When it was over, she waited with her arms wrapped around his back, enjoying the closeness. For a moment, at least.

  Then she sobered.

  ‘Let me get these clothes dry.’ She composed herself, using the towel to cover her nakedness, and grabbed the wet garments from the floor, before scurrying off to the dryer. The clothes needed washing, ideally, but she felt a need to get Austin back in them. ASAP.

  She found a big robe that wasn’t too feminine and delivered it to Austin, who had completely stripped off his wet jeans and stood in nothing but boxers. ‘Cheers,’ said Austin, and he huffed a laugh at the dressing gown.

  ‘I’ll add these to the dryer.’ Juliet picked up the jeans. She directed Austin to the downstairs living room to wait while she changed into dry clothes.

  Rummaging through her wardrobes, she tried to gain control of herself, noticing how she felt calm, but also flustered somehow. If anyone had told her that her ‘relationship’ with Austin would reach this level by only the third date, she would have been insulted. But now look at her.

  She walked downstairs, wondering what had possessed her. When she entered the living room, the first things she noticed were the empty spaces on the mantelshelf above the fire.

  Quickly, her mind brushed that bitterness aside. It pushed her thoughts towards Austin.

  She looked at him, and things were better.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  NICK ANSWERED THE front door to find his dad standing there. He’d called him earlier to tell him the news. It was the morning after his premonition of Kerra alive in that big, dingy room.

  Shrouded by enormous sycamores and evergreens in the front and back gardens, Nick’s bungalow had a secluded feel—a good thing, mostly, but also suffocating at times.

  John Crystan wore earthy colours that blended in with the trunks and shrubbery lower to the ground. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said, his face sad and troubled.

  ‘Come in.’ Nick gestured. Anger built inside him; people were already acting as if Kerra was dead.

  ‘Are you in danger, Son?’ His dad spoke urgently, fear in his eyes.

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘So it’s not to do with the man who killed your mother?’

  ‘No ... I don’t see how, at least.’

  John started pacing back and forth in the hallway. He stood taller nowadays, and was more expressive than a year ago. He had fair, mousey hair that was starting to grey, his eyes were green, and he looked older than he should have. During the time when his wife’s fate was in question, his posture had slouched and his face had drooped. He’d grown haggard. But after learning the truth, he began to recover some of his former vitality.

  For eight years, John had closed himself off, unable to move on from his wife’s disappearance. Then, six months ago, Nick and his brothers shared the truth with their father; they told him what Aldrich could do with his mind, why Samantha visited Grendel Manor, and how and why she was murdered. They lied about one major thing, though: They told their dad that Tommy had killed Aldrich in self-defence.

  John took the news hard at first. He stayed holed up in his room for almost three weeks, only parting from it for the obvious necessities. He called in sick to work, let his home grow messy, and ignored his sons’ attempts to help.

  Then one day, he emerged from his bedroom a different man. He showered, shaved, dressed presentably, put the house in order, and then went out. He returned with a small apple tree in a pot. Tom called Nick to let him know their dad was acting strangely. When Nick arrived, John finally spoke. ‘Come with me, you three,’ he said to his boys, and marched out to the garden with a spade under one arm and the young tree in his hands.

  Outside, John reached into a pocket and pulled out a bracelet. ‘This was the first gift I ever gave to your mum. On our second date, it was.’ John fondled the silver trinket. ‘She used to wear it all the time, everywhere. Then one day, she lost it. We searched for this bracelet like mad … We even argued over her losing it.’ He laughed at the memory. ‘And now, after all these years, just after you three tell me what happened to her, I find it.

  ‘I’m sorry I’ve hidden away like I have. I guess I always hoped she’d come back. But while I was in my bedroom last night, I heard something rattle and a little thud somewhere in the house. I thought it could have been Tommy, but for some reason I felt I had to get out of bed. I went to my old bedroom, the one your mum and I used to share. You know it’s full of junk now, but still, our old wardrobe is exactly where it was when we were in that room. I felt drawn towards it, so I checked under the wardrobe … and there it was! Now, I’d obviously looked there a thousand times before, when the bracelet originally went missing, and it wasn’t there.’ He shook his head theatrically. Nick hadn’t heard his dad speak this much in years, especially not about his mother. He felt so unnerved that for a second, he wondered who this impostor was.

  ‘I’m not one to believe in these kinds of things, and I’m struggling to believe what you three told me that murderer could do.’ John’s lips became tight, avoiding Aldrich’s name. ‘But I think your mum is watching over us. I think she led me to finding this.’ He held out the bracelet. ‘I think it’s her way of saying she never stopped loving us, and that I should remember that, and also’—he hesitated—‘that I can’t waste the rest of my life afraid to love again.’ He paused and released a light sigh. ‘She wants me to move on.’

  Knowing his mum’s spirit had appeared to Juliet, Nick considered the plausibility of his dad’s theory. Samantha had wanted them to know the truth, and surely not so John would despair for the rest of his years.

  Nick looked at his brothers. Tom’s eyes were red and glistening, and Tommy stood with his arms crossed over his muscular frame, his head hanging down to hide his face. Nick was sure he heard a sad sniffle.

  ‘I want us to plant this apple tree together, and underneath it we’ll bury the bracelet.’ John slipped the bracelet into a little box and put it down on the grass, then in the centre of the garden, he began to dig with the spade. When he was done, he picked up the box and gave it to Nick. ‘I’ve not been the father I should have been.’

  ‘You have, Dad,’ Nick protested. Tom and Tommy echoed him.

  ‘No. I haven’t. But I will be.’

  Nick knelt down to put the box in the hole. He held it tight for a thoughtful moment, then let it go.

  ‘Come on.’ John gestured. ‘Let’s put the tree in together.’

  So they did. Even though a child alone could have lifted it, all the Crystan men took a hold of the tree and placed it in its new home.

  Maybe it was just psychological, but Nick was certain he felt his mum’s presence.

  After the tree was planted, they stood together for a while in silence. Before heading indoors, Nick saw his dad take Tommy to one side and heard him quietly say, ‘Whether it was in self-defence or not, thank you for killing that bastard.’ John tapped Tommy on the back, proudly. ‘If you hadn’t, I would have hunted him down myself … and I wouldn’t have shown as much mercy as you did.’

  Overhearing those words mixed up strong emotions in Nick; he had the chance to kill Aldrich himself … and apparently, doing it would have made his dad proud.

  It was both disturbing and reassuring to learn his morals were so different from his father’s.

  Over the following months, John made an effort to interact more with his sons, his colleagues, and his friends. Every single day, he watered the apple tree in memory of his love.


  Today, though, he paced back and forth. ‘I can’t believe this has happened. It’s, erhh, I, errhhh …’ He shook his head in stiff motions. ‘Tell me, tell me everything again.’

  Seeing his dad so distressed worried Nick. He went through the events in detail. Eventually John put a hand to his forehead and stopped marching about.

  ‘Dad,’ said Nick.

  John was quiet.

  ‘Dad … She’s alive. I know she is.’

  John looked up, giving the most pitiful expression.

  Something moved in Nick, boiling and buzzing inside of him. ‘Dad! She is alive.’ He couldn’t believe the look his dad had given him; after all the years John spent hoping Samantha would return, now it seemed he pitied his son for hoping the same about Kerra.

  Nick’s harsh tone had a sobering effect on his dad. John forced an apologetic expression, his lips pulling tight into his cheeks. ‘I’m sorry, Son. I didn’t mean to … you know? I just know what having false hope is like. It eats away at you.’

  ‘It’s not false hope; I will find her.’

  John took a moment, then said reassuringly, ‘Maybe you will; after all, you found the truth out about your mother.’ He put a hand on Nick’s shoulder. Nick remembered Fin’s attempts to comfort him with small gestures the night before. Why does everyone think touching my shoulder or rubbing my arm will make things better? ‘I just don’t want anything to happen to you.’ His dad smiled. ‘I can’t lose you.’

  ‘I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Nicolas. You need to be careful. You’re a suspect. You’ve been lucky so far that nothing’s led back to you about the manor. But if—’

  ‘Dad … Tom has already given me this talk. I know not to draw attention to myself, but … I have to find her.’

  Then John did something Nick had a lot of respect for: He dropped the subject. ‘Okay. Just don’t do anything stupid.’

  In the kitchen, they discussed why anyone would want to hurt Kerra, who would or could have, and why it had happened at West Edge Country House. Nick had spent the night pondering these things. Had someone followed him to the hotel? Or was it an opportunist who realised Kerra was alone in the room? Was the perpetrator already in there? I didn’t go in with Kerra. Someone could have been hiding inside, waiting.

  Nick kept remembering the curly-haired man.

  After discussing everything to the point of frustration, he said, ‘Well, there’s not much I can do. I believe she’s alive, and I know I’ll find her somehow. But I think I’ll have to wait and see what the police come up with.’

  ‘I’m proud of you, you know?’ said John unexpectedly. ‘I’ve never told you that before, but you’ve turned out a good man. Even without my guidance.’

  John’s newfound (or maybe recently recovered) ability to open up to people made Nick uncomfortable; he kept saying things lately that Nick had been left to assume over the years, like how much his dad loved him and wanted the best for him.

  A stiff smile made its way onto Nick’s face. Remembering Tom’s odd mood the other morning, he asked, ‘How’s Tommy doing?’

  ‘He’s not himself. He doesn’t ever want to talk about you or Tom—ah, where is Tom, actually?’

  ‘He’s spending the day at Michael’s.’

  ‘Tell him I popped by, okay? I miss him around the house.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah … I think Tommy’s annoyed that Tom didn’t tell him he’s, erhh, he, erm, likes men, before he told you.’

  Nick found his dad’s awkwardness amusing. John couldn’t casually say ‘gay’ or ‘homosexual’ without pause. ‘Are you sure Tommy just doesn’t like gay people?’

  John appeared offended by that idea. ‘No, Nicolas. I don’t think he’s like that.’

  ‘Well, whatever the reason, it’s getting to Tom.’

  ‘Tom hasn’t come by to see his brother either,’ John said defensively. ‘They should talk.’

  ‘Tommy ignores him.’

  Nick’s dad expelled a big huff. ‘Well it’s gonna take time then, isn’t it? Just leave them to sort it out between themselves.’

  Just outside the kitchen window, a small Nightingale caught Nick’s attention. John turned to look at the bird too, his expression becoming pensive. He let out a wistful laugh. ‘You probably don’t recall, Nicolas, but your mother used to have an odd relationship with birds.’

  It was strange hearing his dad talk about his mum so easily now. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, sometimes when your mother was distressed, a bird would appear nearby … as if it had sensed her mood. Birds just seemed to have a liking for her, following her about whenever we went new places. I used to tease her by calling her Snow White when we first started dating, but after some time, we just grew accustomed to them.’

  The story made Nick uneasy; he recalled the words that had come from Aldrich’s portal: The seagull, the crow, the sparrow … He shivered. But at the same time, it was nice and vaguely amusing to imagine his mum had some sort of kinship with the animals.

  Unsure where to take the topic, he shrugged with a smile. ‘Mum was lucky she didn’t have to listen to a chorus of them singing every morning, in the very early hours.’ He laughed, and so did his dad. ‘I like the trees surrounding this house, but so do the birds, unfortunately.’

  After a bit more conversation, John left. Nick felt better having seen his father. By now he’d informed all relevant people about the incident at the hotel. Kerra’s family would have spread the news too. Throughout the day he received texts and online messages from school acquaintances he hadn’t spoken to in years, saying things like, ‘I heard what happened, hope you’re okay,’ and, ‘I’m sure Kerra will be found.’ To his annoyance, even people who had openly hated Kerra were getting in touch.

  When he spoke with Mora, she told him he didn’t have to come into work tomorrow and that he could take as much time off as he needed, but Nick insisted on going in. He wanted the distraction. While I figure out a way to find Kerra, and wait for the police to get in touch. He had tried to bring on more visions to see how he would end up in the enormous room where his girlfriend was alive, but nothing came to him.

  Unwelcome memories popped into his head. A house party. He was seventeen. It was back when he’d first dated Kerra. Together they went to the party, and together they spent most of the night. Then, as everyone became intoxicated, Kerra disappeared for a suspiciously long time. Nick, thinking she’d gone to the toilet, gave her the benefit of the doubt, until he realised his friend Alex Campbell was out of sight too. He searched the house. That’s when he walked in on them. Kerra’s legs were wrapped around Alex’s back, whose butt cheeks were tensing, his balls contracting with the final thrust of his climax. It was a potent image of betrayal, burnt indelibly into Nick’s mind. Too distraught to fight, he had stormed out and walked home in the rain. He was such a pushover that he soon forgave Kerra, deluding himself into thinking he deserved it, into believing he was lucky to have her at all. But when she did it again—and again and again—he broke up with her.

  Today the memory haunted him, as if his mind wanted him to hate Kerra. Hating her would be more bearable than grieving her absence.

  He turned on his desktop computer. A laptop had been on his mental wish list for years, but any worth having would cost an arm and a leg. When it eventually loaded, he connected to the Internet and searched for ‘Detective Inspector Anish Talwar.’ Anxiety buzzed through him, as if researching the detective made him guilty somehow, but he dug deeper anyway. Something about Talwar nagged at his instincts.

  Nick’s findings were worrying. Talwar had been in charge of the investigation for the missing child Katie Baker, one of the kids Aldrich had sent through the portal. It was unlikely she’d ever be found.

  Failed case for Talwar.

  The detective had also investigated the disappearance of Marcus Luck, a young boy who’d vanished a couple of years before Samantha Crystan. Nick assumed Marcus wa
s also a victim of the portal.

  Another failed case for Talwar.

  And as if that wasn’t bad enough, the detective was part of the inquiry into Aldrich’s death.

  Your career isn’t looking good, thought Nick, and now he understood the hunger he’d seen in the detective’s eyes: Talwar was desperate. An odd mixture of guilt and responsibility weighed Nick down. Why should I know more about these cases than he does?

  Many times, Nick had wished for a way to let the various parents of the missing children know the truth, but he couldn’t, not without incriminating himself. What would he tell them, anyway? Your child was sent through a portal by you while you were under mind control by a lunatic named Aldrich Grendel, and now that portal is gone, but apparently they are ‘better off’ on that side, so there you go, see you around! … Somehow, he doubted that would bring the parents much peace.

  Tom returned in the evening, and Nick relayed the talk with their dad, suggesting he should visit his twin brother and try to reconcile with him. The response he got was, ‘He’s the one ignoring me.’ Though after some persuasion, Tom finally said, ‘Okay. I’ll go over to see Dad nearer to the weekend, and if Tommy’s there and wants to talk to me, then he can.’

  Later on, Fin popped by again to keep Nick company. They talked in the snug, Fin attempting to lighten the mood and pass the time. All evening, though, Nick had the disquieting feeling that someone was watching him.

  After his best friend left, he found sleeping tough; when it finally took him, it dragged him heavy under, but he woke throughout the night, alert and missing Kerra, and struggled to sleep again. The cut above his ear was an itchy and swollen reminder that his girlfriend was out there somewhere, in need of finding.

  In the morning, he drove from the south side of Amiton, over Lynn River, and parked on the outskirts of the town centre. The weather was good, lifting his spirits and giving hope that he’d make his vision come true.

  Walking through the lower grounds, he passed a newsagent and checked the local paper. The story was in there. Nick wasn’t named or shown in photographs, but he was mentioned as ‘the victim’s boyfriend’ throughout the article. Displayed was an image of Kerra he’d never seen before, probably provided by her family, and the paper had blatantly selected this one for effect. It worked. Kerra’s smile in the photo was the most genuine grin Nick had ever seen from her; she looked so innocent, making the story even more horrific than it already was.