Hindsight (9781921997211)

by Casey, Melanie

  When I got to my room, I threw myself on my bed and laid there, letting my anger run its course. Maybe I was just making excuses for myself. I could do something for some of the people I had visions about. Maybe helping to find their killers was my responsibility. Maybe I was actually worse than Mum. Instead of simply misjudging how to help others, I’d been guilty of completely shirking my responsibilities for years. The thought was not a comfortable one. If I’d been given this talent to help people then I’d failed miserably so far.

  I jumped off the bed and walked over to the window. The ocean was a deep azure blue today, dusted by flecks of white where the wind whipped up choppy waves. There had to be a reason why I was given such a god-awful ability. It was time I started trying to find it. Gran was right. I couldn’t let one setback stop me.

  I made a decision. I would go and see Ed. I would try to comfort him and offer whatever help I could with the current case and his wife’s death. I knew Gran and Mum would try to talk me out of going to see him. They would tell me I needed to give him some space. My gut was telling me differently. I needed to go and find him, now.

  It was easier said than done though. The problem with living with your mother and grandmother is that you get to know each other too well. Add the extra level of perceptiveness that comes with all of our talents and you get a situation that makes it virtually impossible to pull the wool over anyone’s eyes. Plus, I wasn’t a good liar at the best of times.

  It was much easier than I’d expected. Gran was out in the garden when I went back downstairs and it was only Mum sitting in the kitchen, looking a bit lost. I instantly felt terrible for being angry with her. I went up to her and gave her a hug.

  ‘Don’t worry, Mum. I’m sure it will be all right.’

  ‘But what about you and your plans?’

  ‘I’ll wait for the dust to settle.’

  She nodded, looking a bit brighter.

  ‘I can’t seem to get into my editing today.’ That much was true. ‘I thought I might head back into town and keep going with the research I started.’

  ‘Great idea! I’ll drop you in,’ she said, standing up.

  ‘No, I’d really like to drive myself.’ I held my breath waiting for her reaction. She looked at me steadily for a few seconds before replying.

  ‘All right, if you think it will be OK.’

  I tried to mask my surprise. I was ready for her to hurl all sorts of arguments at me about how dangerous it might be if I had a vision while I was driving.

  ‘I think it will be. I only stopped driving as a precaution. I’ve never actually had a vision in a moving car.’ Only in a parked one at the lookout with Michael Jenkins.

  ‘How were you yesterday in the car with Natalia?’

  ‘No problems at all.’

  ‘Well it should be OK, then, especially since you’re only going as far as town.’

  She gave me a very direct look as she said this and I wondered if she suspected that I was up to something, but she didn’t say anything. I think she was still feeling bad about mucking up my plans with Ed.

  ‘I think I’ll make a day of it if you don’t need the car?’

  ‘Gran and I don’t have any plans.’

  ‘I’ll see you tonight then.’

  I grabbed the keys and my handbag, gave her a peck on the cheek and went off in search of Gran. I found her in the conservatory, re-potting some plants.

  ‘I’m off into town to do some research, Gran.’

  ‘Are you? Is Anita going too? I thought she was going to help me harvest and dry some herbs today.’

  ‘I’m going to drive myself.’

  She looked up at me, ‘You be careful, Cass.’

  I knew she meant more than the driving. I hurried over and gave her a quick hug before walking around to the garage and getting into the car. My stomach was in knots and I could feel my pulse racing. It’d been a very long time since I’d driven anywhere. Hell, who was I kidding? I couldn’t even remember the last time I had gone anywhere by myself unless it was just a walk to get some fresh air. When Shadow was around I didn’t even get to go to the toilet by myself.

  I started the car and reversed gingerly out of our driveway and then I was off. As I got further from home my nervousness was replaced by exhilaration. I turned the radio on, switching from Mum’s favourite talkback to the music station I listened to. I cranked it up and rolled the window down, enjoying the icy breeze on my face and how good it felt to be out and about, by myself, doing something as normal as driving.

  The bubble burst when I reached the turn-off for Fairfield. Why I was doing this came back into focus. The tension got worse the closer I got to town.

  I was in a state by the time I managed to find my way through the back streets, trying to remember the way to Ed Dyson’s house. As I pulled up out the front, I felt a mixture of relief that I’d found it and dread at how he might respond to my invading his privacy.

  I jumped out of the car before I could have any second thoughts and strode up the pathway. I gave the old-fashioned brass bell a quick ring and waited. No answer. I rang again; still no signs of life from within. I walked over to the bay window and peered inside. I could see the lounge room and a doorway through to what was either the kitchen or dining room. There was no sign of anyone. It was too cold to sit on his veranda chairs; I would just have to wait in the car.

  The minutes dragged by. I wondered if maybe he’d gone back to work or if he’d gone somewhere to think. I decided to give it another half an hour before heading back to Jewel Bay and actually going to the library. Wouldn’t that just suck? I would have gone through all the angst of lying to Mum and Gran only to end up doing exactly what I’d told them I was going to do.

  Twenty minutes passed and I was starting to think I would need to leave sooner rather than later. Nature was starting to call in no uncertain terms and the cold wasn’t helping. Just as I was about to chuck it in and start the car, I saw a charcoal-grey sedan pull around the corner into the street. As it got closer I could see that it was Ed. He looked straight at me but his expression didn’t change and he didn’t seem to register my presence.

  I waited for him to get out and then jumped out of my car and hurried across the road. I walked up to him and put my hand on his shoulder just as he was putting his key in the door.

  ‘Detective Dyson?’

  I thought I’d made enough noise to wake the dead as I walked up the gravel path, but apparently not because he just about leapt out of his skin. He jerked around and thrust his hand inside his jacket, drawing his gun as he did so.

  ‘Jesus Christ, woman! Never, ever sneak up on an armed police officer like that! I could’ve bloody shot you.’ He put his gun back in its holster, glaring at me and breathing heavily.

  The speech I’d been carefully rehearsing seemed to have disappeared into the deepest realms of my brain never to be found again. I stood there looking at him.

  ‘Well? What do you want?’

  ‘Can I use your toilet?’ I squeaked.

  ‘You came all the way here to use my toilet?’

  ‘No, but I really need to go. Can we go inside, please?’

  He stared at me then grunted and turned back to open the door. He headed inside, leaving the door open behind him. I stepped inside and shut the door behind me, following at a half run to keep up. I followed him into a large, modern kitchen.

  ‘Bathroom’s back through that doorway and across the hallway.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  I hurried through the doorway he’d pointed at and for a while all I could think about was the relief of emptying a bladder that was so full that it had been a very near thing when he pulled his gun on me. I tried to imagine what his reaction would have been if I’d peed all over his tessellated tiles. It didn’t bear thinking about. I finished up, and stepped back into the hallway. I could hear
him on the phone in the kitchen.

  Not wanting to intrude on his call, I walked into a large sunny room that spanned the back of the house. Bookshelves lined the walls. At one end there was a billiard table and a couple of leather couches. At the other end was a large oak desk and chair. It was what was behind the desk that caught my attention.

  A large whiteboard was set up. Stuck on it was a collection of photos of women and under each one there was a name and a date. I went over and stood there staring at all the faces. There were probably about twenty of them. They weren’t police photos. They were family photos; smiling faces of people having fun. I looked at them, trying to work out what connected them.

  They were all so different. Some were old, some young. There were brunettes and blondes and the occasional dark-haired woman or redhead. Some looked well groomed, others not so much. A few were very pretty but many were quite ordinary. As I stared a few started to stand out. My eyes were drawn to four of the pictures.

  At first I couldn’t work out why those women were pulling my focus and then I realised; it was their eyes. They had the most stunning green eyes. It wasn’t obvious at first glance because their overall appearances were so different. One was quite young with strawberry blonde hair and freckles. Another was late twenties or early thirties with dark, honey blonde hair and porcelain skin. The third and fourth were both middle-aged. One was thin and had greying brown hair and the other was a redhead, good-looking in a well-preserved and cosmetically enhanced kind of way.

  What they shared was a set of extraordinary green eyes. I pulled the four photos off and stuck them together along the bottom of the board, putting them side by side to better compare them. I was so engrossed I didn’t realise that the murmur of Ed’s voice in the background had stopped. I didn’t hear him come up behind me and so for the second time that day he nearly gave me a heart attack.

  ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

  I turned around with my heart pounding, wondering whether Detective Dyson actually got pleasure from frightening the hell out of me.

  ‘Um, while I was waiting for you on the phone I just thought … I didn’t want to eavesdrop … I didn’t mean to …’ I let the words trail off, feeling annoyed for sounding so pathetic. He stood there glaring. The silence stretched on.

  ‘Who are they?’ I finally asked.

  I could almost hear the cogs in his brain whirring as he had an internal debate about whether to answer me or just tell me to mind my own business and get the hell out of his house.

  ‘They’re all the women who’ve gone missing in this region in the last ten years and haven’t been found.’

  ‘Wow, that’s a lot.’

  ‘That’s just the women.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Why have you got those four picked out?’

  Suddenly, I felt silly. He was this experienced detective who had, no doubt, considered every possible link between these women and I was about to tell him four had similar eyes. He was going to think I was being ridiculous.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘Um … it’s their eyes. They all have the most incredible green eyes.’

  He stepped up to the whiteboard and leaned in, studying the pictures closely. Eventually he turned and walked over to the window, looking out over the back garden. I stood fidgeting, wondering what to do next.

  Finally he turned back and looked at me. His expression was blank. He’d pulled down the shutters on whatever he was feeling.

  ‘Why did you come here today?’

  It was a question I’d been expecting but it still took me a couple of seconds to unglue my tongue from the roof of my mouth. ‘I felt terrible about what happened this morning and I wanted to offer to help; with this new case or any old cases, or with your wife’s death — whatever you need.’

  ‘I don’t see how you could possibly help.’ He forced the words out between clenched teeth. ‘What I need is for you and your family to leave me the hell alone. Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage for one day?’

  It was clearly my cue to leave but I’d come this far and I wasn’t going to give up. ‘I just can’t do that. What Mum told you this morning is terrible, and I can’t begin to imagine —’

  ‘No, you can’t.’

  ‘… No, I can’t, but I do know that I might be able to help you find out how she died. All we need to do is work out where it happened.’

  ‘That’s it, is it? Simple! You do realise she’s been missing for nearly two years? If I knew where she went missing from don’t you think I might have found her by now?’ he shouted.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘And I suppose you just randomly pulled her picture down off the whiteboard along with the other three?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The second one! It’s my wife. But you knew that didn’t you? This is all just part of some grand plan you have to fuck with my head! Did you come to the station yesterday and offer to help just so you could get to me? Are you some weird, crazy, bunny-boiling, fucking stalker?’ he roared, his eyes bulging, opening and closing his fists by his sides as though he wanted to wrap his hands around my neck and strangle me.

  I backed away, shocked by the violence of his reaction and feeling more than a little frightened. I was about to turn around and head for the safety of the hallway when I heard the front door open and close. Ed and I both turned toward the noise.

  ‘Ed, are you here?’

  It was Phil. Great. Just what I needed, Detective Dyson in an apoplectic rage and his best buddy Phil, who already thought I was a pain in the arse, about to join us. I didn’t think she would take too kindly to my causing Ed further upset on what had already been one of the worst days of his life.

  Phil took in the scene with one swift glance. ‘What the hell are you doing here? Can’t you just leave him the fuck alone? Hasn’t your whack-job of a mother done enough damage? Did you think you’d better come here and finish the job?’

  I felt the blood rise to my cheeks. It was one thing for someone to have a crack at me but I was very sensitive about people criticising my mother or grandmother. Mustering as much dignity as I could, I looked her straight in the eye and answered coolly, emphasising every word.

  ‘My mother is not a whack-job. She’s a psychic, and a very talented one. It is not my fault that you choose not to believe in what she does. I am sorry that she upset Detective Dyson but she meant no harm. I came to offer any help that I could give. Clearly you don’t want my help. I’m leaving now.’

  I walked up to her and stared her straight in the eye. We were about the same height but I didn’t like my chances if she decided to take me on. I waited for her to move out of the doorway so I could pass. She glared at me, clearly wanting to say more.

  ‘Let her go, Phil,’ Ed said, sounding weary.

  She stepped aside and let me pass. I hurried down the hallway and out the front door into the pale sunshine and cold air. Shutting the door behind me, I took gasping breaths. My heart was pounding and my hands were shaking. I walked quickly across the road and got into the car. I sat there for a few minutes, collecting myself.

  I drove home slowly. My grand plans to forge a life for myself, to find a niche and some independence, had gone up in a puff of smoke. There was no place for my talent in the real world. I’d been foolish to think Ed Dyson would want my help. Our worlds were poles apart and it would be better for both of us if they stayed that way.

  PART TWO

  To have the gift of seeing but never to be believed.

  Apollo’s Curse

  CHAPTER

  11

  When Cass left, Ed felt relieved but guilty as well. He hadn’t meant to lose his temper with her and accuse her of being a — what was the term he’d used? A bunny-boiler. He didn’t really think she was a stalker. She was definitely a bit strange, but when it came down to it
he believed that she really did want to help. Phil, on the other hand, was convinced she was a danger to the public and should be locked up.

  ‘What the hell was that crazy bitch doing here?’

  ‘She came to see if she could help me.’

  ‘You’re kidding right?’

  ‘No.’ He sighed heavily. ‘She was feeling bad after what happened at her place this morning.’

  ‘And what was that? Sorenson was a bit bloody tight-lipped about it. All she said was that Cass’s mother told you that Susan was dead. When I asked how the hell she’d know when the rest of us have been working our arses off to try and figure it out for the past two years she didn’t want to tell me.’

  ‘Apparently Anita Lehman’s a psychic. When she shook my hand she told me how sorry she was that Susan was dead. At first I thought she was just someone who had the wrong end of the stick but when she saw the shocked look on my face she apologised and said she thought that I knew.’

  ‘Knew what?’

  ‘That Susan was dead and had been for a long time.’ It hurt just to have to say it.

  ‘Shit, Ed, just because some old witch who reckons she can read tea leaves thinks she knows something doesn’t make it true.’

  ‘I know, but I believe her. I think I’ve known for a long time. There’s nothing that would’ve made Susan run away with my child inside her.’

  Phil looked at him, trying to decide what to say. In her gut she’d felt the same thing for a long time. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Yeah, I really didn’t need a psychic to tell me what’s been obvious.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘There’s nothing to say,’ Ed turned back to the whiteboard and reached for Susan’s photo where Cass had stuck it at the bottom.

  ‘So what’s the deal with the three others?’

  Phil was as familiar with the whiteboard as Ed. They’d spent many long evenings together trawling through the case files trying to find even the slimmest connection.