by Sarah Barrie
‘No. Did Rob do it?’
‘Yeah. I got hold of her phone records this morning and saw that she’d called you. I was wondering why.’
You’re running out of time. Hell. It was that woman.
She took a large gulp of coffee and scalded her throat. What now? For a moment she was back in that dingy cabin, Rob’s threats echoing in her mind. You talk to the cops, try anything clever, I’ll take it out on the kid.
Stalling, she pulled her phone from her pocket, checked it. ‘I don’t recognise her name. Perhaps she was with one of the businesses I’m working for.’
Ben’s eyes narrowed. ‘The call lasted several seconds. Blood spatter and the phone’s location together with time of death suggests she probably spoke to you right before she was murdered. Or that Rob did, because his fingerprints were on the phone along with Cathy’s.’
Think. Pulse hammering, she tried to. ‘When I’m in Hunters Ridge I often divert my mobile to my home phone because I don’t get reception out there. The machine must have picked it up. I have had the occasional caller who holds on the line but doesn’t leave a message. It must have been one of those.’
He contemplated that, watching her closely. Did he believe her? She knew how well he could read people; it was as though he could dive into your head and find the answers himself. And she hadn’t had the excuse sorted and ready, hadn’t expected this. She should have.
‘So there’ve been no other phone calls, nothing like this has happened before?’
‘Nothing like what? Deranged serial killer mind games? Don’t forget who you’re talking to.’ She got to her feet, uncomfortable under that stare. ‘I’ve got things to do. If I get a call from Rob, I’ll let you know.’
‘If you get any strange calls at all, I want you to tell me immediately. You’ve still got my number?’
‘As if I’d delete it.’ She blinked prettily. ‘Goodbye, detective.’
She moved quickly back to the shoot hoping Ben wouldn’t decide to chase her down with any more difficult questions. She had an hour up her sleeve, so she’d upload the photos, take a moment to get this development straight in her head.
Rob must have known Ben would find out about the call. Damn it. Rob had told her not to involve the police, then he’d gone and done something that had involved the police. What was he playing at? Cathy Sharpe. She didn’t know the name, but she was guessing it hadn’t been the woman who was important to Rob. It had been involving Mia in her murder, in getting the message across. She heard the screams in her mind again and shuddered. This will be you, he was telling her. Kill or be killed. She thought about the gun sitting loaded and ready in the glovebox of her car. Being killed was not on her agenda.
* * *
Mia spent most of the next morning editing and designing. She only had this one to finish, then she’d take a break before a private photo session with a prominent Sydney family this afternoon. She concentrated on the picture of the little boy performing a one-armed handstand, so cute with his mop of brown curls and his rainbow suspenders and big toothless grin. A seagull had swept in behind him, one wing sticking out from the side of his face, marring the quality of the otherwise perfect shot. She carefully worked on removing it from the image, the process quite delicate around the curve of his cheek.
She was so engrossed in her editing that she jumped when the doorbell rang. Cursing because she’d ruined the very tiny last change, she went to the door.
Davis Walker stood on the other side. ‘Well, look at this, you are back.’
Mia scowled. ‘What do you want?’
‘You’re the woman who escaped Rob Littleton. It’s not about me. The whole country wants to hear your story.’
She folded her arms. ‘Then I’d better go find a reporter worth telling it to.’
‘You won’t get better than me, and because of that, I can offer you the most cash. It’s a lot of money, Mia.’
‘I’ll do just fine without it, thanks.’
‘I heard a quiet rumour that he called you during his last kill.
’ ‘You know what they say about rumours. Bye.’ She swung the door shut but he kicked a foot forwards, blocking it.
‘Before you slam the door in my face—again—I have a message from Brent Boland. He says if you want to live through all this, he needs to speak to you.’
Brent Boland. One of the men who’d kidnapped her for the hunters. Just the sound of his name had her stomach churning. He’d entered the cabin when Rob had fled and, unaware the police were on their way, he’d taunted her, forced himself on her. The pain in her bound wrists had become non-existent as she’d struggled under the assault. When her hands slipped free, she’d used them around his throat, driving him back enough to smash her knee into his groin. He hit her—the bastard got a couple in—but she’d run, made it to the door at the same time the police came through it.
A shiver ran through her. ‘Brent Boland wouldn’t have a clue what he’s talking about. He wasn’t a Master. He was just a little twerp wannabe.’
‘He’s got something he says you need. But he’ll only talk to you. Aren’t you curious?’
‘Nope.’
His lip curled up in a sneer. ‘Of course not. You’d be too scared to visit, wouldn’t you?’
‘I wouldn’t be allowed in even if I wanted to—I’m a witness.’
‘They can’t stop you. That’s just what the lawyers want you to think—in case you damage their case.’
‘I’m pretty sure I don’t want to damage their case.’
‘Even to save your own life? Now, I figure you owe me for all this. So, what really happened to you that night you were stuck in that cabin with Rob Littleton? Just one detail.’
‘You have got to be kidding.’ She rammed her heel onto his toe and he quickly pulled it back. By the time he’d realised his mistake, she’d shut him out.
She leant against the door and pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes. Hell. The phone call, then Ben, now this. What could Brent Boland possibly want? And how had Davis become so involved? The idea of coming face to face with Boland again wasn’t a pleasant one. She dropped her hands and stared into space.
Was she too scared to face him? She was pretty sure he and the others were being held at the Metropolitan Remand Centre at Silverwater—at least, she was almost positive that was what Ben had said. Trial dates were finally coming up. Maybe that had something to do with all this. Could he be hoping to trade information for a lighter sentence?
So why wouldn’t he just talk to the police? It was probably a stupid idea to so much as contemplate going to see him. She didn’t even know the process involved in visiting prisoners. But what if he had something worthwhile to say? The only way he could potentially save her life was to have Rob captured. Did he know where Rob was?
She sat down to keep working, but found herself looking up the prison visit details online. Bookings were required. She closed down the page and finished her current photo edits. Then she pulled the page back up and called the centre.
A wet nose pushed against her face. Snuffled. Sneezed. It woke Mia with a jolt and a scowl.
‘Gross, Jasper, get off!’ She checked the clock—yep, right on six. Jasper’s come-hell-or-high-water wake-up time. Pulling open the curtains she was greeted with a dark, leaden sky and steady rain. Perfect weather to start a day like today. Stretching, she got up and threw on some clothes. Jasper was desperate for a walk, and she had a workout to fit in. Then she was visiting the prison.
She jogged quickly down the street, her light jacket swishing noisily with each stride as she breathed in the scent of fresh rain on the cool air. Jasper was pulling, eager to get to the park. Nerves jangled in her stomach as she thought about the impending visit with Brent Boland. Was she doing the right thing? Could she afford not to go? She crossed the road.
Ben wouldn’t be happy if he found out. He might have been nice enough when he’d spoken to her yesterday, but she knew just how tough a detective
he could be. If he got it in his head she was getting in the way of his investigation, there’d be hell to pay. She’d had that particular lecture before.
They reached the park and Jasper almost dislocated her arm in a lunge for the nearest tree. She stopped, let him sniff around, then moved on. She gave him a half-hour in the park before running home, the misty rain having dampened her clothing and chilled her despite her jacket. Once back at the house she towel-dried Jasper, stripped off her own wet clothes, and prepared for her face-to-face with Brent Boland.
Ignoring the warnings screaming in her mind and swallowing back the cartwheeling nerves in her stomach, Mia drove out to the remand centre. After stumbling through the security rigmarole, she found herself seated in the busy yet soulless surrounds of the visiting room with several other people, waiting for the prisoners to come out. Her feelings were a mix of claustrophobia and an out-of-her-depth emptiness in the pit of her stomach. How anyone could survive being caged for months or years on end was beyond her. It was a necessary but cruel environment. Alien and regimented. She’d go insane. There were guards standing around watching, somehow managing to appear bored yet alert. This visit had given her a whole new respect for them. They deserved every cent they earned, and it probably wasn’t enough.
As the prisoners filed in she spotted him immediately. He hadn’t changed much, but somehow she’d thought he would have, being in here. He looked around and gave her a lascivious smile that had her teeth on edge. His eyes roamed over her face. Lower. ‘Glad you could make it.’
For a moment as she looked into his cold eyes, she was back in that cabin in Hunters Ridge. His face brought it all into much sharper focus than yesterday’s recollection; the fear, the humiliation, the desperation returned and welled up inside her. She almost stood, ready to run. It took every bit of resolve she owned to stay seated, though she absently rubbed at her wrists against imagined discomfort. What could this man possibly have to say that she’d want to hear?
‘Wish I coulda spent a bit more time with you that night.’
‘Nice outfit,’ she bit out. ‘What do you want?’
‘Actually, I’ve got something you’re gonna want.’ He put his elbows on the table, leant in. ‘But first … I’m a bit lean in the cash department.’
He was asking for money? ‘You low on toothpaste? How much?’
‘They’ll only let you put a hundred in at a time. Two of them should do to start.’
‘To start?’ He had to be kidding. ‘You called me into this hellhole and now you’re demanding money? I’m not paying you a cent until you tell me what’s going on.’
He leant back in his chair and looked bored. ‘Fine. See ya.’
That was enough. She couldn’t wait to leave. But when she got to her feet, he shot a hand out to stop her.
‘Okay, wait, wait.’
She ripped her hand away, almost toppling her chair. A guard was already on his way.
‘No touching.’
Boland lifted his hand. ‘Yeah, sorry.’ He waited for the guard to wander back a small distance and leant in again. ‘I gotta pay people, understand? I gotta get someone in here to organise it for me. Canteen money goes a long way. This is in your best interests, pretty lady. Might even keep you alive.’
‘I’m not following. I think you should just talk to the cops.’
‘I can’t!’ he hissed. ‘If the wrong people find out, I’m dead. Rob has ears in here.’
‘That can’t be possible.’ But she looked around nervously, wondering.
‘I’m telling you, it is. One of the other Masters from that night when we had you, his name was Grant Turlington.’
‘Yeah, I know.’
‘He was going to tell the cops about this and try and bargain with it. He got drowned in the sink before he could talk. The other hunter in this place is Matty Stansky and he’s talking about having a chat with the detectives. Already talked to Ben Bowden—asked for an appointment with his lawyer present, promised to give up some details. He does, he’s dead. You’ll see.’
He was sounding more and more paranoid by the moment. ‘Why are you telling me this?’
‘I know almost everyone from that last hunt is here or dead and I know the cops have got a few more leads from the hunters’ webpage. But I also know the webpage wasn’t quite the wealth of information the cops had hoped it would be. Me and Jack, we weren’t just lackeys, we were, like, the bookkeepers. I have access to the details of everyone involved. I can all but hand deliver Rob to the cops. I want to trade that to get myself out of here. The problem is, the guy who’s holding onto that information for me won’t deal with the cops. I need a middleman.’
‘What are you asking me to do?’
‘The information needs to go to Bowden on the condition that once he arrests them, I get the credit for it. I can’t be involved until they’re all locked up somewhere other than here. Tight.’
‘Why now? You’ve been in here for months.’
‘Yeah, well, it’s not easy organising anything in here. Look, my trial’s coming up. I need to get this done. I’m not spending the rest of my life in this place for a guy who took off and dropped me in it. Rob could’ve warned me, Jack could’ve warned me. I want them in here.’
‘So you’re going to give up every other hunter to do that?’
His face closed into a scowl. ‘I don’t give a shit about them. I need out.’
She thought about that, thought about Rob’s threat. If he found out she was working against him with the cops … Was it worth the risk? Boland said Rob had ears in here.
‘Sorry, not interested.’
‘What? Wait! You know he’s coming back for you, don’t you? He’s not a Master anymore. He needs you to get his foot back in.’
‘And how would you know anything about what Rob is up to?’
‘You’re gonna have to—’ He broke off, looked around, lowered his voice. ‘You’re gonna have to trust me. I’m still in the loop.’
‘Until Rob’s caught I can’t afford to take that sort of chance.’
‘He’s on that list, Mia. It’ll tell you where to find him. All you’ve got to do is pick it up, and he’s yours.’
And she wouldn’t have to do what Rob had demanded. She could get the address, make sure it was legit before she even involved Ben. Once she knew for sure where he was, Ben could just walk right in and arrest him. The idea of that weight being lifted was too enticing.
‘Fine. I’ll put the money in. Where’s the information?’
‘I’ll get it to you.’
‘How?’
‘You put the money in, I’ll talk to the right people. You’ll get it. That’s all I’m sayin’.’
She wasn’t going to hold her breath, but … ‘Fine.’ She got to her feet.
‘Remember, if you talk to the cops, the deal’s off.’
Where had she heard that before? ‘I know the rules. Just get me the information. Fast.’
CHAPTER
5
‘Mia said she has her mobile calls diverted to her home number when she’s at Hunters Ridge. That the machine must have picked up Cathy’s phone call. She didn’t get it, and she didn’t know who she was.’ Even as Ben relayed Mia’s explanation to Indy, he wasn’t sure he believed it. His training and good gut instinct generally gave him a distinct advantage over anyone not telling him the truth. But nothing about Mia was easy.
‘Then perhaps it was Littleton who made the call,’ Indy suggested. ‘He might have been going to talk to her himself. I don’t know why, but I can’t imagine he’d want to leave a message.’
‘What could he have to say to her? Why would he want to say it in the middle of a murder?’
‘It might have something to do with the number on Cathy Sharpe’s back.’
‘Yeah, but what?’
‘Did you mention the number to Mia?’
‘No. I should have. I’ll speak to her again.’
He saw Stuart coming past his office window
. He strutted in without knocking, sat himself down, looking more smug than usual.
‘Where have you been?’ Ben asked.
‘Russ asked me to head out to Silverwater. He said you’d organised for Stansky to talk with his lawyer present and I had to make sure everything’s set for tomorrow.’
‘That’s interesting.’ As far as he knew, everything was already sorted. He’d have to call Russ, see what was going on. ‘Right now I need you to—’
‘Mia Morgan was there.’
Ben’s gut took a nervous jump but he kept his tone casual. ‘Was she?’
‘Just stepping into her car as I got out of mine. Fuck me, she’s a goddess. I just about tripped over my eyeballs.’
‘Relevance, Stuart.’
‘I enquired inside, found out she’d been in to see Boland. So I asked him about her. He said she missed him, fed me a heap of bullshit. But whatever the reason, she ended up enquiring with the desk about putting a hundred bucks in his prison account. Strange right? In the last week she’s been a possible phone witness to one of Littleton’s murders, now she’s visiting and paying off one of his goons. If you don’t mind, now that I’ve checked in, I’m going to chase up Ms Morgan, have a little chat.’
‘I do mind,’ Ben said. ‘I’ll handle it from here.’
‘But—’
‘Let’s go, Perkins,’ Indy said. ‘We’ve got plenty of other casework to take care of.’
When he didn’t immediately move, Ben stared levelly at the pissed-off young detective. After several seconds, Stuart scowled and turned, muttering under his breath.
Ben got straight to his feet and mentally cancelled everything else he’d been going to do. He drove through thick traffic, mood deteriorating as he played it all out in his head. Had the visit already been on the cards when he’d spoken to Mia? Did it have something to do with the phone call she’d claimed she never got? Had she lied about that? What the hell was she thinking, visiting Boland?
Something had to have triggered this. And regardless of what it was, she’d put his whole case at serious risk. He took one hand from the steering wheel to rub his forehead in frustration. He understood where her attitude to him came from, and he accepted a big chunk of responsibility for that, but everything had seemed fine when he’d visited the other day. They were friends now, weren’t they? Hadn’t they at least been through enough together for her to talk to him before doing something like this? He had plenty of time to stew over that before arriving and miraculously finding a parking space outside her house.