by Jaye Ford
‘I don’t know. I suppose.’
‘Maybe he got sick of keeping it a secret or something.’ Teagan’s eyes widened with inspiration. ‘Or maybe he wanted to attack someone then stalk them. You know, really scare the crap out of them.’
Liv pressed the swelling gently and tried not to think about the fist that had put it there.
‘Tee, please,’ Kelly cautioned. ‘This is difficult enough.’
‘Oh, right, sorry. So did you see him last night?’ Teagan pointed at the top line on the note. ‘He says, You lied last night.’
Liv shook her head. ‘I got the note on my car yesterday.’
‘So what happened last night?’
She’d visited her dad, talked to Jason, locked herself in the townhouse and . . . ‘The story was on the news last night.’
‘That’s right,’ Kelly said. ‘At the end Sheridan asked if you were scared and you said . . .’ she held her fist up like an activist, ‘No, I wasn’t.’
‘Actually, Sheridan edited a bit out,’ Liv remembered. ‘I didn’t say I wasn’t scared. I said I wasn’t scared when I first started throwing punches then when I realised what was happening, I was terrified.’
‘Well, it sounded like one of your “I am Liv, I will survive” speeches.’
‘Her what?’ Teagan asked.
‘Liv invokes Gloria Gaynor when life gets tough.’
Teagan frowned. ‘Who?’
‘Once,’ Liv said.
Kelly and Liv had been celebrating the end of exams and commiserating Liv’s impending fail in Statistics. Liv had stood and drunkenly vowed to go on, reciting the entire lyrics of Gloria Gaynor’s ‘I Will Survive’ like a speech at a political rally. Kelly had never let her live it down. Is that how she’d sounded last night? Had he watched the news and interpreted it as adamant? As emphatically unscared?
‘Maybe it annoyed him that I didn’t say he scared the hell out of me.’ She put a hand to her stomach, felt sick at the thought she might have provoked him. ‘I just wanted to do the right thing. I wanted to stop other women getting hurt. I wanted to stop feeling so . . . damn . . .’ Vulnerable. Discarded.
Kelly wrapped an arm around her waist. They looked at each other for a drawn-out moment, lifelong friends reading what was beneath the surface. Liv saw concern and sympathy and a little fear in Kelly, felt alarm and trepidation building inside herself. Then tears filled her eyes without warning. ‘Christ, I shouldn’t have done that interview.’
‘What’s done is done, Liv.’ Kelly pulled a tissue from a box on the counter and handed it to her. ‘You should call the detective.’
‘Oh. My. God.’ Teagan covered her mouth with sudden drama. ‘I threw out the evidence.’ Her eyes flicked to the front door. ‘OhmyGod. The bin. It might not have been emptied yet.’ She darted around the counter. ‘I’ll go see if it’s still full. I can get inside it like they do on CSI.’
Kelly grabbed her by the back of the shirt as she passed. ‘You’re not getting into a waste bin. Your mother would kill me. Not to mention the fact that Occupational Health and Safety would make mincemeat of us.’
‘Yes but . . .’ Teagan started.
‘Right. Everyone settle down.’ Kelly said it loudly, as though she was instructing herself as well. Behind her the phone buzzed. ‘Teagan, you answer the phone. Liv, let’s go call the police.’
Kelly’s practicality stilled Liv’s anxiety. ‘Yep. Okay. I’ll call Detective Quest.’
‘When you’re done, Tee,’ Kelly said, ‘grab a couple of glasses of water. And maybe a stiff Scotch for Ms Prescott.’
‘Do we have Scotch?’
‘No, I was kidding. Just water, Tee.’
Liv perched on the edge of her chair. Kelly watched her from the visitor’s seat on the other side of the desk. ‘You okay to call the police?’
‘In a second.’ She dabbed at the bruised side of her face with the tissue. ‘Man, I’m so sick of crying. I don’t want to cry but I just keep blubbering away like I’ve got no say in it.’
Kelly smiled gently. ‘Listen, Liv. You were in a really deep and shitty hole before that guy jumped you in the car park. Now it’s an even deeper, shittier hole. Give yourself a break for once and let yourself have a good howl.’
‘No, I don’t need to. I’m fine.’
‘You’re not. You’re injured and frightened.’
Liv turned her face from the probe of Kelly’s eyes. She was both of those things but she was fine. She was. ‘I just need to recite a bit of Gloria.’
It was a couple of seconds before Kelly spoke, maybe deciding whether it was better to go along with her or tip her towards tears. ‘Do you want me to call the police for you?’
That wasn’t staying on her feet. That was letting the bastard from the car park get the better of her. Liv pushed her hair out of her face, wiped her nose. ‘No. I’ll do it.’
*
‘I’m on my way to the station now, Livia. I’ll take a look at your note as soon as I get there.’ Rachel Quest sounded like she was walking.
‘I got another one this morning.’
‘On your car?’
‘No, in the morning mail at the office.’
There was a pause. ‘The same as the first one?’
‘Yes and no.’ Liv told her about the scrawled writing and the lines arranged down the middle of the page, explaining that she didn’t know whether it’d been posted or hand-delivered.
‘Did you put it in plastic?’
‘Not yet.’ It would be covered in all three of their fingerprints.
‘Then do that now and I’d like to see it. Can you bring it into the station?’
There was no urgency in Rachel’s voice but Liv wanted it gone from her desk. Wanted the whole thing over.
‘When will you be there?’
‘In about twenty minutes.’
Liv said goodbye, hung up and looked at Kelly. ‘I’ll give her half an hour.’
‘By the way, where were you earlier? I saw you come out of Lenny’s and you took ages to get here.’
‘I went to see Daniel Beck.’
‘Well, no wonder you took an hour.’ She tipped her head, lowered her voice. ‘He seems nice.’
‘It was ten minutes and it was about the locks in the townhouse.’
‘What’s wrong with the locks?’
‘Everything. He’s going to find someone to replace them for me.’
‘That’s nice of him. And he’s tall.’ Kelly raised a knowing eyebrow like a nudge. In their teenage years, she’d been Liv’s spotter – tall was hard to find when you reached a hundred and eighty centimetres by the age of fourteen. But she didn’t need that kind of help now.
‘Yes, he’s tall and nice and I’m not interested. How did it go with Toby Wright?’
‘Well . . .’ Kelly sat back in her chair, a tentative smile forming on her lips, ‘yesterday he confirmed the rumour that they’re expanding their operations and asked what we could do. This morning he suggested I put some figures together. I don’t think he’s talking to anyone else yet.’
Liv tipped her head back with relief. They’d worked with him before but last year he’d played the field and they’d been undercut by a competitor. Then Kelly had heard on the grapevine he wasn’t happy. Maybe with the expansion, he was looking to go with what had worked before. ‘Fantastic. This could be it, Kell. When do you see him?’
‘Tomorrow afternoon.’
‘So soon. Even better. What do you need from me?’
Kelly grabbed a notepad from Liv’s desk and wrote as they discussed the proposal. It felt good to be talking about something else. Like a breather from the pain and anxiety she’d been nursing since Monday night. As they went back and forth with ideas, Liv found a plastic file holder, held t
he note by a corner and slid it inside, ignoring the uneasiness it stirred in her. They were going to save Prescott and Weeks. That’s all she needed to think about.
Kelly drew two lines under her last words, tore the sheet from the pad and stood up. ‘Right, I’m onto it.’
‘Wait. What about the meeting with Neil?’
She stopped in the doorway, a hand on the jamb. ‘It was . . . fine.’
‘Good fine or bad fine?’
‘He put a report together. We’ve got some options.’
‘What kind of options?’
Kelly glanced towards reception. ‘It was complicated. I can’t explain it off the top of my head and . . .’ she held up her notes, ‘I should get started on this. I’ll go through it with you later.’
Liv tried to read the expression on her face. She seemed cautious, a little evasive and it added a new loop to the knot of agitation in her stomach.
Liv sat in the chair beside Rachel Quest’s desk once again while the detective read the second note. A young guy in a suit talked quietly on the phone at the next workstation and an older man across the room was bashing away on a keyboard. Rachel laid the page on her desk alongside the first one, still in its plastic bag.
‘Have you received anything like this via email?’
Liv had checked before she left. There’d been another twenty-odd emails to add to the thirty-something that’d come in yesterday. Mostly best wishes from people who’d seen her on the news, one offering the name of a good plastic surgeon – hilarious. ‘No.’
‘Have you had any anonymous phone calls?’
‘No.’
‘What about before you were assaulted? Any hang-ups or strange messages?’
‘No.’
‘Has anyone else in your office?’
‘Not that I know of. It’s just the three of us. Teagan, our junior, handles most of the calls and she hasn’t said anything.’
Rachel tucked an errant strand of hair over her ear. ‘Is there anyone you’ve upset recently? A boyfriend? Someone casual?’
She hadn’t had the opportunity or the inclination since Thomas left. ‘I haven’t had either.’
‘Someone in your building?’
She shook her head.
‘Your husband?’
Liv smiled cynically. ‘We upset each other plenty.’
‘Recently?’
‘We’ve been separated a year. It was a messy break-up. I can’t remember the last time we weren’t upset with each other.’
‘Has he ever sent you threatening mail?’
‘No.’
‘What about angry phone calls?’
‘He left me for another woman. There’ve been plenty of angry phone calls. From both of us. But nothing like this. He wouldn’t bother when he can get me on the phone and tell me in person what’s pissing him off.’
The detective leaned back in her chair. ‘He had the affair, right?’
‘Yes.’
‘So what’s he got to be miffed about?’
‘My point exactly.’
One of Rachel’s eyebrows lifted a fraction. It seemed more like solidarity than amusement.
‘The notes don’t prove it’s someone I know,’ Liv reasoned. ‘The assault could’ve been random and now he’s upset he didn’t get what he wanted.’
‘Anything’s possible at this stage. I’ll send these off for fingerprinting, see what we get back.’
‘How long will that take?’
‘A week, usually.’
‘A week?’
‘They’ve got to go to Sydney. There’s a queue and more urgent cases get priority.’
‘What should I do in the meantime?’
‘Look, Livia, don’t count on fingerprinting to resolve this. It’s only one avenue of the investigation and it might not give us anything. Just make sure you handle any more of these as little as possible. Use gloves or tweezers to pick them up and put them straight into plastic.’
She didn’t want more. She wanted the bastard caught. ‘So what are you doing to find him?’
Liv listened to the details of the investigation, apprehension tightening her belly. The CCTV cameras on the third level of the car park had also been vandalised so there were no pictures of the attack. No one in any of the nearby businesses or flats had seen or heard anything and, so far, there’d been no witnesses coming forward with information following the TV story.
‘I wish now I hadn’t done it,’ she said.
‘It tells us something, though. The reference to you lying last night suggests the sender watched you on TV. Which means there wasn’t enough time for the note to be posted and arrive at your office this morning. So he either lives or works nearby or can get there easily on a weekday.’
That made sense but it didn’t make her feel a whole lot better. She glanced at his messages on the detective’s desk and fear prickled at her shoulders. You should be scared.
‘How scared should I be?’
‘I can’t answer that, Livia, but I want you to continue following the security measures we’ve already discussed. I also want to see any other notes you receive. They might help to identify the person responsible. I’ve got some other matters pending at the moment, so make sure you leave a message if you can’t reach me and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.’
The way Rachel said it made it sound like straightforward steps to follow but the message behind it felt like a solid punch of serious-as-hell.
12
It was after midday by the time she got back and parking was impossible. She trawled the streets near the office for fifteen minutes before spotting a car space. The footpath was busy with the lunchtime crowd but instead of sensing safety in numbers, she felt wary and tense.
It’s a dangerous world. Full of dangerous people, Livia.
How long had he been watching her? Was he watching her now?
She walked fast through the pack, stopping to make a quick purchase of a new phone, eventually reaching Prescott and Weeks out of breath. Ally, the dental nurse from across the corridor, was at the counter talking to Teagan and they both turned as Liv pushed through the door.
‘What did the police say?’ Teagan’s question was more gasp than voice.
‘Tee told me about the notes. It’s awful,’ Ally said.
The alarm on their faces made Liv check over her shoulder before moving away from the door. ‘The detective just said to be careful going places on my own and call triple-0 if I’m worried.’
Ally’s mouth formed an ‘oh’ of shock. Teagan put a hand over hers.
‘Look, it’s fine. Everything’s fine in here. No one’s going to walk into an office in the middle of the day and . . . and . . . do anything.’
As she said the last word, the door behind her rattled and she jumped. Ray was half in and half out, pulling his mini notebook from the top pocket of his work shirt.
‘Hi, Liv. I just saw you come in. I’m taking late lunch orders. Do you want anything?’
Most days, he did a morning coffee run and took lunch orders from the offices. It was a casual thing, no set time, no money taken. The staff in the suite ran their own tabs at Lenny’s – Ray just did a quick once-around when he was ready for a break. He usually sat at the bar in the cafe and talked the waitstaff’s ears off while the orders were made up, then delivered them on his way back. Liv knew the solicitor next door made good use of it. So did Ally when her boss’s appointment schedule was full. Liv liked to take the walk to the cafe, an excuse to get up from her desk, but it was handy when they were busy. Ray had everyone’s standard orders noted in his book, just required a shouted, ‘Yes, please’, and bingo, a skim cappuccino or chicken salad, no butter, on multigrain would arrive twenty minutes later.
‘A sandwich would
be great, thanks.’
He made a notation in his book, then came all the way in, shuffling about for a second or two. ‘Teagan said you’ve had some mail.’
Liv flicked a look at Tee – who hadn’t she told? ‘Yes, a couple of notes.’ She repeated the discovery of the first one and how the second one must have been hand-delivered.
Ray nodded before addressing the three of them. ‘I’m very concerned about this development. I’ll be letting all the ladies in the suite know today that I’m available at any time to accompany them to their cars or bus stops.’ He looked at Liv. ‘Will you be needing me this afternoon?’
She tried to match his sincerity. ‘No, thank you, Ray. But that’s a very generous offer. I’m sure the others will appreciate it. Won’t they, Teagan?’ She looked pointedly at her. A don’t-you-dare-laugh. If she taught Tee nothing else, she’d learn the value of being courteous in business.
‘Yes, very generous, thanks.’
As the door swung shut behind him, Tee and Ally giggled quietly.
‘Give him a break, girls,’ Liv told them.
She went to her office, inserted her SIM card into the new phone and found a text message waiting.
Can you be home at 3.45? Daniel.
She cheered silently, sent one back: Yes. Thank you. Again!
Liv waited at Kelly’s door until she looked up from her screen. ‘Why don’t I take a look at Neil’s report while you’re working? I can ask any questions later.’
Kelly blinked, took a second or two to stare blankly, as though her mind was still on the Toby Wright proposal and she needed to wait for the words to filter through. ‘Oh, sure. I thought it’d be better if we went over it together but . . .’ She rolled her chair sideways, rifled through her in-tray. ‘I mean, you’ll probably make sense of the figures, but it might be better if . . .’ she fingered through some documents beside the computer, ‘. . . you know, if we can talk as we go.’ She stood and opened her briefcase on the desk, spent thirty seconds shuffling through the contents. Then she looked over the top at Liv. ‘I must’ve left it at home. Sorry.’
Liv frowned. ‘Why did you take it home?’