by Lois Kay
“Of course,” Trishia smiled, bringing her face closer to Lucy’s and lightly brushing her lips with her own.
“Okay, Sam,” Jody rose to her feet. “Time for us to gather up some stuff for these lovebirds, so we can send them down to the apartment. Are you coming?”
“Are you kidding?” Sam smirked. “It’s just getting interesting right now.”
“Sam Stevens, where are your manners?” Jody scolded playfully, thankful for the gentle jokes and teasing that eased the tension.
“I didn’t know I had any,” Sam quipped, grinning when Jody grabbed her hand and pulled her off her chair. “Alright, alright, I’m coming. But seriously, love, we could have learned something from them.”
Jody closed the door behind them and looked up. She smiled and reached up to cup Sam’s face between her hands. “I love you, Samantha Stevens,” she whispered, before kissing Sam firmly on the lips.
“And I love you, Jody McDonnell,” Sam whispered back, returning the kiss with so much enthusiasm, it made Jody smile.
“Come on, Dutchie, let’s get those pillows and sheets,” she finally managed to bring out. “I want to set those two up and go to sleep. I’m exhausted.”
*
The moon was high in the sky, bathing the tall trees in a silvery light. Twinkling stars, scattered like diamonds, completed a perfect picture countless lovers had been enjoying since the beginning of time. The typical chirping sound of the nightjar, hunting for insects, occasionally filled the air, while a frogmouth sat perched on the branch of a tree, motionless, waiting for unsuspecting prey.
Trishia sat in front of the bedroom window, staring without seeing much. The beauty of the night had not caught her eye. Instead, she relived the scene on the beach. It was hard not to think of the young girl whose life had ended so violently and abruptly. A flower, broken and trampled on before it had fully bloomed. She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. There were things she would never get used to, and sometimes she wondered if being a police officer was worth it all. Even though, deep down inside she knew the answer. It was. Sometimes she could make a difference, and justice was done. Like when they had chased Megan’s abductors, who wanted to trade Jody’s friend for Sam. Had she not been there, both Sam and Megan probably would have been killed. As always when remembering that moment, a shiver ran down Trishia’s spine and her eyes opened, immediately traveling to the sleeping woman in the bed. A smile spread across her face when she saw the way Lucy was hugging a pillow.
That should be me.
Trishia shook her head and regretfully acknowledged that sleeping wouldn’t be an option that night. Her brain had kicked into full gear hours earlier, and she knew that if she would crawl into bed next to Lucy, her tossing and turning would only keep her awake.
Glancing out of the window, Trishia realized the guest house was in a perfect spot to keep an eye on the property. The main house was about two hundred meters away, toward the top of the hill, while the only road to the house passed the small apartment. Nobody would be able to drive up, not without being noticed unless they would choose to hike through the dense bush that made up most of the property. Trishia vividly remembered how, not that long ago, Little Steven Hayes had been able to get to Megan’s and Sarah’s house undetected. Trishia made a mental note to talk to Sam about that in the morning. Not that she wanted to scare her, but it was always good to be prepared.
A look at the illuminated display of her cell phone told Trishia it was almost three o’clock in the morning. She realized she had not heard from Peter yet and she wondered if that meant their inquiries had not resulted in anything they could use. Trishia frowned and thought about that possibility. Every shred of experience and instinct told her that whoever murdered the girl on the beach, must have done something similar before. Surely Peter would have called her if they had found similar cases. It was in the middle of the night. For all she knew, Peter was at home, asleep. Trishia’s fingers tapped the back of her phone when she considered her next move. After only a few moments of indecision, she stood up and quietly left the room, soundlessly closing the door behind her. She dialed Peter’s cell phone number, crossing her fingers and hoping he wouldn’t be at home, snuggled up with his wife. Angela Jones would have her hide. The phone only rang once before it was answered and Trishia let out a relieved breath.
“You’re still at the station,” she said.
“I am, and I was just wondering whether to call you or not. Can’t sleep, huh? Where are you anyway?”
“Sam and Jody’s,” Trishia answered, seating herself on the arm of the couch and deliberately keeping her voice low, afraid of waking up Lucy. “We’re staying in the guest house.”
“Good idea,” Peter complimented his partner. “It’s a good spot to keep an eye on things. Listen, Trish, I’ve been on the phone for hours.”
The knot in Trishia’s stomach tightened, and she nervously wiped a clammy hand on her shorts. Her mouth went dry and her heart rate increased. To calm herself down she took a deep breath and tried to focus on what Peter was going to tell her. She wanted to hear the details, she already knew the big picture.
“There are two similar, unsolved murders like this in Sydney and Perth. About a year and a half ago, they found a girl stabbed to death on Cottesloe Beach, Perth. Seven months ago, a teenage girl was found on Watson’s Beach, Sydney.”
“Both on a beach.” Trishia voice was hoarse. “Were there—?”
“Pictures? Yes. In both cases. Same pic as we found today.”
“Damn!”
“That’s civil, Trish,” Peter tried to joke. “I said something completely different. Something I would punish my kids for.”
“Does the boss know?”
“Yeah, I just got off the phone with her. Looks like we’ve got a serial killer on our hands. But do you know what really bugs me?”
“What?” Trishia sighed, raking her hand through her hair.
“Sydney and Perth never communicated with each other about this. You’d think they would have put the word out, huh?”
“These things happen, Pete. I’m sure we’ve done our share of screwing things up. I hope you didn’t call them every name in the ‘ Vocabulary of a Pissed Off Law Enforcement Officer’ book,” Trishia joked, knowing her partner very well.
“Who? Me?” Peter’s voice was too innocent, and Trishia chuckled. “Trishia! I’m hurt. I wouldn’t think of it. You know me, I kissed their lily white —.”
“Alright, alright,” Trishia interrupted with a laugh. “I get the picture.”
“Anyway,” Peter continued, this time his voice completely serious. “We have a huge problem here, Trish.”
“I know.” Trishia rolled her neck to get rid of some of the tension. “I guess we need to find out if Alice has ever been to Sydney and Perth.”
“Might be a good idea,” Peter admitted. “I’ve got the feeling somebody is following her around, Trish. Like a damn predator. And it scares the hell out of me. No wonder the poor kid was terrified when we found her.” He paused for a moment. “I ran her picture through the database again. Still no results. You’d think somebody would miss her.”
“I bet a year’s pay that her amnesia has everything to do with all of this.”
Trishia could hear Peter suck in a breath and after a few moments slowly release it. “Do you think Alice was supposed to be the first victim? Shit. I think you might be right. And do you know what scares the crap out of me? There are seventeen months between the first murder in Perth and the one in Sydney. But only seven months between the one in Sydney and the one here. The bastard may be close to finding her.”
*
Darkness surrounded her. Petrified, she instinctively reached out, feeling her way around and trying to find a way out of the blackness. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breathing came in shallow rasps, and her body trembled. Blindly, she stumbled through the shadows, until her feet got caught in something and with a muffled scream she fell. Sh
e didn’t hurt herself because she had landed on something soft. Full of fear her hands tried to map out the object that had broken her fall. Her fingers touched something warm and sticky, and immediately she pulled them away, intuitively knowing that, whatever it was, she had to get away from it. The smell of blood and smoke surrounded her and panic settled inside her chest.
She scrambled to get back up, but suddenly she couldn’t move. Something was holding on to her legs, and with all the power she could muster, she tried to kick herself free. She heard a crushing sound, and it almost made her throw up, but the grip on her legs did not lessen. Instead, the suffocating grip gradually crawled up her body, until she could not move at all. An invisible force held her prisoner, and a racking sob escaped her throat. Breathing became more difficult, and the smell of smoke was intensifying. Suddenly, a small light appeared, and immediately she was filled with hope. She turned her head to look at it. Slowly, it approached. It was like a ray of sun, and the feeling of total desolation and despair began to dissipate. Afraid to chase it away, she held her breath. The light came closer, and when it had almost reached her, it changed. Filled with horror, she saw the light turn into the shape of eyes that looked at her coldly.
No matter where you will run, I will always find you, a voice echoed in her mind.
Unexpectedly a hand materialized, just a hand. Wriggling fingers came closer. She tried to free herself from the invisible bonds that held her, but found she couldn’t move. She whimpered when the hand stroked her face. When it slid down to her throat, she sucked in a lung full of air and from deep within her chest, a sound formed. While her eyes never left the soulless ones in front of her, she finally managed to scream.
“Noooooooo!”
Alice’s eyes shot open. Her chest was heaving, and her heart was beating in her throat. The t-shirt she was wearing was stuck to her body, and her hair was damp with perspiration. She tried to make sense of the darkness that surrounded her. Moonlight was streaming through the window, painting the interior of the room with a silver hue and slowly, very slowly realization sank in. She let out a shaky breath and fell back into the pillows. It had been a dream. A familiar nightmare that had not made an appearance for a while. Until now.
With trembling fingers, Alice pushed back her long hair, wondering if she had been screaming out aloud. And if she had, whether she had woken up any of the other occupants of the house. Alice turned onto her side and pulled up her knees, trying to make herself as small as possible. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing back the tears that threatened to come. Her throat felt thick and painful, and convulsively she swallowed. But no matter how hard she tried, the tears came anyway and leaked from under her closed eyelids. They dripped down her face to be absorbed by the sheets on the bed, leaving a steadily growing wet area on the light blue cotton. Sobs racked her body, and Alice pressed her face into the pillow to stifle the sound, feeling tired, hurt and incredibly lonely.
*
Fiona woke up to an unfamiliar sound, and for a few minutes, she was wondering if she had been dreaming. Everything seemed to be quiet. Her ears only picked up the natural sounds of the night. The call of a night bird, the rustling leaves of the trees, the soft humming of the air conditioner. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Deciding it had been a dream that had roused her from sleep, she turned on her other side and snuggled back into the pillow, determined to sleep a few more hours. Just as she started to doze off again, Fiona heard a muffled sound coming from the room next to her. She raised her head and listened carefully. There it was again. It sounded like crying, and immediately she sat up straight, wondering what to do. She knew Alice was in a difficult situation and no matter how much Fiona wanted to help her, she didn’t know how. And the last thing she wanted was to scare the skittish girl.
Waking up her mother to see what was going on was no option. Fiona had seen how tired her mother had been and the last thing she wanted to do was interrupt her sleep. Besides, her mom had been given pain pills, and Fiona knew how strongly her mother responded to medication like that. She would be zonked out.
With a frown, Fiona stepped out of bed and headed toward the door. There was only one other option left. She walked through the dark hallway toward the other side of the house, deftly avoiding crashing into the furniture she passed. It was in the middle of the night, but the light of the moon that floated through the windows was enough to help her find her way without any accidents. Since knocking on the door would alarm the entire household, Fiona just opened it and walked into the master bedroom. The house was quiet, and there was no light seeping into the hallway from underneath the door, so was confident she wouldn’t interrupt anything. Tip-toeing to the bed, Fiona peered at its occupants and couldn’t help smiling when she saw the intimate scene in front of her.
Sam was fast asleep, lying on her back, one leg under the covers, the other one on top of it. Her left hand was resting on her stomach, while her right arm was wrapped around Jody, who was snuggled up against Sam’s side, with her head on Sam’s shoulder and her right arm draped across Sam’s stomach. They reminded her of a puzzle; all the pieces fit to make one picture. Fiona stepped closer and knelt next to Jody’s side of the bed. Carefully, she put a hand on Jody’s shoulder and softly squeezed. Her sister was notorious for being close to impossible to wake, and Fiona had already prepared herself for a persistent, relentless mission. When Jody immediately turned her head, and looked at her with startled eyes, Fiona lost her balance and landed on her rear.
“Jeez,” she huffed. “You scared the heck out of me.”
“Fiona?” Jody’s voice was sleepy. “What are you doing up? Is everything alright?”
Jody untangled herself from Sam’s grip, careful not to wake her and turned around to look at Fiona, whose face was pale in the light of the moon. “What’s going on?” she repeated, a little more urgent this time because the events from the previous night came rushing back into her consciousness.
“It’s Alice,” Fiona whispered, crawling back to her original position. “I woke up because I thought I heard somebody scream, but then I thought I must have been dreaming until I heard her cry. She sounds so sad, Jody.” Fiona’s voice trembled slightly.
Jody stared at her, trying to let the words penetrate the sleep induced fog that was still drifting around in her brain. “Okay,” she said, pushing herself up to a sitting position. “And you want me to go check it out. Right?”
“She sounds really pitiful, Jody,” Fiona said.
“Alright, let’s go then,” Jody whispered. “Just wait for me outside, I need to put something on.”
Fiona frowned and was about to reply, but Jody’s raised eyebrows silenced her, and she felt a blush creep up her face. “Oh,” was the only thing she could utter, mentally kicking herself. She quickly turned around and headed for the door, grateful for the darkness that was covering up her embarrassment.
A few moments later Jody appeared in the hallway, pushing back her sleep tousled hair and yawning. She was dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of knit shorts. Despite the situation, Fiona chuckled softly, which earned her a playful, but painful pinch from her sister.
“Not a word,” Jody hissed. “Or I’ll come barging into your bedroom in the middle of the night in, let’s say, ten years from now or so.”
Fiona grabbed Jody’s hand and gave it a loving squeeze. “Sorry, Pea, but thanks for doing this. I… I didn’t know what to do, and I really think she’s very sad. It sounds like she has her face buried in a pillow or something, trying to be quiet.”
“Hop back into your own bed, and I’ll check in with you later, okay?”
“Sure.” Fiona smiled, aware of a warm, fuzzy feeling inside her chest. She gave Jody a quick one-arm hug and a peck on the cheek. “Thanks, Pea.”
“Anytime, Red,” Jody said.
Jody waited until Fiona had closed the door of the bedroom behind her, before approaching the entrance to Alice’s room. Fiona had been right. Even through the solid, sturdy
wood of the door, she could hear the sobs. It sounded like they came from the depths of Alice’s body. And it was evident she was trying to muffle the sound. Jody knocked on the door and listened for a few seconds, but there was no response. Taking a deep breath, she decided to take the proverbial bull by its horns and entered the room, closing the door behind her with an almost inaudible click. Clearing her throat Jody’s eyes never left the huddled form on the bed. “Alice?” she called out softly, hoping the teenager would hear her. And she did.
Alice’s head jerked up, and with fearful eyes, she looked toward where Jody was standing. She was about to jump from the bed when Jody quickly stepped closer, a worried frown etched in her forehead. “Alice, honey, it’s me, Jody. You don’t have to be afraid.”
Slowly Alice’s eyes lost their haunted expression, and when she finally recognized her nightly visitor, her shoulders slumped. She drew her knees up against her chest and slowly rocked back and forth. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, avoiding Jody’s eyes.
“Sorry for what?” Jody asked. She took a seat on the edge of the bed. She was close enough to see the expression on Alice’s face, but far enough to give her the space she needed.
“I woke you up,” Alice answered with a voice that was hoarse from crying. She sniffed and used the back of her hand to wipe the moisture from her cheeks and rub her tear-filled eyes. She looked so vulnerable that Jody’s heart went out to her. She reached out and covered nervously fidgeting fingers. “It’s alright, Alice,” she said. “I think you had a bad dream. Do you want to talk about it?”
Jody could feel Alice’s body stiffen, and she expected her to pull away her hand. She could almost feel the hesitation, but after a few moments, Alice apparently decided to leave her hand where it was and relaxed a little. Alice didn’t know what caused it. Maybe it was the gentle, soothing sound of Jody’s voice or the touch of a warm hand, but she felt safe. Whatever it was, Alice went against one of the most important rules she had once set for herself. She talked.