No Ocean Deep

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No Ocean Deep Page 36

by Cate Swannell


  Harding snorted. “Of course they did. Obvious as balls on a dog that he had to go to trial. Sometimes I think we waste too much time on giving these arseholes their so-called rights.”

  Jo chuckled. “There speaks a man who's always been on the right side of the law,” she said, smiling at the big policeman. Harding looked even more disheveled than usual, she thought. His tie was askance and sweat trickled down the side of his face. One of these days, I swear, he's going to drop dead where he stands, Jo thought affectionately. “What have you been up to, Detective?”

  Harding wiped his brow with a rather grey-looking handkerchief he fished out of his jacket's breast pocket before he answered. He stuffed it back and looked right at her.

  “Running around on your behalf, actually,” he said smugly. "So, if we could figure out how to get you to the US, when would you want to go?”

  Jo looked at him and raised an eyebrow in surprise and hope. "Are you serious?”

  “M'not making any promises, okay?” he said hastily. “But I’ve managed to get us an appointment with some senior boffin over at the US Consulate General. You up for it?”

  Jo’s heart skipped a beat. “Yes, of course,” she said, trying to contain the leap of hope. Probably won’t come to anything, so just calm down, she told herself. “When?”

  “Soon as we can get there,” Harding said bluntly.

  “How the hell did you manage that, Ken?” she asked wonderingly. “Did you sell your soul for it?”

  Harding sported a rare grin, an expression that took years off his age and made Jo match it with one of her own in pure reflex. He touched the side of his nose with one meaty finger and winked.

  “Can’t say too much,” he said playfully. “Come on, let’s get moving, or we’ll never get through the fucking traffic.”

  “Lead on,” Jo said.

  “Jesus Christ, Naomi. You scared me half to death.” Cadie hurriedly crouched down to pick up the sputtering candle that she had dropped, before it burned the carpet. “What the hell kind of bullshit was that to pull?” She felt a deep anger rising up in her chest at the thought that her ex-partner had deliberately set out to scare her.

  Naomi sat as still as a rock in the sheet-draped chair across the room from the door. In her hand was the flashlight Cadie had been looking for, its light casting her face with an eerie glow that put Cadie in mind of a grotesque Halloween pumpkin lantern.

  “No bullshit, Arcadia,” the senator murmured. “I had the power disconnected once I realized I had no idea when you would be home. I’ve only been here a couple of hours myself, so I haven’t had time to do anything about it.”

  Cadie put the righted candle on the nearest flat surface and set about lighting a few more, placing them around the room.

  “You could have said something when I first got here, instead of sitting there like some kind of malevolent toad.” Ease up, Cadie. Don’t let your temper get the better of you. She slammed a candle down hard, endangering the plate it was balanced on, the adrenalin still coursing through her system. Fuck her.

  “I was asleep,” Naomi said calmly. “I’m sorry if I startled you.”

  Asleep my ass. I made enough noise coming in here to wake the dead. Cadie whirled on her. “Startled me? Jesus, Naomi. How would you have felt if it had been the other way around?” She slumped down into one of the other armchairs and ran her hand through her hair in exasperation. Her heart was still pounding like a son of a bitch. “Jesus.”

  A low, laugh came from across the room. Cadie would have almost described the sound as creepy if she hadn’t been trying desperately hard to minimize the panic Naomi’s stunt had generated.

  “You can’t honestly say you weren’t expecting me to show up,” Naomi said softly. “You’re my partner, this is our house and I knew you would come here eventually.”

  Cadie looked at her sharply. Naomi had switched the flashlight off, now that the room was at least semi-adequately lit by candles.

  “Yes, Naomi, just how did you know I would be coming here tonight? I mean, I know that you were informed when I landed in the country, but I only really decided this morning that I would be driving down today. Besides, aren’t you supposed to be in the Senate?”

  Naomi shrugged. “I’m sure the world will keep turning without me for a few days,” she replied mildly. “You may find this hard to believe, but I do still have friends in Madison. Friends who know how badly I want to patch things up with you and who did me the favor of letting me know your movements.”

  Cadie was appalled. “You’ve had someone watching the house?” she asked, incredulous. Naomi chose not to reply, but an almost feral smile creased her face. “Unbelievable,” Cadie exclaimed. “I’d heard you were pretty much losing it, Naomi, but now I’m starting to actually believe it.”

  The senator showed few signs of emotion, but her hands balled into fists on the arms of the chair in which she was sitting. “I don’t know what else you expected me to do. You don’t accept my phone calls, you don’t reply to my emails, and you certainly don’t initiate any contact with me, let alone have the courtesy to tell me when you would be coming to my home.”

  Cadie snorted. “Your home? A couple of minutes ago it was ‘our home’.”

  “What do you want from me, Cadie?” Naomi snarled, the first indication of her true emotions. “I want to talk to you. I doubted if you would meet with me voluntarily, so I made sure that we would cross paths. You can’t blame me for that.”

  “And you left the power disconnected just for effect, I suppose?” Cadie snapped back. “Thought it might be amusing?”

  “Surpriiise…” Naomi said, letting another feral grin wipe the anger from her face.

  For the second time in just a few minutes, Cadie felt a tendril of fear curl its way around her intestines. This was different, though. It wasn’t the shock, this time. This time it was the cold, stark knowledge that her ex-partner was not someone with whom she wanted to tangle. Not now and not ever again.

  Cadie said nothing, but sat back in her chair and watched the senator warily.

  One thing’s for sure, she’s not going to just let me wander around packing up my stuff. She crossed her legs and folded her arms, preferring to let Naomi make the next move. Instinct tells me I should just walk out now and drive back to Madison, but somehow I don’t think she’s going to let me get away with that, either.

  “I was thinking that once we sort all this out between us, that we should redecorate the house,” Naomi said contemplatively, looking around as if seeing the place for the first time. “It’s been about five years since we did this room, hasn’t it? What do you think, darling?”

  I think you’re nuts. “Mom and Dad are expecting me to call, or they’re going to worry,” Cadie said out loud. “Or have you disconnected the phone as well?”

  “Feel free.” Naomi gestured at the telephone which sat on a nearby coffee table. “But I don’t think there’s much point in making a fuss, do you? I’m sure you don’t want them rushing down the highway for no reason.” She smiled again. “After all, you’re perfectly safe, here with me.”

  The two forlorn figures leaning on the bar looked like some kind of bizarre comedy double act. Both leaned with their chin on their hand. Both held a half-drunk glass of something smooth and amber in their other hand. Both gazed ahead soulfully, blinking mindlessly at their own reflections in the mirror that ran the length of the back of the hotel bar. And both sighed intermittently between sips.

  “Well, we tried,” Jo said glumly.

  “Yeah, we did. M’sorry we couldn’t do more than that,” Ken replied, his words slurring just a little.

  “Hey, mate, you got us in there in the first place. S’not your fault that little pipsqueak wasn’t going to give in no matter we said.” Jo took another swig of scotch.

  Ken turned slightly to look at his drinking companion. “He was a knob wasn’t he? Damned if we didn’t nearly persuade him. Bastard.”

  Jo glanced at him
. “Would you really have come with me, Kenny?”

  He gave her a lopsided grin. “Sure. Fuck knows I deserve a holiday and as long as you’d knocked me out for the flight I’d’ve had fun, m’sure. Just can’t stand fucking planes.”

  “Well, you should try women instead.” Jo guffawed at her own pun, though it was lost on Harding, who looked nothing but puzzled. “S’a joke, Joyce,” Jo muttered.

  “Jesus, you must be drunk if you thought that was funny,” Ken complained.

  They had gone straight from the US Consulate to an early, and largely liquid, dinner, and then back to the bar at Jo’s hotel. It wasn’t late, particularly, but the day’s events were catching up with both of them.

  “The depressing thing is I think I’m actually starting to sober up,” Jo said mournfully. “Damn, you know I was sure we had him when you suggested you’d go with me and I’d report in to the local authorities every second day.”

  “I should’ve said every day, god damn it,” Harding muttered. “I knew it wasn’t gonna work the minute the words came out of my mouth.” He sighed loudly. “So what are you gonna do now?”

  Jo shrugged. “Nothing, I guess. It was just an idea I had ‘cos m’missing her like crazy. Guess I’m just gonna have to stop being a big cry-baby and wait it out till she gets home.” She drained the last of the scotch. “M’just a big old mushball, huh?”

  Harding snorted. “Yeah, that’s you all right.” He gestured at the bartender and waited while the man refilled his shot glass. Jo waved him away, covering her own glass with her hand. “You worried about that cute little sheila of yours going back to her girlfriend?”

  Piercing blue eyes suddenly regained their focus and pinned him to the closest wall. “No, Harding, m’not worried about that,” Jo said coolly. Was she? Fuck sake, of course not. And quit breaking Ken’s balls.

  “Oh yeah, you’re a big mushball,” Ken muttered, a half-smile playing across his lips. “Take it easy, okay? I was just asking.”

  “Yeah, I know. Sorry. S’just the thought of that bitch makes me want to resurrect that nice little garrote of mine.” An evil twinkle winked back at Harding and reminded him of just who he was sitting next to.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet her,” Ken sniggered.

  “You didn’t miss much. Try to imagine a cane toad, only with less personality.”

  “Bleugh, no thanks.”

  Jo leaned her elbow back on the bar. “I had a fabulous dream about her the other night,” she said.

  Harding looked at the beautiful woman out of the corner of his eye. “You’re dreaming about your girlfriend’s girlfriend?” he asked. “Kinky.”

  Jo slapped him across the shoulder. “Not that kind of dream, you old pervert,” she chided him. “No, we were all on this beach up in the islands. Can’t figure out which one,” she said, getting distracted. “Anyway, Naomi was giving Cadie grief about something and I was walking towards them, and I was dragging an anchor by its chain. Naomi said something that just really pissed me off – can’t remember what – and I started swinging the anchor round and round above my head.” Ken laughed, because he could see where this was going. “Shut up. I let it go and it sailed through the air in slow motion and – splat! – it nailed the bitch on the back of the head and shoved her face down in the sand. Just like Wile E. Coyote and that damn rock.” She smiled dreamily at the memory.

  “And the best thing was the sound,” she continued. “It was just like when you take a swing at a cane toad with a seven-iron.”

  This time Ken almost choked on a mouthful of scotch, he laughed so hard. “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned cane toads in the last 10 minutes,” he said. “Is this some kind of fetish you only develop when you’re half-cut?”

  “Not a fetish,” Jo mumbled. “S’just the image I get when I think of that bitch.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “You gonna be all right to get home, mate?” Jo asked as she clambered off her barstool. “I think I’m about done for the night.”

  “Yeah, I’ll be right. I’ll just whistle up a patrol car. They can drop me off.”

  She looked at the big man affectionately. “The perks of rank, eh?”

  “Yeah, something like that. M’gonna finish my drink first, though.”

  “Fair enough.” Jo felt a wash of gratitude for the older man. Whatever his motivations, Harding had proven himself to be a good friend. On impulse she leaned forward and dropped a kiss on his florid cheek. “Thanks for everything, Ken,” she murmured before she turned on her heel and exited the bar, heading for her room.

  Harding sat stunned for a few seconds before he lifted a hand and touched the spot she had kissed with nerveless fingers. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered. “She kissed me.” He looked down at the almost empty glass in front of him. “That calls for a drink.”

  Jo was dreaming again. The images were jumbled and nonsensical but they were pleasant enough, thankfully. Somewhere in the dreamscape a phone was ringing, loudly and persistently. Ringing and ringing and ringing.

  Ugh. Jo reached out blindly and fumbled for the phone. She almost dropped it before she managed to get it to her ear.

  “Yeah, hello,” she grumbled.

  “Is that Jo Madison?”

  Female. American. Not Cadie. Can only be one of two choices and I’d recognize a cane toad if I heard one.

  “Hello, Mrs. Jones. Yes, this is Jo.” A sliver of fear washed through Jo, the sudden wave of adrenalin cutting through the residue of fatigue and hangover. Why would Cadie’s mother be calling me, when Cadie’s … “What’s wrong? Is Cadie all right?” Panic tasted bad, she realized.

  “Yes, yes, she’s fine,” Cadie’s mother replied. “At least … well, at least, we think she is. I’m actually calling to see what you think.”

  Confused and still befuddled by sleep, Jo sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed her face with her free hand. Come on, Madison, get your brain working. “Okay,” she said.

  “Cadie called us a few hours ago. She’s at the Chicago house.”

  “Oookay.”

  “So is Naomi.”

  Jo’s heart sank and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She swallowed. “She told you that?”

  “Oh yes,” Helena said. “She also said everything was fine and that she didn’t need us to drive down to be with her.”

  Jo thought about that. “And you don’t believe her?” She could just imagine the intimidating figure of the senator listening in on that call. Don’t panic her mother, Jo. No matter what you’re feeling.

  There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “Well, she sounded very tense. I don’t think she was happy about things at all.”

  I bet. Jo felt slightly sick. On the one hand, her first instinct was to send in the local reinforcements as quickly as possible. Especially as even if I could get on a plane right now, I won’t be there for another 24 hours. She felt renewed anger at the pigheaded US Consulate official. Damn him. On the other hand, she knew Cadie would consider that she was perfectly capable of handling Naomi without any interference from her parents. Or me, for that matter. Look at how Cadie handled herself at the airport. That took a cool head and some quick thinking. She bounced up off the bed and began pacing. On the third hand, you know damn well that bitch will do almost anything to get Cadie back.

  “I’m not really sure what to tell you, Mrs. Jones,” Jo said quietly, forcing her own sense of uneasiness down deep, where she hoped it wouldn’t show. “I think if Cadie had needed you there, she would have found a way to tell you exactly that. It could be that this will be a good opportunity for them to finally tie up all the loose ends.” Right. And it could be a good opportunity for Naomi to start getting nasty when she finally realizes Cadie isn’t going back.

  The older woman sighed. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. I just keep thinking of all the stories Cadie has been telling us about Naomi’s behavior lately.”

  Jo had a quick flash of Naomi’s hand pul
led back to strike Cadie in the watch-house of the Hamilton Island police station. “Yes, I know what you mean,” she murmured. “I wish I was there.” M’going. I don’t care what it takes anymore. But how?

  “I wish you were, too,” Cadie’s mother said. “Cadie’s told me a lot about … well, about how you make her feel safe.” Jo felt herself blushing and she rubbed her face again. “I’ll be very glad when Naomi is out of her life for good, because somehow I don’t think she’s ever made Cadie feel that.”

  The solution came to Jo in a cold flash, stopping her mid-pace. She made a quick decision, a calm settling over her as she sat back down on the bed.

  “Look, how about this as a compromise,” she said aloud. “I’ll get there as soon as I can. That gives Cadie just over a day to deal with Naomi. Hopefully, she’ll be just fine.” Hopefully.

  “Thank you, Jo.” The relief in Helena Jones’ voice was obvious. “It’s always a fine line between letting your children make their own mistakes and keeping them too sheltered from the world. I want to race down that highway, but if we do, and everything’s fine, Cadie won’t thank us for it. But we’re so worried for her.”

  Jo heard a world of pain and memories in that statement and she remembered the grief in Cadie’s eyes as she had told Jo about the death of her older brother, Sebastian. No wonder her mother’s torn about this, she thought. Keep it calm and normal.

  “It’s okay,” she murmured, thinking that perhaps she might get to like Cadie’s mother, very much. “Um, could you tell me the address of the Chicago house, please?”

  “Oh yes, of course. Do you have a pen?”

  Jo reached for the hotel stationary and pen sitting on the bedside table. “Yep. Go ahead.”

  Helena gave the Australian the address. “Jo, there’s a chance Cadie may be back here by the time you arrive in Chicago,” she said. “I mean, there’s just no way of knowing really.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Jo replied. “That’s okay. I was thinking of flying over to surprise Cadie, anyway.” Of course, I still have to run a few gauntlets before then, but why burden her with the details.

 

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