by Margaret Way
“Well, mothers are mothers,” said Blaine. “I’ll attend to this.” He sounded absolutely unyielding.
“And let you find him a nice dry jail cell?”
Blaine ignored her remark. “I’ll arrange accommodations for him. I’ll even have food brought in, in case he’s too sensitive to show his battered face.”
“Where?” she asked.
“No need for you to know,” he returned, his tone crisp. “Jason can stay there until he feels ready to move on. I’ll even have him picked up at the hospital and taken there.”
“I have to be thankful,” she said.
“Yes, you do. End of story.”
* * *
In the heart of town people were walking to and fro, in and out of shops and down the main street. The baking heat was bouncing off the concrete and glinting off the chrome on the line-up of vehicles, mostly sports utility vehicles. Mallory was in her car, seat belt on, ready to turn on the engine, when someone opened the passenger door and darted in beside her, bringing a strong whiff of body odour overlaid by an odd cloying smell like decaying leaves.
Her heart seized up as if she’d received an electric shock. Events were careening out of control.
“Well I’ll be darned, the very woman I want to see.” Jessica with her blinding orange aura was clearly relishing the fright she had given Mallory. “How are you, Princess? I’ve been stalking you, by the way. I’m very good at it.”
“Get out of my car, Jessica.” Mallory issued the blunt order.
“But I’ve only just arrived.” Jessica spoke like a woman who had successfully pulled off a hijacking. It was apparent she had been living rough. She indicated with a downward flick of her eyes the dark wooden handle of what looked like a hunting knife standing upright in her scuffed leather bag. “Drive on if you would please.”
“Why would I do that?” Mallory knew she couldn’t show any fear. “Am I supposed to be afraid of you?”
Jessica’s head went rigid, like a snake about to strike. “If you’ve got half a fuckin’ brain, yes.”
Again Mallory showed no reaction. “I’m not going anywhere, Jessica. Get out of this car before I blare the horn. That will get people running.”
For answer Jessica slid the knife out of her bag. Mahogany handle, high quality steel blade about six or seven inches long. A curve to it. A knife to cut through flesh, sinew, right to the bone. In one deft movement she made an exploratory jab into Mallory’s side. Blood spurted.
“Aaah!” Mallory’s heart did a complete somersault in her chest. She considered screaming for help, only her mouth was so dry her tongue was sticking to its roof. The point had sliced through the fabric of her dress and the side of her bra before piercing her skin. She bit down hard on the inside of her lip, determined not to let another cry escape her. Psychopaths loved inflicting pain. But Mallory was her mother’s daughter, fierce and brave.
“Unpleasant being at close quarters with a knife, don’t you think?” Jessica said with manic calm. “Do what I’m telling you and you won’t get hurt. I need to go back to the bungalow.”
“What for?” Mallory managed to speak as though Jessica, with her feet firmly planted on the slippery slope to madness, had something of interest to tell her.
“You have to be fuckin’ kidding me?” Jessica snorted. “There’s something of mine I have to pick up.”
“Can I ask you what?” Mallory spoke each word slowly and distinctly, praying for someone to approach her car.
“No. Drive on, girlie girl. I won’t tell you again.”
She pulled out fast without showing an indicator, without even looking. She hoped with all her might some outraged driver might signal a protest with a furious honk on the horn. They were even welcome to crash into her car.
No one did.
Her mind was working overtime. Once at the bungalow she planned on making her escape. The door leading into the hallway, she knew from her search, had a lock. The family bathroom also had a lock on the door. She had her mobile with her. She could ring Blaine, or she could ring through to the farm. That would be quicker, providing someone was there and they were not all out in the field. The CD was playing Callas in her prime. Bellini’s Casta Diva.
“Turn that squawking off,” Jessica roared, as though the glorious sound was battering her tender eardrums.
Mallory obeyed.
“So you’ve been to see Jason. How is he?” Jessica asked almost normally now they had moved off and Callas had been silenced.
Adrenaline was pumping into Mallory, deadening the pain in her side. She was surprised by the amount of blood, but she was able to match Jessica’s weirdly conversational tone. “Why don’t you go see him yourself, Jessica? I could drop you off. If you weren’t all that long, I could wait.”
“Think I’m a bloody fool, do you?” Jessica blasted. “I know what you’re up to. The minute I’m out of the car you’d take off.”
“Why should I?” Mallory’s nerve held. “Wouldn’t you like to see Jason? I could come in with you if that would make you feel easier. I’m letting him have the bungalow while he recuperates.”
“Are you?” Jessica turned mad bright blue eyes on her. The pupils were so visibly enlarged they had almost taken over the irises.
Drugs.
Jessica is as high as a kite.
“Jason needs a friend right now.”
“He doesn’t need a friend like you,” Jessica snarled. “He has me.”
“So shouldn’t you be there?” Mallory sounded entirely reasonable. “He wants to see you.”
Jessica shrank back against the seat, shining weapon in hand. She was moving it around experimentally, sideways, back and forth. She was handling it like an expert. Mallory had an idea the knife had probably belonged to Jessica’s father. It looked like a trophy of some sort. Jessica hadn’t put on her seat belt. Mallory wasn’t about to remind her. People under the influence of drugs were capable of anything.
Jessica’s eyes were flashing a lurid blue. “He said so?”
“Indeed he did.” Mallory spoke in a calm reassuring voice. It was extremely important she convey calm. Jessica in her manic state would relish any show of fear from her.
“Liar!” Jessica turned on her, clutching fingers locked around the handle of the knife.
Mallory was aghast but kept remarkably stoic. Is this the way my life is going to end? she thought. In violence, like my mother? Never make plans. God laughed at man’s plans. One deep stab was all it would take. The world gone. Her dreams gone.
“How I wish you’d never come back, Mallory,” Jessica said. “You’ve brought this all on yourself.”
The air conditioning was running at 22 degrees Celsius, yet sweat was dripping from Jessica’s forehead and her nose, and her body odour was sickeningly strong. “Now, stop dickering about,” she shouted. “I’m not that little slut, Kathy, God rest her pathetic little soul. I know what you’re up to. By the way, there’s blood all over your arm and your lovely white dress. Now ain’t that a shame.”
“I’m sure you don’t mean to do this, Jessica. You’re clearly distressed. I’ve known you since schooldays. Can’t you tell me what’s wrong? Jason is very upset he hasn’t seen you.”
“You’re not lying to me?” Jessica stared at her in puzzlement.
“We can sort this out. Jason loves you.” Mallory managed to sound deeply earnest. After all, it was true, perverted love or not. “I’d say more than anyone else in this world.”
Jessica nodded vigorously. “Yes, he does. I have his heart and his body. You were nothing.” That thought seemed to cheer her immensely. “Jason has always done what I’ve told him.”
“Not too late to take the turn-off for the hospital,” Mallory suggested.
Jessica shook her head. Her tone was back to weirdly flat. “We’ll go to the bungalow first, then you’re of further use. You can drive me back to the hospital.”
“I’ll be pleased to.” Mallory prayed silently.
&n
bsp; Dear God, deliver me.
* * *
Blaine was expecting an important interstate business call to come through. No way did he anticipate having the local pharmacist on the line instead, claiming the call was urgent.
“What can I do for you, Colin?” Blaine asked crisply, wondering what the hell the man wanted.
“This is, well, a hunch, a bad feeling, Mr. Forrester.” Colin’s tone was muffled like some character in a spy movie. “I can say that because my hunches generally play out.”
“Get to it, Colin.” Blaine’s tone was brusque.
Colin obliged. “I waved to Dr. James as she got out of her car. She’d been parked outside the pharmacy. When she came back, the thing that alerted me and what I thought I should tell you is Jessica Cartwright jumped in the car beside her. Then Dr. James took off.”
“What?” Blaine was so startled his voice thundered down the line.
Colin held the phone away from his ear. “Dr. James didn’t look happy. Not angry exactly, sort of more disgusted. Jessica Cartwright is a bit of a rat bag, isn’t she? They sat for a moment or two, talking, arguing, I think, and then Dr. James drove off. I’ve had my eye on Jessica Cartwright for quite a while. In my humble opinion there’s something wrong with that woman. She’s on drugs. I thought you’d want to know.”
Blaine shoved back his chair so hard it shot against the back wall. “I do want to know, Colin. Thank you. You’ve done the right thing calling me.”
“Take care,” said Colin, thinking he had earned himself a nice little stockpile of brownie points from the Big Man in town. Apart from that he genuinely wanted the beautiful Dr. James kept safe. She had his unbending devotion. He could say a little prayer, he thought. Then immediately did so.
* * *
Blaine made short work of quitting the building. He was convinced, like Colin Watson, that Mallory could be in danger. By the time he reached the Range Rover he had already rung the police, getting them involved. He needed Mallory and Jessica Cartwright found quickly. They were travelling in Mallory’s Mercedes. He gave the registration number from memory. The police would put out an alert. He couldn’t bear to think of Mallory alone with that unhinged woman, even though he knew Mallory would keep her head. Mallory was strong and she was a trained clinician. Even so, Jessica Cartwright had the advantage, being entirely without boundaries. As far as he was concerned, Jessica Cartwright was barking mad.
The feeling of powerlessness was near to overwhelming. Where would they go? Not to the hospital. He was fairly sure of that. Back to the bungalow? If Mallory’s hunch was the bottles of nail varnish or whatever contained some toxic substance, Jessica might very well try to retrieve them. Mallory, stalling for time, might have promised to help her.
He put through a call to the foreman at the farm. He hit the steering wheel hard when he was told to leave a message. This was one trauma too far. Mallory had prevented him from doing what he had wanted to do about the Cartwrights. Now he was tortured by the idea Jessica Cartwright was out to do Mallory harm.
Worst of all, he shared Watson’s opinion Jessica used drugs. No one could say with certainty how anyone might act under their influence. Jessica Cartwright had crossed many forbidden lines.
He switched on the ignition of the Range Rover. It responded at once, the engine powerful and refined. He lit out of town at twice his normal speed, flying down Poinciana Road, for once blind to its beauty, heading for Moonglade Estate. Terrible anxieties were moving from his head to his heart. He was thinking of all the bad things that had happened to Mallory. They had come so close to making everything in their lives right. Their shared life was what he fervently desired.
* * *
It was the longest drive she had ever made. Her mobile rang several times.
“No way you’re going to answer that, girlie,” Jessica warned. “Don’t try turning into the main entrance either. Take the fork that leads to the bungalow.”
Mallory drove another couple of hundred yards, taking a left turn along a farm track. A minute later she parked the Mercedes where Jessica directed. Not in the big open garage, but on the front lawn less than two feet from the front steps. Her side was throbbing. She could feel the sticky blood all over her dress, her arm, and her leg. It had even run into her shoe. She didn’t want to look down. She had to ignore the blood. She felt quite woozy, but she forced herself to stay focused.
“Come along,” Jessica urged. “I need a few of my books. I have a great interest in aboriginal medicine. The rainforest is filled with native plants with powerful medicinal properties. I really should have been a scientist.”
“I’m sure you would have been a very good one,” Mallory said, managing to sound admiring.
“That’s true.” Jessica spoke like a normal person, which she undoubtedly was not. It was like a switch being thrown on and off in her head. Normal or what passed for normal one minute, manic the next.
The bungalow was waiting. Densely shadowed by mature trees, it looked something out of Grimm’s Fairy Tales. The ultimate haunted cottage. No one was around. It was very quiet. Not even the prolific bird life was astir. A smouldering sun caused Jessica’s face and throat to glisten with sweat. She made no attempt to wipe off. Indeed she didn’t even appear to notice it.
“This fuckin’ place is cursed,” she muttered, bulldozing Mallory up the steps in front of her. Both of them were of a similar height and weight, but Mallory had the certainty Jessica could overpower her with her manic strength. Jessica was very strong physically, very weak psychologically.
“Go on. Go in,” Jessica breathed in her ear, shoving the key at her.
Mallory unlocked the door, pushing it open. As before, she felt a presence swish in with her. She didn’t understand it, but she felt it. Many people possessed powers they had never asked for and chose to shut down.
“Lock the door,” Jessica barked.
Mallory made a business of obeying. When Jessica momentarily turned away, she swiftly unlocked it. Her experience of inanimate objects was they had a life of their own. Her heart tightened as she waited for the lock to click back loudly. Miracle of miracles, it didn’t.
Jessica had crossed with great purpose to the bookcase. She stood a moment then began pulling out one book after the other, tossing them this way and that to land on the floor. “Sit down, Princess. Just you and me. Relax.” Another manic giggle. “I won’t be a minute, then we can go to the hospital.”
Keen to appear dutiful, Mallory pulled out a chair and sat down, head bent, hands clasped on the table, the picture of compliance, with adrenaline buzzing in her veins.
Satisfied with her body language, Jessica moved off down the hallway.
Mallory had one chance and she knew it. She was on her feet, adrenaline kicking in like a boot to the back. It gave her a much sharper sense of reality. She could throw open the door and start running. She was a good sprinter. Jessica probably was too. Her actions could invite a plunging knife but she would have a chance at finding help. What wouldn’t she give to have Blaine within reach! To have him hold out his arms to her. Save her. She had to save herself. For him.
Jessica came flying back into the living area, her features distorted by rage. “Caught ya!” She came at Mallory like the wind. “You’re not going anywhere yet, girlie. Sit right back down again.” She caught Mallory hard by the shoulder, forcing her down into a chair. “You’ve been here, haven’t you? You’ve searched the place. What were you looking for?” Another little knife jab, this time to the upper shoulder.
It was imperative to obey, or get sliced to ribbons. This was a woman well into the process of disintegration. Teeth clenched Mallory said, “I’ve been inside once. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular. I just wanted to check on the place. It won’t be standing empty, you know.”
Jessica’s mad eyes lit up. “You’re lying again.”
“Why would I lie? What’s the point?” Mallory tried a shrug, fighting to distance herself from the pain. It c
ould be done.
Jessica stared at her, a cold rage on her face. “You better not be lying.”
Mallory showed no change of expression. “This place belongs to me, Jessica. Have you forgotten that?”
“Then who else has been here?” Jessica appeared disconcerted by Mallory’s calm demeanour.
Mallory frowned, as if trying to think. “Possibly a nosey farm worker could have taken a peek inside. That could well be the case. The bungalow wasn’t locked when I came over.”
“Maybe we should just ask them?” Jessica said, with her weird menacing smile. “That’ll settle it.”
Mallory stood up as though happy to oblige. “Okay.”
Again Jessica seemed surprised by Mallory’s capitulation, but then she did her about-face. “You’re lying, aren’t you? I don’t trust you. I never did trust you. You were in the medicine cabinet.”
Mallory prepared herself for what was to come. Jessica was sweating profusely, while she was bleeding but chock-full of adrenaline. “Whatever for?”
“This is a joke!” In a plunging movement Jessica stabbed the knife through the air, an oddly jerky movement like a robot. She was getting fiercer by the minute.
“What are you going to do, kill me?” Mallory challenged.
Jessica gave her incongruous bark of a laugh. “How could I do such a thing to the town’s princess? Lady la-di-da-di da. I could have put a drop of poison on the edge of this knife for all you know. Just a few drops. They could already have entered your bloodstream. I know a lot about our rainforest plants and their toxins. I’ve learned a lot from the aboriginal people.”
“You wouldn’t want to spend the rest of your life locked up in a jail. You wouldn’t see Jason then. He might not visit. Why don’t we go?” She made a move towards the door.
“We go when you tell me the truth.”
Her head was swimming. She was having a little difficulty breathing. “Jessica, I am telling you the truth,” she said, sounding as weary of all the questions as possible.
Jessica’s nostrils flared. “The little bottles in the medicine cabinet, where are they?”