Matt went through his files and watched as a pattern began to emerge. He was amazed that none of the detectives—including him—had discovered it before.
“I’ll be damned.”
Matt shook his head. So much for being a hotshot detective. Over fifteen years on the job and it takes this woman a few hours to find a link. Of course it was an obscure link. He looked into Natalie’s eyes. “I never saw that before.”
“We still don’t know if I’m right,” she soothed.
“What else could it be? We’ve been beating at a brick wall for so long. This is the first time we’ve come close to even figuring out this guy’s motive.”
Natalie frowned and looked uncertain. “I don’t understand. Why would he target women because of their chosen profession?”
Matt shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not him but maybe he lost his job to a successful woman or a woman divorced him for a job. You tell me. There could be a hundred or so reasons. None of which we would ever understand.”
Men had killed for a lot less, he knew that for a fact, but still a pattern was emerging and that pattern would tell them more about the Butcher than anything else. Once they knew what made him tick they would have a profile and once that got out maybe they could find this son-of-a-bitch.
“Has anything come up in the search of Helen?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. I have Donovan specifically cross-referencing her name with the Walkers.” He paused. “What about Ian and Missy Walker? Where do you think they fit into all this? He wasn’t a successful woman and she was a stay at home mum,” he wondered aloud.
Natalie stretched out her back as she shifted position on the floor and stared at the pile of folders beside her feet.
“Suppose Ian or Missy saw something they shouldn’t have? Something like Helen Teller’s murder. Hallie said she thought Helen could’ve been a friend of her parents.”
Matt digested that. “But if that was the case, why didn’t they report it? The Walkers were law abiding people. I don’t see Ian Walker as one to let a murderer go free.”
“Unless he was protecting his family. Some men will go to great lengths to keep their women and children safe. Missy might’ve felt the same.”
“That,” Matt said, “is a possibility.” One he would certainly investigate further.
Natalie stared at a spot behind his shoulder.
“The only thing that makes sense to me is that the murders were personal. Someone who knew Senator Walker didn’t like to fly and would be driving home from Melbourne. He could’ve followed the family and pulled ahead when they stopped for fuel.”
Natalie lifted a copy of the Walker family photo from the file. He thought she was thinking about the two people who had lost their lives and the one that got away.
“Hallie looks a lot like Ian, doesn’t she? It must be hard for her to look in the mirror every day and see her father’s face.”
Matt looked over at the photo she held. “She’s strong.”
“Yes, she is. I’ve never met anyone like her before. She’s a real survivor.”
He glanced over at Natalie and he wondered at the type of woman she was. A strong minded one, he thought, and tough as nails. Hadn’t she already proved that? She had been terrified and yet hadn’t let it incapacitate her. She had fought back. Matt liked that about her. He liked everything about her.
Natalie was no timid wallflower. She knew what lurked in the darkness and understood human nature better than anyone. She would understand the demands of his job and why it was so important for him to continue on even when he was ready to pack it in. He saw the most horrific things day in and day out. Seeing human depravity and what the human race did to its own kind was sickening. If he let her, she would be there to balance the bad with the good.
Natalie leaned past him, interrupting his thoughts and the dangerous path they were heading and pulled forward one of the five cardboard boxes Matt had signed out of evidence earlier before leaving the station. She removed the lid and peered into the box marked The Butcher, 2007-2010.
The thirty by forty centimetre archive boxes contained the LAC’s hard-copy files. If they couldn’t find it in here, it didn’t exist or hadn’t yet been investigated. Matt moved to sit beside her and together they went methodically through the evidence until each box was empty.
Seventeen years’ worth of unsolved cases covered the floor. Statements, autopsy reports, timelines, coloured photos—crime scene and general—filled each manila folder along with a catalogue of any evidence they’d found. A bloody scuff mark, a lone button, jewellery on the body. Each had been photographed and a report written about the location of the evidence in the scene.
Natalie had been right. Each victim had been successful. Proving themselves in what was in effect a man’s world, many of them occupying the top of watch lists when they were alive.
His palms became sweaty. He looked over at Natalie. Her head was once again buried in a file, her hand gliding over the notepad beside her as she jotted down her thoughts. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders as she leaned down. Her long dark eyelashes fluttered against her skin as she blinked.
She was so beautiful. The type all men wanted to covet and protect and he wasn’t immune to that way of thinking either. It was in a man’s genes to protect women going back to the caveman era and they certainly hadn’t evolved as much as scientists liked to think. The need to lock her away where no one could touch or hurt her was growing stronger by the minute.
“You know, you should be extra careful. You fit his profile too.”
Natalie sat up and frowned as she tucked her hair behind her ears.
“My midnight visitor could’ve been anyone,” she said slowly. “But I’ll still be careful.”
He imagined her as she had been the other night. At how scared she had been. Matt nodded. “Good.”
He made a mental note to arrange to have a vehicle drive by her house and office every hour just in case. He didn’t like the fact she had a late night visitor and with the profile they were uncovering it seemed more and more likely the Butcher might try and attack her and Matt wasn’t about to allow that. He had failed all the others since he had been unable to catch the man but he wasn’t about to let the Butcher anywhere near Natalie. The last thing he wanted was to find Natalie’s body on Doctor Stone’s autopsy table. He would do just about anything to prevent that. The thought of being unable to save her scared Matt to death.
He watched as Natalie pulled out Helen Teller’s file and flicked through it. The folder wasn’t as big as the others. The unsolved crime had little evidence to begin with and the trail, like all the others, had gone cold. He caught glimpses of the information printed on the paper as Natalie skimmed the sheets. He recognised the detailed statement from the officer first on the scene. He had read it enough times that he probably could’ve recited the whole thing.
Next up was the autopsy report identical to the others except for the sloppiness of his first kill. Even the detective working the case back in 1995 knew the killer was only starting out and wasn’t about to finish any time soon. He had even mentioned that fact in his reports but unfortunately for him, he had died before he found his man. Matt however wasn’t about to leave this case unfinished. He’d solve it from the grave if he had to. He only hoped it wasn’t necessary.
Natalie came to the end of the folder and her face contorted with horror as she took in the crime scene photos. Matt knew what she was thinking and feeling. He had felt exactly the same way when he had first viewed the crime scene photos. The murder had been particularly brutal. For someone the media had dubbed the Butcher that was saying something. He heard Natalie’s sharp intake of breath and the corresponding mutterings of revulsion before she pushed aside every photo but one and handed it to him.
Through the grainy pixels he could make out a child’s birthday party. The child was a boy of twelve and standing next to the boy was a tall man. Matt squinted, the features of the man looking vague
ly familiar. He pushed the photo in front of Natalie’s face and pointed to the man.
“Does he look familiar to you?” he asked.
She took the photo from him and moved it back several inches from her face, her gaze zeroing in on the man. He watched as her face changed as recognition set in.
“Ian Walker,” she answered. “A very young Ian Walker. I’d say mid to late twenties. Most certainly before his political career, definitely before Missy. If he’d been stupid enough to cheat on her we would’ve heard about it by now.”
That was true. If there was one good thing about the media, it was that the secrets they needed to know had already been printed and in the age of the internet, nothing was sacred anymore.
“You were right. There’s a connection between Ian and Helen. They were lovers.”
“You don’t know that. They could be close friends,” Natalie said.
He gave her a look. Natalie ignored him as she flipped the photo over and read the scrawl on the back:
Harry’s twelfth birthday, 1994.
Matt took the picture from her and studied it thoughtfully.
“The son found her. He was only a teenager at the time. I wonder what happened to him. Looks like a nice kid.”
“I’d be surprised if he wasn’t locked away in a hospital. Finding that particular carnage at the place you assume you’re safe would damage anyone’s state of mind.”
Matt nodded. “Could be useful to speak with him. There’s little on the Teller murder, just a brief statement of events leading up to the discovery of the body.”
He pulled his mobile out from where it was attached to his belt and dialled a number. He looked back at her as he waited for the person on the other end to answer.
“Do you think you could talk to him—if he’s lucid, that is? See what he remembers like you did with Hallie?” he asked her.
“Of course but every person is different, it all depends on his mental capabilities and—”
Matt spoke into the phone, interrupting her.
“Yeah, Donovan, it’s Murphy. Do me a favour.” He asked her to locate Helen’s son and then explained what he hoped Natalie could accomplish with a sit down. “Donovan will find him,” he told her as he joined her on the floor after hanging up with Amelia. “The cops on scene barely talked to him let alone interviewed the kid. From all reports he was pretty shaken up, unable to verbalise much.”
“Do you think Helen’s son knows who killed her? Think maybe that’s why he’s not talking?” she asked.
“Why not? Hallie refused help because she was so terrified of the man. Fear can make people crazy,” he said. “All I know is that the Butcher knew Helen Teller more than he knew the others. She was special to him and she did something that set him off. As you saw, the rage was barely contained.”
“History has always taught us, it’s the ones closest to us that suffer. Helen Teller was the catalyst. She started all this. Whatever she did to piss this guy off opened something deep inside him and instead of finding closure at her death he found his calling.”
Matt nodded curtly. “Right. But we checked over and over. Double, even triple checked all our information. The original Detective talked to everyone she was in contact with.”
“Clearly not. There’s no record he ever spoke with Ian. If he missed him he could easily have missed someone else. What happened to Harry’s father?”
“Left when the kid was two, hasn’t been seen since.”
“So she was all he had?”
Matt stretched out his cramped legs. “Yep. Mother was an only child and no other relative ever came forward to claim him. Wish you never offered to help?” he asked when he saw her face.
Natalie shook her head. “No. Not when I know we can catch this guy. It may be long hours and hard work but it has its own rewards in the end.”
“What made you decide to become a psychologist?”
Natalie’s startled gaze jumped to his. He wondered at the reaction. Surely she had been asked the question before. For a long moment he thought she wasn’t going to answer.
“My stepfather was a violent man, an abuser. I still have scars, emotionally and physically. He beat me,” she revealed, her voice rough with emotion. “Actually, beat is the wrong adjective. He tortured me.”
Matt was frozen. Of all the things he’d thought she was hiding about her past, domestic violence had not been one of them. He felt sick at the idea of someone beating her, hurting the little girl she had once been. The thought of no one there to protect a young Natalie made him so angry. He reached out to touch her before jerking back and staring down at his hand. How many times had his hand become a fist? He wasn’t an overly violent man but he got angry on occasion and lashed out. He remembered all the times he’d been in a rage in her presence and felt the blood rush from his face.
“You look like you’re going to faint or throw up,” Natalie said with a small trace of humour in her voice. “That’s not the reaction I was expecting.”
“I was thinking of all the times I lost my temper around you. I’m so sorry, Natalie.”
She moved closer and placed a hand on his arm. “You don’t frighten me. In fact, I felt protected…safe in your presence. Even when that vein in your temple has throbbed in anger I’ve never been afraid. Don’t ever think that.”
He studied her face. “I’m glad. I never want to hurt you, Natalie. Never.”
She shivered. “I know that. I’ve always known that. Don’t be afraid to be yourself around me. I happen to like that person and you wouldn’t be him if you’re afraid of scaring me. I’m tougher than I look.”
His jaw clenched. “What happened to the bastard?”
“My stepfather? I have no idea. I ran away when I was twelve. Came here to Harbour Bay where my aunt and uncle lived. They gave me a home filled with love.”
“Are they still here?”
Her eyes filled with unshed tears. “No. They passed on a few years ago. To answer your earlier question it was because I wanted to be able to read someone so well that I saw the person they were beneath the surface, the real them.”
“To see into their souls?”
“In a way, yes. Psychology is known as the study of the soul. I had thought it was a way to protect myself. But I have had my fair share of misses. Derek, for instance.”
“Yeah, he was a big mistake,” he said lightly.
“It was during my first year in school that I fell in love with it and can’t imagine doing anything else.”
Matt touched her face softly. She looked into his eyes and he became breathless at the heat he saw. His stomach flipped and desire warmed his body. He glanced down at her lips, full and inviting and wondered what it would be like to press his own against hers, to taste her. The thought alone was driving him insane.
“It’s obvious you were born for it. Why would you want anything else?”
He imagined taking off her clothes, touching her naked skin. Did she feel as good as she looked? He desperately wanted to know what it felt like to have her lay beneath him, to feel himself inside of her.
“I want you,” she whispered.
Chapter 25
She watched his eyes widen as the whispered confession reached his ears. His hand stilled on her cheek. Natalie’s heart began to pound in her chest in anticipation. She had never felt so nervous in her entire life than in the few seconds it took for Matt’s lips to touch her own. The moment their lips joined, she felt an explosion of sensation. His tongue swept inside her mouth to glide across her own. She made a satisfied sound in her throat, grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him closer.
She was sure she had never felt anything like it. Sure, she hadn’t had a lot of experience with kisses and sex. Her distrust made it difficult to share something so intimate with another person but still Natalie was sure even Matt was surprised. She had felt his body tense in shock momentarily. It hadn’t lasted long, barely a second, but it had been telling.
From the m
oment she had met Matt he had changed her for the better. He stilled her fears. He made her feel strong and powerful. He made her want him and a relationship and all the little things in between that made life worth living. In her twenty-eight years she had never felt this fire inside her before and she was curious to see where tomorrow would lead.
It was a leap of faith, she realised. There were no promises being exchanged. No words of a future. There was only desire and need and that was enough for her. For now. She may regret her impulsiveness in the morning but tonight she wanted to live.
To feel.
Natalie felt raw from exposing her darkest and tightly held secret to him. But she had never felt better than she did now. Free. Vulnerable. Alive. Not once had she ever revealed her past to anyone but she hadn’t wanted to keep the truth from him. In that one moment, she had made a connection with Matt. Deeper than the turbulent emotions she was already feeling.
Natalie felt better knowing she had shared that little part of her history with him. After all, it was what had shaped the woman today. A part that was more intimate than even the act she was about to partake in. She felt naked with him, the wall she usually put up torn down by her words—her actions. She knew she was safe with him. The trust she had in him was staggering.
She didn’t question or second guess herself. She jumped with both feet.
Matt moved his lips from hers and trailed kisses down her throat, his tongue leaving the skin damp. Her lips felt deliciously swollen. She tilted her head back as Matt began the ascent back to her lips. Her nails dug into his shoulders, telling him silently that she wanted more. He sat up on his knees taking her with him, pulling her into his aroused body.
Would he be a gentle lover or a ravenous one?
Natalie gave a puff of delight before melting into his body. Her arms went around his neck and held tight, her breasts crushing into his chest. Boldly, surprised by her confidence and eagerness, Natalie let her hands slowly slide down his taut chest. She removed his shirt from his pants and placed her palms on his bare stomach, feeling the muscles beneath bunch in response. She smiled at the power she exerted over him.
Not Forgotten Page 17