He welcomed the pain that shot through him and the blood that wept from his knuckles. As he glanced down at his hand and noticed the absence of his wedding ring, nausea rose within him again at the thought of how quick he’d been to take it off once Meg had arrived on the scene.
Although he’d never been one to believe his wife was up above watching over them, he looked up to the bright blue afternoon sky now and shook his head. ‘I’m so sorry, Leah.’ How could he ever expect her to forgive him for getting close to a cold-blooded killer—for letting their son get close to her—when he would never forgive himself?
And what was he supposed to tell Ned about Meg? The poor kid was infatuated with her. She hadn’t just deceived him—she’d deceived his son, let his son fall in love with her without really knowing who she was.
Before he could contemplate this question, the screen door opened and Tab came up behind him. ‘Shit.’
He shook his head. ‘That word isn’t strong enough for this. They haven’t yet invented a swear word that is.’
‘Shit,’ she said again, this time with much more force. ‘What have you done to yourself?’
As she grabbed his wrist, he looked down and shrugged. ‘Just letting off a little steam.’
‘Come inside and let me clean you up. You don’t want Ned to come home and see you like this.’
Tab’s mention of Ned convinced him to follow her inside instead of punch the railing again. She led him to the laundry and thrust his bloody hand under the tap in the trough.
‘Stay there,’ she ordered, ‘while I get a clean towel and some ice.’
He stared at the water cascading over his hand and went back in his head over all the times he’d been with Megan since they’d met. Had he at any moment ever suspected her of something like this? The quiet reserve he’d found so endearing in the beginning had been down to guilt, not because she was a victim as he’d initially suspected. Now as he looked back there were many clues—the way she’d been so nervous that first day, so reluctant to let them inside her house; the fact she said she didn’t have a phone (if indeed that was the truth, who knew now?); the drug confession; the way she’d moved from Melbourne to a ghost town for fuck’s sake!
But he’d made excuses for every little thing. He’d put it all down to her being hurt and trying to recover from her traumatic past. He’d given her the benefit of the doubt, time after time after time, proving himself over and over again to be a lovesick fool.
Shakespeare said love was blind; well, Lawson had sure proven that to be the case.
‘How’s that hand?’ Tab asked as she returned to the bathroom and turned off the tap. She proceeded to wrap his hand in a clean towel and then pushed it up against his chest. ‘Hold it there; keep the pressure for a few moments until the blood stops and then we’ll apply the icepack.’
He nodded glumly.
‘You do know,’ she said after a few moments, ‘Meg didn’t actually kill the person.’
He was so numb it took a second or two for her words to register. ‘What? But that’s what Adeline said. And … the internet.’ He’d been so blindsided when he’d seen validation of her words on his computer screen that he hadn’t even read past the headlines. TWO DRUG ADDICTS STEAL ATTENDANT’S LIFE.
He took a breath, and silently berated himself for being so quick to judge without having all the facts.
Tab rolled her eyes. ‘Of course Adeline would say that. She’ll do and say anything to break you and Meg up. She’s been planning her wedding to you since the day Leah was killed, if not before. But, according to the news articles, Meg pleaded not guilty. Does she really seem the type of person to kill someone? She crochets tea-cosies—not really a bad-girl thing to do.’
‘Just because she pleaded not guilty,’ he said, wincing a little at the pain in his hand, ‘doesn’t mean she didn’t do it. Most violent criminals will plead that way if they think they can get away with it, but people aren’t convicted of murder for no reason.’
He shook his head, unable to believe they were even having a conversation about this. Less than an hour ago he’d been high as a kite on new love, now …
How quickly things could derail.
‘She wasn’t convicted of murder,’ Tab continued. ‘Did you not read any of the articles properly? She was convicted of armed robbery, even though her prints weren’t on the gun. She said she had no idea her boyfriend was armed when they went into that deli. It was her word against his and he said it was her idea. She also got made an example of because her granddad was a supreme court judge and the courts couldn’t be seen to be playing favourites.’
‘Her grandfather was a supreme court judge?’ It was a rhetorical question and Lawson didn’t wait for Tab to respond before he said, ‘Did the articles mention her drug addiction?’
‘Yes.’ Tab nodded, then frowned. ‘I must admit that shocked me—she wouldn’t even have a glass of wine when she was here. I know you can’t believe everything you read in the papers, but a drug addiction would certainly account for the rest.’
‘I knew about the drugs,’ he said. ‘She told me about that—but she failed to mention all the other stuff.’ He hadn’t told Tab: he didn’t want anyone thinking badly of Meg.
‘And the drug thing didn’t bother you?’ she asked, her tone sceptical.
He grimaced. ‘I believed her when she said she’d recovered, but who knows what I believe now.’
She sighed and unwrapped the towel from around his hand. The bleeding had stopped, even though his fist still throbbed.
‘Did she think I’d never find out?’ he almost shouted.
That was the real kicker here. Not what she’d done or supposedly not done, but the fact she’d never trusted him enough to confide in him. When was she planning to tell him she’d been in prison? Even if he believed her innocent—and that was a big if—even if he could recover from her association with someone’s brutal murder, how could he ever trust her completely?
And what was a relationship if it wasn’t built on trust?
Tab pressed an icepack wrapped in a tea-towel against his knuckles. ‘Hold that there for a bit. Let’s go out into the kitchen to finish this discussion. I’ll dish you up some ice-cream.’
He snorted. ‘No offence, sister dear, but right now I feel like something a lot stronger than ice-cream. Even ice-cream as good as yours.’
‘How about a beer then?’
Although he’d have loved the numbness an alcoholic drink could bring, he wasn’t sure whether he’d be able to stop at just one and he didn’t want to be drunk when Ned got home. A much better solution would be to head out to bring in the cows and throw himself into work to try and forget this absolute debacle. He guessed the news would be round town by now—Adeline wasn’t one to be discreet—and he’d be the laughing stock over everyone’s beers tonight, but he hoped in time he’d be able to move on and put this unfortunate liaison behind him.
It’d be back to focusing on the things that truly mattered—Ned, and making sure the dairy didn’t go under.
‘Nah,’ he said, with a shake of his head. ‘I’m gunna go do some work.’
Tab frowned. ‘But Funky and Ethan are handling the milking this arvo, and surely anything else can wait for now.’
‘I’ll call Funky and tell him not to bother.’
Tab opened her mouth but he gave her a look to tell her not to push it.
‘Fine. Go work. But what about Meg?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘What about her?’
‘You were supposed to have picked her up almost an hour ago. She’ll be wondering what’s happened to you. Worrying. You should at least talk to her.’
He thought of his phone languishing somewhere in the backyard. And then he did something he never did—he raised his voice at Tabitha. ‘Don’t tell me what I should and shouldn’t do, okay?’
And he stormed back out of the house.
Chapter Thirty-five
It wasn’t hard to find the Walsh ho
spital. Megan followed the signs off the main street and came to a red-brick building that looked unlike any hospital she’d ever visited. After parking in the small parking lot, she headed towards the entrance where automatic doors peeled back to let her into reception.
The woman behind the desk looked up and smiled. ‘Can I help you?’
‘Yes, thanks. I’m from Rose Hill and my neighbour, Archie …’ Her voice trailed off as realised she had no idea what his surname was. Would they let him see her or even tell her about him because they weren’t related? ‘He’s been brought in in an ambulance and …’
Even before she finished speaking, the receptionist’s eyes narrowed. ‘Oh my gosh: you’re Megan McCormick!’
Her heart squeezed and she swallowed a flood of nausea as terror that someone had finally recognised her scuttled down her spine but she forced herself to speak calmly. ‘I’m Meg, nice to meet you.’
The receptionist didn’t accept the gesture or offer her own name and after a few awkward seconds, Megan withdrew her hand. ‘Who can I talk to about my friend Archie?’
‘The doctor’s in A&E with him now. He won’t be in a room for a while, but you can wait,’ said the woman coolly, pointing to a line of grey plastic chairs off to one side of the tiny reception.
Megan retreated to the furthest chair. She dug her mobile phone out of her bag again and glanced at the screen. Lawson still hadn’t called but she tried not to let that panic her further. There was only one ambulance outside and if he’d had some kind of accident—or Ned or Tabitha had—there’d be another. Wouldn’t there? She pushed his name on her recent calls list and lifted the phone to her ear as she waited for it to start ringing.
Once again, it went straight to voicemail. Dammit. She squeezed her eyes to keep from crying. She was worried about Lawson but she also craved his big strong arms wrapped around her and his deep, soothing voice telling her Archie would be okay. Telling her that everything was going to be okay.
She was about to try Tabitha’s number when the automatic doors peeled open again and she instinctively looked up. Her heart sank as Adeline walked in, her hair tied back in a perfect high ponytail and her face done up as if she’d just stepped off a Broadway stage. Their eyes met.
‘Adeline,’ Megan said, not even bothering to feign a smile.
The other woman pointed her index finger straight at Meg, reminding her of the dream she’d had only a few nights earlier. ‘You’ve got a nerve showing your face in here. You’ve got a nerve showing your face anywhere in this town!’
Everything fell into place. The receptionist suddenly knowing her when no one had this whole time. Lawson not answering her calls. The breath whooshed from her lungs and she knew it was all over.
‘Yes, I know who you are.’ Adeline smiled smugly. ‘I know what you did and Lawson does too. Everyone does. I made sure of that. Walsh is a nice town and we don’t want a killer in our midst.’
She looked up at the receptionist. ‘Do we, Jenny?’
The woman behind the desk shook her head and looked at Megan as if she wasn’t sure whether she should be scared of her.
‘If you think Lawson will have anything to do with you after knowing your involvement in a crime so like Leah’s murder, you must be insane. I think you should leave.’
Adeline’s words confirmed Megan’s worst fears. Lawson wasn’t running late. He hadn’t been in an accident. The reason he hadn’t arrived was because he’d found out what she should have told him the moment she realised they had feelings for each other.
Oh God. Her heart was shrivelling up, but she spoke through clenched teeth. ‘I’m here for my neighbour and I’m not going anywhere!’
‘What?’ Adeline spat. ‘What are you talking about? What neighbour?’
Jenny, the receptionist, piped up. ‘Trish and Doug picked up that old bloke from Rose Hill in the ambulance.’
Adeline screwed up her nose, then shook her head as if she were flustered. ‘Whatever. I’m off to see my great-grandmother. Don’t come near me ever again.’
With pleasure, Megan thought as Adeline stalked off down the corridor to see her murderous relation. She had some nerve acting all high and mighty when she was the great-granddaughter of an actual killer. If only Megan could prove this, it would bring some kind of closure for Eliza and it would have the added bonus of wiping that smug smile of Adeline’s pretty face.
But that was the least of her worries now. Realising she hadn’t breathed since Adeline had opened her mouth, Megan forced herself to inhale and exhale deeply. Then she glanced down at the phone still silent in her hand. The thought of Lawson out there somewhere thinking terrible things about her made her want to run into the street and throw herself in front of a bus. Only there was no public transport in Walsh. And what would happen to Cane, to Archie, if she took such an easy way out? Ending it all or even simply running away was the weak solution and she didn’t want to be that person anymore. Not facing her problems head-on had been what had landed her in this mess in the first place.
If only Lawson would answer his phone, then she could tell him …
What? What on earth could she tell him that would make this right? She didn’t know: all she knew was that she needed to see him. But she couldn’t leave Archie until she knew he was going to be okay.
Frustrated, and fighting tears she didn’t want to cry in front of Jenny, whose eyes she could feel boring into her, Megan picked a magazine off a table between the seats and opened it. When she discovered it was FISHING WA, she didn’t put it down. Going through the motions, she flicked through ancient magazine after ancient magazine, until finally someone approached her.
‘Hello?’
She looked up hesitantly at the tall, dark-skinned man. Whoever he was he’d no doubt heard about her criminal past as well. ‘Are you Meg?’
She nodded, ready for whatever he hit her with.
But instead of harsh words, he smiled warmly and thrust out his hand. ‘I’m Dr Harpreet and I just wanted to let you know your first aid saved Mr Weaver’s life.’
‘You mean Archie?’ she asked as she shook the man’s hand. So that was his surname. Relief flooded her and she couldn’t help grinning despite knowing her secret was out and the peaceful life she’d been hoping for was once again a dream. ‘He’s okay?’
When Dr Harpreet nodded, the tears Megan had been fighting sprang from her eyes.
‘We’ve just settled him into a ward and he’s very groggy, but he’s asking for you. Would you like to come through?’
She nodded. ‘Yes. Yes, please.’ And jumped to her feet, shoving her mobile phone into her bag as she did so.
‘Come on.’ Dr Harpreet touched her arm gently as he led her down the corridor that Adeline had gone down who knows how long earlier. Megan’s tummy quivered a little at the thought of another altercation, but she ignored it and focused on following the doctor.
After a short distance he paused in front of an open door. ‘Here we are,’ he said, gesturing for Megan to go inside. As she stepped into the room, she saw Archie lying on the bed, propped up ever so slightly with pillows. There was some sort of oxygen tank beside him and tubes going into him, but when he saw her, his old weathered face cracked a smile.
‘Oh, Archie,’ she rushed over to him and took his hand in both of hers, careful not to disturb the tubes, ‘never give me a fright like that again!’
‘Don’t cry,’ he said, his voice weak. ‘I told you I can’t handle women and tears.’
His words only made her bawl more. Tears streamed down her face, but she didn’t want to let go of him to wipe them. Her joy on seeing him conscious again was stronger than you’d think it should be after only knowing someone a month, but after the news Adeline had just given her, Megan suspected Archie might be the only friend she had left and she didn’t want to lose another person she cared about.
‘Sorry,’ she whispered, smiling at him.
Neither of them said anything for a few long moments, then he b
roke the silence. ‘Hey, aren’t you supposed to be off on your dirty weekend with that cow-loving fella?’
If her heart didn’t hurt so badly at the thought of Lawson, she’d have laughed. Part of her wanted to confide in Archie about the whole Adeline/Lawson thing but she resisted, not wanting to cause him any further stress. She summoned her best carefree smile. ‘It’s fine. There’ll be other weekends. I’m just so happy you’re okay.’
Archie opened his mouth as if to speak, but the doctor, who Megan had almost forgotten was standing there, got in first. ‘I’d like to keep Mr Weaver in for a couple of days for observation and to run some further tests. Perhaps you could bring him in a change of clothes and some toiletries?’
‘Of course.’
‘I’m not staying here,’ Archie objected, but his voice didn’t hold quite the conviction she thought he meant it to.
‘Yes, you are,’ she told him firmly. ‘You’ll stay as long as the doctor says you need to and you’ll not worry about anything back home. I’ll look after Buster and the chickens and you tell me what you need and I’ll bring it.’
Archie sighed begrudgingly and Megan saw Dr Harpreet smile before retreating.
‘Tell me what the hell happened to get me in here?’ Archie said. ‘The doc reckons I had a heart attack but that can’t be right; I’m fit as a fiddle.’
She squeezed his hand. ‘Try to get some rest,’ she said.
For a brief moment he looked as if he were about to object to this as well, but he closed his eyes and seconds later he was asleep. When a nurse came in to do Archie’s obs, Megan retrieved her hand and whispered she’d be back later with his stuff.
As she left the room and turned into the corridor, she almost ran into Adeline pushing an old woman in a wheelchair. Penelope, she thought, her heart thudding.
This woman is the person who pushed Eliza over the stair railing.
So skinny that her bones were almost sticking out from her paper-thin skin, it was hard to imagine this frail old woman ever having the strength to do such a thing.
Talk of the Town Page 32