‘Maybe it is.’
‘Time for the big guns.’ The grin was there in his voice, and lighting his eyes. ‘Info works both ways with Aunty Hat. She’ll give me the lot in five minutes flat.’
The child standing beside the ruins of her wall smiled. Do it, Janie. You know you want to. Elly laughed before she knew it. ‘All right, Claudius, you win. I’m a GP. I’ve been treating outback people, mostly Indigenous—doing immunisations, eye treatments, wound treatment and basic surgery—for the past couple of years.’
He sat back in his chair, brows lifted. ‘Somehow it doesn’t surprise me. You always roped me in on your critter hunts on the farm, saving the rattiest animals—poor Grandma was—’
Something inside her iced over. ‘My people aren’t animals, nor do they need to be saved. They need basic health care and services, food and family and respect, like any other human being.’
His eyes and mouth pressed shut. Little splotches of red and white appeared on his skin, a patchwork she’d seen often in her years with the Jepson clan. ‘You know I didn’t mean it like that,’ he said, too late.
‘I don’t know,’ she retorted, keeping it low. The tension shimmered in waves, a tangible barrier she’d never known with him when they were kids. Before she came, Sharon the pretty, perfect fiend, and little Janie had lost her beloved Adam. He’d vanished into a world she could only ever view from the outside.
Janie had been the Jepsons’ failed social experiment before she’d even left the hospital after the accident. But all her education and being exposed to the Jepson belief systems and morality hadn’t made her one of them. How could it? The Jepsons’ charity had always been loaded, because it was built on superiority and guilt. No matter what she did, they’d always close the window into their world with a smile, or lock the door when she was a step from opening it.
Which was why Adam’s unwitting betrayal had cut her to the bone. He’d been the only one to see her, to know her, to love her as she was, and he’d walked away. He’d never know, never understand, the hole he’d left inside her, filled with a name. Sharon.
But when he spoke, his voice was rough with hurt. ‘You do know me. I haven’t changed. Give me a chance before you judge me.’
Damn him for still being Claudius—her Adam, deep inside. Why couldn’t he have become like the rest of them, locking those doors and windows of their superior world in her face? Then she could walk away with a clear conscience.
‘I’m here.’
Slowly, he smiled at her, and its uncertainty left her floundering, as jumbled as flotsam from a sinking ship. A few words, a smile, and he’d destroyed her resolve. ‘Stay, Elly,’ he said softly. ‘Don’t go.’
She gave a wordless nod, but the question remained. What was she doing here?
‘I’d love to invite you to stay with us, but Zoe …’ He paused. ‘She’s only four, and bringing strangers home upsets her.’
‘Of course,’ she said, remembering the few times her mother had made friends, and how threatened she’d felt. ‘I’ll be fine at the pub.’
His whole body relaxed, and he smiled at her, the man and the boy tangled inside him. ‘I’ve got reports to finish. If you come back at four, you can show me your red baby, and I’ll take you to meet Zoe. We’ll have dinner at my place. You can tell me about your work. It sounds like a bloody hard job—the travel, the isolation involved.’ He looked at her. ‘You must get lonely.’
‘It is hard, at times.’ She walked to the door, refusing to answer his second observation. ‘I’ll see you later.’
As she passed, he said, ‘Zoe’s rather clingy. She may not like you.’
A hard pain sat in her belly. Poor little Zoe—they were sisters of loss beneath the skin. Elly opened her mouth, but her words weren’t what she wanted to say. ‘Who would understand that better than me, Claudius?’
He didn’t answer. They both knew he didn’t need to.
Jerking to his feet—his marionette movements soothed her with their familiarity—he walked to the door. He held it open for her, a whisper of balm over the unhealed wounds of emptiness inside the little girl who’d never doubted Adam would be there for her for life.
The men in the office looked up as she entered. The Paakantyi brother glanced at Adam and nodded, as if receiving a message. ‘I’ll get the lunches today.’ He smiled as he crossed the room to stand with her. ‘The Rose and Thistle, right? It’s only a few hundred metres from here. Might as well leave the car here, if you’re coming back. I’ll help you with your bags.’
Something about his patter left her off-kilter. Was he always so effortless with strangers? She flicked a glance at Adam. He trusted this man. With an uncomfortable smile, she nodded.
‘So are you here for a holiday, or looking to find a new home?’ the brother asked as they walked down the unpaved footpath toward the hotel.
Though the question was friendly enough, Elly stiffened. Before she could put a civil tongue in her head she had to remind herself a few times that he was a cop, and questions were a way of life for him. ‘Just visiting an old friend.’
‘Rick,’ he reminded her, gently. ‘Or Ricky, if you prefer.’ After a moment’s silence—what a weird thing to say—he went on. Where have you come from? Who are your people?’
Friendly questions. Normal stuff for a brother. He doesn’t mean anything by it. Yet it didn’t feel right; she could sense the burning deep inside this man, the agenda he was trying to keep hidden. ‘I told you already.’
A tiny pause, and though he kept walking, she felt the shadow of the office window again, hovering over her, eclipsing her, though he couldn’t possibly be here yet.
‘I don’t think so,’ Rick said. ‘Who are you trying to protect, Elly? Them, or yourself?’
As surely as she felt the heat of the January day on her skin, she knew this man, a stranger to her until today, was interested in her beyond casual friendship. He wanted something from her … or he just wanted her.
Not again. Never again. ‘Excuse me?’ she said quietly, but with a distinct chill.
A long silence, in reality only a few seconds, but it felt like minutes. ‘My name’s Rick … Elly,’ he repeated. She felt him watching her, the intensity of his need not hidden well enough. The wanting was on him like scent, like his woodsy aftershave.
‘Rick.’ It felt odd on her tongue. Something wrong about it. She wished she knew why.
‘You’re safe with me … Elly. You’re a sister, and I’m Adam’s best friend here. Whatever trouble you’re in, you can trust me to help.’
He kept pausing before naming her. He knew. How could he know, so soon?
The sense of too much held in, the simmering anger and passion beneath—it was screaming from him. Fighting the urge to throw up, she turned and grabbed her bag from him without looking up. ‘Thank you for showing me the way, senior constable. I’ll be fine from here.’
‘I mean it, Elly. You’re safe with me. Whatever you need, I’m here.’
Against her will, her eyes lifted. Rick Mendham was the epitome of what women wanted: tall, dark and with a handsomeness that bordered on pretty with those big, dark-fringed eyes. But, blazing with sincerity, fierce and protective and wanting, he overwhelmed her. ‘Thank you. I … I—’ She stumbled to silence, but he wouldn’t take the hint, and the emotions he kept hidden so imperfectly grew bigger and bigger, another shadow putting her out of the sun. What was it about her that caused this reaction in men? ‘Excuse me.’
She fled down the squeaking, uneven corridor of the pub to reception.
‘I’m so glad you’re here, Dr Lavender.’ From the other side of the desk, the thin man with stooped shoulders and a shock of spiky white hair shook Elly’s hand. ‘It’s a little difficult for me to reach the more remote outlying areas of the upper Murray these days.’
‘I’m glad too, Dr Schumacher.’ She smiled at the white-haired man. In his thin, pale face was the palpable relief of the overworked doctor. Setting up her clinics
, her life’s vocation, settled her nerves like nothing else. And they needed settling now—something about Rick Mendham wouldn’t let go. The intensity, the sense of possession …
Just like Danny.
She willed the thought away. If she let him dominate her thoughts, he’d won, and she might as well give in.
‘How long do you think you can stay?’ Dr Schumacher asked.
She wished she knew the answer to that. After months of this work, she understood the medical staff’s desperate need for help wherever she went. The patter came without difficulty. ‘If you’ll let me know which of the Aboriginal communities are in greatest need, I’ll make the arrangements. Which of them has a resident nurse, and which only has visiting nurses?’
Accepting her subject change, Dr Schumacher let the matter drop, taking what he could get. Even if she visited two outlying towns, it would give him a month’s respite.
From there the discussion grew purely medical. Once a list had been made, and Schumacher had called the nurses for their current reports, Elly stood, shaking his hand again. ‘Please remember to be discreet about my time here, Dr Schumacher. I have reasons for needing my presence to remain under the radar.’
‘Of course, Dr Lavender. Anything you need.’ In the outback, many professionals had their secrets, a past they were running from; it was almost expected. She’d relied on that reputation to help outweigh normal human curiosity. ‘Do you need any of our stock before you head out? Of course, we give our outreach nurses whatever they need, and they escort patients here or to Dubbo by flying ambulance, but—’
She nodded. ‘Of course.’ Invaluable as the outreach nurses were, there were intricate procedures they couldn’t do by law. ‘I’d appreciate it.’
Dr Schumacher offered to take her to the medical storeroom then and there—but Elly shook her head. A female Indigenous doctor stood out like a sore thumb anywhere, but the last thing she needed right now was the bush telegraph working its magic. She handed him a list. ‘I’d prefer for you to collect the stores, and I’ll sign for them at your house in the morning, early.’
Schumacher’s face lit with curiosity, but he only nodded at the unorthodox, almost illegal, request, such was his need for an extra pair of hands. ‘Of course. Call back tomorrow morning, and I’ll have everything ready for you.’
‘Thank you.’ She nodded, and shook his hand.
As she headed out of the hospital, she felt the weight of curious stares from other members of staff, patients and relatives. She didn’t look at any of them, keeping her head down and her shoulders hunched, trying to look shorter. Hopefully they’d think she was a patient. That was a common enough sight. So when the private detectives came sniffing around asking questions, they’d only find out that a new Aboriginal woman was in town, no more. But that was more than enough—and the detectives would come.
Less than a day in Macks Lake, only an hour with Adam, and the walls were already closing in.
CHAPTER
4
Adam thought of Elly without ceasing, unable to sit still or work. The voices grew louder, more intense, until after a brief struggle with his conscience, he dialled his infamous great-aunt’s number.
At the sound of his voice, Aunty Hat cried, ‘Adam, is Janie with you?’
‘She was here an hour ago,’ he said slowly, hating that he wouldn’t need to ask a thing. That this was the first non-duty call he’d made to Aunty Hat since coming to Macks Lake wouldn’t make the slightest difference—his aunt knew she was a pain in the proverbial, and didn’t apologise for it. Her family was her life. And family included Elly, it seemed.
The rushing sound of his great-aunt’s expelled breath came down the line. He could almost smell the soft attar of roses she always wore. ‘Oh, darling, I’m so glad!’
Ding ding ding ding ding… the alarm bells grew louder every second. He didn’t have to be a cop to know Aunty Hat was dying to unload her truckload of worries. ‘She’s in trouble.’
‘I think so. She left her people in Sydney after her residency finished in a city hospital. She joined the Flying Doctors—that was two years ago last December. It was what she’d planned to do since she met her family, you know, dear. She arrived at Moongallee Creek.’ Adam noted down Moongallee Creek. ‘She called a few times saying she loved the job, then she didn’t contact me for a year. When she calls me now, the number always comes up “Unknown ID”, and she won’t leave a forwarding address or number. I called the Flying Doctors clinic at Moongallee. They said she’d only been running the clinic three months, then disappeared without trace. Something’s happened to Janie, Adam, and it frightens me.’
If Elly’s situation scared Aunty Hat, who looked as delicate as Dresden china, had the inquisitive, unshockable nature of Miss Marple and the heart and spirit of a Mallee bull, then it was far worse than he’d even imagined. ‘Why send her to me?’
‘You were so close once, dear. You were her entire world when you were children. I thought she might talk to you. And you’re a policeman. I think … perhaps she might need help in that quarter?’
‘Why didn’t I ever know about her Indigenous background?’ he asked, feeling his way through the tangled labyrinth rising in front of him with each step he took into Elly’s life.
The hesitation was tiny, but noticeable. ‘When we learned her only living family was Aboriginal, we contacted the authorities and offered to keep her—you know, give her a good upbringing. We told everyone she was Italian, and the local people accepted that.’ She spoke simply, with the Jepsons’ old-school, upper-middle-class mentality, the instinctive loathing of anyone who was not of Northern European background. ‘But after you began dating Sharon, Janie barely spoke again, or ate. After your wedding, she sat in her tree day and night, only coming down to tend her animals. She grew thin and ill, pining for you so badly we feared for her. We contacted her father’s family in Sydney. Her father had died years before, but we hoped she’d find a new friend among her own people.’
Shame ripped through his gut. He could see her: his poor, lost wild child sitting alone in her tree, mourning his loss while he made a life without her. Little, forgotten Elly. At fourteen, she’d lost her childhood, and the only friend who understood her. What kind of friend had he been, to push Elly from his life?
‘You should have called me!’
‘We offered to while she was up the tree, dear—just before you came back from your honeymoon. She disappeared for two days. We gathered that meant no.’ The silence was more delicate this time. ‘Janie was such a sensitive child, Adam. I think she wanted you to remember her without our prompting you … and she must have felt Sharon’s dislike of her. It was fairly obvious to us all.’
He sighed, remembering Sharon’s amused words when he’d first suggested Elly visit them in the city. I wouldn’t know what to do with her while you’re at work. There aren’t enough trees to climb into around here. And every time he’d suggested it, Sharon had had a reason, another excuse, until her light-hearted contempt became accusations and near-hysteria, and he’d stopped mentioning Elly. No one in the family wanted him to keep the friendship going, least of all his delicate, upper-middle-class, prejudiced wife.
He blinked, realising that for the first time in over three years he’d thought of his wife’s name without—
And there it came, the anchor dragging him down into the depths. The soft angel’s voice, absolving him even as she lay dying: It wasn’t your fault, Adam … it’s who you are.
His voice curt, he thanked his aunt, promised he’d call her with updates, and hung up. Before him, the computer monitor went into screensaver mode. COPS rolled across the screen.
Yeah, it is who you are.
And that made temptation too strong to resist. His heart and gut told him Elly would be on the COPS database, that she was someone’s case file. With two fingers, he typed in ‘Moongallee Creek’, with the date set to two years ago.
The first revelation was sickening enough to mak
e him close his eyes. Oh, Elly …
And the updates on the case not only told him his every screaming nerve was right, but that he had to get Rick in on this case, the entire station, Public Operations and Police Affairs—not to mention bringing in detectives with emotional distance—before all hell broke loose.
He snatched up the phone and dialled a number in Western Australia.
‘Mackleton Police Service, can you hold?’ said a terrified-excited young female voice down the line—and Adam knew, even before he was taken off hold, that all hell was already coming for them.
Mackleton Minimum Security Prison, Western Australia
It was almost time.
Crouched behind sacks holding laundered sheets and blankets, he waited.
Where is she now? How many men are looking at her? Is she … tempted? If any man dares touch her—
She doesn’t want it, fool, he told that stupid voice in his head, the violent one he hated. She’s so innocent, so caring—
And so alone, the voice said, softly. The kind of woman men will take advantage of, leaving her sad and bleeding. She needs protection, even from herself. She gives too much. She needs a quiet life.
He clamped down on the sound of the voice that his shrink had told him wasn’t healthy to listen to. Anyway, in thirty-six minutes he’d begin his plans. Trusting no one on the inside to help get him out, he’d crafted his tiny masterpieces with painstaking care within twelve days of sentencing. This time, he’d make her understand … he wouldn’t frighten her.
That voice, the one he didn’t like, had led him a bit too far. Janie didn’t yet understand the beauty of what he’d done. Next time he wouldn’t listen to that other one—and he wouldn’t touch her until she was ready. He’d go slow and gentle, show her he’d take care of her for the rest of their lives.
Why had he never fully realised how innocent she was? Smart, to have a house with a panic button—she needed the protection—but she’d pushed it before she’d realised who he was, and when the sirens wailed and lights flashed half an hour later, he’d had nowhere to run. When he’d tried to make her understand that he’d come to save her from the world and all the people who were using her, she’d knocked him senseless and run out to the police.
Beneath the Skin Page 4