Beneath the Skin

by Melissa James

  ‘You play with her. I’ll get it.’ Elly bolted to the old-fashioned green wall phone that went with the old house, panelled walls and second-hand furniture Adam had bought with the place.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Harlot!’

  The harsh whisper, with that awful warped tone of the electronically scrambled voice, made her gasp.

  ‘Delilah. Jezebel. Dark-skinned whore. We don’t like women like you in our town.’

  ‘Who is this?’ she demanded, willing away the twisting knife. You’ll never be one of us.

  ‘I hear there was an accident at the police station today. Detective Sergeant Jepson and Constable Dobbins were injured. Leave Macks Lake before someone really gets hurt. Find one of your own men, and stay away from ours.’

  She dropped the phone. It bounced against the wall as she covered her mouth with a hand.

  ‘Elly?’

  Blindly she turned from Adam to the wall, huddling against it.

  ‘Who was that?’

  When she remained averted, and silent, he snapped, ‘What did they say?’

  ‘An obscene phone call.’ She tried to laugh. ‘These nuts follow me everywhere. I attract ’em like magnets.’

  ‘Elly.’ His tone of voice told her he was in no mood to laugh away her problems.

  ‘They called me a harlot, Jezebel, a dark-skinned whore. They said to get out of town before someone else got hurt.’ She couldn’t make herself say the rest.

  ‘Male or female?’ he said, sounding official. Still the distance: her Adam would have known not to push. But this man—

  She shrugged. ‘I couldn’t tell. They used one of those voice-scrambler things. It had Private Caller on the ID.’

  He hung up the receiver, still bouncing against the wall. ‘I can still get it traced. Do you think it was him?’

  ‘It could have been.’ She shivered. ‘He uses those old-fashioned words—whore, strumpet, harlot—like his grandfather. If he thinks I’m with you—’

  ‘He could be trying to scare you, pretending to judge you to get you out of town, and get you alone.’ Adam’s curse, too soft for Zoe to hear, ripped the warmth of the summer night. ‘That’s it. I’m not going. You and Zoe can’t be left alone.’

  She nodded, sighing. ‘I don’t think I could stand to be alone tonight.’

  He lifted her face. ‘You’re not alone, Elly. I’m with you. Remember that.’

  One touch, a hand on her face, and the air around them stilled.

  She used the tip of her tongue to moisten her dry lips, hoping he wouldn’t see the pulse pounding in her throat.

  He let out a quiet groan, watching the motion. ‘Elly, don’t do this to me. We’re not kids now.’

  Something in her died with his words. ‘So I’m doing this. I’m forcing you.’

  ‘I didn’t mean that.’

  She looked at him. ‘Didn’t you? I think you did. Who talked to you today? Who made you guilty? Who made you remember?’ She’d expected it, the freezing of him. Cold as the grave she was in, his turbulent ghost.

  ‘Sailing, sailing, sailing on the sea … gunna catch a fish, and make a wish, for my daddy and me!’ Zoe’s lilting voice hovered in the air, sweet and childish, shattering all that was and wasn’t there.

  He sighed. ‘Oh, damn it.’

  She only nodded. So much unsaid between them: a black hole that could only close with a name. But it wasn’t her name to speak.

  His eyes burned. ‘You wouldn’t stay in Macks Lake even if we caught him.’

  ‘You wouldn’t want me to.’

  ‘You have to stop. It’s no good for either of us.’

  ‘So it’s me again.I have to stop. This is all my fault.’ Bitterness filled her. ‘The bad girl corrupting the good Jepson. It’s that black and white—literally.’

  ‘No, damn it, it isn’t like that, and you know it. Stop the wilful misinterpretations.’

  Her whole body stiffened. ‘Sorry, Uncle Stephen.’

  His eyes blazed. ‘I am not my father!’

  With shaking shoulders, sick to her stomach, she gave a pitiful attempt at a shrug. ‘Aren’t you? Isn’t that what you’re trying to be now?’

  ‘Stop it,’ he hissed, his eyes still smouldering. ‘You’re trying to distance me.’

  She laughed, a sad and bitter thing. ‘Just following your lead, detective sergeant.’

  ‘I’m not—’

  ‘Lie to yourself if you want. I treasure what we used to be too much to lie to you.’

  The flame burned out, leaving his eyes hollow. ‘Used to be. So you’re putting an end to it.’

  ‘As I said, I’m just following your lead. I’m accepting this is what you want. If you’d stop putting the blame on me for your fears, I’d be grateful.’

  He stilled, searching her face. Another moment of dancing on a blade-edge of recognition; then it died. ‘You’re here for my protection and help, and I’m helping you for the sake of old friendship. Let’s leave it at that.’

  She looked away. ‘I think I should go back to the Rose and Thistle.’

  ‘You said you wouldn’t leave. You promised.’

  ‘But you never promised me anything, did you?’ She pressed her lips together to keep herself from saying any more, but the truth tumbled out anyway. ‘I can’t go on this seesaw with you, up one moment, down the next.’

  ‘So now it’s my fault,’ he said. ‘You come back into my life, change me and expect me not to be confused? You expect me to know what I feel in less than two days. You’re my childhood friend one moment, then the next you look at me like you’d die to have me.’

  And though he couched it as half-sarcastic insult, he’d spoken the reality of all her dreams like a release of rushing water from a swollen dam.

  ‘I would,’ she said, not daring to look at him. ‘I would die to have you, even if it’s only once.’

  ‘Damn it, don’t talk to me like that, or I’ll do something we’ll both regret.’ But he didn’t move, didn’t turn away.

  ‘You might regret it. I won’t.’ She’d gone as far as she dared. Looking up at last, she saw him fighting his need. Wishing, hoping, he’d drop his barriers, take that step, move that inch.

  ‘Learn.’ The want and the forbidden warred in eyes. ‘You’d better back off now, or believe me, you’ll sure as hell regret it later.’

  ‘So you know my mind—or is it yours?’ she taunted. ‘Worried what the relatives and friends will think? It’s a big risk, being with me—and risks are something you haven’t been good at in the past.’

  ‘I don’t give a damn about your Aboriginal background, if that’s what you mean. But take this as a warning—I’m no damn good at relationships, or with women.’

  Her brows furrowed at the revelation flung at her like a gauntlet. ‘But you were married for nine years.’

  ‘Yeah, I was, wasn’t I.’ It wasn’t a question. His eyes cold as a winter sea, he punched numbers into his phone. ‘Hey, Rick, Elly had a threatening phone call. I have to interview Mrs Collins, and Elly shouldn’t be alone … Yeah. Thanks, mate, I owe you one.’ He didn’t look at her as he hung up.

  ‘Rick?’ she whispered, a brick falling in her stomach. Her heart hurt with its pounding. ‘You called Rick to stay with me?’

  ‘You don’t know him.’ He still wouldn’t look at her. Yes, he knew he’d just done the unforgivable. ‘I know he’s intense, but Rick will take care of you.’

  ‘You gave me no choice,’ she said slowly. ‘I told you I wanted him off the case. I told you he scares me!’

  ‘It’s best for you. He’s one of your people.’

  The pain was too familiar. ‘Aren’t you … one of mine?’ she asked with a sad little catch in her voice.

  ‘You shouldn’t have to ask. You know I am. I always was.’

  ‘Not while Sharon was alive to stop you.’

  He lifted her face, hands gentle, his eyes blazing. ‘Stop it. Stop talking about her. Don’t think about her. Don’t say h
er name!’

  Something inside her cringed beneath the force of his unhealed emotion.

  Moments later his bedroom door closed with a quiet click that told a stronger story than a mighty crash. The dead were still living.

  ‘Annelly, I think something’s burning, and I’m bery hungry.’

  She returned to Zoe, leaving Adam alone with his ghosts.

  CHAPTER

  10

  ‘Uncle Rick!’

  Laughing, Rick caught the flying blur in his arms as he came through the front door, lifting her onto his hip. Zoe snuggled into Rick’s strong brown neck, arms around him tight enough to choke. ‘Let’s play Barbies. Daddy got me the tea-party set he promised!’

  ‘Thanks, Daddy.’ Rick’s face was one big comical grimace. ‘I think Daddy needs to buy a Ken dolly for me.’

  ‘Yeah!’ Zoe cried. ‘I’ll tell Daddy, and then we can play all the time! Our dollies can get married, just like us!’

  ‘Yay!’ Rick’s face softened as Zoe gave his cheek a smacking kiss.

  Elly smiled. Somehow his relationship with the little girl eased her fears. If a four-year-old wasn’t intimidated by him, if he could play Barbies with a small, motherless girl, then he couldn’t be as frightening as she’d thought. ‘It looks like Zoe has a hero.’

  ‘Fiancé, thank you,’ he corrected her, dark eyes twinkling. ‘We’re getting married when she’s sixteen, just like Ariel and Eric in The Little Mermaid.’

  ‘Uncle Rick’s my boyfriend,’ Zoe informed her smugly. ‘He looks just like Prince Eric!’

  ‘You’re right, Zoe. He is like Prince Eric, with darker eyes.’ Hoping she was wrong about Adam’s best friend, Elly grinned. ‘Congratulations, brother. You’ve found yourself a wife.’

  A friendly remark, with no guile, yet Rick’s smile faded. ‘I’m glad you think so … sister.’ His voice was even, his gaze unemotional, but still she felt all he was holding inside.

  ‘Zoe’s waiting for you,’ she said, turning away. She had files to read on the people she needed to visit tomorrow.

  After he’d played Barbies with Zoe to her heart’s content and read her stories until she was blissfully asleep, he cornered Elly in the kitchen.

  ‘So tell me about the threatening call tonight, Jane Ann Larkins.’

  She dropped a plate as she whirled to face him. ‘How—?’

  He picked up the shards of the broken plate. ‘Oh, come on.’

  ‘The network,’ she said, voice flat.

  He shrugged. ‘It wasn’t hard. Ain’t that many Koori lady doctors around. I called your people in La Perouse, identifying myself, and they told me their worries.’ His glance at her was cool, accusing. ‘They’re glad to know you’re alive, by the way.’

  Her eyes flashed. ‘How dare you pry into my private life! Did you tell them where I was?’

  He dropped the shards into the trash, then turned to her. ‘I know more about you than you think. You’ve held off from your people since you landed on their doorstep. You don’t know our rules. You’re playing whitefella beneath the skin.’ His burning gaze blistered her. ‘You patch our people’s cuts, but don’t tell them your name. Your grandmother is still wondering what she’s done to deserve your leaving without trace after years of care and support. You play on the loyalty you know our people will give, but give none yourself.’

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘You know nothing about me.’

  ‘I know a lot more than you think,’ he said in a way that left her shaking with uncertainty.

  ‘What, because of our shared heritage?’

  He touched her chin, fingers curving around it. ‘You don’t believe that can happen?’

  Her eyes blazed as she pulled out of his hold. ‘Don’t touch me. I didn’t give you permission to touch me.’

  His hand fell slowly.

  ‘Like I said, you know nothing of me, personally.’ More disturbed by his words than she wanted to admit, she mumbled, ‘I wanted to protect my family. If he goes to them …’

  His brow lifted. ‘You mean Danny Spencer, Janie?’

  She shuddered. ‘Don’t call me that. I’m Elly now.’

  ‘I’ll call you Elly if you promise to stop shutting me out.’ He didn’t touch her, but stepped closer. ‘You turn to whitefellas for help when I’m right here. Look at me, Janie, and understand the truth. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you. That’s why I became an outback cop. It’s why I came to Macks Lake in the first place. I’m here for you. Give me the loyalty. Don’t turn to the wrong man.’

  ‘The wrong man?’ She used her coldest tone, the barrier that brought most men to a stammering halt.

  But Rick didn’t even hesitate. ‘A man so drowned in guilt he can’t see you beyond childhood memories. A man so locked in the past he has no future to give you beyond a few hours in bed,’ he retorted, finding her most vulnerable spot with unerring accuracy. ‘Don’t turn your back on your own people, Elly. I’m here for you.’

  ‘You don’t know me. You only met me yesterday.’ She pushed him away with a hard laugh. ‘A similar heritage gives you nothing. I didn’t even know of my Aboriginal background until I was fifteen. My mother never told me, and the Jepsons sure as hell didn’t. I thought my father was from Italy, and my mum never once told me where she was from.’

  ‘When you found out the truth, did you hide it?’

  She didn’t answer.

  ‘Exactly. Stop trying to bluff me, Elly. You’re Koori, heart and soul, just like me.’

  ‘You’re not Koori, you’re Paakantyi.’

  ‘Semantics. It’s just a name for the area we come from, but we both are what we are. You wouldn’t be helping our people out here otherwise. Just like I’m out here as a cop.’ He sighed, but kept his distance. ‘Look, Adam’s the best mate I’ve ever had. He’s a great guy—one of the best—but he’ll never be yours until he can stop torturing himself over his wife and son’s deaths. You’re a beautiful, special woman—too special to wait for disappointment.’

  Was he speaking from a racial perspective, or did something more elemental, dark and primitive lurk beneath his veiled warning?

  ‘Tell me what’s going on, Elly. Trust me,’ he said very quietly, eyes sincere. So handsome, so masculine, yet all she felt was dread. He’d keep digging until he knew the truth … and his digging could leave someone dead.

  ‘No,’ she said, just as quiet, just as sincere. ‘I don’t want you. I don’t need you.’

  He sighed. ‘One day you’ll regret saying all this. One day, you’re going to love me.’

  They were the same words Danny had used the first time she’d rejected him, and panic filled her. ‘It’s time you left,’ she hissed.

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  They whirled around. Adam stood in the doorway, legs splayed, arms folded, face grim and cold as he watched them. He looked like he wanted Rick to leave—in an ambulance. He moved forward and put a casual arm on the kitchen counter, a barrier between her and Rick.

  ‘I’m here now, mate. Thanks so much for coming.’

  Rick stood his ground for a moment. Then he took a slow step back, a challenge in his eyes. ‘You’re welcome.’ Said with the same sarcastic politeness with which Adam had thanked him.

  Elly hated herself. What was it about her? She’d said and done nothing to encourage Rick in any way, yet she was coming between friends.

  ‘We got the trace back on the call tonight. It came from a burner phone bought months ago in Mildura. Mildura police interviewed the owner of the store this afternoon. He doesn’t remember the buyer, but records show they paid cash,’ Adam informed them in a tight voice, before Rick reached the door. ‘And you were right about the shot, Rick. It was a steel ball, but shot from a BB gun. Sydney says Spencer can’t be here, so both the shot and the tyre slashing are being dismissed as a kid’s prank. Backup’s still not scheduled to arrive until Monday.’

  Elly frowned at Adam. ‘Weren’t you with Mrs Collins?’

  He shrugged. ‘I la
sted an hour. If she had information for us, she wasn’t giving it away.’

  ‘What was she giving away?’ Rick murmured.

  Adam looked at Elly, and she knew he’d seen it, the little flinch she tried so hard to hide. ‘Nothing I was tempted to take.’

  ‘Not for her want of trying, I’ll bet.’

  He shrugged. ‘I learned something tonight: there’s things you can’t force or change, no matter how hard you want it—or don’t want it. Some things just are.’

  Their eyes locked.

  ‘Thanks for coming, Rick,’ he murmured, his gaze still on Elly. ‘I appreciate it. See you in the morning.’

  Rick held his ground, but spoke gently. ‘Elly, please, just think about what I said.’

  ‘I will.’ She was still looking at Adam, quiet hunger rising inside her once more. ‘Thank you for coming, Rick.’

  Rick stalked out in silence, closing the door behind him with care.

  ‘So you gained nothing?’ she asked, still staring at Adam. Unable to look away. ‘Has she got an alibi for either incident?’

  He shrugged. ‘She left the station just before the shot. She was alone in her car. But a few witnesses have stated they saw her car at least eight blocks from the station when they heard the shot.’

  ‘Could she have done it?’

  ‘It’ll be hard to pin on her. She’s never owned a firearm. Apart from the litany of false complaints she’s made since I came here, all she has is a couple of speeding tickets. Her methods are nagging and emotional blackmail. She hasn’t come to my house, or done more than try to gain my attention at the station or the grocery store.’

  She sighed, feeling torn.

  ‘There’s something you haven’t told me.’

  ‘No,’ she answered far too quickly, shutting him out.

  He moved closer, tilting up her face, as Rick had done a minute ago, but she felt no disdain now, no furious rejection, only a wild sort of helplessness.

  ‘Are you attracted to Rick?’

  The lovely feeling died. She jerked her head away from his hand, her voice cold as a winter night. ‘What business is it of yours?’

  A pause pregnant with a hundred unspoken thoughts. ‘Can’t old friends ask personal questions of each other?’