And I felt a tear slowly track down my cheek as she told me, "Girl's can do anything, eh Mummy?"
"Yes, Daisy," I murmured, as we turned onto the path that led to our front door. "And one day you'll be the foremost scientist to work with Antarctic penguins," I promised, and prayed that was a promise I could keep.
My hand reached out with my front door key, to slip it inside the lock. But I stilled. My heart seized, my breaths all left me, and my grip on Daisy's hand obviously became painful.
"Mummy!" she complained in a loud child-like high-pitched voice. An answering crash sounded out through the crack of the opened flat door.
I was frozen to the spot, knowing I needed to move. Not knowing how to achieve that.
When there was clearly someone uninvited inside our home.
Chapter 3
Even If I Had No Fucking Idea How To Achieve That
"Mummy?" Daisy asked, hearing the strange noises coming from inside our flat. "Who's that?"
I shook my head, panting for breath, and heard the sound of footfalls approaching on the other side of the partially closed door.
Run.
"Mummy?" Daisy sounded uncertain. Frightened. Either she was an intuitive five year old, aware the person getting closer was not a friend. Or, she was picking up on my immobile panicked state and appropriately scared because of it.
Her little hand tugged on my larger one to get my attention and that was all it took to break the spell.
I spun on my heel and started to run, sweeping Daisy up in my arms before we'd made it to the end of the path. The door to the apartment banged open, frosted glass shattering in the frame from the force the person had used to thrust it back. Probably hoping to catch me off guard and incapacitate me at the same time.
I cast a glance over my shoulder, knowing I didn't have time to look, but doing it anyway. Unable to stop myself from seeing the face of our pursuer. I needed to know who McLaren had sent. I needed to know if I remembered them. If I had something I could barter with them should they catch up.
I didn't recognise the flat features and stringy shoulder length brown hair. But I recognised the tattoos snaking up his neck, wrapping around his jaw and swirling across his left cheek. McLaren's security wore facial tattoos like that. There was no denying this man thundering down the street behind us, was one of the drug lord's goons.
A whimper escaped my lips, matched in wretchedness by Daisy's own. Bless her, but she didn't say a word. She clung to me, tiny arms wrapped around my neck, legs wrapped around my waist, and kept her face hidden into my chest.
My lungs were fit to burst, my heart was about to explode from my chest and my head ached with all the images of what this man could do to us. Could do to Daisy. Because Roan McLaren was an evil man who would harm a child to make sure I never told anyone what I know.
But I hadn't. I hadn't even caved when faced with the inquisitiveness and determination of a CIB cop. Not that I was going to stop long enough to explain this to the hulk of a man hot on our tails. Any moment now I expected to hear the burst of gunfire from his gun. Or feel the clamp of his steel-like fingers on my shoulder. Or the squeal of his accomplice's tyres as their car cut off our path.
But none of those things happened. McLaren had sent one man after me, maybe thinking I was at work and he could find what they needed at my home. Maybe thinking I was waylaid with Detective Pierce and he could search uninterrupted. Maybe not even aware until he broke into our flat that I had a daughter at all.
I frowned at that thought, as I ducked down a side street I knew would take us out onto the more populated Ponsonby Road. For over five years McLaren had let me be. He'd exacted the price for my crime against him. His warped sense of justice had allowed him to let me walk free, having witnessed my husband's murder because of me. McLaren would have enjoyed the idea that I suffered daily with visions of how and why Rick died. To him that was just. In his world it was as good as an eye for an eye.
I took something precious from him. McLaren took something precious from me.
But now, all of a sudden, one of his men turns up at my door. Why now? Because he's been arrested and he's suddenly calling in marks? Or because I was approached by Detective Pierce?
A crash sounded out behind us. A quick glance let me know the tattooed freak was still chasing us, but had collided with someone's trash on the sidewalk, tripping him up and giving us a modicum of increased distance from our pursuer.
"Faster, Mummy," Daisy murmured against the sweaty skin on my neck. "He's running funny."
"Limping," I corrected out of habit.
I didn't get the standard roll of her eyes in reply, she'd tucked her head back into the crease of my neck. Out of sight, out of mind.
"Not long now, Daisy-girl," I whispered, hoping my words sounded convincing to younger ears.
I spotted a bus slowing ahead, navigating traffic in an effort to pull to the side of the road. It was still fifty feet away, but I saw the opportunity it presented and dug deep, adding a spurt of speed from God knows where. My legs ached, my arms ached, my chest and head ached. Even my vision began to blur.
God, please. Please. Let me make it. The bus stopped, the side doors sprang open and two people stepped off.
Twenty feet.
One old lady with too many shopping bags hauled herself up the first step. I glanced over my shoulder and caught sight of McLaren's man within ten feet of us. I yelped. He was practically within reaching distance. My face spun forward in time to see a bicycle jump the footpath just before my eyes, but not in time to stop our collision.
Someone yelled out a warning. The bus doors slammed closed. And Daisy, the cyclist and myself came crashing down onto the hard concrete ground. The world spun as we went head over feet, my shoulder slamming into the side of the cyclist's helmet, my knee jarring painfully against the spokes of his bike's wheels. My grip on Daisy was yanked free as a scream tore from my throat.
No!
The sound of my daughter's agony and shock fractured my heart in two. I scrambled over the tangle of metal that was left of the cyclist's bike. I ignored his sprawled form on the footpath and pushed well meaning bystanders aside as I fell to my knees next to Daisy.
A young twenty-something man sat shocked and grazed with my daughter in his arms. People were congratulating him on his quick reflexes, a waiter from a nearby restaurant came out with white towels and a bag of ice. Someone dug their cellphone out to dial an ambulance. Questions about our welfare were being asked, as the young man handed a crying Daisy over to me.
While I whispered words of love and checked her with my hands for injuries, my eyes darted about the footpath behind us. The tattooed man had disappeared from sight, but that did not mean he'd gone.
As we'd made it to Ponsonby Road the crowd which had gathered was quite substantial. The fact that the guy who caught Daisy had been aware enough to act in time, meant that others had seen what had happened too. Several people were talking about the thug who had been chasing us. Within seconds of clasping Daisy to my chest the questions started.
"Was he a mugger?"
"Did he hurt you?"
"What did he want?"
"Is she your daughter?"
"Someone should call the Police."
I stood immediately, righting myself as soon as my injured knee gave out, and stared at all the well meaning onlookers with pure dread in my veins. I licked my lips, searching for some reasonable excuse to offer up.
"Take it easy," someone said off to my side and I jumped. Backing away from the concerned look in a businessman's eyes. "You and the girl need to be checked out."
I shook my head, gripped Daisy tighter. No one was taking my daughter from me. No one.
"I..I've got to go," I stammered.
"Calm down," another person said, this time a middle aged woman. "You're safe now. An ambulance is on the way. Let them treat your daughter."
"She's fine," I insisted. But even I could hear that Daisy was still cry
ing.
"I'm sure she is," the woman cajoled. "But wouldn't it be best if she was seen to by professionals?"
I couldn't think. I couldn't form a coherent sentence. I was working on pure adrenaline. Fight or flight. And I sure as hell wanted to flee. I moved a few inches further away from the crowd, a restaurant window at my back. For all the experience I had at schooling my features, at hiding my fear behind a confident and icy exterior, I was completely unprepared for this. This depth of fear from holding a tearful Daisy in my arms after running for our lives from an assailant.
Part of me knew an ambulance was safe. Getting Daisy checked out made sense. But the part of me that had just relived a night over five years ago was unable to make that connection cleanly. Unable to banish the sound of the gun being fired. The image of the muzzle flaring bright orange in the still, dark night air. Unable to stop my reaction to the blood and brain matter that splattered my face, ran down my chin, and dripped under the edge of my blouse's collar.
And going to the hospital would mean more questions I couldn't answer, which in turn would mean inevitable involvement by the Police. Which I could not allow.
No, we needed to run. To hide. To think of a plan. We couldn't leave the country without our passports. And I wouldn't return to my house to collect them until I knew Daisy was somewhere safe. But right now I couldn't formulate a plan, all I could do was get us out of here.
My eyes scanned the street. Took in the conscious, but clearly grazed and battered form of the cyclist, the cautious, curious, but concerned looks from the bystanders. And a restaurant waiter holding a cup of brightly coloured flavoured ice. The kind of drink they serve children, chocked full of food colouring and artificial flavours. His eyes met mine and he held the cup out, clearly having got it for Daisy.
I offered a weak smile and wrapped a shaky hand around the base of the drink. The movement making the crowd gathered relax as one. The crazy woman was tending to her child at last, maybe things would settle down after all. I nodded my thanks and shifted Daisy on my hip, feeling every movement acutely. As soon as she saw the treat she stopped snivelling and started inhaling ice crystals instead.
"Have you got a bathroom we can use?" I asked the waiter.
"Sure," he replied, as someone else said, "The ambulance will be here soon."
"Tell them to come in to see us inside," I ordered confidently, grabbing my shield and wrapping it around me. I didn't wait for an argument, just followed the waiter into the restaurant itself.
As expected the toilet the waiter led us to was out the back of the business. Right next to the kitchen. Which I was praying had a back door.
He ushered us into the little stall and said he'd keep an eye out for the ambulance out the front. I allowed him to close the door behind us, and in case he was waiting to hear it, I flicked the lock. Trembling I sat down on the toilet seat and shifted Daisy to get a good look.
"Daisy-girl, we don't have much time. Tell Mummy where it hurts."
She made a loud sucking sound as she inhaled the last of the coloured slush up the straw and smacked her lips enthusiastically.
"Just my shoulder," she finally replied, pointing to her right hand side.
I felt around carefully, but when she didn't tense up, decided the injury must only be minor. Mine on the other hand hurt like fuck.
"OK, baby. You sit here, I'll quickly brush myself off, and then we've got to go."
"Go where?" she asked, as I pulled several paper towels from the dispenser on the wall.
"Go from here," I replied.
"But where to?" she insisted, as I began wetting towels and delicately washing gravel out of open grazes. I winced, but didn't stop cleaning myself up.
"Somewhere new," I said, as I chucked the bloodied paper into the bin in the corner. I glanced up at my face in the mirror and blanched at the size of my eyes and shadows beneath them.
"Kelly Tarlton's?" Daisy asked excitedly, the chase and consequent fall all but forgotten.
Well, what the hell. "Yes," I agreed. "Kelly Tarlton's. But we've got to sneak out the back, so we make it before they lock the doors on the Aquarium, OK?"
"OK, Mummy," she chirped, slipping off the toilet seat and crossing to the door, ready for the next adventure to occur. I shook my head, but found myself miraculously smiling. If only my life were as simple as the next aquarium visit.
We ducked out of the toilet and slipped into the kitchen. The chefs were all busy, but noticed us as soon as we entered the room.
"Can I help?" one guy in a white outfit with extra large white chef's hat asked.
"My daughter's sick, she needs some fresh air," I offered, keeping Daisy’s face planted into my neck with a well placed palm on the back of her head. "Can we slip out your back door, there's a fuss out the front on the footpath."
The chef grunted, but pointed to a mesh covered door at the back. "Half our meals are going cold because of it," he grumbled, clearly sympathising with us about our need to go out the back and not the front.
The door clanged shut behind us, but I was already at the end of the alley. Luck proved our friend, as a taxi was just clearing its latest passenger on the side of the street. I slipped into the rear with Daisy before the customer had finished paying.
Five minutes later we were miles away from Ponsonby Road and the flashing lights that had appeared there from the ambulance and police vehicles parked in front of the restaurant. I sank back into the plastic covered seat of the cab and let a slow, long breath of air out.
Home was out. The goon would return there waiting for me.
Work was out. My guess was McLaren sent his man because of my morning visit from Detective Pierce. Heading back to the office was impossible now.
Daisy's after school carer was out. McLaren knew about Daisy now, he'd chase down every lead. I contemplated warning Zoey, Daisy's babysitter, but the less she knew the better, and if she appeared innocent, they'd leave her alone.
Who, or where, did that leave?
I suddenly realised how isolated I'd let myself become. Being a single parent I'd had to rely on others from time to time, but coming from where I had come from, I had limited that circle of helpers severely. Even though I had no one to turn to now, I was grateful that I had kept our circle small. The less people who knew about us, the better it was for them.
The taxi pulled up outside Kelly Tarlton's Aquarium on Tamaki Drive. I paid with cash and slipped out after Daisy, who was practically running to the front doors of the building. Her pigtails flying, a skip in her step. I noticed we'd lost her backpack somewhere along the way. Hell, we'd probably lost it on our front doorstep, I don't remember her school bag after running for our lives. But I had my handbag, some cash and my bank cards.
The movies always make out that you shouldn't use your electronic cards when hiding. Which made me think of my cellphone. As we queued up in the short midday line for entry, I reached inside my bag and thumbed my phone off. There was no one to call me anyway.
I felt my nerves untangle the deeper we went underground. As the lights dimmed and the piped artificial sound of aquatic animals filled the air, I let a little more of the tension go. We could spend a few hours here, grab a bite to eat, stay out of sight, and then I'd find us a motel to stay in. Of course finding one that would accept cash and not credit cards would mean we'd have to travel further out of the CBD. And to do that I'd need to withdraw cash from an ATM, which I considered would be safe if it was in an area I didn't stay in.
All of these thoughts were spinning through my head, but as my daughter laughed at the sharks swimming above us in the glass tunnel, and pointed out each exciting new creature that she could identify by name, I told myself that it would all work out somehow.
Because it had to. Because there was no other choice than to keep Daisy safe. Because my daughter was not going to pay for the mistakes I made all those years ago. For the mistakes both Rick and I made before we even knew Daisy was our future.
I sat i
n the Aquarium cafeteria, watching Daisy eat a burger and fries, listening to the non-stop excited chatter she made, and just breathed. For a small moment in time I just breathed. When we walked out of the doors into the sunshine the worry and fear would start all over again. For now I could believe we were safe. Just like we were safe yesterday and the day before. Just like we were safe this morning, before we were visited by a CIB cop.
My hand slipped into my bag and sought out his business card. Detective Sergeant Ryan Pierce, it said. Criminal Investigations Bureau, Auckland City Police Department. My thumb traced his direct dial number, his cellphone number and then I flipped the card over in my hand.
Sweet Seduction on High Street. Genevieve Cain.
I glanced up at Daisy who had finished her meal and wandered over to the nearby open fish tanks, watching one of the Aquarium workers do their feeding show for the viewers.
I had no idea where we would go after a night in a motel. How soon it would be before I could chance a revisit to the flat to pick up our passports. How easy it would be to book a flight and board it undetected. I had absolutely no idea.
What I did know, was that I couldn't trust a cop to keep us safe, this all happened because he turned up asking questions. Which meant I sure as hell couldn't trust a café on High Street to be secure. Roan McLaren knew that Detective Ryan Pierce had visited me this morning. Therefore he'd know, or soon would know, the connection this cop had with Genevieve Cain, whoever she was.
Nowhere was safe. Nowhere.
For a split second I contemplated unlocking Pandora's box. Giving McLaren what I had taken all those years ago. If I didn't still possess it, would he leave us alone? If he had it back in his evil hands would we be safe?
I watched Daisy squeal in delight as an Aquarium curator fed the giant stingrays in the open air tanks, a splash of water cascading over the side and nearly coating her as the stingray ducked to catch a morsel of food. She crouched down and watched the creature sink to the bottom of the clear sided tank, mesmerized by its size.
She looked so small next to that giant animal. So small and precious.
Sweet Seduction Shield Page 3