by Chris Taylor
But sleeping with Samuel seemed so natural and right. They might have only known each other a little over a week, but it felt like so much longer. She yearned to see him naked, to touch him, skin to skin. She was sure he’d look as beautiful without clothes as he did with them on. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach while she waited for his answer.
“I’m sorry, Shelby. I’d love to, but…I think we should wait.”
For a moment, she thought she’d misheard him. She frowned and replayed his words in her head. “Did you just say you didn’t want to come inside?”
He shook his head. “It’s not that I don’t want to, Shelby,” he said gently. “It’s just that, I meant what I said. Let’s get to know each other better. There’s no rush. After all, we have the rest of our lives…”
His voice had lowered to a husky whisper and her stomach somersaulted with anticipation. But still, he was turning down her offer to sleep with him. What kind of guy did that? And then she suddenly cottoned on to the truth.
“Does this have anything to do with my father?” she demanded. “Is that why you’re reluctant to come inside? He’s put you off your game, hasn’t he? Despite everything, my dad’s won. I want to drag you up the stairs and into my bed and you’re offering me a couple of kisses and then bidding me a chaste goodnight.” She laughed without humor and shook her head, increasingly convinced she was right.
Samuel stared at her, his expression somber. “It doesn’t have anything to do with your father, Shelby, despite what you might think.” He took her hands in his. “What we have together is special. You know it and so do I. Let’s wait for the right time, for when it will be the culmination of our love. And just so you know, I’m falling hard and fast, Shelby Gianopoulos. I hope you are, too.”
She trembled at the emotion that shone in his eyes and all of a sudden, she wanted to wait, too. She wanted their first time to be everything he imagined it could be: memorable, loving, lingering, sublime. She’d never had that before and was unlikely to at two in the morning. Samuel was right. She was sure it was worth waiting for.
* * *
Shelby glanced at her watch and cursed under her breath. Once again, she was late for work, this time courtesy of a delayed train. She hurried through the entryway, tossing a wave in Marjorie’s direction. The elderly woman gave her a huge grin and waved back to her from the information booth. She was way too cheery for so early on a Monday morning.
“Shelby Gianopoulos?”
Shelby heard her name coming from somewhere behind her and half-turned to glance over her shoulder. A man about her age, wearing a white doctor’s coat and a stethoscope casually around his neck, half-jogged to catch up with her.
“Shelby Gianopoulos?” he asked again.
Shelby frowned, but nodded and continued her rapid path toward the elevators. “Yes. Do I know you?”
“No, but I’ve heard a lot about you.”
The innuendo in his voice pulled her up short. She stopped and turned to face him. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the man said, sounding far from apologetic. “I forgot to introduce myself. “I’m Doctor Ian Broderick. I’m a friend of Samuel’s.”
“Oh,” Shelby replied, still feeling a little confused. Why would Samuel be discussing her with his friend? Disquiet stirred in her belly.
“So, after all I’d heard about you, I just had to meet you. You’ve been monopolizing my buddy’s attention to the point I barely see him anymore. I decided I had to meet this Shelby Gianopoulos, who seems to have stolen all of his spare time and maybe even his heart.”
Shelby stared at him, feeling at a distinct disadvantage. She’d never even heard about this man before and yet he seemed to know all about her. What was more, he implied he knew far more intimate details about her than she’d ever care to discuss.
“Look, Ian. I’m sorry Samuel hasn’t had the time for you that he normally does. I’m not sure that’s my fault. In fact, I’m certain it isn’t. Samuel’s a big boy. He can make his own decisions. He gets to choose where and with whom he spends his time. If you have a problem with that, I suggest you take it up with him.”
“Whoa!” Ian laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. “I can see what Samuel’s all hot and bothered about. You’re a feisty one, aren’t you?”
He moved closer and ran a finger slowly down Shelby’s arm. She stared at him, shocked, and a moment later moved out of the way. She shivered in distaste. Ian merely chuckled and shot her a knowing smile.
“Did I tell you I was an orthopedic surgeon?” he asked in a casual tone.
Shelby blinked and did her best to keep up with the sudden change in conversation. “Excuse me?”
“Yes, Samuel and I attended university together, but we chose different specialties. There’s something about all those hammers and chisels that gets my blood flowing. Sometimes I even get aroused. Of course,” he lowered his voice conspiratorially, “it would be pretty cool doing what Samuel does every day. All those half-naked women, begging for his help.”
Shelby’s anger hit overdrive. Fury heated her cheeks. “You’re disgusting,” she growled. “You’re a disgrace to your position, this hospital and every other doctor in this state. I have no idea what Samuel sees in you, but nothing would please me more than never setting eyes on you again. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m running late. There are half-naked women who need me and I’m not going to let them down.” Her breath came fast and her heart beat hard. He stared at her in surprise.
“Hey, calm down. I didn’t mean to make you mad. I was joking! A little joke! That’s all it was.”
His accompanying smile looked forced and only served to grate further on her nerves. She made a move toward the elevators and then once again, his voice stopped her in her tracks.
“He’s gay, you know.”
She spun around on her heel and stalked back to him. “What did you say?”
Ian eyed her innocently. “I said, he’s gay. Samuel. Not many people know about it, but I’ve been friends with him for years. Like I said, we went to college together. A lot of things went on there.” His smile was sleazy. His tone was filled with innuendo.
Shelby frowned in confusion, her mind in a spin. Samuel, gay? It couldn’t be true. She shook her head with increasing certainty.
“You’re lying,” she said, grateful her voice remained sure and steady. “There’s no way Samuel’s gay.”
Ian stared at her pityingly and then shrugged. “Suit yourself. You’re entitled to believe whatever you want to believe, but I know the truth. He tries hard to hide it. I’ve seen it happen over and over again. He goes out with girls in an effort to get over it, like it’s some kind of temporary illness that can be treated.” Ian grimaced. “Poor sod. He’s only deluding himself, but what can I do? He won’t listen to me. He needs to work it out on his own.” He sighed heavily. “I guess he’ll get there one day.”
Shelby stared at him a moment longer and then wrenched herself away. She refused to listen to such garbage an instant longer. Stumbling toward the elevators, she tried hard to slow her confused thoughts. It couldn’t be true. Could it?
Ian had seemed so sure. Was her father onto something? Had he sensed something Shelby hadn’t? Was that the real reason Samuel hadn’t slept with her? She’d as much as thrown herself at him the other night.
But what about the passion they’d shared? The mutual desire? She’d felt his arousal on more than one occasion. How could all that have been an act?
No, it couldn’t have been an act. She was sure of it. She prided herself on being an astute judge of character. She couldn’t have been that far off. It just wasn’t possible.
She’d discuss his friend’s accusations with Samuel as soon as she could, hopefully later that day. He was rostered on the afternoon shift. She’d corner him somewhere and demand to know the truth. If he were gay, she wanted to know sooner rather than later. She didn’t have anything against gay men, but there was no point wasting time with s
omeone who was never going to work out.
CHAPTER SIX
Dear Diary,
He thinks he’s so discreet, but I know his every move. I see his friends come and go and then come back again. I saw the argument with his latest companion. It spilled out on the streets. They spoke to each other in the harshest of words. He didn’t know I was listening. He doesn’t know about a lot of things. Unlike him, I know how to be discreet, how to wait in the shadows in silence. How to seize my moment and never let go, like an avenging angel.
* * *
Jared Buchanan eyeballed the suspect who sat across from him in the confined space of the Bondi Police Station interview room. Surrounded by the bare gray walls, a solitary desk, two chairs and a wall mounted camera, the man Jared believed was responsible for the murder of Simon McLean couldn’t seem to control his fidgeting.
“Simon McLean’s buddies told me you left the Oxford Street Bar with him a little after nine the night he was murdered. CCTV footage from the bar clearly shows you and Simon leaving the building and crossing the street. That was the last time he was seen alive.” Jared leaned forward and glared at his suspect. “Now, if you don’t want me to charge you with murder, I suggest you start talking.”
Peter Browning swiped the back of his hand across his forehead. A fine sheen of sweat glistened on his upper lip. He glanced at Jared and just as quickly looked away, focusing instead on his fingernails. They were clean and well-manicured.
According to Jared’s inquires, Peter Browning was employed at a call center for a local cell phone provider. In his early twenties, he rented an apartment with a couple of other friends and caught the bus from his home in North Bondi to the call center in the city. On paper, he appeared to be everything he said he was, but Jared was more interested in the fact this kid was last seen with the most recent cliff-top victim. A victim who’d been savagely beaten to death.
The man remained silent. Jared tried another tack. “You met Simon at the Oxford Street Bar, is that correct?”
“Yes. I was there with a couple of friends last Friday night. We were having a drink. Simon’s group was nearby, watching cricket on the big screen. We got to talking. I like cricket, too. We bought each other a couple of drinks. By nine o’clock, I suggested we go back to my place.”
Jared’s gaze remained steady on his suspect. “Mr Browning, the Oxford Street Bar is a well-known hangout for homosexual men. Are you gay?”
The man nodded. “Yes, I am.”
“How often do you pick up men for sex?”
The young man blushed and picked at a hangnail. “I like to go out on the weekend. I’m a social kind of guy. If I meet someone I click with and they feel the same, we spend the night together. So what?” His gaze met Jared’s. “There’s nothing illegal about it.”
Ignoring the young man’s comment, Jared continued: “When you said you suggested to Simon that he go home with you, I take it that you intended to have sex with him. Is that correct?”
Browning compressed his lips and stared down at his hands, but he answered with a nod.
“I’m sorry, Mr Browning, but for the purposes of the audio, I need a verbal response.”
“Yes, we were going home to have sex.”
“How did you know Simon McLean was gay?”
“For a start, he was in a gay bar, Detective. Not many straight guys hang out in that kind of place. Secondly, I got to talking to him. You get a sense for these kinds of things. When I invited him home, he was happy to leave with me. He wasn’t stupid. He knew we were going to have sex.”
“What happened after you left the bar?”
“We caught a bus home to North Bondi.”
“Do you know what time it was then?”
The man shrugged. “It took awhile for a bus to come along. I guess it might have been nine-thirty by then.”
Jared made a note on the paper in front of him. Many city buses were equipped with security cameras. He’d get someone to check the footage and verify Browning’s statement.
“So, you caught a bus back to North Bondi. What happened next?”
“I only live a few blocks from the bus stop. We got off the bus and walked home.”
“Was anyone else there?”
The man shrugged again. “Maybe. I share with two other mates. I didn’t see or hear anyone, but they might have been asleep. I didn’t check their rooms. As soon as we got there, Simon and I went straight to my room.”
“Where you had sex,” Jared stated.
“Yes.”
“Except, you didn’t.”
Browning’s head shot up in surprise. “Of course we did. It’s like I told you earlier. I took him home, we had sex and then he left. I didn’t see him again.”
“There was no semen found on Simon’s body,” Jared said, watching his suspect closely.
“We used a condom. What do you think we are? Stupid?”
Jared’s gaze didn’t waver. “No, I don’t think you’re stupid. I think you’re a liar.”
Anger flooded Browning’s face, coupled with a flash of panic. “I’m telling you the truth!”
Jared leaned back in his chair and propped his foot up on his knee. “See, this is what I think happened. You met a guy; you seemed to click. You had a few drinks in the city and then you brought Simon back to North Bondi. You suggested he come home with you, but he didn’t want to, so you suggested you go for a walk, instead. You headed along the boardwalk and then into the bushes along the cliffs. It’s a well-known haunt for gay hook-ups. I’m guessing as a local, you know that. You were hoping to convince Simon to have sex with you after all, even though he’d been reluctant to go home with you. His continued reluctance pissed you off and it escalated into a fight. You picked up a tree branch or something similar and bludgeoned the poor guy to death.”
Browning was shaking his head with increasing vehemence even before Jared came to a halt.
“No! No! No! You have it all wrong! It didn’t happen anything like that! I didn’t kill him! I swear. I was just as shocked as anyone when I heard it on the news.”
“We have a bloody palm print taken from the scene,” Jared informed him quietly. “It will go better for you in the long run if you cooperate with us.”
The man’s eyes got wilder. “I’m telling you, it wasn’t me! I could never kill anyone!”
“But you’ve been involved in a number of serious assaults, haven’t you, Peter?”
Jared’s accusation was all the more deadly for its gentle delivery. Browning’s jaw clamped shut. He stared at Jared with fear in his eyes.
“It’s not the first time you’ve been up on charges, is it, Peter?” Jared flipped open a folder and read from Browning’s criminal record.
“Two assaults in 2015, another one in January this year. In fact, this one involved a glassing, didn’t it? You sliced a man’s cheek in half.”
“He came at me first! I swear he did! He called me a fag.” Tears glinted in the young man’s eyes and his bottom lip trembled. “What was I supposed to do?” he choked.
Jared had previously noted the penalty handed down by the court had been limited to a good behavior bond. For such a serious assault, he could only guess there was some substance to Browning’s claim of self-defense.
Silent tears ran down Browning’s cheeks and Jared suppressed a sigh. At five foot three and weighing less than one hundred pounds, the kid didn’t look strong enough to beat Simon McLean to death, but it never ceased to amaze Jared what people were capable of in the throes of anger fueled by alcohol and possibly drugs.
“I want to call a lawyer,” Browning muttered, swiping at his eyes.
“Of course. I’ll bring you a phone. But you can make this easy on yourself and let us take your palm prints. If you’re confident it wasn’t you who left that bloody print at the scene, you shouldn’t have any problems.”
“I’m already in the system. You have my prints.”
“We have your fingerprints. I need your palms.” He
stared hard at Browning and was surprised when the man offered a sigh of resignation.
“If I let you take my prints, will you leave me alone?”
“If they’re not a match, you won’t hear from us again,” Jared promised.
“All right, I’ll do it.”
“Good. Let’s go. The sooner we clear you as a suspect, the sooner you can leave.” Jared pushed away from his seat. Browning did the same.
“Oh, by the way, Mr Browning, do you know anyone by the name of Howard King?”
Browning frowned and shook his head. “No, should I?”
“His body was found in the same vicinity about three weeks ago. He’d been viciously beaten to death. His family confirmed he was gay. We see a bit of a pattern forming. Let’s hope for your sake your prints come back clean.”
* * *
Shelby checked her watch for what must have been the hundredth time. Her shift was coming to an end. Any moment, she expected Samuel to appear. It was his practice to come by before the changeover and get an update on his patients from the nursing staff. It was also a way they could see each other on the days when their shifts didn’t coincide. If he was rostered on a late shift, like he was today, he often wouldn’t finish before midnight—long after Shelby had called it a day.
She finished the report she was writing and stood to return the file to its place in the rack behind the nurses’ station. She caught movement from the corner of her eye. Turning her head, she saw Samuel stride onto the ward. He smiled the moment he saw her.
“Nurse Gianopoulos, how nice to see you.”
Despite the fact there was no one else around, Shelby blushed. “Good afternoon, Doctor Munro. It’s nice to see you, too.”
Samuel halted beside the counter. “How was your day?”
“Not too bad. Lily Bradman’s waters broke about two hours ago. She’s in early stage one labor. Jacquie Nolan has just given birth. We anticipate there’ll be five more women come in over the course of the evening.” She offered him a smile. “It sounds like you might be in for a busy night.”
“Too bad you won’t be here to help me,” he said and gave her a wink.