by Diane Wood
Moving to the sofa, Nathalie snuggled into Alex, feeling her arms enclose her. “I think I love you,” she whispered. “I think I finally know what that means.”
* * *
On Tuesday, Nathalie was back on dayshift. Josh was still cool and distant.
Now that they’d found a connection between Cameron and Young, the task force could start a whole different avenue of inquiry starting with those they’d already interviewed.
Late in the afternoon, after everyone had left, Nathalie caught up with Josh in his office. He didn’t look pleased to see her.
“I’m sorry I walked out,” she said, taking a seat on the other side of his desk. “And I’m sorry you’re not talking to me, but I want to know how this will affect our work.”
“I don’t let personal grievances affect work,” he replied coolly. “And I hope you’re professional enough to do the same.”
“So why exactly do you have a grievance?” asked Nathalie with a puzzled shake of her head.
Pushing his chair away from the desk and walking to the doorway, he glanced around the outer office to confirm it was empty. Closing the door, he returned to his seat. “We’ve known each other for over five years,” he said intently. “We were lovers for six months and now you drop it on me that you’re lesbian. How do you expect me to react?”
“Not like this, Josh,” she replied sadly. “And you already knew I was bisexual.”
“Is that why we failed, Nat?” he asked, ignoring her comment. “Because you didn’t want a normal relationship?”
“Normal?” she spluttered, shaking her head. “Jesus, Josh, since when was anything about me normal? We lived and slept together for six months. That was as normal as I’d ever been and it had nothing to do with sexual preference.”
“Did you ever love me?”
“What’s that got to do with your reaction now?” she responded in frustration. “Our affair was over years ago, but I never cheated on you or wished I was with a woman when we were together, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“But you won’t answer the question, will you?” he insisted angrily. “What did you always say? Ah, yes, that the word ‘love’ didn’t mean anything. Well, I was in love with you.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she whispered. “And I thought we’d got through that and become friends. You’ve never reacted like this to men I went out with.”
The anger in his face dissipated and his shoulders dropped, then shaking his head, he said, “Let’s be honest, Nat. You only ever went out with two or three guys in all these years and never a second time. They were never a threat. But when you spoke about this woman, it was like I was losing you all over again. I guess it brought home that I’d never stopped thinking of you as my lover, and it made me realize I’d wasted five years hoping we could work it out.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was my hang-up, not yours, and in a way it’s made me appreciate what I have with Grace.” Sighing, he continued, “Maybe this time we can both make our relationships work. Maybe it’s a turning point.”
“Does that mean that when Grace invites me to your place for dinner, Alex will be included in the invite?” she asked, almost shyly.
As he nodded, they moved to embrace, just a quick one, but enough to take away the hurt and confusion.
That evening Alex had to stay back at work, so they decided to take the evening to catch up with domestic chores, phone calls, bill paying—all the duties that continue even at the height of a new relationship.
* * *
On Wednesday Bella rang and they arranged to meet for a drink after work. Nathalie thought she sounded a little happier, but they were busy and didn’t talk long on the phone.
The club was quiet as they took a seat in one of the lounges, well away from anyone else.
“I’ve had nobody to complain to since you left,” moaned Bella when they sat down with their drinks and a bowl of chips. “But the good news is that I got the inspector’s position I applied for.”
“Congratulations,” Nathalie said, raising her glass. “You deserve it.”
“It’s OIC of the Historical Crimes Unit,” continued Bella with a shrug. “It’s a new unit being set up to review serious unsolved cases before they’re transferred to computer and archived. I start in head office on Monday, so we’ll be in the same building. It’s not exactly the prestigious position I had in mind,” she said seriously. “But I’m not a people person, so pushing papers might be a better way to go for me. I’ll have a sergeant and five detectives working for me.”
“And how’s things with Jackie?”
“Not bad actually,” she said with a weak smile. “We’ve decided that we’ll see each other three or four times a week and be free to do whatever we want for the rest of the time.”
“And you’re happy with that?”
“What can I do?” she said a little hesitantly. “She’s still going to cook and fill my bed a few times a week and we have other things we like to do. It’s better than nothing.”
“Is she seeing someone else?”
“She says not, so I have to believe her.”
“I’m seeing someone.” It was out before Nat could change her mind.
“You’re not back with Josh Dawson?”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s obvious he still loves you, and I thought that now that you were working together he might have sneaked back into your affections.”
Nathalie shook her head. “I’ve been seeing a woman,” she said, watching for Bella’s reaction.
“Well, hallelujah,” she declared, raising her glass. “The girl has seen the light. But the question is—if you were going to do it with a woman, why didn’t you pick me?”
“Because you’re too cranky and I’m too cranky, and two cranky people should never get together.”
“Good answer,” she replied, a strange light in her eyes. “So who is she, how did you meet? Tell me everything.”
It came out slowly and concisely.
“Sounds serious,” Bella stated quietly when Nat finished.
“I just feel good when I’m with her,” she explained. “Alive and hopeful—do you know what I mean?”
Bella gave a gentle nod.
They spoke about work and the lesbian clubs Nathalie had visited, and they spoke of changes in the police service and the hierarchy. But at no time did they touch on childhood or family; Nathalie suspected that Bella’s home life probably wasn’t much better than her own.
* * *
Afterward she visited Alex.
Alex’s warmth and affection was a whole new experience. It was the cuddle when they did the washing up, the sudden hug and kiss while they watched television or read and the way she’d touch her face or reach for her hand as they walked down a street or ate in a restaurant. The passion and desire were strong and a simple kiss or touch could easily turn to lovemaking, but it was the tender gentle gestures that Nathalie was so unused to, that felt so right.
Over the next few weeks they saw each other every night and when their days off coincided, they’d take drives to the ocean or mountains and go to movies or shows and eat romantic meals in out-of-the-way places.
A couple of times Alex’s mother had popped in while Nat was there. Each time she included Nathalie in her brief conversations. Nat found her warm and friendly and accepting of her role in Alex’s life.
As the days wore on, Nathalie came to trust Alex more and more, and the fear that she might leave if she found out about her past became less constant. At times there was even room for hope of a normal life. Gradually the nightmares decreased in frequency and intensity.
The work investigation was progressing slowly and Nathalie was enjoying the challenges and teamwork, especially when any minor breakthrough was made that gave them all a lift.
Eventually they got a good lead. It came from a lesbian work colleague of Stephanie Cameron’s who’d been on holiday
overseas during the first part of the investigation. She told them of a link between Cameron and the first victim and connected the two of them to the club scene.
According to her, Cameron and Young were ex-lovers, now friends, who clubbed together occasionally because Djanski didn’t like the clubs. The colleague didn’t believe, from the way Cameron spoke, that there was anything between the ex-lovers. Her experience of Cameron and Djanski was that their relationship was rock solid and that Djanski knew about and approved of the occasional clubbing arrangement.
This confirmed the connection between all three deaths and with the addition of the mystery woman from the Rubix Club it gave the team more to work with. One of the first tasks was to try and identify the fair-haired woman seen arguing with Young at the club. That task would begin again Thursday night.
Meanwhile, Bella invited Nathalie and Alex to dinner, with Jackie doing the cooking.
The meal was delicious, but things between Bella and Jackie were tense, and they bickered and snapped at one another constantly. It was obvious that Bella liked Alex and she was on her best behavior.
“So, Bella tells me you’re investigating the killings of the lesbian couple and the other lesbian woman,” said Jackie out of the blue. “What’s happening with that?”
Nathalie’s eyes shot to Bella, who had the good grace to look embarrassed.
“It’s going well,” she replied vaguely, wondering what Bella had said.
“So is it a vendetta against lesbians?” Jackie asked, her face blank, but her eyes alert.
“It’s too early to tell,” replied Nathalie evasively.
“And even if she knew, she wouldn’t be able to discuss it,” interrupted Bella pointedly. “I told you that when you asked me earlier.”
“Sorry,” Jackie said, addressing Nat. “But it makes us all fearful. I mean, if it is a serial killer any one of us could be next.”
“We can only hope,” muttered Bella under her breath.
This time Nathalie caught the flare of anger in Jackie’s eyes, but the woman said nothing, instead, standing up, she offered to make coffee.
“I’ll give you a hand,” said Nat hurriedly, feeling a little sorry for her. Bella could be vicious when she was feeling aggressive.
The kitchen was as stuffy and old-fashioned as the rest of the house, and it occurred to Nat that Bella’s taste in décor was as bland and dark as her personality at times.
“I really like Alex,” said Jackie, taking cups from high shelves and setting them on the tiny piece of workbench. “So you decided to go with a woman in the end?”
“It wasn’t planned,” Nat replied with a shrug.
“Well, it’s a shame you didn’t let me know you’d changed your mind about women,” she mumbled, throwing coffee into the plunger. “I did know you first.”
“What do you mean?” asked Nathalie, confused.
“Oh, come on,” she said, moving close and reaching up to touch Nat’s face. “I just mean that we could have had some fun, but I didn’t approach you because I thought you were straight.”
“What!” She repelled backward as if pushed by an invisible hand.
“It’s just that I like you very much,” Jackie insisted, ignoring Nat’s obvious shock, “and I’d have liked to show you a good time.” Leaning forward, she clutched at Nathalie’s waist, pulling her close and forcing her mouth over Nat’s.
Pushing her away, Nathalie gasped, “Jesus, Jackie, don’t.”
“Don’t be like that,” she cajoled, moving forward again.
“Don’t touch me, Jackie,” threatened Nathalie, backing away. “Or I’ll deck you.”
“What’s the matter?” she sneered, moving back to the coffee preparations. “Aren’t I good enough for you? You’re just like all those other stuck-up bitches that think they’re special. Well, trust me,” she muttered in a flat, dull tone, “I’ll have the last laugh.”
“You’re supposed to be Bella’s lover,” whispered Nathalie angrily. “We’re in her house, for heaven’s sake.”
“Oh God, surely you don’t believe in all that monogamy bullshit?”
“Funnily enough I do,” she said with a shake of her head.
“Well, maybe you won’t if Alex ends up as boring in bed as Bella,” she spat. “Or as obnoxious.”
“You’re a class act,” snapped Nathalie, picking up the container of biscuits and moving as far away from Jackie as she could. “Bella’s my friend, but I really don’t like you, so please, just stay away from me in future.”
“We’ll see, won’t we,” she replied cryptically, picking up the drinks and moving past Nathalie with a superior look on her face.
Bella and Alex were chatting amiably, and Nathalie made a concerted effort to concentrate on that, rather than on what had happened in the kitchen. But she found it hard to keep her eyes off Jackie, wondering if Bella had any idea what she was really like.
While it troubled her, she knew it would serve no purpose to tell Bella.
As soon as the coffee was finished, Nathalie made their excuses and they left.
“Well, I haven’t had so much fun since the last time I had a tooth pulled.” Nat grimaced at Alex as they drove away. “I’m so sorry I got you into that.”
“Not your fault,” said Alex with a grin. “But it was certainly tense.” Then a few seconds later, “They’re such a mismatch and yet so strangely similar. How would they get together in the first place?”
“Mutual need would be my guess.”
“How long have you known them?”
“Bella for a couple of years,” Nathalie replied quietly. “But Jackie only came on the scene in the last few months. Why?”
“I think Jackie might resent your friendship with Bella, but that’s just me doing my analyzing thing. It wasn’t that she actually said anything.”
Nathalie remained silent.
Their lovemaking was tender and gentle, but it was spoilt in the early hours by another nightmare.
This time she was struggling with someone, but there was something over her head so that she couldn’t see and she was frightened, sobbing, asking them to leave her alone. Then there was whispering, followed by blows that hurt all over. And her hands were tied and Mother was angry—her voice cutting into her like a knife. Then more blows, followed by words that made no sense, and then silence. And the silence was worse. She was going to die—Mother told her so. Mother had thrown her down into some sort of hole and stuff was landing on her—getting heavier—and now it was difficult to breathe. Then the panic hit.
Alex was trying to calm Nathalie by talking to her gently when the fist caught her above the right eye. It stunned her, knocking her backward.
“It’s okay, darling,” she cajoled desperately a few seconds later, trying to hold Nat while blood poured from the cut. “You’re safe. Just open your eyes, please, Nat. Just look at me.”
Nathalie’s eyes popped open, a shudder visibly passing through her. For a moment she attempted to back away, her face white and blank. Then her brain registered the blood.
“Oh God, I hurt you,” she gasped finally. “You’re bleeding.”
“It’s all right. I’m fine,” said Alex, relieved to have brought her around.
But Nathalie jumped from the bed, shock written on her pale face.
Alex moved toward Nathalie, but she put her hands in the air as if to ward her off and, turning, moved swiftly toward the bathroom, while Alex dropped onto the bed.
Within moments Nathalie returned with a damp cloth, antiseptic and a large Band-Aid. With a shaking hand she gently tended the wound. “I’m so sorry,” she said when finished. “I’ve never attacked anyone before.”
“You didn’t attack me,” Alex assured her with a wince. “It was an accident and it’s a tiny cut.”
That was true, but like all cuts to the eye and head it bled profusely, covering Alex’s T-shirt and the bedclothes and making it look like a massacre.
They had coffee with all the li
ghts on, and it was three in the morning before Alex went back to sleep, believing that Nat had settled. Fifteen minutes later Nathalie climbed carefully from bed.
All she could think about was that she’d hurt Alex. Pouring a bourbon and Coke and curling into a chair in the lounge she deliberately tried to conjure any memory that might remotely relate to tonight’s nightmare. Nothing came.
It couldn’t go on. Apart from disturbed sleep, terrible headaches and the depression afterward, there was now Alex to consider. She knew that while Alex was strong and patient, the effects of these terrible nights would take a toll eventually. It was time to visit the psychotherapist before she drove Alex out of her life.
She rang the next day after Alex left for work and was surprised to find that she liked the sound of the man’s voice. It conjured images of a gentle poet or writer and sounded open and friendly, and better still, he could fit her into his schedule on Monday. It scared her, but it had to be done.
* * *
On Thursday Nat and Lorna returned to the clubs, hoping that not too many people would know or remember them as police. Although the description of the woman seen arguing with Renee Young was vague, they were trying to blend with the crowd and watch for anyone who might fit it. Witnesses had confirmed that the mystery woman usually arrived alone and left with someone she’d picked up. By the end of the weekend they’d been hit on regularly, but were no nearer finding the woman. It was decided they would persist with the clubs as well as try to track down the mobile that phone records showed had rung Renee Young’s home number on numerous occasions—a phone that did not seem to have an owner.
Alex’s eye had blackened and looked worse than it was. She knew this depressed Nat, but she was pleased to learn that Nat had made an appointment with Dieter, the psychologist she’d recommended. She’d already spoken to Dieter about Nathalie and asked him to find an urgent spot for her, should she ring.
“I’ll be happy to see your friend,” he’d said with his faint German accent. “But you must neither brief me on her problems nor expect me to ever talk to you about those problems. That is why you are sending her to me in the first place. But rest assured I will treat her as I would you.”