Lara ignored that. ‘Did he say anything about Garrett?’
Brooke shook her head. ‘I’m not sure it was him, Lara. I really didn’t get a good look.’
‘Who else would it be?’ Why were they all being so dense and negative about this?
‘I don’t know.’
‘They should check the guy out at least. Has he been into the café?’
‘No, of course not. He’s not allowed to.’ Brooke frowned and concentrated on her food.
‘Might not stop him.’
‘But why would he make more trouble for himself?’
This was sounding very like an argument Brooke didn’t want to have. Lara made an effort to modify her tone. None of it was Brooke’s fault. She was the victim and now she was almost defending the guy.
‘Who knows? Why would he do what he did in the first place?’ She ate the last of her fried chicken. Brooke had cooked tonight. Lara never deep-fried anything since she’d become a mother, conscious of her baby’s health and the importance of teaching him to eat well, but the occasional fat splurge wouldn’t hurt. Petey, predictably enough, had loved it so it would be on the menu again. At least this fried chicken was homemade and she knew what was in it. She couldn’t protect her boy from everything in the outside world — chocolate next door, now deep-fried food at home. An uncle and new aunt keen to meet him.
‘Nick said they checked where he was on Sunday and he was at home.’
‘And they believed him?’ When had he told Brooke that? She hadn’t mentioned it to Lara. Why hadn’t he contacted her?
Brooke put her fork down carefully. ‘Lara, can I ask you something?’
‘Yes. What?’ Please don’t let it be about her relationship with Nick. That was such a mess in her brain she couldn’t explain it to anyone, herself included.
‘Why don’t you like the police?’
The question was like a smack in the head. She hadn’t expected anything so perceptive or so close to the one subject she didn’t want to discuss with Brooke — her family. She retreated. ‘I don’t having anything against the police.’
‘Yes you do, you don’t trust them, any of them. Even Nick and he’s been fantastic in all this, and so has Marie.’ Was Marie that thin woman in blue at the identity parade?
‘I don’t know Marie, but in case you’ve forgotten I went to Manly with Nick.’
‘But it was sort of a truce, wasn’t it? And as soon as something, this, happened you were on the other side again blaming him and blaming the police for not locking up Garrett when there’s no proof it was him at all.’
‘I — ’
But Brooke was off and running now with righteous indignation flowing like a river in flood. ‘It’s not fair. Nick is a really good bloke and he likes you, anyone can see that.’
‘I know he does and I like him.’
‘But you don’t like him more than just friends?’
The girl was as bad as a CIA interrogator. Did she need to answer these questions? From Brooke? From anyone? Lara hesitated but one look at the earnest face across the table told her she wouldn’t get away with a non-answer so she gave a half one. ‘I’m not ready for more than that. I’m not ready for another man. I’m enjoying my freedom too much.’
‘So you do like him.’
‘We’ve agreed to be friends.’ She said it so firmly Brooke must have taken the hint enough was enough. But she hadn’t quite finished with her uncomfortable little probes.
‘Friends stick by each other.’
‘I haven’t had many friends so I wouldn’t know.’ Lara stood up and collected the dirty plates. What did she mean by that? Did she expect Lara to back Nick even if she thought he was wrong? Brooke was an innocent in regard to criminals, and with no idea what the cops were capable of.
Brooke picked up the empty salad bowl and followed her to the dishwasher. ‘I think we’re friends now and you stuck by me Lara, so you do know.’
‘You were in trouble and there wasn’t anyone else.’ She turned on the tap and rinsed the plates and cutlery.
‘There was. I could have gone to a transitional care place.’
The last thing Lara wanted was a fight. She attempted to lighten the mood. ‘Maybe I should have let them take you — you might have made some really good friends amongst the oldies.’
To her relief Brooke smiled. ‘Maybe. I don’t mind old people. Ellie’s great.’
‘My God, don’t say that word in front of her.’ Lara laughed. ‘You’ll get your bottom smacked.’
‘How old is she?’
‘Early sixties.’
Brooke nodded. ‘Old.’
Lara snickered and shut the dishwasher.
‘Oh I forgot! I picked this up today for you. Someone left flyers at the café.’ Brooke pulled a folded piece of paper from her jeans pocket.
Lara smoothed it out and read:
Gallery Poco
Marion St, Leichhardt
Art lessons. Day or evening classes.
Lessons in drawing, watercolour, oils. Beginners to advanced.
Call Maggie or Raoul1.
‘Phone them.’
‘I don’t know if I could...’
‘I do. You should at least find out when the classes are before you dismiss it.’
Lara stared at the flyer. The script was lyrical and floated across a background of art deco style flowers and trees. Arty and inspiring. Should she? Why not? It wasn’t committing herself to anything to ask for information.
‘Okay, I’ll call in the morning.’
‘If they do evening classes I can mind Petey while you go.’ Brooked positively glowed with enthusiasm.
‘But won’t you be…’
‘What?’
‘Well…won’t you be going back to your place? Not that I’m saying you should go soon but…’
‘Oh! Yes I suppose…you don’t want me here forever and I’ve been here for weeks already. You must be getting sick of me. I’m sorry.’ The blue eyes filled with a wash of tears and the mouth drooped. She suddenly looked very young, a lost child, with the last vestiges of bruising still staining her eye and cheek a smudgy yellow.
‘No, I’m not getting fed up with you, Brooke. I enjoy having you here, I really do and so does Petey.’
‘I’m sorry, I like being here so much I forgot...’
Lara rubbed Brooke’s arm. ‘It’s too soon. You don’t have to think about going back home until you’re ready.’
‘Are you sure? You’ve been so kind, Lara. I don’t want to ruin our friendship.’ She wiped a hand across her eyes quickly and tried a smile. ‘I should go home. I’m paying rent on the place and I’m not even there.’
‘Only when you’re ready.’
‘Maybe this weekend I could go. Would that be all right? If I stay a few more days?’
‘Of course it would. It’s up to you. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.’
‘No, you’re right. I can’t stay here forever — much as I’d like to. I have to be brave.’
Lara could only shrug helplessly and wish she hadn’t opened her big mouth.
Brooke took herself off to bed at nine thirty, yawning and saying how tired she was, a very thinly veiled excuse to be out of the way when Nick arrived. If he ever did. Lara considered going to bed herself but it was ridiculously early so she flicked through a range of uninteresting shows on television for fifteen minutes then opened a book. If Nick wasn’t here by ten she’d lock up. Who visited anyone after ten at night anyway? He had a nerve expecting her to wait up.
The phone rang.
His voice poured into her ear, warm and intimate, melting all the indignation in two short sentences.
‘I’ll be there in five minutes. Is that okay?’
She could only breathe, ‘Yes,’ and hang up.
Chapter 13
He followed her to the living room but remained standing. So did Lara. What had happened in the days since she’d seen him? She’d opened the door and the sight of him t
hundered through her body. She’d stepped aside, wordless, barely able to draw in air. He filled the room and she couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye. Why? The answer roared back. Because she missed him, wanted him so desperately and frantically she didn’t trust herself to speak or move. Did he know? She had no idea.
He stood in the centre of the room, face stern, body rigid. The green-brown eyes regarded her from somewhere distant. A shudder rippled through her body as her desire for this man was overridden by a creeping dread. He’d come to tell her something, something bad; she knew the expression, knew the manner. She steeled herself for whatever it was. Had they dropped the case against Garrett? Had someone been hurt, a family member? Had someone died? Was Ivan in trouble? Now her breathing was so shallow she had to force herself to drag in a deeper lungful. Her fingers twisted together, clammy. She wiped her palms on her jeans. What? What had he come to tell her?
‘I can’t be friends with you, Lara.’
Her eyes flew to his face, startled, but the immediate relief at the lack of bad news was swamped by the meaning of his words. ‘What?’
He stepped closer, eyes burning into hers. ‘I can’t be friends — it’s impossible.’
‘But…’ She swallowed. Why couldn’t they be friends? They’d had such a good time on their outing. Hadn’t they? She clamped her lips together against a sudden rush of tears. She wanted his friendship, she wanted him.
‘I’ve tried but it’s torture. I can’t do it.’ His fingers touched her cheek. ‘Being near you is…all I want to do is kiss you.’ He turned away abruptly and strode to the window. ‘I know you don’t want that complication. I’m sorry. I just had to tell you.’
Lara stared at his back, his words washing over her like sweet, warm syrup, soothing the hurt, buoying her. She walked across and slipped her arms around his waist, holding him close, feeling the warmth of his body against hers, the unique smell of him in her nostrils. He gripped her hands and turned slowly gazing down at her with wonder in his eyes. His arms slid around her body and she went willingly to meet his lips.
Tender at first, experimental, gentle, as though she might change her mind suddenly. But she didn’t want to change her mind and she opened her mouth to show him, allowing him more, giving more.
‘I can’t believe this is happening,’ he murmured. ‘I’ve wanted to do this again for so long.’
‘It’s a dream,’ she whispered, nuzzling into his neck.
‘I hope not.’ He claimed a kiss which she returned but he had to ask. ‘Lara, will you regret this?’
‘Will you?’
‘Never.’
‘Why do you think I might?’
‘Because you changed your mind so quickly about me and I’m wondering if you might decide you’d made a mistake.’
A finger pressed lightly against his mouth followed by her lips. ‘What makes you think I changed my mind? I always thought you were sexy and attractive.’
He smiled. ‘Did you?’ But she didn’t reply and her lips answered for her.
Despite the raging passion, something held Lara back from leading him across the hallway to her bedroom. Much as she wanted to and much as she knew he did too, she also knew he’d take her lead. He wasn’t pushing or demanding, he wouldn’t be angry or violent if she drew the line. Disappointed maybe, but not angry. Unless she’d completely misread him.
She tore herself away from his kiss. ‘Nick, I can’t go to bed with you…I’m sorry… I’m not ready for that yet.’
He cupped her face between his palms, staring into her eyes. ‘Damn!’ he growled.
Her eyes opened wide and her muscles tightened ready to fight. Had she got this man so terribly wrong?
‘Hey. I’m kidding.’ He pulled her close and pressed her head against his shoulder stroking her hair like a child’s, softly and gently. ‘It doesn’t matter when that happens. It’s up to you.’ He held her away and kissed her. ‘It’s enough for me to know this much. How you feel about me.’
‘Oh. I’m sorry. I’m not very good at this.’
He smiled. ‘I think you are. But unless we back off a bit it’ll be too late.’
She nodded. ‘Maybe I should make tea.’
He sighed and added a rueful grimace. ‘That’ll be nice.’
She laughed and pressed her lips and her body against him for an instant. ‘Come on.’
She took his hand and he trailed after her to the kitchen where the tea took a lot longer than usual to prepare, punctuated as it was by kisses. Eventually it was ready and Lara gave him a mug and took her own plus a plate of biscuits back to the living room.
He sat beside her on the couch as they drank, snuggled up together, talking softly, kissing, exchanging all the silly questions new lovers do.
‘I’ve never felt like this about a woman before,’ Nick said. He slung his arm around her and dragged her even closer.
Lara grinned. ‘But you have about a man?’
He squeezed her hard. ‘Smartypants. Have you?’
Lara licked her lips. ‘I never felt like this about Tony, that’s for sure.’
He drew away a little, studying her. ‘But there was someone else?’
‘Why do men always want to know about the old boyfriends?’
‘We’re jealous. Tell me.’
‘That’s ridiculous. How can you be jealous of someone a girl met years before she met you?’
‘I’m not, I was speaking in a general sense about men.’
Lara pursed her lips, eyes narrowed. ‘Crazy man.’
He kissed her quickly. ‘Crazy about you.’
Lara swallowed. ‘I did fall in love once — desperately. He was involved in something my husband was doing. He came to the house a lot and I…’ She dragged in a deep breath. ‘I was totally smitten.’
Nick frowned and touched her cheek. ‘Dangerous with a husband like yours. Was he smitten too?’
‘I thought so. I thought he’d save me. I thought he was different to the rest of them.’
‘But he wasn’t?’
‘Turned out he was an undercover cop using me to get closer to Tony. Not that I had any influence or knew anything. We hadn’t been married for long.’
‘Did Tony find out?’
She paused. Should she tell him? Why not? If they had any sort of future this had to be out in the open. He probably knew a lot about her already. Most of it was on public record if you knew or wanted to look. Or bothered. ‘Yes.’
She felt the response in his body. The arm draped around her tightened suddenly, he drew in a quick short breath. ‘Really!’ It wasn’t a question. ‘How did he find out?’
‘I don’t know but…’ She gave a wry little smile. ‘Tony wasn’t stupid. He was suspicious of everyone.’
‘What happened?’
‘He disappeared.’
Nick stared at her. What wasn’t she telling him? Surely he would’ve heard of a murder like that. ‘Tony killed him?’ What a nightmare she’d lived in.
‘Not personally.’
‘But he was killed.’
‘I don’t know. I never heard anything about him or from him again.’
‘Surely a police death would have made the news?’
‘Not that I saw.’
‘So he could be alive, could have been pulled out.’
‘Maybe.’ How could she be so matter-of-fact? This was a possible murder they were discussing.
‘Didn’t the police come asking questions?’
‘No more than usual.’
‘Doesn’t it bother you that he disappeared?’
Lara shook her head slowly. ‘I didn’t care anything about him after I found out who he was. He used me in the worst way.’ She turned her head to stare blankly across the room. ‘I trusted him, I told him things, personal things. My secrets, my dreams.’ Her mouth twisted in disgust. ‘I thought he loved me the way I loved him.’
No wonder she had a thing about police, on top of her upbringing. Nick took her chin gentl
y and swung her face to his. ‘Lara, I’m a policeman but I’m not that man.’
‘I know.’ A smile flicked on and off. ‘I don’t even know his real name.’
He leaned forward and pressed his lips gently against hers and she sighed.
‘Tony accused me of having an affair with him — afterwards. I denied it, of course. I had to. And we’d never actually slept together. Not that that ever made any difference when he’d made up his mind about something. I could just as easily have been telling the truth.’
‘Sweetheart, what did he do to you?’
Her lips compressed into a tight white line. She seemed to shrink in his arms, become a frightened child, breathing shallow and rapid.
‘It doesn’t matter.’ He kissed her softly. ‘You don’t have to tell me anything else.’
She didn’t respond to either his words or his kiss, lost in a past he could only imagine. A trembling hand reached for her tea and she gulped down a couple of mouthfuls.
‘That’s when I got the broken arm and cracked cheekbone.’
‘Christ!’ he hissed. If that evil bastard wasn’t already dead he’d hunt him down himself.
‘If one of his goons hadn’t been there and stopped him I think he might have killed me.’ She went on in a toneless voice. ‘And you know the worst thing? Tony said he knew all along…he knew Cam was sweet-talking me and that made him suspicious because like you said, it was a very dangerous thing to do in his own house. He didn’t really know any more than that about us. He didn’t know how I felt.’
‘But you had no idea this guy was undercover?’
One small shake of her head gave her answer. She leaned into him and rested her head against his chest. He wrapped both arms around her and held her close, with his cheek on her smooth hair and her perfume in his nostrils.
Chapter 14
Brooke moved back to her tiny apartment on Saturday after she’d completed her lunchtime shift. Ellie insisted on driving her when she went next door to say goodbye.
‘She’s not leaving the country,’ said Lara when, on the footpath outside Brooke’s building, Ellie continued to carry on as though she’d never see her again. ‘She’ll be visiting us a lot. And minding Petey for me, too.’
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