by Sarah Barrie
‘Of course I will.’
‘Thank you.’ He nuzzled her lips. ‘Before you rush off, let me express my heartfelt appreciation?’
She wrapped her arms around him. ‘I guess I can squeeze in a bit of time.’
CHAPTER
28
Indy turned up early at Callie’s place the next morning, just as she had on her first visit. ‘I wanted to catch you before you went out to Calico Mountain,’ she said in greeting. ‘Have you got a minute?’
‘Of course. Come in. Give me two seconds.’ Callie went into her bedroom and got dressed, then put the kettle on. ‘What’s up?’
‘I want to show you a picture of Adam.’
‘Ew. Okay, sure.’ She took the offered photo. It looked like a prison shot of a man with a shaved head, a long face with sharp deeply grooved cheeks and pale, poxed skin. His nose was crooked, his lips thin and downturned. But it was the eyes that drew a shiver from her. They were dark, blank and cold.
‘Okay, thanks for that,’ she said with a hollow laugh.
‘You haven’t seen him before?’
‘No.’
‘Are you certain?’
‘Indy, that’s not a face I’d forget.’
‘I need you to be aware, I was able to confirm everything Paisley told us by accessing those records she suggested I look at. I compared them to his prison files. I had a psychologist reclassify him. His initial diagnosis as a young teen gels with what he’s devolved into. To give you an idea, the guy is basically your classic evil sociopath with a lot of other problems thrown in. He has a loyal group of followers in prison that he’s promised all sorts of rewards to for joining him when they’re released. He’s also been keeping in touch, writing seemingly innocent emails. However, when we took the first letter of the first word of each sentence and put them all together, we discovered he’s spelling out the names of each of his victims, so his followers still in prison can keep up with who he’s killed. It’s like a game to them.’
‘So you have proof it’s Adam! Why are you telling me?’
Indy’s face softened in a way that had Callie bracing herself. ‘Because Adam is taking credit for Lisa’s murder. And for Dale’s.’
‘He’s lying.’
‘Maybe about Dale’s, but—Callie, we don’t have any proof Dale actually killed Lisa.’
The legs that had been unable to keep still dissolved underneath Callie as the implications of that sank in. ‘I don’t know why he did it, but he did it. He hid the photos, burned his clothes, had scratch marks all over his face and he came at me—he came at me when I tried to run.’
‘I’m sorry to dredge all this up, but can you be sure of his motives for attempting to prevent you leaving that morning? Did he actually say anything that was a direct threat to your safety?’
She didn’t want to think about it but it wasn’t difficult to bring back. ‘You saw that and didn’t tell me? What were you going to do? Dob me in?’ There had been anger, frustration. ‘I didn’t want it to turn out like this. I’m sorry.’ She’d run, he’d grabbed her. ‘Let me explain!’ But she’d been so mad, so scared. ‘There’s no way to make that better!’
She shook her head slowly, pushed the images from her mind. ‘He didn’t tell me why. He was so angry. I was terrified.’
‘Angry or panicked? Could he simply have wanted to prevent you leaving, wanted to explain because there was another threat—to himself and, because of that, possibly to you?’
‘No,’ she said shakily. ‘No. He hid the drive, showered, strolled out asking for coffee like he didn’t have a care in the world. He said he’d hit a kangaroo. He went nuts over the photos …’
‘There’s a pattern to Adam’s murders. He tortures his victims with the same methodology over and over. It’s ritualistic, cruel and distinctive. And it’s very much his own. I can’t completely rule out that Dale somehow knew how to exactly copy that methodology, especially as we’re working off photos of Lisa’s body, but all the evidence points to Adam having committed the murder.’
Something inside Callie, something she’d been trying to repair since all of this began, crumbled. ‘If he didn’t do it that means I killed Dale and he was innocent.’ It was barely a whisper. ‘He was trying to protect me? Oh my God!’ She dropped her head into her hands and began to shake.
‘We don’t know,’ Indy said clearly and calmly. ‘And I want to remind you that you didn’t kill Dale. The fall did. Even if he didn’t kill Lisa, he was there, Callie. He was involved in some way. And he chose to keep that from you. He wasn’t innocent, and there are too many unanswered questions for you to start beating yourself up.’
‘But he wasn’t trying to kill me. And I … How do I live with that?’
‘We don’t know that!’ Indy reiterated. ‘And nothing changes the fact that he cornered you, grabbed you, knocked you to the floor, hurt you. He did all those things. I don’t know why yet, but even Paisley was convinced he was going to kill you and she wasn’t the one whose judgement might have been clouded by thinking she was about to be murdered. In no way, no matter what comes out of this, was Dale’s death your fault.’
Indy’s words, the kindness in them, didn’t stop the guilt from flooding Callie. ‘I think I want to be alone for a while.’
‘Callie …’
‘Please.’
‘Of course.’ Indy gathered her things together and stood. ‘I’ll get to the bottom of it. I just need you to hang in there.’
‘Do I need to worry about Adam Mansfield?’
‘I really can’t see any reason why he’d come after you or Paisley, but just keep your eyes open, and if you’re worried at all, call me straight away.’
She let Indy out then sat on one of the kitchen stools and stared into space. The sick, hollow feeling threatened to swallow her whole. Knowing she’d contributed—even accidentally—to her husband’s death had been almost unbearable. But she’d justified it by telling herself he had intended to hurt and probably kill her.
Now what? What was she supposed to do with this weight in her chest? She picked up the phone and called Paisley, wasn’t surprised when she got voicemail. She blurted out words, she wasn’t sure if they made sense. When her voice cracked she ended the call.
* * *
‘So we only have two for the trip out to Cradle Mountain, but if I move it to Thursday those two will still be able to make it and I’ll pick up eight more. It means you’ll have to take the quads if anyone wants to go out, or we cancel that timeslot, but it also means I can be in reception all day tomorrow.’ Tess flopped back in the spare chair opposite and looked at him expectantly over his desk.
‘That’d be great,’ Connor said, checking his schedule. A knock at the door had them both glancing up. ‘Indy, hi.’
Indy came in and dropped into a chair next to Tess. She sighed heavily. ‘Where do you keep your scotch?’
‘It’s ten o’clock in the morning.’
‘Is that all? Damn. Okay, I’ll forgo the drink, but I want you to go out and get Callie’s security in order. Today.’
She didn’t look particularly on edge, and her tone didn’t carry any real sense of urgency. She looked tired, maybe unhappy. But he needed to check anyway. ‘Indy, if you’re going to tell me that weird stuff going on in Callie’s cottage has anything to do with Adam Mansfield, stuff the security, I’m going to convince her not to stay there.’
‘And I’ll add an extra push to that,’ Tess said.
Indy shook her head. ‘Adam has a pretty distinct MO so I’m sure we’ve got it covered—he hasn’t murdered without motive. And he doesn’t play games. He strikes and he kills. Why would he break methodology to taunt Callie? She’s been alone out there for weeks. I believe he hasn’t gone after her because she’s not of any interest to him. He has no motive to kill her.’
‘He’s some kind of sick sociopath,’ Tess argued. ‘Isn’t that motive enough?’
‘Everything he’s done so far he’s managed to do wit
hout leaving any physical evidence tying him to the crimes. He’s thought about this every step of the way and carried each murder out meticulously, so I don’t believe he’s about to start randomly killing people for the fun of it. He’s achieved the goal of paying back the people who put him in prison, and he thinks he’s gotten away with it. His next goal is setting up his gang of ex-cons for whatever sick purpose he has in mind.’
‘But that doesn’t have you in here demanding alcohol,’ Connor said. ‘What else?’
‘I just had to tell Callie that her husband most likely didn’t kill anyone. That he may not have had any intention of killing her.’
‘Oh no.’ A thousand thoughts raced through Connor’s mind as he contemplated how Callie would be feeling, what she would be thinking. And none of them were good.
‘Then what’s the urgency with the security?’ Tess asked.
‘Two reasons. The first, we don’t know what’s going on out there and if there is a threat, we don’t want to miss it because it’s been overshadowed by the Mansfield case. And two.’ She looked at Connor closely. ‘I’m as worried about her state of mind as I am of any outside threat, so I think she could use some company this afternoon.’
He closed his eyes and shook his head. ‘Hell, it’s just one thing on top of the next. She’s going to be destroyed.’
‘That’s a pretty good description of how she looked. I didn’t enjoy it but I need questions answered and so does she. She deserves the truth, doesn’t she?’
‘Yeah, when you’ve got it all figured out. What if you’re wrong? What if Dale had every intention of killing Callie? What if he and Adam were in this together?’
‘Then I’ll tell her that, too. As soon as I figure it out. In the meantime, some of what I said might trigger something, a thought, a memory, that could be vital to the case. We have to catch this guy.’
‘I don’t know what to say to her,’ Tess said sadly.
‘If she brings it up just keep reinforcing that her husband’s accidental death was a result of his actions, not hers.’
‘We’ll all head out there,’ Tess said. ‘Bombard her with company so she can’t stew on it.’
‘Maybe for a short while,’ Connor said, though he was pretty sure Callie needed them all converging on her about as much as she needed a hole in the head. ‘We’ll try and take her mind off it, take some food, drinks, lots of casual conversation. Then you lot will take off,’ he told Tess, ‘and give me time to talk to her about it if she needs to.’
‘I’ll give her a heads-up that we’re coming,’ Tess said.
‘Take Logan too,’ Indy said. ‘He can help with the set up. I’m sure he can wrangle a couple of hours. I’m going to go back to work. If it’s going okay, I’ll see you out there later. If not, just let me know.’
* * *
Even though Tess had promised to bring dinner to the cottage, Callie made up a platter of snacks, put out some chilled water, Diet Coke and a couple of bottles of wine. Everything—at least she hoped everything—she needed for the security upgrade was stacked on the small kitchen bench as she’d bought a new tablecloth and set the table. Because she hadn’t asked if Connor and Logan would bring their own tools, she’d selected what she thought they’d need from the garage. Most of the installation instructions didn’t look particularly difficult—she would have managed—but it didn’t matter. It was all good. Because she couldn’t think about Dale any more. Refused to.
She’d allowed herself to feel everything during the course of the day: guilt, pain, anger, regret. She’d run through a thousand different ‘what if’s’ in her mind. She’d cried, walked, slept and cried again. And after all of it, after hours of torturing herself, it all still came to the same end. Dale was dead. And no amount of grieving over what might have been if she’d handled things differently was going to change that.
In the end, it all went in a bit of a blur. The Athertons turned up and huddled around the security equipment, chatting and studying instructions, installing cameras and lights and dishing up endless amounts of food and drinks. When Indy turned up a bit later, they all ate together and if Callie was a little quiet, she still managed a smile or a comment here and there. As they filed out after, she accepted a friendly hug from Tess, then Indy. Logan stopped talking to Connor to say goodbye and followed the women out. Connor stayed put.
‘You’re not going with them?’ she asked.
‘I brought my own car,’ he said, and she noticed it on the other side of Logan’s as the others reversed out.
‘I guess Indy told you what she told me.’
‘The gist of it, anyway.’
‘I don’t really want to talk about it.’
‘Then we won’t.’ He topped up her wine, handed it to her. ‘Will we sit on the patio for a while?’
‘Under the new sensor light.’
‘It’s a good one. Got a coat?’
They went outside. The night was clear, freezing and beautiful.
‘The stars look so bright down here,’ she commented, looking for something to say.
‘Cold air doesn’t hold as much moisture as warm air, so you don’t get as much haze in the sky, hence brighter, clearer skies.’
‘No wonder they’re brilliant.’
‘If you’re too cold we can head in.’
‘I think I might like to call it a night,’ she admitted.
He touched a finger to her forehead, skimmed it down to scoop a tendril of hair behind her ear. ‘I’ll get my things.’
‘No. I—I think I’d like to be alone.’
‘Are you sure?’ he asked, and began raining kisses over her face.
The sensations were divine and for a moment she had trouble remembering the answer.
‘Stop,’ she said.
He did as requested to look her in the eye. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘It’s overwhelming. All of it. I shouldn’t have started this. I went from not ever being interested in another relationship to jumping head first into one with you. And now every spare second—okay, that came out wrong,’ she said in appeal to his sudden scowl. ‘I love this. Us. But … I have to get my head around what I did to Dale. And I can’t do that with you here. Besides, I need to know I’m making my own life, not just fitting into someone else’s.’
He nodded slowly. ‘Okay,’ he said finally. ‘So which is it, because it sounds as though there are a couple of things going on here. Is it that you don’t want to be with me, or you don’t think you’re allowed to be happy because of Dale?’
She threw her arms out in frustration. ‘I don’t even know.’
He didn’t say anything for several seconds. ‘There’s nothing I can do to erase what happened to you. I can’t talk you into trusting me—or yourself. It has to be your choice. And you need to come to it on your own. Or not. But everyone—Indy, Paisley, a judge, a jury—the whole damn country has agreed you didn’t kill your husband. If you can’t let go of the past, you’re going to be stuck in it forever.’ He sighed. ‘I expected more, Callie. I thought this was worth something.’
It may as well have been a physical blow, it had the same crippling effect. ‘Hypocrite,’ she muttered after giving an unhappy laugh.
He turned slowly and she saw real anger on his face. ‘What?’
She pointed to the spot where she knew a small circular scar sat on his shoulder. ‘You’re not just carrying that one around on your shoulder, are you?’
‘Don’t make this about me.’
‘Are you really that blinded by your own guilt that you can’t see that woman for who she was?’
‘Who she was? Callie, you never even met her.’
‘I don’t need to shake her hand to form a conclusion, Connor!’ she snapped, wanting to turn the conversation around to make it about something else—anything else. ‘Be sorry about the baby. Be sorry that his or her health and welfare were never her first concern. Be sorry that even before she fell down those stairs, that baby never had a chance. But don
’t be sorry you found out what a selfish, manipulative bitch that woman was before you spent the rest of your life being miserable.’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about! She was lost. It was the drugs. The baby.’
‘Bullshit,’ she scoffed. ‘Plenty of people become addicted to drugs, but they don’t do what she did. Plenty of people go through the trauma of miscarrying a child, but they don’t do what she did. She was making bad decisions before she was addicted. She was running around dealing drugs before she was addicted. I’m betting she got herself pregnant in order to trap you into marriage, didn’t she? Before she could blame the baby’s loss for her behaviour.
‘She wasn’t made bad by anything you did or didn’t do. She was always who she was and everything else was just an excuse. She wouldn’t take responsibility for her own actions and she never will, because that’s the sort of person she is. So you took on the responsibility for it, because that’s the sort of person you are. But you need to stop. She didn’t want to listen to what you had to say because it didn’t matter to her. That’s on her.’
‘You weren’t there, Callie.’
‘Okay, then imagine you hadn’t gone after her that night, that you’d let her walk out and let her have her way with her drug habit and still married her. Do you really think she would have gotten clean, become a happy wife and mother? Was that ever who she really was?’
‘Callie—’
‘I’m not finished. Or, more likely, when she miscarried later due to the drugs, or gave birth to a stillborn child, or when the baby was born addicted to heroin and or suffered lifelong problems because of that woman’s addiction, or when she simply got sick of you and walked out with the baby to raise it with a family of drug manufacturers, would you not have blamed yourself for those things, too? You’re so desperate to make me believe I should move on, maybe first you need to go look in a mirror.’
When he turned and walked out, she closed the door. How had she managed to get herself into this? She’d started out not wanting to hurt him, but then had slammed him with a tirade. She’d be lucky if he ever forgave her.