by Sarah Bailey
He’s aimed where it hurts and landed the shot. ‘Look, I don’t need your guilt trip. I’m here to do two things: solve Rick Fletcher’s homicide and find Abbey Clark. I suggest if you have something concrete and it’s bothering you then you take it to the minister. There’s no way I’m doing your job for you.’
‘Thanks for nothing,’ he says, stalking off.
Shaking slightly, I get in the car and stare blankly at the steering wheel. If I wasn’t so angry I could fall asleep right here. I blink a few times and rub my eyes, trying to wake up before I start the car and head toward the Gordons’.
My phone rings, a number I don’t recognise. I answer on the hands free and the sound of a woman crying fills the car.
‘Hello?’
‘Detective, he called—Aiden called.’
‘That’s good news, Georgina,’ I say, guiding the car off the road and stopping it under a giant gum tree. ‘At least we know he’s okay.’
‘But something’s wrong! He was being so strange. Oh my god, I don’t understand. He wants us to leave the house and stay somewhere else! What’s going on?’
‘Okay, Georgina, I’m really glad you called me. Tell me exactly what happened.’
Her loud breathing becomes more even.
‘Did he call your mobile?’ I ask.
‘Um, yes, but not on his phone. It came up as a private number.’
‘Okay, and what exactly did he say?’
Her voice lifts an octave and veers out of control again. ‘He was so upset! He didn’t sound like himself—he kept saying he’s sorry and this is all his fault. He said he’s worried that Ian and I are in danger, and that we should take Belinda and go. He’s worried that what happened to Rick might happen to us. I really just don’t understand.’
‘Okay, Georgina, it’s okay. That must have been really frightening. Listen to me, where are you right now?’
She emits a long shuddery breath, and I think I can hear her teeth chatter. ‘At home. The cops were here all day but they’ve left. I’m with our lawyer.’
‘Where’s Ian?’
‘He took Belinda to see his mother at the nursing home. She’s not well.’
‘Alright. This is what I’m going to do—I’m going to organise a constable to come to your house now and stay with you for a while.’
‘Do you think Aiden is right? Does someone want to hurt us?’
‘I don’t think so, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful.’
‘We were going to stay with my sister in Sydney next week.’ Georgina sniffs. ‘They’re not letting us . . . have Rick until next week anyway, and she is going to help us arrange the funeral . . . Maybe we can go earlier?’
‘I think that’s a good idea.’
‘What about Aiden? What if he’s not safe?’ Her loud sob pierces my ear.
‘Georgina, did anything about the call give you an idea of where he might be?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘And you’re sure you can’t think of anyone Aiden would trust enough to stay with?’
‘Maybe his ex-girlfriend,’ she murmurs. ‘They are still close. She lives in Sydney somewhere.’
‘Do you know her name?’
‘Um, yes. Elise Craven. I think she lives in Newtown.’
‘Okay. Georgina, I’ll arrange for someone to come to your house now, okay? And we’re going to keep looking for Aiden.’
I call Tran and talk her through my call with Georgina.
‘I can get someone from my team to go up there for a few hours,’ she says distractedly. ‘But I can’t spare them for very long. Our overtime is through the roof.’
‘Is everything alright?’
‘Yes and no. We’ve spent all day interviewing the family of Dale Marx but we’re not really getting anywhere. All his mates said he’d gone to ground in the few months before he disappeared. His parents haven’t got a clue what he was up to. His father is very unwell and I think they’ve been pretty consumed by that.’
‘But you’re thinking drugs.’
‘I’m not thinking drugs. The team found a decent haul in his bedroom—a whole cupboard of pharmacy grade stuff. And his car is gone. I’d say whoever knocked him off took it and whatever was in it.’
‘Does he have any links to Aiden or Rick?’
‘We’re checking, obviously, but nothing has turned up yet. They weren’t in contact and didn’t go to the same school.’
‘What did this guy do?’
‘He worked at a vet clinic—cleaning and helping to manage the kennels.’
‘Kind of like Aiden at the hospital,’ I say.
Tran sighs. ‘I know.’
I update her on our leads then steer the car back onto the road as I try to think. Are we looking at a love triangle or a drug triangle or both? If it was drugs, maybe Abbey dumping Rick prompted him to threaten dobbing her in. Would that be reason enough for her to fake her disappearance and attack him? For the hundredth time I try to imagine her creeping up behind Rick and striking him, but my brain struggles, desperately searching for other scenarios.
A long email from Jodie lands in my personal inbox with a sharp ping just as I pull up at the Gordons’. She has bolded certain words for emphasis and divided the text into sections. I feel exhausted as I scroll through sentence after sentence. Ben has a school camp in four weeks’ time—does he want to go? What should we do about his birthday this year? Will he want to have a party? Is it okay with me if Jodie takes him to her sister’s fortieth birthday in late June? Does he want to keep playing soccer next term? Do I want my name added to his emergency contacts? Do I want to transfer him onto my health insurance policy now?
When are we coming home?
Anxiety grabs at me in exactly the same way it does every time I speak to Mac. I toss my phone onto the passenger seat where it clips the corner of my laptop.
It immediately starts to ring: Mac.
My temple throbs and I moan, pushing my fingers into my hair and gripping my head.
I can’t do this.
My phone stops ringing and buzzes with his voice message.
Less than a minute later, it rings again. This time it’s Cam.
I take a deep breath and answer, trying to keep my voice light. ‘Hi, Cam. I’m glad you called. I need to ask you more questions about Rick. Do you know if him leaving the pub was a sudden thing or something he’d been thinking about for a while?’
‘Whoa, whoa, Gemma.’ Cam laughs nervously and I can tell he’s running a hand through his thick hair. ‘Um, I actually have someone here at the hotel who’s been trying to get onto you. I’ll just put him on.’
‘Gemma, it’s me.’ Mac’s voice simmers before it erupts. ‘What the hell is going on?’
Thursday, 14 April
8.21 pm
As I put Ben to bed, I can hear the low rumble of Mac and Tommy’s voices in the kitchen.
‘Is Mac going to stay here now?’ asks Ben.
‘No, baby, he’s just saying a quick hello to us and then he’s going back to Sydney.’
Ben nods and closes his eyes; I smooth the sheet over him and kiss his cheek.
Then I return to the kitchen. ‘Ben was out like a light,’ I say brightly.
‘I’m not surprised,’ says Vanessa. ‘He doesn’t stop.’
There’s an awkward pause as everyone looks at me.
‘Well, Mac and I are just going to grab a quick drink and chat about some work stuff,’ I say. ‘I won’t be long.’
Mac says goodbye to the Gordons and follows me out the front door.
‘Are we really getting a drink?’ he says stiffly as I walk ahead of him down the driveway.
I whirl around, my fists clenched. Since I picked him up from the hotel we’ve barely spoken. Looking at him, it’s all I can do not to scream.
‘I don’t know, Mac, you tell me.’
‘No way, no way.’ He holds his hand up, eyes on fire. ‘You don’t get to be angry at me. I came here because you were i
gnoring me. Because I care, Gemma.’
We’re locked in stalemate, blood surging hot and fast. My heart hurts.
I break the stare. ‘This way.’ I walk across the road to the beach.
Silvery clouds block the moon, only the faintest glow reaching around their edges. The gums dust peppermint through the warm air, but there’s a layer of something heavy as well. Something nearby is starting to decay.
Halfway up the shore I sink to the ground, crossing my legs like a child. Mac folds down next to me.
‘Look, I’m sorry,’ I say, with as much calm as I can muster. ‘I told you I need time to think.’
Mac is staring out at the sea. ‘And don’t you think that terrifies me?’
‘Mac.’
‘What, Gemma? Come on, be fair. I know everything is upside down for you and for Ben right now, but it’s not much better for me. You left, and right now I have no idea whether or not you’re coming back.’ He sifts a handful of sand through his fingers. ‘But the worst part is, you won’t talk to me. You’re shutting me out, and when I get here I find out you’ve lied to me about where you’re staying. It’s not okay.’
I wedge my head between my knees, blocking my ears so I can barely hear myself say, ‘I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to do.’ Tears spill from my eyes and drip straight onto the sand.
‘Let me help you, Gemma. Don’t shut me out.’
His hand circles my back while I cry, and I don’t fight it. A series of shivers run up my neck to my scalp and I breathe out. It feels good to relax, to not be on alert for a moment.
‘What happened at the hotel?’ Mac asks. ‘The owner was cagey when I asked him.’
I tell Mac about the possum, and about Tran’s insistence that I stay with the Gordons. He doesn’t react; he just keeps stroking my back, his movements in time with the waves.
‘I would have been happy to stay there,’ I say, ‘but in the end it was just easier. And I thought being close to Tommy might help with the case.’ I huff a laugh.
‘But it hasn’t?’
‘Not really. He isn’t very happy I’m here.’
Mac smiles. ‘No, I wouldn’t have thought so.’ He gathers my hair into a mane down the centre of my back. ‘I remember Tommy from that inquest for the missing couple. He’s such a man’s man.’
‘Is that code for “prick”?’
Mac laughs, and I smile.
‘What did you think of the inquest?’ I ask.
‘God, you’re incorrigible,’ says Mac, yawning. ‘It was a mess. Evidence was misplaced, witnesses refused to talk, and other statements were deemed inadmissible because the proper procedures hadn’t been followed. The ruling was probably right in the end but it certainly wasn’t helped by the way the case was put together.’
I look out at the ocean, its silvery tips like fishtails.
‘One of the witnesses was the father of the missing girl,’ Mac says.
‘What?’
‘Daniel Clark. He was drinking at the pub that night and apparently had a run-in with the missing Ng boy—he kicked Clark out. Originally Clark said he was so drunk he just stumbled to the beach and passed out there.’
My mind is cranking into gear, frantically joining the dots. ‘Originally?’
‘Yeah.’ Mac adjusts his position and edges closer to me. ‘He said he passed out on the beach and when he came around he saw Gregory driving off in his car with another person.’
‘Did he see who it was?’
‘He just said it was a man.’
‘Definitely not Sally?’
‘No, Clark insisted it was a man. But it didn’t matter anyway because later he claimed to have no memory of the night after Gregory asked him to leave the pub. He said his original statement must have been a false memory.’
‘Someone scared Daniel off?’
‘That’s what I wondered,’ says Mac, ‘but I’m not sure. I remember entertaining the possibility that he was in with the cops at one point, but I think the general consensus around here was that he was just a drunk who couldn’t get his story straight. I chalked it up as one of those messy cases.’ Having edged close enough to me, Mac leans forward for a quick kiss. ‘I just thought you should know. Maybe Clark has friends in the force. It often happens in places like this where everyone has known each other for a long time.’
‘Maybe,’ I say, leaning back on my elbows.
Mac exhales and stretches out his legs. ‘I’m worried about you, Gemma. Obviously I don’t like the idea of someone threatening you. You should have told me.’
‘I’m fine. I didn’t want to worry you.’
Mac lifts his gaze to mine. ‘I am worried. I’m worried about us.’
‘Kiss me.’ I move my head so it’s level with his.
He makes an exasperated sound but presses his lips to mine. Peppermint, and a hint of beer. I try to meld into him but he’s being too careful with me. I can almost feel his worry.
‘Properly,’ I say, pushing against him. I feel myself merging into him as my body relaxes. But it still isn’t enough. ‘Get up.’ I scramble to my feet and try to pull him with me. He doesn’t fight back and I edge him toward the wall of trees.
‘Gemma, stop. We need to talk.’
‘I don’t want to.’ I cover my mouth with his, satisfied when I feel him respond. ‘Come to the car.’ I keep pulling him along the beach and up the sandy path.
‘Gemma, stop. You’re crazy—what are you doing?’
‘I want you,’ I say, hustling us across the road, stopping to kiss him every few seconds. I’m desperate, dizzy. He’s half laughing as if he thinks I’m joking but it’s all I want. I unlock the car and open the back door, turning off the interior light. ‘Get in.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘I want you,’ I say again. ‘Now.’
He opens his mouth then snaps it shut, shuffling into the middle of the back seat.
‘I want you too Gem but—’
‘Shhh.’
I glance at the Gordons’: the lamp next to the front door casts a dim semicircle of light across the lawn, but aside from that the house is dark.
I pull the car door shut and straddle him. ‘I want you so bad.’
‘Gemma,’ Mac murmurs, as I start kissing him again. ‘I know what you’re doing. It’s just like after we found Nicki—you know, you shut me out then too.’
‘Does it look like I’m shutting you out?’
‘You know what I mean. You’re ignoring the issues. You’re pretending everything is fine.’
I almost laugh. I feel such a long way from fine. Instead I hike up my skirt and loosen his belt.
My knees press into the leather on either side of his body. Mac draws a sharp breath, his firm hands circling my thighs. ‘Gemma, are you sure?’
I nod and clutch at his face, hooking my hands around the back of his neck, covering his mouth with mine.
‘Well, you have to promise to talk to me afterwards.’
‘I promise,’ I whisper.
The past few months disappear. It’s exactly like the first time we slept together; the whole universe is reduced to just him and me.
‘God, I love you,’ he says breathlessly, as I move on top of him, just as I think the words.
He holds me close when I shudder in pleasure, the exquisite agony of the moment giving way to our bleak reality. The windows are cloudy, and all I can hear is our ragged breathing. Sweat cools on my skin and I shift sideways, tugging my clothes back on.
‘Don’t be in such a hurry to get away from me,’ he jokes, fumbling with his pants and handing me some tissues as he tries to keep an arm around me. He looks at me huddled against the car seat and bursts out laughing. ‘Well, I guess that’s one way to apologise.’ He wipes his sleeve across the side of his head, then his expression turns serious. ‘I miss you, Gemma. Not just this but all of it.’
I let him pull me close again and his heartbeat pounds against my ear. ‘I miss you too.’
He
smooths hair from my face. ‘Come home. Finish this thing here if you need to, but after that come home to Sydney and be with me.’
‘I can’t promise you that,’ I say, the words catching in my throat. ‘Everything is different now.’
He moves away from me, his beautiful full lips firming into a hard line. He tilts his head, looking hurt. ‘Why are you shutting me out? I don’t understand.’
‘It’s not as simple as you think.’ Panic is squeezing me.
‘But what if it is?’
‘I’m pregnant,’ I whisper.
Mac’s jaw drops open just as a blinding light beams into the windscreen. A nearby car has sprung to life and speeds off into the night. Mac scrambles to neaten his clothes as I scan the dark street, my pulse racing even more than it did before. Everything is eerily still; not even the tree branches are moving. I whip my head in the other direction, feeling vulnerable and exposed. Then, without meaning to, I start to laugh, the giggles quickly turning manic.
Mac looks uncertain. ‘Gemma?’
‘I have to go,’ I say, straightening my legs and adjusting my skirt.
‘Gemma!’
‘No, not now. I don’t want to talk about it now. I can’t.’
Mac smacks his palms into the felt ceiling and moans. ‘Fuck, you’re unbelievable. You drop something like that on me and refuse to talk about it? Be fair.’
I push open the door, feeling a bizarre mixture of chaos and calm. I lean back into the car and kiss him hard on the mouth, half wanting to climb inside and do it all again. ‘I’m sorry but you can’t stay here, and I have to go. I need sleep. Let’s meet in the morning—early. There’s a cafe on the main street near the hotel. I’ll be there at seven-thirty.’