Jack replied quickly, 'What I believed and hoped were two different things. While you live and breathe, never stop wishing for the things that matter. You don't want regrets when it's too late.'
Georgie scuffed her toes, knotted with emotion. She thought there couldn't be anything worse than the old man's misery, then fixed on AJ. With a roller-coaster plunge in her guts, she realised her mistake. It could be much worse. And was.
In the red corner: AJ and John Franklin conversed intensely.
CHAPTER 16
Sunday 4 April
'Get up.'
The mattress bounced. Her stomach dropped.
'Come on.' AJ prodded her leg.
'I can't, I'm dying,' she muttered, motionless bar her mouth.
He scoffed.
She moaned, head imploding. 'Go away.'
TV and radio clamoured in competition with AJ.
'And turn off the damn noise.'
'No sympathy.' He prodded harder. 'It's self-inflicted.'
Georgie remembered downing quite a few beers at the wake, plus a number of scotches and glasses of red wine. Between that and the painkillers… He could be right, she may have overdone things.
You think?
She jumped to the present. Swallowed, nauseated. It was insensitive and brainless to put a hangover and death in the same category - even the worst hangover in history.
Hangovers and death. Stale and foul. In her mind, time transferred to the cellar. To her fall. To the discovery of the dead Pentecostes. She flinched, forced her thoughts forward but ended up back at the wake. And faced with a living nightmare.
Oh, shit.
Across the Noonan's lounge room: Franklin and AJ in debate.
Georgie fell out of bed and blindly bolted to the toilet. She heaved the contents of her stomach into the bowl. She stared at the vicious mixture. Vomited again until her throat burned and the liquid turned black.
'You finished in there?' AJ called, all too noisy and cheerful.
Georgie saw his high spirits as a good omen and brightened. He couldn't know about her and Franklin.
Could he?
She flushed the loo and leaned on the cistern. That bloody kiss. While their lips locked, pain didn't exist. When Franklin pulled away, it returned, merged with erotic volts. Desire and pain were powerful antagonistic forces; an apple that tasted sweet and sour in the same mouthful.
Her stomach turned and hurled up more bile until nothing remained. She shuffled into the bathroom. After glowering into the mirror for a few moments, she brushed her teeth, gargled and stood under the shower rose with forehead pressed onto the wall.
Just as well he didn't see me cry as he left. I don't even know why I cried.
I mean, the guy's a bloody good kisser but a dickhead more often than not.
She rotated and water pummelled her front.
How did life become so fucking complicated?
AJ gagged for marriage and a man she scarcely liked filled her thoughts. It wasn't fair to AJ and she ought to cut him loose.
'You want some help with the soap? Must be tricky with the freaky-beak and bandages.'
She slit an eye and saw AJ perched on the vanity. She ignored him.
'George, I've been thinking.'
She faced away. A deep and meaningful was the last thing she needed.
With a wrench of the hot tap, she growled, 'I'm not in the mood.'
The water steamed. It blotched her skin.
Unperturbed, he said, 'Do you think Susan and Roly are together now?'
'Yeah, sure. In the ground -'
'I don't mean physically -'
'Where worms and bugs will eat them -'
'Cut it out.'
Georgie twisted the taps and stood dripping. She swiped vapour off the screen and regarded him through the circle. 'You know I don't believe in that after-life crap.'
'But some of us do, George.'
She towelled off. Where was this conversation going?
'Maybe Susan's glad she doesn't have to be alone any longer.'
Georgie stopped mid-rub. 'You don't seriously believe she's glad she was murdered?'
He flushed. 'Well -'
'I mean, how ridiculous,' Georgie lashed out. 'Who the hell understands what Susan went through? All I know is how bad I felt - especially for those first few days in hospital - and I got off lightly in comparison. She was tortured, knee-capped and left in a cellar with her husband's corpse, copped hypothermia and finally suffered a stroke. Do you think she's planning to write thank-you notes in the near future?'
Angry and horrified, she wanted to hurt him for making her think about Susan. Not that many minutes in the day passed without her mind fixated on the woman's horrific death or illicit fantasies featuring Franklin. Or without her wishing she'd met the farmer in life and that she'd never encountered the copper.
AJ's voice quaked as he said, 'I don't know why I bother.'
He slammed the bathroom door.
A moment later, he rattled the lead and exited with Molly. Georgie sank to the floor and accidentally bumped her hand on the tiles.
'Fucking, bloody, shit.'
The damaged nerves convulsed. Her eyes brimmed and gave way to tears. She vented emotional and physical pain in deep racking sobs that hurt her body, fuelling the hysterics in a cruel catch-22.
Three weeks ago, Georgie had starred in her worst nightmare. Or so she'd thought. The encounter with Magistrate Narkin and conflict with AJ turned out to be tame appetisers for events to follow - with the extra complication of a certain man.
And what a complication. Something that would have been laughable: her falling for a country cop, an older guy with a kid to boot. Huh.
She tried to convince herself that Franklin hadn't revealed their kiss to AJ. Why would he? It couldn't have meant much to him. So, they were in the clear. Just as well, because she couldn't envisage life without AJ.
Yet Franklin clouded their relationship. All because of one damn kiss and the danger that had acted as a powerful aphrodisiac.
Georgie dressed while she listened for AJ's return. She couldn't secure her bra one-handed, so went bare. Had trouble raking her hair, so left it in a bird's nest.
Restless and waiting, she caught Susan and Roly's borrowed wedding photo in her peripheral vision. She'd found the Pentecostes, yet unearthed nothing but pain. Miserable, she turned the photo face down.
Sometimes winning is still losing.
Postlude
We can ask a soldier about war…
a rock climber how it feels to fall off a cliff…
a battered wife how it feels to be beaten up every day.
But we can't ask a murder victim
how it feels to be murdered.
Murder remains a puzzle which always has
the most important piece missing.
Kerry Greenwood
Introduction to On Murder 2
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Although many of the places and businesses in this book exist, all characters and events are fictitious and I've taken some liberty with setting. For instance, anyone who visits the Farmers Arms will find the pool table has given way to extra dining tables, although the 'long room' is still known as the 'pool room'.
Similarly, St Andrew's Presbyterian Church on Camp Street was sold for redevelopment some years ago. Today, the church is hidden behind locked doors and surrounded by unruly gardens, and squatters allegedly shelter in the small hall out the back. Its copper spire may be tarnished but this neo-gothic church is a prominent Daylesford landmark, worthy of resurrecting in this story.
I am grateful to the many people who helped with this book but any mistakes are my own.
Sincere thanks to my publisher Lindy Cameron of Clan Destine Press and editor Liz Filleul. With their encouragement, advice and professionalism my manuscript is finally a book and my dream to be a crime writer a reality.
My book cover looks great thanks to Brooke Foster, Marina Cook and Murray Chapman of Motivating Marketi
ng. The team also did a fantastic job of taking my vision and constructing a website that exceeded my expectations. Michael Marlborough made a professional photo shoot fun and fruitful. And it has been exciting to utilise the extensive collection of photographs I've taken in the Daylesford district for both the cover art and right through the website.
Brian Rix, Chris McGeachan and Tony Haining were generous with their insights into policing in the Homicide squad and general duties at Daylesford and Olinda, while Tessa Jenkins was a gem for police information.
Thanks to my mentor Ruth Wykes and friends Judy Elliot, Raylea O'Loughlin and Sharon Gurry for their invaluable critiques and support. For early feedback and belief, I thank Ray Mooney, the late Anne Calvert, Maurice Gaul, Mandy Tannenbaum, Seamus Anthony, Nola Brooks, Jacinta Butterworth and Alex Petrakos.
Esteemed Australian author Kerry Greenwood also provided inspiration during this book's foundation stages, along with the many other authors and members of Sisters in Crime Australia who are generous and passionate about the crime writing art.
I also sincerely thank Kerry Greenwood and renowned true crime writers Andrew Rule and John Silvester for allowing me to share short excerpts from On Murder 2.
A big shout-out to my family and friends for being a patient cheer squad throughout the book's journey.
Thanks to you, my readers!
I hope you join me at www.sandiwallace.com and Facebook www.facebook.com/sandi.wallace.crimewriter
Lastly, an ovation to my husband and best mate, Glenn, as without him this novel would not have eventuated.
If you enjoyed this selection from our catalogue, you might like:
CLAN DESTINE PRESS
is proud to release
this ebook
and hopes you enjoyed the story.
http://www.clandestinepress.com.au
First published in eBook form by Clan Destine Press in 2014
PO Box 121, Bittern
Victoria 3918 Australia
Copyright © Sandi Wallace
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (The Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or 10 per cent of any book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or the body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to Copyright Agency Limited (CAL) under the Act.
National Library of Australia Cataloguing-In-Publication data:
Wallace, Sandi
TELL ME WHY
ISBN 978-0-9923296-7-9
Cover Design © Brooke Foster and Motivating Marketing
Table of Contents
BLURB
Chapter 1
Friday 12 March
Interlude
Chapter 2
Saturday 13 March
Interlude
Chapter 3
Sunday 14 March
Interlude
Chapter 4
Monday 15 March
Interlude
Chapter 5
Tuesday 16 March
Interlude
Chapter 6
Wednesday 17 March
Interlude
Chapter 7
Thursday 18 March
Interlude
Chapter 8
Friday 19 March
Interlude
Chapter 9
Saturday 20 March
Chapter 10
Sunday 21 March
Chapter 11
Monday 22 March
Chapter 12
Tuesday 23 March
Chapter 13
Wednesday 24 March
Chapter 14
Thursday 25 March
Chapter 15
Saturday 3 April
Chapter 16
Sunday 4 April
Postlude
Acknowledgments
Tell Me Why Page 31