by JP Pomare
‘I left it at the house, it was there.’
‘There was a phone. It’s possible he had two phones, but the mobile phone registered to his name has not been recovered. We’re waiting for records from Spark to confirm whose phone that was at the house.’
‘Well, I only saw the one phone.’
‘Okay.’
‘Do you know who it is yet? Who wanted to hurt us?’
‘We believe so but I can’t share that information until we’ve confirmed it with the family.’
Daniel told me about his family, his dad and unwell mum. How much of it was true though? ‘And what about the cameras? Did you find them all?’
‘We’ve found them, yes. There were seven in the house, but we don’t know where the stream was going yet. We’ve recovered a mobile device from the property but it appears to have been remotely wiped.’
‘So you don’t know who those people were who watched it?’
‘It’s a slow-moving thing,’ the officer explains. ‘I would guess they wouldn’t want to be found. The footage might have been saved remotely. Could be something for the cybercrime team. We’re waiting on details about the phone first, then we’ll investigate those who have stayed at the property. But we’re dealing with an international company and we are requesting access to users’ personal data.’
‘Would it help if you had our login for WeStay, to see what we can see?’
‘That would probably make things move a little faster.’
Soon after the call ends, the doorbell rings. A cluster of anxiety breaks away from my chest and shifts to my stomach. What now? I check my phone. No word from Cain yet. I’d dropped his phone to him at the hospital before I left. When I open the door I find Claire and Axel standing there.
‘My God,’ Claire says. She hugs me, squeezing me so tight my bones click. Axel watches on.
‘Bloody scary,’ he says. ‘You must be shaken up.’ He is much gentler than Claire when he takes me in his arms.
‘Cain texted us,’ he says. ‘Told us what happened but we’d already seen it on the news.’
‘He’s at the hospital still,’ I say. Now that I have the support of my friends, I feel suddenly weaker. Being strong comes much easier when it’s the only option. The sickly feeling of guilt returns and with it heat presses the backs of my eyes.
‘I thought we were going to die,’ I say, tears starting with a helpless sob. ‘I thought we were dead. I wouldn’t have pulled the trigger if I had a choice.’ Axel squeezes me, soothes me with his gentle hands on my back.
‘You poor thing,’ he says. ‘Remember you’re safe now. It’s all over. I’ll pick Cain up tonight, you just rest. He’s tough as nails so he will land on his feet and you’ll be okay too. You did the right thing.’
Easy for others to say.
‘Have you eaten?’ Claire says. ‘You need to eat. I’ll order something.’
‘I’m not hungry,’ I say but when she suggests pizza, I find my appetite responds to the idea. ‘I just feel so guilty. I don’t know why. I know he was a bad man.’
‘It’s normal, Lina,’ Axel says. ‘But it was you and Cain or him. You need to remember that.’
I try to believe it, but I wonder if there was another way.
When the food arrives, Claire goes into the kitchen, finds three plates. The open box reveals a tomato base, melted cheese over salami; it makes my stomach clench. I realise I’ve not eaten a thing today. The other pizza is a margarita.
‘It’s killing me that I got you onto WeStay,’ Axel says, handing me a plate. ‘I feel like shit. I just can’t believe this happened to you.’
‘He’s been beating himself up all morning since we saw the news,’ Claire adds. ‘He’s been trying to think of ways to make it right.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I say. ‘A very damaged man tried to hurt us and it had nothing to do with you, Axel.’
‘I still feel bad. I hate to see you go through this. I just don’t understand what the hell happened down there.’
‘What do you know?’ I say. ‘What have you heard?’
‘Just what Cain told us,’ Axel says. ‘But he was almost out to it. He barely remembers anything.’
I take a piece of pizza, strings of cheese hang.
‘Don’t talk about it if you don’t want to, Lina,’ Claire says. ‘We don’t want you to relive it all.’
‘No,’ I say. ‘It might help, I don’t know, get some clarity. Like therapy.’
I take my plate with three pieces then go and sit on the couch. The other two come over.
My appetite is fading again. ‘Someone just turned up with a gun, there were cameras in the house and he was tormenting me.’
Claire looks sad for a moment, I see a question taking shape in her mouth. ‘And you’re okay? Like, you know, with –’
‘The police have organised for me to see a counsellor.’
‘Good, it will help. Given… you know.’
Given I killed a man. Lots of people kill and it’s sanctioned, defensible. Then some people kill without reason, without cause or permission, like Trent Skelton. I’ve seen enough death in the ambulance to grow desensitised. But this is different. The fact Daniel was going to kill Cain and me doesn’t change it much. I’d had sex with him. I’d chosen him from all those smiling faces on the dating app. I wonder what would have happened if I’d chosen someone else? Among all the noise in my head – the conflicting ideas and voices – is a murmur: if he was a bad man, what does that mean for the baby? Could there be violence and meanness written into the genetic code of our child?
‘Do you want a drink? You must need something hard to take your mind off things?’ Claire says.
‘I’m not going to drink,’ I say. ‘But you two help yourselves.’ I remember then Claire is also pregnant. ‘Or just you, Axel.’
‘I might pass, I’m going to pick Cain up when he’s ready,’ Axel says. ‘You sure you don’t want something? It’ll be good to take the edge off. A stiff drink or a glass of wine.’
‘No, I’m not touching alcohol today, Axel.’
He glances at Claire. ‘If you change your mind it’s there. If you need a drink, or another good cry, or anything, just don’t hold back. You’ve been through hell.’
‘Thanks,’ I say. I reach for one of the other pieces of pizza on my plate, and when it gets to my mouth I think of something. Salami. It’s on those lists of things you shouldn’t eat when you’re pregnant. Being a better mother than my own mother starts now. It actually started years ago when I began taking the vitamins and iron, and looking after myself. I take the pizza away from my mouth. Claire is staring at me, she glances at Axel.
‘What is it?’ she says.
‘Oh, nothing.’
‘You need to eat, even if you don’t feel like it.’
‘It’s not that,’ I say. Given what I went through to reach this stage I don’t want to take even the smallest risk. ‘I just feel like eating the margarita, I think.’
They’re both watching me, their eyes like heat guns. But they’re not on my face, they’ve slid down to where my other hand is resting. That treasonous hand, sitting on my navel. Purely instinctive, but there it is, gently moving in circles over the tiniest bump.
‘Lina?’ Claire’s eyes come back up, meeting mine.
I can see the anticipation. She has guessed it; she knows. It’s no secret how much we want a baby, how hard we’ve been trying. I don’t have the energy to hide it from them. ‘Cain doesn’t know,’ I say. ‘I’ve not told him yet.’
A squeal, then Claire drops her plate on the coffee table and races over.
‘Oh my God, Lina. Finally some good news!’ She squeezes me tight. ‘At the same time as me? They’re going to be best friends.’
Axel turns his grin on to high beam. ‘Our lips are sealed. Congratulations, sweetheart. I know how much this will mean to Cain.’
‘I’m going to tell him tonight. I wanted to tell him at the house but that didn’t hap
pen obviously. It’s really early so just pretend you don’t know until we get further along.’
‘Of course. Imagine them at school together, at each other’s twenty-first birthdays. I’m so happy, Lina. It’s been a traumatic twenty-four hours but I just know everything is going to go your way from here. I just know.’
‘I can’t wait to see Cain’s reaction,’ Axel says, his grin unshakeable. He’s not only been protective of Cain, he’s always been proud. The big brother Cain never had. ‘Last word I’ll say on it.’
‘Yeah,’ I say.
‘The no drinking makes sense now,’ Claire says, then winces. ‘Sorry for the peer pressure.’
‘Did you see the newspapers?’ I say, forcing the conversation to move on. ‘Amazing how quickly they were onto it.’
‘Nothing about the guy, though,’ Axel says. ‘Do they know anything about him?’
‘Not yet. They’ve got to formally identify him, and then I guess they’ll notify his family and release more information.’
‘And they think it was completely random?’
I shrug. ‘I guess. Who knows?’
‘He didn’t ask you for money, or…’ Claire lets the question tail off.
‘No,’ I say. ‘He barely touched me. He just showed me the cameras in the house and said he was going to kill us.’
‘And he didn’t do anything else to hurt you?’ Axel says. ‘I’d kill him again.’
I turn to him. His gaze is neutral, his thick eyebrows slightly raised and mouth set in a firm line. His protective instinct has always been as conspicuous as a gorilla thumping its chest.
‘No. He just said he had been watching us, that sort of thing. The doctor gave me a once-over just in case, but everything is fine. The baby has a heartbeat.’ I find myself gently massaging the painful ring on my wrist.
Axel’s eyes glance down. ‘Sore?’
‘It’s okay. I kept jerking on it, trying to escape.’
‘For what it’s worth, I hope you stop feeling bad about shooting that scumbag. You saved Cain’s life, you saved yourself and the baby. You should be proud.’
I should be full of relief and love for my unborn child, but I still feel the emptiness and regret of guilt. The home phone rings. My heart leaps and the fright causes the plate to tip from my lap. The sound of the plate cracking on the floorboard upends my precarious mental state.
‘Shit,’ I say, through the sudden tears. ‘Sorry.’
‘Let me clean that,’ Claire says. ‘Axel get the phone.’
‘No,’ I say. ‘It might be the police again.’ I sniff hard as I cross the room and take the landline from its cradle. ‘Hello?’
‘Lina.’ It’s Cain’s voice.
‘Cain,’ I gasp.
‘I miss you, darling.’
‘I miss you too, it’s been a long day.’
‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah,’ I say, sucking in a short breath, trying to compose myself. ‘Just so tired. Claire and Axel are here. Do you want me to come get you now?’ I turn and face Axel and Claire, who are both watching me.
‘No, Axel’s going to drive down. I’ll be home late. I’m going to go to the police station first to give a few more details but maybe send Axel on his way now.’
‘Right. How are you feeling?’
‘I’m okay. They’ve given me something for the pain. I’d better go, I should be home by midnight.’
‘Okay, I’ll see you then.’
‘I love you, darling. You did so well last night, Lina. You’re incredible. I hope you know that.’
I feel the tears coming again. He’s never so candid and it takes me a moment to collect myself before I speak again. ‘I love you too, see you soon.’
I place the phone back on the cradle.
Claire has tidied up the mess and served up a fresh piece of margarita.
‘So,’ Axel says, ‘should I hit the road?’
‘If that’s still okay?’ I say.
‘Of course it is. Claire will look after you.’
He takes one more piece of pizza before leaving.
‘So,’ Claire says. ‘Tell me about these cameras?’
‘Where to begin,’ I say, releasing all the air in my lungs. ‘The police have found them all now but they’re still trying to figure out how they got in there. They’re tracking down the people who have stayed.’
‘Any progress?’
‘I haven’t heard anything else. The door code had been changed but he knew it. I think he might have been there before, maybe he was a guest.’
‘Wouldn’t it be traceable with credit cards? The cops will figure it out,’ she adds.
I poke out my lip, shake my head. ‘Who knows? I don’t want to guess why he did this. Maybe he was…’ I pause, drag my fingers through my hair and sniff back more tears. ‘Maybe he was inspired by what happened in Colorado. The difference is, that footage was leaked.’
‘Colorado?’
‘Last year, the WeStay murder.’
‘Oh, I remember.’ She’s still frowning, probably trying to think of something comforting to say.
‘The guy in Colorado wasn’t wearing a mask though,’ I continue. I’ve seen a single screenshot. A grinning psychopath, holding up a bloody knife to the camera. I’m beginning to feel sick again talking about it, imagining Daniel dying in his own blood. ‘This guy wanted to hide his identity.’
‘And who was watching that then? If it leaked? The same people who were watching you last night?’
‘Maybe,’ I say, exhaling. ‘I don’t know. Just creeps on the internet somewhere.’ A chill runs through me. ‘Guys that get off on it. Anyone who has the footage is obviously breaking the law, so I doubt it will get out. I can’t imagine the type of person to watch something like that. It just…’
Claire makes the face of someone holding something sour in her mouth. ‘God, it makes me mad. But at least you’ve got something to look forward to,’ she says. ‘I’m so bloody happy for you both.’ She sits close. ‘What do you want to do?’
‘I just want to forget it. I want to take my mind off everything.’
‘TV?’
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘Put something on.’
Claire finds a trashy reality dating show, a group of singles on a tropical island, add ex-lovers and light the fuse with clear spirits. We indulge in meandering, mind-numbing chat. She catches me up on what is happening on the show, whose ex is whose and which people are enemies.
‘So,’ she says, getting up to make a cup of tea. ‘What’s happening with work?’
Work. I’d forgotten all about it. I’m supposed to be back on Tuesday.
I mention Scotty, and the mistake he made assuming a triple A was a stroke. For the rest of the night Claire helps me forget about what we went through. When Cain came home from Afghanistan I took leave to care for him, but when I went back to work, and before Axel returned from his tour, Claire was there, helping out. Cooking and keeping Cain company during the day. She’s always been there for us.
At some time around ten, after Axel has been away for a few hours, I doze off against her shoulder and we don’t wake until I hear the door close, and see Cain’s bandaged head emerge from the top of the stairs.
I stand, and rush into his arms. He bends, squeezes me. He’s in a t-shirt and jeans I don’t recognise. He has two black eyes.
‘It’s okay,’ he assures me. ‘It’s over now. I’ve got you.’
‘I know,’ I say, hopeless tears pressing at my eyes again. ‘Are you okay?’
He steps back, gives me that smile that’s all dimples, but it’s pained. ‘I feel like I’ve just gone thirty rounds with Tyson Fury, but I’ll survive.’
‘Gone thirty rounds and somehow come out on top,’ Axel says, giving him a thump on the back that might have sent a smaller man sprawling. ‘Home now, mate. Safe and sound.’
‘Spoke with the police again before I left,’ Cain says, thumbing his tired eyes.
‘What did they say?’ I a
sk as we move back into the lounge and sit down. Could they have made the connection between Daniel and me? Would they share that information with my husband? It’s late, the fatigue has settled deep into my marrow but my mind is not ready for sleep.
‘Not much really. Still piecing everything together. I wouldn’t hold my breath.’ He winces as he sits, a hint of the pain he’s in. The painkillers from the hospital must be wearing off. I want to tell him about the baby, I want to give him good news but I’ll wait until we are alone later tonight, or perhaps in the morning.
I kiss him now and speak gently, close to his ear. ‘I’m so glad you’re home, I’ve been missing you like crazy.’
TWENTY-TWO
THEY’RE ALL USING the same photo of Daniel. We see it on the news the next night – barely out of high school, clean shaven, free of tattoos, hair a boyish fuzz but with those deep green eyes. It’s strange seeing him now, so much younger. Fresh and ready to face the uncertain future. I’ll never understand why the media choose to use the most inappropriate photos for victims and criminals alike. I don’t want to see this happy photo of him, this normal boy on the fringes of adulthood. I just want to see the real Daniel, the one that was going to kill me. I want the world to see him accurately. I don’t want to carry this guilt around.
‘As much as I hate what he did to us, I almost feel sorry for him. He just looks like a normal bloke,’ Cain says, beside me on the couch. ‘Doesn’t look like the sort of person who would do all this. Mind you, I saw blokes, normal blokes, become animals over there.’ Over there being his favourite euphemism for war.
When he turns to me, he realises I’m crying again – there’s been a lot of it lately.
‘Sorry, Lina. That was dumb. I don’t feel sorry for him. I don’t know why I said that. He’s a monster.’
‘It’s fine,’ I say. I can’t quite place this particular sadness. It might be the fatigue catching up, or maybe new hormones from the pregnancy. It could be everything. I remember the flash of the gun, the gurgling sound. Then I walked away and left him to die. ‘Bad people, people like him, don’t make their badness obvious. They look normal from the outside. They hide it away.’ I find my mind inexplicably going to Scotty now. He’s the type of guy that can hide something away from the world, his drug use, certain attitudes he has.