Cold Deception (14 page)

“Yes,” she said, injecting what she hoped was just the right amount of bright friendliness into her voice. “I will.” She waited until Dee disappeared up the stairs. “Contrary to what I said earlier, I really do appreciate you staying here tonight. Everyone feels much safer.” Even in her ears she sounded pompous and artificial. “I mean… I…” She started tripping over her words, which got worse as his sharp gaze pinned her like a butterfly in a display case.

She pushed her dishevelled hair away from her face. “Look. I’m sorry. Everything I say to you seems to come out the wrong way. I guess I’m still trying to work out how to live in this world and I didn’t expect you to—”

“To what? To help you? To be a human being?”

“Something like that,” she said, in a small voice. She took in a deep breath and let it out with a whoosh. “None of my experiences with the police have been particularly good. But you’re a friend of Dee’s and she doesn’t make friends with people who are… are…”

“Psychopaths?”

She threw up her hands in defeat and plonked herself down in an armchair. “Shit. I can’t do this. I’m kidding myself.”

Dylan considered the woman in front of him with surprise. He didn’t intend to make it any easier for her. He settled himself onto the couch and sipped his coffee, studying her. She wore a battered old woollen sweater over stripped men’s pyjama bottoms. Her feet were thrust into some old shoes and her hair was a rat’s nest. At the moment she gazed at him with something like gloomy resignation in her eyes. He firmly shut down all thoughts of her as anything other than someone who had information he wanted. If he could just get her to trust him, she might tell him all about O’Reardon’s drug trafficking in jail.

“Can’t do what?” he said.

“Have a reasonable conversation with anyone without sounding like an idiot. I have arrested development.”

He snorted with laughter.

“Don’t laugh. It’s true,” she said with feigned dignity. “I went into jail when I was barely out of teenager-hood, and now I’m expected to behave like an adult. I feel like I’ve just come out of a convent.” She shrunk into the armchair, scowling. “Every time I open my mouth, I offend someone.”

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard jail described as a convent.”

“You’d be surprised,” she said. “There are lots of similarities. No men, except for prison officers, lots of repression, and a twisted view of the real world.”

“I don’t think convents are like that anymore,” he said, willing to play.

“My point exactly. They saw how destructive living that way was, so they changed. Can’t see that happening anytime soon with jail.”

“No, I suppose not.” He smiled at her over the rim of his cup. A slow warmth settled through his bones when she smiled back and held his gaze, the beginnings of a flirtatious gleam in her eyes.

And just like that, it was gone. She dropped her eyes and climbed out of the chair.

“I’ll leave you alone to get some sleep if you can.”

“What are you frightened of?” He didn’t know why he’d blurted out the question, but it made her stop.

She stood in profile to him, her whole body thrumming with tension. Fight or flight? She looked as though she was trying to decide. Finally, her shoulders slumped and she turned to him a wry smile on her face.

“Frightened?” She sat back on her chair and ran her fingers through her long hair, pushing it off her face. “Where to begin?” she muttered. “I was in a shop the other day. Ma had leant me her cell phone but I didn’t know how to work it. It rang and I panicked. Didn’t have a clue what to do with it. The shop keeper freaked out when she saw my face on the front of the local newspaper. I guess she doesn’t get convicted murderers in her place very often. She wasn’t as horrible as the newsagent but she was close. So I guess, yeah, there are a few things I’m anxious about.”

“That wasn’t what I meant.”

“No? Then what did you mean?”

He sipped his coffee and continued to watch her, debating on whether to bring it out in the open. ‘It’ being whatever was happening between them.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, with a burst of welcome good sense. “Thanks for the coffee. You should go get some sleep.”

She didn’t move but sat with a quizzical frown on her face.

“And what are
you
frightened of?”

He grunted out a laugh. “That’s a long list.”

“Yeah?” She stopped as if wanting to ask some more but not sure of the wisdom of the question. He knew all about that dilemma. When she opened her mouth to speak, he realized whatever good sense he’d drawn on was rapidly disappearing. Somehow he found himself not caring.

“When you first met me, you made a comment about being judge, jury, and executioner.”

He winced. “I know. I thought I’d apologized.”

She waved that away. “That doesn’t matter. But it made me think you had a pretty strong reaction to someone who was convicted of taking matters into their own hands. Being a vigilante.”

He let out a sigh and reached forward to put his cup on the coffee table. “Yeah. I guess that’s true.” He didn’t offer more, but didn’t count on her ability to wait. “I worked on the Dale Rowe case.”

“Ah,” she said, a look of sadness in her eyes. “The lovely Alisha.”

“You know her. Of course you do.”

She nodded. “I was in the working in the reception wing as a sweeper when they bought her in. She was screaming and crying she had nothing to do with murdering her daughter.” She sighed. “Most of us knew as soon as we saw her that wasn’t true. She insisted her boyfriend had done it.”

“Yeah, well, she convinced her neighbors. They lynched him.”

“I remember. A couple of them went down for his murder didn’t they?”

He nodded, remembering the sanctimonious drug-addled ravings of the two main offenders. When they found out Dale Rowe had nothing to do with little Eva’s murder and that they were both looking at long stretches inside, they fell over themselves to blame each other.

“And she eventually went down as well,” Julia said with another sigh. “She and I belong to the same club.”

“You’re nothing like her,” he said sharply. “Nothing.”

“And yet there we were in Dillwynia hanging out our washing and chewing the fat. That was after she got out of the nut house.” She laughed shortly. A bleak and hopeless sound. “Which gave us even more in common.”

A spike of fury made his pulse quicken. “She was a monster.”

“A monster? That hoary old chestnut. What makes her more a monster than me? Because she killed a child and I killed a pedophile priest? Am I a better class of murderer?”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said, trying to control his anger. “What you did was wrong but you faced up to it. Not only did she deny what she’d done, she did everything she could to pin it on her hapless boyfriend, knowing he’d be on the top of the list of suspects. We all know loser boyfriends are more likely to kill their de facto’s kids than anyone else. That’s what everyone thought. That’s why he ended up a charred mess of flesh and bones lying on a vacant lot in Shalvey. The result of her manipulation and lies.”

Julia watched his growing distress with concern. His face was chalk white and his hands were curled into tight fists in his lap.

“Is that why you moved up here? To get away from all that?”

He glared at her but something about her question seem to diffuse his rage. He scrubbed his face with his hands and leaned back in the couch.

“Sorry. It was a bad time for me. Dead babies and burnt bodies are not a great mix. But that wasn’t the only reason I moved up here. My marriage broke up and I needed a change.”

“Away from Western Sydney to the peaceful upper mountains.”

He snorted. “Yeah, right. Not with O’Reardon around. Drugs and violence go hand in hand. The mountains unfortunately are not immune.”

And there it was. The elephant in the room. He wanted something from her about O’Reardon and she couldn’t give it to him.

Silence descended as they stared at each other.

“Time to let you get some sleep,” Julia said as she climb out of her chair.

She passed him on the way to the stairs.

“Jules.”

She stopped and turned.

“Thanks for the coffee.”

She nodded and climbed the stairs, leaving him to ponder until dawn.

Sleep eluded Julia. At six o’clock she gave up and decided to start the day. She threw herself into the shower, dressed in jeans and a new, closely-fitting black sweater then tied her hair up with a clip. Hesitating, she shrugged and put on some tiny fake emerald earrings. A bit of color wouldn’t hurt.

She crept down the stairs not wanting to wake Dylan but curiosity set in, pushing her to check on him. She poked her head around the lounge room door and saw him face down asleep on the couch. He’d removed his sweater and the quilt had slid off his torso.

Okay
…

The fire had burnt down so the house was chilly. Paralyzed with indecision, she hovered in the hallway.

“Damn it,” she muttered and crept in to cover him.

Her pulse hammered as she reached for the quilt. She could touch him, just slide her hand across the smooth, hard plane of his back. If he woke she would say it was cold and she was covering him. That wouldn’t be a lie. Her hand twitched…

He grabbed her wrist.

She jumped and let out a small scream.

“Shit! You scared me.”

He’d turned over but still held her. His chest, with a narrow line of hair disappearing into his unbuttoned jeans, made her mouth go dry.

“It’s cold. The quilt fell off,” she stammered.

He stared at her, a small smile in the corner of his mouth.

“Time to get up anyway,” he said, letting go of her.

She stepped back but couldn’t look away as he stretched and ran his hands though his hair. Hot, insistent lust hit her right in the pit of her belly and traveled down. She had to stop herself from stepping forward, straddling him, and letting her hands roam over his chest and up into his hair. She would move against him…

She turned away and made for the kitchen, grateful for the noises she could hear from above. “I’ll put some more coffee on. Would you like some toast?”

He murmured something that sounded like a yes. As she busied herself in the kitchen she made herself think of what she needed to do on the house.

“How’s the hand?”

She spun around to find him close to her, too close. He lifted her hand and inspected it while her heart raced. She prayed he couldn’t see her blush but, from the heat on her face, she was certain he could.

He frowned. “You won’t be doing much with this for a day or so. You really should bind it up.”

“It’s fine.” She pulled away then turned back to the toaster. “Are you going to look for the pills now? Do you think you’ll find them?”

He shrugged. “Probably not. If she did a good job of it, the package will be right on the valley floor. Call me cynical, but I can’t see Rez climbing down all that way in the freezing cold with no certainty they’re still there.”

“I guess not.”

The toaster made a ticking noise which sounded deafening in the silence. He leaned on the kitchen counter and crossed his arms, a frown on his face.

“What is it you don’t like? Me or what I do?”

A spike of adrenaline surge through her. She let her eyes search his face then turned quickly away.

“I don’t dislike you.”

“You’re nervous around me.”

“Aren’t a lot of people like me nervous around you?” She couldn’t look at him. If she did, she’d start stammering and blathering.

He smiled and her pulse pounded. “Only if they’re guilty of something. What are you guilty of?”

She turned to face him and got lost for a moment in his gray eyes. She never knew gray could be so compelling. Like the tumbling mist in the valley…

He raised his hand and gently flipped her earring.

“Pretty.”

She closed her eyes when his hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing her lips. He gasped and drew in a ragged breath when her lips enclosed him. She opened her eyes and saw the mist transform into a storm as she gently sucked on his thumb. He moved closer to her. Unable to resist, she slid her hand under his sweater, across the smooth hardness of his back. Heat, wild and freeing, surged through her. A long forgotten pulse of need throbbed between her legs. She wanted him, she could have him…

The clattering of someone coming down the stairs made them spring apart like guilty teenagers.

“Ah, you’re up.” Eleanor bustled into the kitchen. “And coffee made. Excellent.” She reached for a cup and gave a quick good morning kiss to Julia.

“Did you get any sleep, Dylan? We’re so grateful you’re here. And you know, I think the whole experience has been a turning point for Blossom. She’s angry with Rez now which is a whole lot better than mooning about him. Hopefully, she’ll be in a better frame of mind to get herself together. What’s that you’re making? Toast? Come on. We can do better than toast for this poor man. How about some omelets? Set you up for the day. Get out of the way. I’ll make them.”

Julia let her mother take over and fled to the back veranda. This was impossible. She held her hands to her overheated face and took in deep breaths of the cold, clear mountain air.

Get a grip. This can’t happen. A convicted criminal and a serving member of the police force does not make for happily ever after.
Not that she believed in happily ever after, even in the best of circumstances.

Eleanor called from the kitchen. “The omelets are ready.”

After building up the fire, she made her way back to the kitchen with a pounding heart, determined to put Dylan out of her mind. Easier said than done when he took up so much space in this house of women. Dee and Blossom had appeared which made him seem even more like a wild male animal. He sat at the end of the table, unshaven and tousled, wolfing down omelet and toast. She wanted to devour him. Slipping onto a chair, she played with her food and avoided looking at him.

Tried to at any rate. She couldn’t resist a quick glance only to see his gaze resting on her, a look of burning intensity on his face, as if she was a puzzle he needed to work out. Her gaze seemed to decide something for him. He shook himself, smiled at Dee and Eleanor then pushed back his chair with a clatter.

“I have to go. Thanks for the omelet Ellie. I may need to speak with you later today, Bloss. I’ll call you.”

With that, he scooped up his keys and jacket and disappeared through the back door.

“Thanks, Dylan,” Eleanor yelled after him.

Dee frowned at Julia. “What was all that about?”

“What?”

“He couldn’t wait to get out of here. Did the two of you have words?”

Julia shook her head.

Dee continued to frown at her while Blossom made strangled noises into her tea cup.

“What’s wrong with you?” Dee snapped at her irritably. “This isn’t something to laugh about.”

Blossom snorted. “I don’t think they exchanged words.”

“You need to put some more ice on that eye.” Julia grabbed Blossom’s arm and pulled her toward the bathroom.

“Hey! That hurts! Stop it,” Blossom said, her voice filled with laughter.

Julia pushed her down the corridor and into the bathroom. Part of her was happy to hear Blossom laughing, but she still slammed the door and took in a deep breath.

“Don’t go there, Bloss.”

“What do you mean?” she said, giggling.

“You know what I mean. It’s an aberration that will go away. He’s attractive and I’m just getting back into the world. It doesn’t mean anything. I’m finding my way.”

“What about him?” Blossom said, suddenly serious. “He’s not exactly ignoring you.” She stared at Julia with pain-filled eyes. “He’s a good man, Jules. He went out of his way to try and keep me out of jail when he didn’t have to. He likes you. Maybe you should let yourself have some fun.” She turned to look at herself in the mirror. “You gave up a lot. You don’t have to anymore.”

A knot of dread tightened in Julia’s belly. “What do you mean?”

Blossom glanced at her in the mirror as she gingerly touched the swollen flesh around her eye.

“I know what you did. I know you took the blame for Father Pat instead of me.”

“No! That’s not true! Where did you get that idea?”

Blossom turned to face her with tears in her eyes. “From my dreams. From memories that have been leaching into my mind for the past six months. It’s weird the way the drugs brought it all back. I was there with Father Pat. I don’t remember stabbing him but I remember the blood. All that blood, all over me.” She shuddered and hugged herself tight.

Julia shook her head. “It wasn’t like that, Bloss.” She took in a deep breath. Everything depended on what she could make Blossom believe. “What do you remember of that day?”

Blossom shuddered again. “I remember there was a school camp down south at Bundanoon. Father Pat came with us. But we came back early because it got rained out. And I was getting sick I think. Fluey. He insisted I drive back in his car rather than the bus. I remember the car and getting closer to home, but I can’t remember a lot of what happened. I think he told me we had to go to his place to pick up something before he could take me home.”

Her voice sounded dreamy and disconnected. Julia grasped her hand which seemed to bring her back to the present. “He must’ve drugged me.”

“No. That’s crazy. When he bought you home, you were really sick. So sick I thought I’d have to take you to the hospital. You were hallucinating. I got you into bed and gave you some paracetamol and you slept for twelve hours straight. While you were asleep I went up to see Father Pat… to confront him. I wasn’t thinking straight to have left you alone when you were so sick.

“But I remember the knife. I remember holding the knife.”

“You weren’t there, Blossom. I don’t know why you keep thinking you were. Have you talked about this with Douglas?”

Blossom stared at her for long seconds as if her gaze could penetrate her skull and into the truth lodged in her brain. Julia stared back unflinching, willing her sister to believe her.

Blossom turned away from her. “He thinks I’m deluded. He’s nice. I like him, but he’s wrong like you. I know you’re lying.”

“No I’m not! Stop being a drama queen. Just accept what I say. Listen to Douglas. Let him help you.”

A sharp rap on the bathroom door made both of them jump.

“What’s going on? What are you doing in there?”

“Just fixing Blossom’s eye, Ma. We’ll be out in a minute.” Julia took her sister by the arms and shook her. “Stop this craziness, Blossom,” she hissed. “You didn’t do it. Let it go.”

Blossom wrenched herself away from her sister’s arm and flung open the bathroom door. She smiled at her mother.

“Aren’t we having a party for Dee soon? We better get to work.”

Julia stared into the bewildered face of her mother.

“She’s right. Let’s get going shall we?”