Missing (The Cass Lehman Series Book 3) (22 page)

‘Let’s hope,’ Phil said.

‘And the search at the dump?’ Dave asked.

‘Sorenson’s going to pull the plug at the end of the week. The council that runs the place has been raising hell over the fact that we’ve kept it closed as long as we have.’

‘Anything useful from the rubbish around the remains?’ Ed asked.

‘The crime-scene guys are still sifting through it all, with the help of the SES volunteers. Those guys are awesome. They’ve been out there combing the grid they’ve set up and making sure all of us are fed and watered. They haven’t found much so far, though. I’ll check in with them again tomorrow,’ Phil said. She studied Ed. He was gazing into the middle distance. His eyes were bloodshot and there were blue circles under them. She frowned. Dave noticed her look.

‘I don’t know about you, Ed, but I’m bushed. How about we hit the road? We can grab a kebab on the way through,’ Dave said.

Ed smiled tiredly. Nothing in Dave’s world was done without planning for meals.

‘Sounds good. I’ll just duck out the back first.’ He wandered off in the direction of the men’s room.

‘Thank you,’ Phil said to Dave. ‘He wouldn’t have listened to me if I’d told him to go home.’

Dave looked at her and was surprised to see the first genuine smile she’d given him since they’d met.

Ed woke to find Dave bending over him, the passenger-side door open.

‘Wake up, sunshine. You’re home.’

He blinked a few times, trying to focus. With a supreme effort he hauled himself out of the car. ‘Thanks, man.’

‘Here.’ Dave thrust something into his hand. It was a foil takeaway food container.

‘What’s this?’

‘Dinner. You gotta eat. I didn’t want to wake you when we got to the kebab place so I got yours takeaway.’

‘Thanks.’ Ed wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words. There was a lot more to Dave than he’d given him credit for.

‘Do you want me to go back with you in the morning?’ Dave asked.

‘Nope, stay here. Check in with the lab. We need those DNA results. Write up the reports about yesterday and keep Crackers happy. I’ll drive myself. I’ll check in with you to see how it’s all going.’

‘You don’t need to. I’ll ring Phil and give her an update if I hear anything. We’ll work together while you’re out of action.’

‘What, you guys are mates now?’ Ed had to smile.

‘Something like that.’ Dave grinned back. ‘Such a waste …’

‘Don’t go there,’ Ed warned.

‘Just jerking your chain.’

They said their goodbyes and Ed made for the front door. He let himself in, shoved the kebab in the fridge and headed straight upstairs to the bedroom. Too tired to bother undressing, he kicked off his shoes, fell onto the bed and tugged the quilt half over himself. Thirty seconds later he was asleep.

PART III

Deliver us from Evil

CHAPTER
23

I woke from a dream about garlic prawns. It was a dish Gran cooked on special occasions. I was just about to wolf down a steaming plateful of creamy, buttery, garlicky goodness when I jerked awake. I blinked a few times, struggling to remember where I was. The smell of garlic lingered. I looked around. Ed was sitting by my bed. I was in hospital. The sound that had woken me was the howling of a woman in labour.

‘Hey you.’ He got up and bent to give me a kiss.

I wrinkled my nose. The source of the garlic fumes was suddenly apparent. ‘You trying to keep vampires away?’ I said.

‘What?’

‘Is there a reason you stink of garlic at …’ I squinted at the clock next to my bed, ‘… 9am?’

He grinned at me. ‘I might have had a kebab for breakfast.’

I sat up, the memories from the day before flooding back. I reached up and touched my head. It was bandaged and ached like buggery. A pang of anxiety ripped through me. ‘Mum and Gran?’

‘I’ve been over to see them already. Your mum’s awake and grumpy as all hell because she’s not allowed to come and see you. Your gran’s still the same.’

‘Which is?’

‘In a coma.’

I dropped my head and stared at my hands against the white hospital sheets. This was all my fault. If I hadn’t got involved in police business I wouldn’t have triggered the chain of events that brought Jenson into our lives.

‘It’s not your fault,’ Ed said, reading my thoughts.

I looked at him. I knew he meant it, but his words brought no comfort.

‘Morning, love! Cup of tea or coffee?’ An orderly strode into the room. She was middle-aged, well rounded and full of smiles and sunshine. ‘Where’s the little one? Still in the nursery? You two look like you’ve had a rough night. Never mind, it gets easier.’

I looked at her blankly, then it dawned on me. ‘Oh, um, yes, I’m sure it does. I’ll have tea please.’ I couldn’t be bothered explaining. Ed opened his mouth then shut it again, thinking better of it.

‘And what about dad? Tea or coffee for you, love?’

‘Um, coffee, thanks,’ Ed said.

She served us and bustled out again. Ed and I looked at each other.

‘Well, that was awkward,’ I said.

He smiled. ‘Maybe we’ll be back here for real one day?’

‘Maybe.’ I met his eyes for a millisecond then looked away. There was so much we needed to say to each other, but now wasn’t the time. One thing I knew for sure though, any angst I had about our relationship had paled into insignificance when he’d stormed into the room the day before. My heart told me what my head couldn’t. I wanted to be with him.

‘How about I take you to see your mum and gran, and then home? I thought I’d stay down here for a few days and run you and your mum back and forth to the hospital.’

‘What about your case?’

‘Phil’s in charge. I’m confident she won’t eat Dave alive.’

‘I admire your optimism.’

‘Crackers is cutting me a bit of slack given the circumstances. I figured I’d work reduced hours from Fairfield.’

‘I don’t want you to put yourself out on my account.’

He sighed. ‘I’m not putting myself out. I want to help. I want to be with you when you need me.’

I felt myself tearing up and had to blink like mad to clear my eyes. If I started crying I might not stop.

I drank my tea and then banished Ed while I showered and got dressed. The modesty was probably a bit ridiculous given that he’d seen me naked plenty of times, but I felt like shit, and I didn’t
want an image of my bare butt hanging out of a hospital gown to be part of his collection of memories.

I couldn’t believe how exhausted I was after such a short burst of activity. I sat on the bed and waited for Ed to come back. My room was an island floating in a sea of sound: voices, bells ringing, babies crying, women yelling out in labour, trolleys chugging down the hallway. I wanted to go home. Tears threatened again and I brushed them away. Home wasn’t the same anymore.

Ed knocked and poked his head around the door. ‘Ready?’

‘Is the kitchen …?’ I let the sentence dribble to a halt. Images of Mum’s blood pooled on the floor flashed through my mind.

‘I was going to go and sort it out before I came to see you this morning, but Phil had beaten me to it.’

I closed my eyes with relief. When I opened them, Ed had pushed a wheelchair into the room.

‘I don’t need that,’ I said.

‘I know. I just thought it might help. If I keep you moving quickly you might not have any visions?’

I thought about it. If I were moving quickly, maybe I wouldn’t be on a spot where someone had died for long enough. ‘It’s worth a try, although I don’t think it helped last time I was in a hospital,’ I said.

‘Even if it doesn’t work I can get you out of here before anyone asks too many questions.’

I climbed into the chair and we made our way out of the room and past the nurses’ station. I picked up my discharge instructions
and we left the maternity ward. I half expected someone to tell me I’d forgotten my baby on the way out.

The corridors that ran towards the general wards were less crowded than in Maternity, and the mood more sombre. People weren’t visiting for happy reasons. The décor was different too. Gone were the happy decals of frolicking animals, balloons and flowers, replaced by plain green walls dotted with signage and the occasional framed print. The vastness of the green expanse made the artwork look like postage stamps swimming in a sea of pea soup.

Our first destination was Mum’s room. I could hear her voice from twenty metres away, in the strident tone she usually saved for people who were stupid, rude or both. We found her propped up against a wall of pillows. Her arm was in a sling, her hair a riotous halo and the expression on her face pure belligerence. A harried-looking nurse was holding a medicine cup with some capsules in it. She was young, early twenties, short and slim with pale brown hair pulled back in a neat bun. They both swung their attention towards us as we entered.

‘Cass! Ed!’ Mum exclaimed, a smile banishing her scowl.

‘Mum! I’m so glad you’re OK. I’m so sorry …’

‘Stop. Don’t.’

‘But …’

‘It’s not your fault, and I’m not going to let you go there.’ The frown was back.

Ed had pushed me up to her bed and I stood up and bent over her, hugging her awkwardly, careful not to touch her hurt shoulder.

‘You’re looking better, Anita,’ Ed said.

‘Better than what?’ Mum said.

‘So what’s the story?’ I looked at her and then the nurse who’d been standing patiently to one side.

‘They think I need to stay here another night. They’re worried about infection.’

‘Your mother has a temperature. The doctor wants to make sure the wound isn’t infected. She needs to take some antibiotics and paracetamol for the fever,’ the nurse said, waving the cup in Mum’s direction.

That explained the strident tone. Mum hated taking pills. She was a firm believer in naturopathic remedies — so long as it was her health at issue. If Gran or I got sick, she was the first one rushing off to the chemist for drugs to shove down our throats just to be on the safe side.

‘If you want to come home tomorrow, Mum, you’d better take the medicine, otherwise you could be in here a lot longer.’ I locked eyes with the nurse, willing her to back me up. She caught my eye.

‘That’s right, Mrs Lehman. If that wound gets infected, you could be in here for several more days.’

Mum scowled. ‘This is blackmail.’ She held out her hand for the cup. The nurse passed it to her, along with a cup of water, and Mum downed the contents.

‘There. Happy?’ She glared at all of us.

‘Excellent. Now that wasn’t so hard was it?’ The nurse beamed at Mum.

Mum gave her a look that would have sent me scurrying for cover.

‘I’ll check on you in another hour. Don’t talk for too long, you need your rest.’ The last statement was said to Mum, but the accompanying look was clearly directed at me and Ed.

‘We won’t stay long,’ I said.

The nurse left. Ed took a chair on the other side of the bed and we all sat there, suddenly lost for words.

‘Have you seen Gran?’ Mum finally asked.

‘No, we’re going there next.’

Mum dipped her head. ‘What happened, Cass? I don’t remember anything past being shot.’

‘He made Gran try to heal him again after you’d been shot. It was horrible, Mum. I could see her precious energy draining away,’ I said.

‘I don’t really understand why he was letting her try to heal him,’ Ed said.

‘She told him she could heal his emotional pain.’

‘She wasn’t strong enough for that,’ Mum said.

I covered my face with my hands.

‘What?’ Mum demanded.

‘He had his eyes closed. I managed to grab the gun off his lap. He opened his eyes just before I shot him and he told me I didn’t need to shoot him because he was feeling wonderful.’

Mum reached out and took my hand. ‘So why did you?’

‘Because he was killing Gran. She was getting weaker and weaker, and I was worried she was going to die in front of me.

Ed reached out and took both of our hands.

‘Listen, you two. I understand what Cass just told you but not many people would. That never leaves this room, OK? You shot him because he lunged at you and you were scared he was going to kill you and your family. Got it?’

‘Phil said the same thing.’

‘Of course she did,’ Ed said.

‘It’s not far from the truth,’ Mum said.

‘Exactly, it’s just being economical with some of the facts. No one needs to know about Gwen’s talent. We don’t want a media frenzy.’

Mum nodded, her eyelids drooping. I stood up.

‘I think you’d better get some sleep. Arguing with the nurse has tired you out. We’ll go over and see how Gran’s going and pop back and see you before we go.’

‘Ed?’ Mum said.

‘Yes?’

‘I’m glad you’re staying at our place with Cass tonight.’ Her eyes twinkled.

‘Mum! You didn’t!’

She laughed.

I huffed with annoyance. She must have had a peek at Ed’s future when he was holding her hand.

‘I’m never going to get used to this family,’ Ed said, shaking his head.

He wheeled me out of the room and we wound our way along a few more corridors until we arrived at the High Dependency
Unit. The doors were locked and we had to sanitise our hands and buzz to be let through.