Necessary Evil of Nathan Miller (27 page)

I took a deep breath. "I'll give Nathan
a copy of everything I gave Mott, too. And other people have
copies. Just in case. And then I'll go into witness protection and
hope to hide." I paused, not wanting to consider that Mott was
right about Nathan's feelings for me. "Is it true that Nathan's
been offered full operative training and a five year contract? And
he won't be able to contact me while he's working for ASIO?"

Navid shrugged. "I have no idea.
Applications are handled in Canberra. If he has, and you
disappear…it's true that we aren't permitted to consort with
contacts, witnesses and suspects outside of standard work
arrangements. You won't see or hear from him, especially if you’re
in witness protection." He glanced at me. "You should ask Nathan
about that."

I shook my head. "No. Nathan has no
idea I know who he works for and I think he prefers it that way.
Mott's going to negotiate that with Nathan. He said…Nathan will
take the job."

Navid snorted. "And you believed
him?"

I didn't say anything. I wanted to
believe that Mott was a blatant liar as well as a bastard, but I
also wanted to believe that Nathan had been operating under his
orders…until he disobeyed them to help me. Only Nathan could tell
me the truth.

I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

Part 79

As Navid pulled out of the driveway, I
called Jo. Jason answered instead.

“
Just who I wanted to
speak to,” he drawled, as I thought the opposite. “How long before
you think you can play? We’ll lose our Freo gig if you can’t in two
weeks...”

“
A gig in Fremantle
won’t last long,” I replied impatiently. “I’ve arranged us a
recording contract and a live performance in Melbourne next Friday.
I need to talk to Jo and we need to book flights,
accommodation...”

“
You got us a
recording contract? How?” Jason shrieked.

“
Give me that,” Jo
demanded and her voice grew louder. “Caitlin? Why does Jason seem
to think we have a recording contract?”

“
We don’t yet, but we
will by next week,” I replied. “Part of...the interview that’s
airing next week. It’s a long story, but it’s true. We’ll sort out
the contract details next Friday morning and we have a live TV
appearance scheduled for that evening in Melbourne. If all goes to
plan, we’ll spend the following week recording our first
album.”

“
I...don’t believe
it,” she admitted. “How?”

“
I can’t really say,”
I hedged. I wondered if my phone was tapped. “Come over and we can
discuss the details. We also have to book the
flights...”

“
I’ll be right over,”
she responded. “Bye.”

Fifteen minutes later, she was indeed
over and I was able to show her Mott’s email, confirming what I’d
told her, including the name of the label we were apparently
signing with.

She reread the email twice, shaking her
head. “I thought you’d have to sleep with, kill or blackmail
someone to get a contract like this, but you...”

Did all three.
I forced a smile.
“I should have discussed the terms with you and Jason first, but
this is a better contract than we’d get any other way. Do you think
you’ll be able to go to Melbourne next week?”

She laughed. “I’ve already rung work to
take the time off. We need to get you some new clothes before we do
anything else – Melbourne shopping is just what you need. I think
we should leave tomorrow if we can.”

The last bastard will have to wait.
If he turns up at all – he might be sitting under a rock somewhere,
where slimy things like him hide.
“Okay,” I replied, my heart
feeling lighter.

“
You’re not bringing
Nathan, are you? I’m not dragging him shopping,” she
said.

I hadn’t even thought about Nathan. I
tried to hide my shock. “I...haven’t even mentioned it to him. It’s
not like I’ll need him in Melbourne.” I swallowed, suddenly feeling
very alone. Witness protection might feel just as lonely, if Nathan
chose his career over me and his own health.

“
Cool. Let’s head up
to the travel agent’s and sort out our flights and
accommodation.”

Part 80

Ambulance – Shots – Road – Police –
Blood – Nathan – Numb

Blood blossomed on Nathan’s shoulder,
painting a red flower on the chest of his shirt. He looked
horrified.

I threw myself on top of him, knocking
him over, so both of us lay flat on the road.

My breath caught in my throat. Was he
shot in the heart or lungs? I wanted to pull off his shirt and
check the damage, but getting my weird, twisted, numb hands to
grasp his shirt was hard to do.

"Don’t leave me," I told him,
raggedly.

He gaped like a fish out of water. His
mouth moved but no words came out.

Please, not his heart or lungs. Please
don’t let me watch this man die for helping me.

After a few moments, he made an effort
to speak. "It’s all right." He forced the words out. He said
something else, but it was drowned out by the shouting behind him,
between the police officer on the ground and two of his colleagues.
They made him hand over his weapon, pinning him to the ground like
some kind of criminal.

You shot the man who helped me, you
bastard.

Nathan's shirt was saturated with
blood. I’d never felt more helpless, unable to help myself or this
wounded man. This man I desperately didn’t want to die. I needed
him alive.

My voice was hoarse, partly from
emotion and partly from shouting earlier. "You said you’d never let
them hurt me again. You promised."

He just stared back at me, agony on his
face.

I tried to shift his shirt clear of the
wound, so I could see where he’d been shot, but my hands wouldn’t
cooperate. He pulled my hand away from his shirt, looking sad.

"Please..." I began, shifting off him
and back onto my knees. I touched my fingers to the road to steady
myself, then realised that the road was wet and my hands were
damaged, so I lifted my hand away, but it came away red. Fresh
blood, pooling on the road. How could he lose so much blood and
stay conscious?

The world slid sideways and went
dark.

Part 81

I debated whether to tell Nathan about
the trip, the contract and the new life I’d be living in Melbourne,
then realised I couldn’t. His boss was supposed to make the offer
to him and he might not have said anything yet. Part of witness
protection was not telling anyone – I couldn’t even tell
Nathan.

Fate had other ideas. Detective
McGuinness called, asking for both my memories and my ability to
identify my attackers. Apparently someone had noticed suspicious
activity near an old World War II bunker in some bushland down
south. When the local police had gone in to investigate, they’d
found dead bodies and evidence of someone being held captive in one
of the bunker chambers, so they’d called him in.

He didn’t need to say it. I already
knew he’d found where they’d held me. A forgotten war bunker, which
had probably seen no violence or action until my advent. Hopefully
it never would again.

His voice went all funny as he said
they’d had some help from ASIO in identifying what were apparently
terror suspects. Did I still have that ASIO operative watching my
every move?

I wondered how to tell him that Nathan
was with me, without letting Nathan know I knew who he worked
for.

“
Just put me on
speakerphone so he can hear me,” the Detective said after a moment,
probably guessing my dilemma.

I let him repeat a much abridged
version of the story he’d told me, followed by an urgent entreaty
to identify the bodies on Monday.

No, not Monday. I’d be in
Melbourne.

I stammered an excuse, without saying
where I’d be. “Tomorrow, maybe?” I suggested.

"We have a relative coming in at two,
so maybe…at three? Would that be too late for you? It's probably
best that you don't meet him, especially if you identify his son as
one of the men who…"

My money’s on Simon. The last
remaining bastard.
I swore to pack a knife. I’d stabbed him
once and this time I’d make sure it was fatal. He’d feared me from
the start and so he fucking should.

My eyes darted to Nathan, silently
asking him if he’d help me tie up this one last loose end. He
nodded, as if he understood completely. A man who’d kill for me.
Could anyone ask for more?

I’d miss him in Melbourne – and every
day if he chose to stay here instead of come with me. Could I blame
him for choosing his career over me, a girl so damaged I didn’t
know if I’d ever be right again?

I held out hope, all the same. Life had
been cruel enough to me lately – maybe I did deserve to have a
heart and some kindness, after all that had come my way.

One more man to kill...and my bad luck
would end.

Part 82

I checked the CD before I gave it to
Detective McGuinness. He shot strange glances at Nathan, like he
suspected more than either of us told him, but he didn’t say it
outright. Then he pulled out pictures of the bastards – all of them
taken in what I recognised as my house. I identified the pictures
as best I could, but this was one time the perpetual darkness was
far from my friend. I’d never seen some of their faces – Simon
included. I knew their voices and hands in the dark, but dead men
had neither voices nor sexual preferences.

I looked long and hard at the police
officer who’d shot Nathan, who he said had also shot at me. I hoped
he was the son Simon had spoken of – and I hoped that Simon was
here. I wondered if he was one of the people I’d seen earlier, but
I hadn’t recognised any voices. I needed him to speak before I
could kill him.

When we headed out into the car park, I
despaired of seeing him. Maybe Simon was hiding, far from my reach.
I’d brought the knife for nothing and I’d never be safe.

“
Excuse
me.”

Two words that both froze me and made
my day.

I saw the gun pointed at Nathan – he
aimed it too high for me to be his target – as he said, "You killed
my son. Give me the girl."

"I don't know what you're talking
about…" Nathan protested.

"I do.”

I slipped the knife from its sheath in
my sleeve, feeling the hard handle in my palm.

He kept the gun aimed at Nathan as he
repeated, "Give me the girl."

“
Let me do this,” I
murmured to Nathan, hoping he’d pull out his weapon if I needed him
to. I detached Nathan’s arm from mine with some difficulty and
strode forward.
It’s not the girl you’ll get, but what she wants
to give you.

"No, don't hurt her..." He sounded like
Chris, all over again.

The idiot kept his gun pointed at
Nathan over my shoulder.

"You killed my son," he whimpered.

I had no sympathy for him. This bastard
had almost killed me and so had his prick of a son.

“
No. Nathan killed
him for me. And he’ll kill you, too, if you so much as look at me
wrong. But I owe you something. Something I promised, if you ever
touched me again.” I jabbed low and hard, putting my full weight
behind the blow. I felt the blade sink deep into his groin. I
yanked it out again. “Now, you dickless bastard, I can keep
stabbing you until you die of your wounds or you can take the easy
way out. You so much as touch me and Nathan will shoot you. For
me.”

I saw the fear in his eyes. Fear and
pain. I almost felt pity, but then I remembered. He hadn’t even had
the guts to see the same in my eyes as he raped me in the dark.

I watched impassively as he stuck his
gun in his own mouth and ended his misery.

"Good riddance, Simon,” I spat. I
turned to Nathan, more relieved than I could say. "Now it's over
and I'm safe." I relaxed in his arms, before I realised what time
it was. "I have to get to the airport, Nathan.”

He looked from me to Simon’s body and
back to me, stammering the start of several sentences but not
finishing a single one.

I didn’t have time for him to make an
excuse, or explain to me what he’d hidden. Wishing I didn’t have
to, I said gently, "You have friends to call, to clean this up.
That's what they're good at, isn't it? Tell them you have the last
one."

I wanted to kiss the shocked look from
his face and tell him everything, but I didn’t dare. When I got
back from Melbourne – after Mott had made my offer. When maybe
Nathan would agree to come with me."I need to get to the airport.
May I borrow your car? I'll leave it at my house, with the keys on
the table inside the front door. You know where I keep the spare
house keys. You can get a lift with your colleagues, right?"

He didn’t want to stay and deal with
the mess. He wanted to come with me, but he couldn’t. Not yet.
Maybe...my heart hoped.

He gave me his keys and I remembered
the CD I’d wrapped in the printout for him. On every page I hadn’t
given to the police, I’d written as much, so he’d know what I had
and hadn’t told anyone. I didn’t tell him about the copy I’d given
to Mott – if it still existed. Crooked Mott might have destroyed it
already.

In the papers I’d told him how to meet
me, too, if he wanted to see me again, one last time before I left
for good. When he could tell me what his answer was to Mott’s
offer.

As I drove away, I couldn’t take my
eyes off his reflection in my rear-view mirror. I wanted him to
choose me.

Part 83

Our first morning in Melbourne, Jo told
me, “I’m not sharing a room with you any more. You thrash around so
much in your sleep...and you even screamed a couple of times. I’d
rather share a room with Jason – and the last time I did that, I
found another girl asleep in my bed one night. I’m sorry, but I
just can’t.”