Saving Rose

by Kate Genet

  It took an effort to dislodge that thought and listen to Rose.

  ‘Mummy and Daddy were mad,’ Rose said, fingers moving from buttons to Claire’s hair, several shades lighter than her own. ‘About my princesses. Mummy was telling Daddy off for buying another dress.’

  ‘Another dress?’ Claire wasn’t quite sure what they were talking about.

  ‘Another princess dress!’ Rose held up one chubby hand, the fingers splayed. ‘I have five of them. See – I can count. A pink one, a purple one, a blue one, and I don’t know the others.’

  ‘And your Daddy got you another one?’

  ‘He got me all of them, but Mummy wouldn’t let me have the new one.’ She lifted damp eyes to Claire. ‘She was mad about it.’

  ‘Not mad at you, I'm sure.’

  ‘Mad at Daddy,’ Rose whispered. ‘He broke the car and got me a dress and Mummy got real mad.’

  ‘Sometimes mummies and daddies get mad with each other, sweetheart. It’s not something you have to worry about. I promise.’

  ‘I want my teddy,’ Rose whispered. ‘I don’t want my princesses anymore. Mummy said she was fed up with them.’

  Claire head spun. ‘Okay. I’ll get you your teddy and, in the meantime, you can watch something else. What do you think about that?’

  Rose nodded. ‘Okay,’ she said, climbing down from Claire’s lap. ‘I’ll find something okay? I know where Gramma keeps everything. I can work the TV too.’

  Claire wasn’t surprised about that at all. She had no idea if every three-year-old was this competent, but Rose certainly was.

  ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘You find what you want to watch, and I’ll go organise that snack.’

  Little red curls bobbed in agreement, then Rose was on her hands and knees, sifting through the pile of children’s DVD’s. Claire watched her for a moment, then got up from the couch and went in search of her parents.

  ‘Mum,’ she said, finding Gracie in the kitchen kneading a great wallop of dough.

  ‘Yes?’ Gracie looked up, a sweet smattering of flour on her cheek. ‘How are you getting on, dear?’ Her eyes drifted to the dog that had followed Claire into the room and when she looked back at her daughter Claire thought she could read the same concern there she herself was feeling.

  ‘I don’t know what I'm doing,’ she confessed.

  Gracie didn’t bother pretending she didn’t know what Claire was saying.

  ‘You’re her mother’s age,’ she said.

  ‘That doesn’t explain the dog,’ Claire said, looking down into a deep pair of brown eyes. ‘Or Rose, for that matter. Not really. She should be clinging to you – she knows you and Dad much better.’

  ‘Ah, but you have a way about you that she recognises on some level. Same with the dog.’

  Claire didn’t feel enlightened. She shook her head.

  Her mother shrugged, offered a smile. ‘You’re a strong person, Claire. Strong, confident, competent. Children and dogs recognise that, and like it.’

  She couldn’t help it and rolled her eyes at the woman slapping dough around on the counter. ‘I don’t feel either of those things at the moment,’ she said. ‘Kids, dogs; I'm totally out of my depth.’

  ‘Nope,’ Gracie said on a smile. ‘You’re really not. You’re doing wonderfully with both of them.’

  ‘Which brings me to the next thing, and it’s really important,’ Claire said, sighing. ‘We need to keep Danny away from Rose.’ Her voice had dropped to a whisper, even though there was singing coming from the other room now as Rose’s DVD started up. ‘Jeeze,’ Claire said, turning to the sound. ‘She really does know how to operate that thing.’

  Her mother was staring at her. ‘Back up a moment, Claire. What did you say?’

  ‘Danny. He’s not who we thought he was, and I don’t want Rose anywhere near him until I know for sure she’d be safe.’

  Gracie left the dough where it was, dried her hands off and planted them on her hips. ‘What are you talking about?’

  There was nothing for it. ‘This,’ she said. ‘It’s Zoe’s phone; I picked it up when she had her accident.’ She pressed a few buttons and passed the device to her mother. ‘I really don’t want to show you these, but I need you to understand.’

  Her mother took the phone and looked at the photograph enlarged on the screen, her face crumpling into an anguished frown.

  ‘Why are you showing me this?’ she asked. ‘The poor girl. Who is she? One of Zoe’s clients?’

  Claire shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’ She remembered the photograph on the floor of Danny’s study. ‘I think it’s Danny sister. And I think it was Danny who took the picture.’ She closed her eyes for a moment.

  ‘And I think that’s why Zoe called me so upset, saying she had to get Rose away from him.’

  47

  The call rang through, then snapped onto voicemail and told him nothing. Nothing at all. Danny looked in disgust at his own phone then on a furious impulse cocked back his arm and sent the cell phone flying across the carpark and into the dark grass where the hills dipped sharply down to look at the bay far below.

  ‘Fuck!’ he screamed. Wherever Zoe’s phone had ended up, it certainly wasn’t in her handbag or anywhere with the things he’d picked up from Colin.

  He hadn’t seen it in the car either when he’d been searching it. Zoe’s car, that was. The best he could hope for was that it had dropped underneath the vehicle, maybe when they were pulling her out of the thing. Or maybe some opportunistic kid had got their grubby mitts on it.

  Either way, it wasn’t giving up any information to him. It was no help at all. There was no way to see if Zoe had called her police friend or not.

  Danny found himself chewing on a fingernail, a habit he’d trained himself out of after the death of his parents. Disgusted, he spat it out and rapped his knuckles on his head instead.

  ‘Think!’ he yelled. ‘Think!’

  Everything was bubbling around inside him. Memories of Rachel, his parents, the fire, Zoe, Rose. All of it swirled around in his head, fogging his thinking. He squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated.

  He had to keep his shit together. That was the priority. And deal with things in a calm, logical manner, one point at a time.

  The first point, then. What was the first point?

  Should he go back down the hill, wind his way back around the harbour to Frank and Gracie’s house and pick up his daughter? Say thank you very much but he would take it from here? They couldn’t stop him, even if they wanted to. He was the girl’s father. They couldn’t deny his rights, and why would they even try? They knew they were only looking after her until he got back. Hell, they were probably expecting him.

  He shook his head. If he had Rose with him, he wouldn’t be able to move around, do what needed to be done. Sure, he could get straight on a plane with her, if planes were even flying, or he could strap her in the car and they could hit the road, keep going until they got to Picton, head over the Strait to the airport in Wellington, and be in Aussie by the next morning.

  But if he did that, the police could still come looking for him. And knowing the stupid pigs, they’d listen to Jeanette when she went bleating to them about how the nasty man killed her daughter.

  It was a strain to remember, because Zoe had made him so angry, but he was pretty damned sure she’d said that Jeanette was convinced that whatever photo she had in her grimy little hands showed him standing there at the park that day with Sahara. He’d seen in Zoe’s eyes that she believed it too. She thought he’d killed Sahara.

  He needed to pay Jeanette a little visit. Now, while it was still morning and she was still trailing around the house in her dressing gown, eyes like a racoon’s with smeared makeup. He’d pay her a visit before she got it into her head to go to the police.

  Yesterday’s earthquake had been a real blessing, but he couldn’t let too much time go by thinking he could ride on the chaos it caused. At some stage Sahara’s mother would stop thinkin
g about the earthquake and go back to thinking about him.

  Unless he got to her first and made sure she had nothing to show the police.

  Not giving a toss about his phone – what could he possibly need it for now anyway? – Danny turned back to the car and slid into the driver’s seat. Zoe’s handbag went flying into the back seat out of sight and he patted the backpack instead. He’d probably have to sacrifice the camera he’d left in Gracie’s stupid little frog car, and he’d definitely already sacrificed all the equipment he’d bought for his photography business, but that was small potatoes. He was starting fresh. The future would be bright as soon as he’d taken care of these problems.

  The car coughed to life and he nosed it back onto the road. It was a tedious trip back into the city and he hoped the tunnel would open again soon because otherwise he was going to go nuts with another trip dodging boulders to get Rose later.

  Still, he would do what had to be done. He had a plan. Most of one. It was still undecided what had to be done about Moana, Zoe’s police friend.

  But he’d figure it out. He was resourceful like that.

  Right now though, it was time to see how well sweet Sahara’s mother was holding up.

  48

  Moana stared at the photos just sent through to her phone, feeling the familiar sickening in her gut that she did at all the sad little pictures she’d seen of abused children.

  These ones were just like so many of the others. The girl stared out at her with dead eyes long past asking for anything.

  ‘You all right, Mum? You’ve gone white.’ Ari stared up at her from the table, a piece of toast half way to his mouth.

  She shook her head. ‘Just work,’ she said. Blowing a breath out between pursed lips, Moana reached for laptop, lifting the screen and switching it on. Only minutes later she was looking at the photographs Claire had sent her from Zoe’s mobile, in full-screen mode and colour.

  There was something strange about the two with the fair-haired girl in them. It took a minute of frowning over them before she recognised that Zoe had probably photographed a couple of old Polaroids with her phone. She tapped a front tooth with a fingernail, knowing she was scowling over the pictures, the grooves between her eyes deepening by the millisecond.

  ‘More kids?’ Ari asked, aware of what she did for a living. ‘You’ve got that particular look on your face.’

  ‘I have a particular look?’

  ‘Yeah. It’s kinda one that wishes you had jurisdiction over castration.’

  Moana gaped at her son for a moment, then laughed as he shrugged. ‘That would be a fine day,’ she said. ‘A fine day indeed.’

  ‘I thought you would be pulled into the rescue efforts today,’ Ari said.

  ‘Nope. Something else has dropped on my lap, I'm afraid. And it can’t be ignored.’ She’d already made the calls that would clear her day, allow her to investigate Jeanette Woolsley’s story. And Claire had been more than eager to talk to her too, had been about to call when she got in first.

  Hence the photos she went back to staring at. Claire had recognised the girl in the two Polaroids.

  ‘Take a look inside Zoe’s house. Specifically Danny Fry’s study,’ Claire had said. ‘In fact, I want to go with you.’

  She’d elaborated, and it hadn’t taken any thought at all for Moana to decide that she would do exactly as the other woman suggested and go to Zoe’s house and examine the picture Claire said was on the wall. A picture of Danny and his little sister.

  The girl she was staring at.

  A glance at the bottom of the screen at the time there. It had been perhaps half an hour since she’d spoken to Claire. A quick calculation and she decided that it was time to shower and dress if she was going to meet Claire at the yacht club.

  ‘I’ll get a ride on one of the boats here,’ Claire had said. ‘It’ll be much faster than navigating the road. You can pick me up and we can do this, then I’ll take Mum’s car back over the Pass.’

  Moana had just blinked at the wall, listening to her speak. Unsure quite why she was inviting a civilian into her investigation, she simply went with her gut feeling on it. Claire had pieces of the puzzle.

  She was also persuasive. Moana agreed to meet her at the yacht club, so they could travel together to talk to Jeanette.

  And to see that picture on Danny’s wall.

  Snapping the laptop shut, Moana heaved a sigh and got to her feet. It was going to be a long day. But she was pretty sure by the end of it she was going to be bringing Zoe’s husband into the station. She hadn’t heard all of Claire’s story yet, but knew it was important. One that couldn’t wait a day to be told. Not now that she’d discovered what Jeanette had to say. Her stomach turned queasy at the thought of it and she pressed a hand to the soft flesh there.

  ‘I gotta get ready for work,’ she said, looking across the table at her son smearing more jam on more toast. The kid had an appetite. ‘What are you going to be doing today?’

  ‘School’s cancelled,’ Ari said. ‘Dad’s coming over later, think he just wants to check on us.’

  Moana nodded. ‘I won’t be here but tell him I'm fine and he’s to keep you in line.’

  She got a groan in reply. ‘I suppose the party will be cancelled?’ Ari said.

  It was the last thing on her mind. The engagement party for her ex-husband. ‘Damn. I’d forgotten all about it,’ she said. ‘We’ll have to talk about it later. Right now, I've got a boat to meet.’

  Ari raised his eyebrows. ‘What? A boat?’

  ‘Yeah. The woman I'm meeting is coming around from Lyttelton by boat.’

  ‘That’s cool. Kinda weird, maybe but cool. Who is she?’

  She’s Zoe Fry’s best friend.’

  Ari’s face fell. He’d liked Zoe a lot. ‘Where’s Rose?’ he asked.

  ‘She’s staying with her grandparents. It’s their daughter Claire Wilde I'm seeing today. She’s going to be helping me with something.’

  Ari’s eyes widened. ‘Claire Wilde the sailor? Guess that explains the boat.’

  ‘That’s her name,’ Moana said. ‘How do you know who she is?’

  ‘Ah Mum, because she’s famous? She did that really tough solo race around the world – they’re not even allowed to touch land for like three months or something and someone usually dies. Someone almost did when she was racing, except she turned back during this really big storm and picked him up. Risked her own boat breaking up and everything. I can’t believe you don’t know who she is. She was just on the News the other night.’

  ‘Huh,’ Moana said. ‘I never put it together. I mean, I knew she sailed and all, but it never occurred to me…and Zoe never mentioned fame,’ Moana said, a little bit impressed despite herself. If Ari was all goggle-eyed over the woman, she really must be something.

  And he was right. It certainly explained the boat.

  ‘Well shit,’ she said. ‘Let’s hope that she can help today too, then.’

  49

  Frank examined the photographs on the phone before handing it back to Claire, his face red with distressed fury. ‘You’re saying Danny took those? When? They look ten years old at least.’

  ‘I think they probably are,’ Claire answered. ‘And yes, it seems very likely Danny took them.’ She was whispering, couldn’t help doing so even though it was probably impossible for Rose to hear her over the singing donkey on the television screen. True to her word, Claire had made the little girl a nest on the couch while Gracie had gone looking for Frank. Wincing to herself and reciting the fact that it was special circumstances, Claire had patted the sofa cushions so that Pilot curled up beside the little girl. The last time she’d looked, the girl was singing along with the movie and the dog was licking the plate clean of crumbs.

  ‘The girl is Danny’s sister. There’s a photograph of her and Danny on the wall of his study. This is definitely her.’

  ‘It’s appalling,’ Frank said, putting the phone down on the kitchen counter and poking a thick f
inger at it as though the photograph’s poison would seep through the screen. ‘We have to call the police.’

  Claire nodded and noticed her mother did the same. They were all in agreement. ‘I’ve already been talking to one of Zoe’s friends. She’s a police woman who works child abuse cases, and apparently Zoe called her yesterday too.’

  ‘Did she say why?’

  ‘No. Zoe just left a message saying she was coming into the station to see her and that it was really important.’ Claire pointed at the phone. ‘I think this was the reason. I think it was why Zoe was so desperate to get Rose away from Danny.’

  ‘That man is never coming near her again,’ Gracie said, shaking her head so that her hair bounced up and down on her shoulders. ‘Never. I won’t allow it.’ Claire saw her swallow. ‘Not unless you can prove emphatically to me that this picture does not mean what it looks like it means.’

  Claire sighed. ‘I suspect it means exactly what it looks like,’ she said. ‘Danny was acting very strangely yesterday when I saw him, and now I think we know why. We need to prove he’s a danger to Rose. I don’t want him anywhere near her either.’

  Gracie’s eyes were wide and appalled. ‘What if he’s already…you know?’

  ‘She needs to see a doctor,’ Frank said. ‘And Claire, you need to get back in touch with this police woman and arrange to meet her now. This morning. I’ll call Jim and get him to take you back to the city in the boat. He won’t mind if I ask him. You have to get this sorted out.’

  ‘What about Rose?’ Claire asked, agreeing with everything her father had said and feeling the need for action galvanise her muscles. She could be back in the city in an hour.

  ‘Rose will stay here with us.’ Frank put an arm around his wife, tucking her into his side. ‘We won’t let anything happen to her. And that dog has developed a real affection for her – I'm doubting anything could get past that set of jaws. She’ll be perfectly safe.’

  ‘Do we even know where Danny is?’