No One Can Hear You

by Nikki Crutchley

  *

  Zoe got back from the park and, putting her CV on hold, got her laptop out. She was beginning to have her doubts about Max Vincent. He didn’t seem overly concerned about the missing women and his enquiries, if there even were any, seemed pretty pathetic.

  She typed Tania Myer Crawton into Google. Nothing came up. She typed in Tania Myer New Zealand. An article from the Waikato Times was the first entry. She clicked through and found an article on the Waikato Home for Girls. As far as she could tell it was a halfway house for troubled young women. It had joined together with a primary school and raised money for cancer awareness. There was a photo of three young women and five primary-aged kids in a kitchen surrounded by pink-iced cupcakes. The caption read: ‘Children from St Joseph’s and young women from the Waikato Home for Girls, from left: Tania Myer …’

  The girl looked to be no more than eighteen or nineteen. She had bobbed brown hair that was so greasy it looked plastered to her head. She smiled but her eyes betrayed her. The article was dated June 2015, over a year ago. She had obviously got sick of the place and left and found a temporary home with Gus in Crawton.

  Zoe typed in Megan Harper and New Zealand, and when nothing came up tried Crawton. Again, no luck. Lillian had to have found out more. Megan’s and Tania’s disappearances were obviously bothering her. Why else keep notebooks on them? Maybe Max Vincent had been too quick to judge Megan. Sure, she could have run off, but what if they were really missing? She knew if she was going to go back to Vincent she needed something more solid or he’d think she was as crazy as Lillian.

  She retrieved Lillian’s notebook from the bedside table and took it into the lounge. She read the bits she could decipher. It sounded as though Lillian had met Tania after a function out at the lake at the start of the year and had helped her out with clothes and a bit of money. And then nothing until later when she noted down her concern that Tania was missing.

  Zoe threw the notebook aside in frustration. She needed more, and she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to get it. She walked over to Lillian’s desk. It only had one small drawer. She opened it up. It was empty apart from a small silver key. She picked up the key and turned to the small wooden filing cabinet in the corner. Crouching down, she soon realised it had no place to lock. She opened the filing cabinet. There wasn’t much inside: insurance papers for the house and car, medical insurance, warranties on whatever appliances she’d bought over the last decade. She almost flicked past the thin sheaf of papers before spying Richard Bailey’s name in the bottom right-hand corner. She pulled them out, her heart plummeting. It was a sale agreement between Lillian Haywood and Richard Bailey. It was still awaiting Richard Bailey’s signature. Lillian’s signature on the left was very shaky, as if she had been continuously knocked while writing. It looked more like the hand of a ninety-year-old and Zoe wondered if Lillian had actually wanted to sign, or if she’d been forced to. After what Pam had told her, Zoe was certain Lillian didn’t want to sell to Bailey. She felt the need to get rid of the papers, but instead secreted them away in her bedside table.

  Zoe took the small silver key and turned it over in her hands, thinking. Balancing her laptop on her knees she updated her CV, found Barbara Keegan’s email and pressed Send.

  Chapter 19

  Zoe arrived at the admin building of Crawton High School the next morning just as the bell rang. There were a few loiterers around, dragging their feet on a Friday morning. The plan was to find Barbara Keegan and ask if Lillian had any personal items left in her office. If she was leaving notes around the house, maybe she’d left some at her office.

  Barbara Keegan, in her mid-fifties and sporting a pale-pink tailored pant suit, welcomed her warmly and offered her a chair. Zoe thought how different this woman was, her open face, smiling eyes and brown hair rapidly being overtaken by grey, compared to Harold Paynter.

  ‘I’m so glad you’ve popped in. I got your CV yesterday and I think we’d be very lucky to have you. I don’t have anything right now, but I’m happy to list you as one of our relievers if that’s OK?’

  ‘That sounds perfect.’

  ‘Was there anything else I can do for you?’

  ‘I wanted to have a chat about Lillian.’

  Barbara nodded, her smile sliding off her face. ‘She will most definitely be missed.’

  ‘I understand she had a few health issues,’ Zoe said, not wanting to put words in her mouth.

  Barbara paused, no doubt choosing her words. ‘We had noticed, this year mostly, the last six months or so, that Lillian had begun to … become more distant. She would often forget her surroundings or what she was supposed to be doing.’

  ‘She had recently been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.’

  Barbara nodded. She didn’t seem surprised. ‘I thought it may have been something like that.’ She gazed thoughtfully at Zoe. ‘I hope you haven’t heard too much gossip around Lillian. We valued her as part of our teaching team. It is true that I’d suggested she may want to take on fewer hours. Apart from the fact she was ill, she was an old woman … I don’t really know what I’m trying to say. I guess I just want you to know she meant a lot to us and we definitely weren’t trying to get rid of her.’

  Zoe hadn’t known Barbara Keegan for long but believed everything she said. ‘I was wondering if I could pop into Lillian’s office? See if she left anything personal behind?’ She realised that Barbara probably meant she wanted photos or a favourite mug but didn’t feel the need to tell her otherwise.

  Barbara led her down a corridor lined with trophy cases and plaques marking the sporting and academic prowess of the more talented students at the school. Somewhere among the silverware would be a tarnished trophy bearing Zoe’s name for best female rower in 2002. Their footsteps echoed as they passed closed doors whose glass panes revealed classrooms of students with eyes glued to computer screens. ‘I guess they didn’t have all this when you were here,’ Barbara said.

  ‘Definitely not,’ Zoe said, remembering the slightly run-down Crawton High of her youth.

  ‘Here we are.’ Barbara opened the door to the office. ‘Alex will be around somewhere. We’re so lucky to have him take over at such short notice.’ She halted. ‘Sorry. That must have sounded callous.’

  ‘Don’t worry about, it’s fine,’ Zoe said, hardly noticing the faux pas.

  ‘Now I know she had a school laptop but that’s been returned already. They’re in demand and I think it’s already being used by another teacher.’

  Zoe wondered what Lillian could have had on it. Answering her unspoken question, Barbara said, ‘As far as I know there wasn’t anything of importance on it — and definitely nothing personal. Just files on the students, which have been transferred over to Alex, and a paper she was working on for a counselling magazine. Alex has the document and is considering finishing it off for her. I think he felt it would be a nice gesture. Right, I’ll leave you to it. If Alex doesn’t return just pull the door shut when you’re done.’

  Zoe closed the door after Barbara left, her heels clicking down the linoleum corridor. The sparse office looked the same as it did when she was at high school. The moss-green carpet, more reminiscent of a mini-putt course than a floor covering, was still in place. The cheap desk with a chipped veneer top, she was positive it was the same one; two cushioned chairs in the corner with a coffee table planted in between, a box of tissues on the top. Zoe imagined the teen angst that this room had seen — both real and imagined, conjured up from confused young minds. The room didn’t have a single personal touch.

  Alex’s briefcase rested against the swivel chair; an empty coffee cup was on the desk. Zoe was uncomfortably aware that this was now Alex’s office and she was snooping. The desk drawers were full of stationery, pens and Post-it notes. She took the key she’d found at Lillian’s and inserted it into the steel filing cabinet at the back of the room. She tried to turn the key, but nothin
g happened. She took it out and tried again, wiggling it, coaxing it to unlock. She returned the key to her pocket and, hand on the door handle, almost collided with Alex as he stepped into the room.

  ‘Zo,’ he said. ‘You scared the shit out of me.’

  ‘Likewise,’ she said, laughing. But her heart rate had increased. She had to keep telling herself she wasn’t doing anything wrong.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Sorry.’ She felt as though she’d been caught red-handed. ‘I thought I’d just pop in and see if you needed me to get rid of any personal stuff Lillian had left behind.’ Alex didn’t need to know about her foolish mission.

  ‘I don’t think so. You know Lillian, clean and minimalist to a fault.’

  Zoe nodded. ‘OK. Better get back to it. Catch up later for a drink?’

  ‘For sure. Although with your return my poor liver’s suffering.’

  ‘You’ll be right,’ she gently punched his shoulder on the way out the door. ‘You just need a little bit of practise.’

  *

  Zoe left the high school and drove across town. At the southern end of the main street, before it gave way to more housing and eventually farmland, was the Crawton Community Centre. A small brick building that for the last twenty years had been helping the less fortunate people of Crawton with anything from finding second-hand school uniforms for their kids to helping them write their CVs, with any other manner of budgeting and legal advice thrown in.

  The reception area had clearly been the lounge room in the building’s previous life. A boarded-up fireplace took up half one wall; on the other side was a line of mismatched chairs and a coffee table covered with dog-eared magazines, colouring books and crayons. The woman sitting at the desk peered over her glasses at Zoe. ‘Hello, can I help you?’

  ‘Hi, I’m Zoe Haywood.’

  The woman looked at her blankly.

  ‘Lillian’s —’ She hesitated, the word sticking in her throat from disuse. ‘Daughter.’

  ‘Of course.’ The woman took her glasses off and let them hang on a chain around her neck. ‘I don’t know where my head is today. I was at the funeral and at Pam Buchanan’s afterwards. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to talk to you.’

  Zoe tried to recall her face at Pam’s but couldn’t. The gathering had been mostly made up of women identical to her: short grey hair, sensible skirts, cardigans, glasses.

  ‘I am so sorry about your mother. A truly wonderful woman. My name’s Harriet. What can I do for you?’

  ‘I was just wondering if Lillian left any personal items behind in her office? Maybe I could collect them?’

  ‘Of course. Come on through.’

  She led Zoe past two closed doors and opened the last one on the right. ‘It’s pretty sparse in here,’ Harriet said. ‘But take a look around if you’d like.’ The walls were painted cream but sported some speckled mould patches towards the ceiling. Yellowing Sellotape and old bits of Blu-Tack clung on to other parts, while grubby smudges, at child height, decorated the lower parts. Zoe looked at the immaculately kept desk — Lillian’s domain — and wondered how she was going to get into the filing cabinet with Harriet watching.

  Just then the shrill ring of the telephone sounded from the front of the house and Harriet excused herself. As soon as she left the room Zoe ripped the key out of her pocket, her rush sending it flying onto the grey carpet. She retrieved it and went to the filing cabinet. Turning the key in the lock she heard a click and slid open the drawer, wincing as the runners screeched across the metal. The first drawer was packed with alphabetical files. Hell, I don’t even know what I’m looking for.

  She looked under ‘H’ for Harper, Megan’s surname. She found a thin file and flicked through it. There was a CV and some copy of a form Megan had filled out for Work and Income. That was it. She opened the second drawer and looked for Tania Myer. Her file was almost identical to Megan’s. Sighing, she pulled out the last drawer which was empty apart from a few empty cardboard files. She flicked through them and, lying in the bottom of the last one, found a USB stick. Grabbing it, heart drumming through her chest, she pushed the drawer closed, leaving the key where it was. Zoe figured someone would’ve been looking for it. She pocketed the USB stick, took a deep breath and walked back down to the reception area. Harriet was still on the phone, but covered the mouthpiece and asked, ‘Find anything?’

  ‘No, not really, but that’s OK. Thanks, anyway.’ Zoe waved and walked back to the car, her hand resting on her pocket.

  *

  Back at Lillian’s Zoe grabbed her laptop and inserted the USB. She clicked on the only file that appeared on the screen, a Word document labelled ‘Missing’, and began to read.

  April – Tania hasn’t turned up to work for a couple of days. Megan asked Garth about it and he says she quit.

  June – Megan found a leather bracelet of Tania’s under the couch in Garth’s office. When she asked him what it was doing there, Garth insinuated they’d had sex and she must’ve dropped it.

  September 17 – Megan said she was in Garth’s office and he and Tai were saying it was time for another one. They mentioned Auckland. She was drunk at the time and doesn’t remember much else. I’ve told her she needs to be more careful. She said they would’ve done something by now if they were going to do it.

  October 12 – Megan overheard Garth and Tai talking about her. They said she’d be next. I’ve told her to quit, to leave Crawton. She’s not safe. She said she wasn’t going to be bullied into leaving. She wants to know what’s happening and thinks she can get more out of them if she sticks around. I think Garth has a hold over her. She doesn’t know I know she does drugs. Garth must supply them, or maybe Tai. It’s disappointing she doesn’t trust me enough to let me help her – although maybe she doesn’t want help. I’ve told her we should go and see Max Vincent, but she said there’s no point and that he’s often in the Crawton Tavern having a drink with Garth in his office. He knows all about the drugs that go through the place. She thinks maybe Max knows something.

  I’ve told Megan if she’s not going to quit I’ll drop her off and pick her up from work each night. I’m only an old woman but it’s better than nothing.

  This is not going to end well.

  I don’t know who’s going to find this or if it will be found. But I couldn’t let it get into the wrong hands. I guess whoever is reading this now, maybe I’m not around anymore. Chances are the Alzheimer’s got me — or they did.

  Zoe let out the breath she’d been holding. Her mind swam with all the new facts. Max Vincent was involved. Tania and Megan had been abducted and possibly taken to Auckland. And then, the bombshell: Lillian might not have killed herself. Did she know too much and they got rid of her? What the hell was she supposed to do now? There wasn’t a chance she would go back to Max Vincent. Alex. She’d talk to Alex. He would help.

  Chapter 20

  Zoe was still in bed the next morning when there was a knock at the door. She briefly considered leaving it and then heard Alex’s voice. Stumbling to the door she opened it. ‘Jeez, Alex, it’s the bloody weekend,’ she said as he bounded in the front door.

  ‘Yep, been for a run around the lake and thought I’d come and see you. Here.’ He passed her takeaway coffee cups and took out two blueberry muffins from a brown paper bag. ‘You seemed a bit distracted when I saw you at school yesterday.’

  They sat on the couch, coffees in hand. Zoe pulled her muffin apart, taking bites. ‘Sorry, I was preoccupied.’

  ‘Need to talk?’ He sipped his coffee and pushed his fringe out of his face at the same time.

  ‘Definitely.’ She knew what she’d found was serious, but still felt Lillian’s illness could have skewed what she’d been witnessing, or thought she’d been witnessing. Plus she didn’t even know this Megan woman. Only that Max Vincent was sure she’d done a runner over bad debt
s.

  ‘I’ve found a notebook of Lillian’s. In it she seems convinced that a couple of girls in Crawton have gone missing, abducted, and maybe some guys from the Crawton Tavern are responsible. She says she went to see Max Vincent about it all. I went to see him on Wednesday and he didn’t have too much to say. Just that the two women weren’t really to be relied on and that they most likely have just left Crawton and moved on. He showed me CCTV footage of Lillian. It wasn’t good. The way she reacted.’ Zoe shook her head. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Zo, I’m sorry.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It just kind of looks like—’

  ‘Like Lillian was losing it?’

  His eyes full of sympathy, Alex reached over and laid a hand on her knee. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘God, I think you’re right. I feel like an idiot.’

  ‘Who are the women? I might know them.’

  ‘Megan Harper and Tania Myer?’

  ‘Don’t know either.’ He chewed on a piece of muffin. ‘No, hang on, Megan Harper. I think she was new to town. She turned up at the community centre wanting help with finding a job and somewhere to stay. Lillian helped her out with both. I seem to remember she got her a job at the tavern. Not ideal, bit of a shithole. But a job’s a job.’

  ‘Crawton Tavern,’ Zoe said.

  ‘Remember we went there a couple of times?’ Alex smiled at the memory. ‘We were so shocked we managed to get in and buy drinks. Do you remember?’

  Zoe laughed at the memory. ‘God, their alcohol was lethal. I’m pretty sure it was cooked up out the back. Crawton moonshine.’

  ‘And we got so wasted we had to leave Mum’s car there and walk home.’

  ‘Oh God, I forgot about that. You stayed here, didn’t you? I think Lillian was away somewhere.’

  ‘And then we got up early the next morning and walked back to get the car and the bloody tyres had been slashed,’ Alex completed the story. ‘Mum was so pissed off.’