Caleb put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “Just because people have money and influence, doesn’t make them infallible. They are human too and have to live by the law. Don’t be scared of them.”
“Easy for you to say, you’re one of them!”
“That’s exactly what I mean. We’re normal people. I can speak from experience.”
“I can hardly believe what has happened in the past few weeks. If I had never received that first note, then I would have been none the wiser.” She put her empty mug on the coffee table.
“Would you have wanted that though?”
“No. Sometimes you have to do difficult things in life if it’s for the greater good. Plus, we wouldn’t have got closer either, if I hadn’t got the note.” She snuggled into his side.
“That’s true.” He took his hand and found the side of her head. He gently turned it to his and kissed her. It was a soft, tender kiss that soon turned into hot kisses. He stood up and looked down on her. Her stomach was fluttering, as much as she tried to control it.
He bent down and put one hand around her back and the other underneath her knees. He lifted her up and carried her into the bedroom. They stayed there all afternoon, putting the fire and the investigation out of their minds. If nothing else, Caleb was definitely a good distraction, but the truth was, that he made Jasmine very happy. He was everything she had always wanted in a partner and to actually have him there with her, kissing her, touching her, it was like a dream.
* * *
It was Sunday morning before they left the bedroom. Even then it was only so that Jasmine could make Caleb breakfast in bed. She made toast with strawberry jam, the only supplies she had in the refrigerator. They ate in peaceful silence.
“I need to get up. I’ve got to call Becky. What are your plans for the day?” She tidied up the breakfast plates and made the bed after they both arose. Caleb started putting his clothes on from the night before.
“I don’t have any. Do you need me to come with you?” He started on his shoes.
“No, I think I’ll get a better reaction if I go alone. I don’t want her to freak out.”
“Well, I’ll let you get to it then. I’ll give you a call later, unless you want to come by my place afterwards?”
“I’ll see how I go with time.” She walked him to the front door where he enveloped her in his arms for a warm hug.
“Oh, wait. Damn it. I almost forgot. My parents are having a dinner party tonight. Do you want to come with me? I’m sure it will be as boring as watching grass grow, so I need a distraction.”
“Meeting your parents? You’re sure?” she asked with doubt in her voice.
“They’ll love you. What’s not to love? It’s smart-casual dress. I’ll pick you up at six. Okay?” He kissed her quickly in a bid to convince her to go.
“Okay. See you at six.” She closed the door on him and took a shower. It was 11:15am. Late enough on a Sunday morning to call someone and not be considered rude. She found the piece of paper with the telephone number on it and dialled. The phone rang for what seemed like an eternity before it was finally answered.
“Hello?”
“Becky, hi. It’s Jasmine Parker. We had coffee a few days ago?” She tried to sound friendly and keep her tone of voice light.
“Jasmine, yeah, I remember. What’s up?” Her voice was a little sleepy.
“You said we should catch up more often. I was wondering if you’d like to meet up today, have a talk - for old times sake.” There was a pause on the line.
“I don’t know. I’m pretty busy – what did you want to talk about?”
“The old days, you know. I wouldn’t take up much of your time – I promise. Could we meet at say, the park in Anderson Street in about an hour? I can bring coffee.” She held her breath.
“I’m busy. It will have to be during the week.” She sounded distracted. Jasmine imagined her on the other end of the line, cradling the phone on her shoulder, filing her nails.
“Okay, how about tomorrow?”
“Busy then too.”
“The day after?”
“Hmm. I can’t do it that day either.”
Jasmine was getting frustrated. “How about Wednesday then?”
“Okay. Wednesday should be fine. I can pencil you in for 10:00am. I’ll see you then. Remember the coffee – skim milk and no sugar.” The phone beeped as she hung up without as much as a goodbye. ‘Typical Becky’, Jasmine thought to herself, shaking her head.
* * *
Jasmine was walking down the long corridor of the high school. Her arms were full of books she had just picked up from the library. The teachers were piling on the homework. She was certain the only reason they did that was because they had forgotten what it was like to be young and to have a social life. It was true, her social life wasn’t exactly something to write home about, but at least she got out now and then. Although, after seeing her reading list for the semester, she wondered if she’d be seeing any daylight at all.
She negotiated her way around people, the books getting heavier by the second. She turned the last corner before reaching the corridor where her locker was located. She tripped over something. She couldn’t stop herself from falling. The books fled her arms and landed on the hard concrete floor with her. Laughter broke out around her.
She looked up to see a group of students pointing at her, in raptures of delight. She turned back to see what she had stumbled over. There was nothing on the floor. She cast her eyes on the shoes standing in the exact spot where she had tripped. She knew those black patent leather shoes; she didn’t need to cast her eyes upwards. They belonged to Becky Storm, without a doubt.
Her knee was throbbing; it had taken the brunt of the fall. She slowly stood up, gathering her books as she did. She wasn’t going to show them the satisfaction of crying. Instead, she would gather what was left of her dignity and walk away – just as Gran had told her to do. One-by-one, she picked up the books. There was no offer of assistance from any of the dozen or so students standing around watching her.
When she had gathered the last of the books, she started walking again. A boy was standing right in her path and refused to move. She stared him right in the eyes. He was Becky’s boyfriend, or so she’d heard on the grapevine. She wasn’t privy to any of the gossip first hand. He stared back, holding his eyes level.
“Move!” Jasmine grunted. She was well and truly over the whole incident. Besides being embarrassed, she really didn’t have the time to play their games. Some people had to get to after-school jobs. She doubted whether they would understand the concept of even having a job. They were something that only the children of the town commoners had.
“Why should I?” came the snide reply.
“Because I said so.” Jasmine summoned her entire energy not to avert her eyes from his.
He stood in his position, not moving a muscle.
“Aww Mikey, maybe you should move and let the little orphan through. After all, hasn’t she suffered enough?” Jasmine didn’t have to turn around to recognise Becky’s voice coming from behind her.
She cringed with the thought. Within moments, Becky was at Michael Reiner’s side. She linked her arm through his, clearly declaring her ownership of him. The arrogant smile on her face made Jasmine’s blood boil.
“Move!” Jasmine repeated. She tried to step around him, but he sidestepped to block her path again. Had her arms been free and not full of books, she would have physically pushed him out of the way with as much force as possible.
“Little orphan Jazzy, would you like to get past us?” Becky asked with sarcasm dripping from her voice. “You only have to ask.”
Jasmine gritted her teeth and using the fakest nice voice she could, replied, “Becky, may I please go around you?”
“Now was that so hard?” Becky pulled Michael aside and they watched as Jasmine slunk by. She felt about two inches tall and knew her face was red from embarrassment. Or maybe it was ang
er, she couldn’t be sure. She vowed to herself that one day she would have her revenge on Becky. If it wasn’t her taking out the revenge, then it would surely be karma that would get her.
* * *
Jasmine shook her head, trying to rid herself of the bad memory. She finished getting dressed and looked around the apartment, wondering what exactly to do next. She hadn’t counted on Becky having other plans. Although, she knew her better than to assume she would be at home twiddling her thumbs. She considered calling Caleb and spending the day with him, but then nothing would get done.
She couldn’t make up her mind about what exactly she should do, so she decided to clean the apartment. At least that way she could feel like she was accomplishing something. She started tidying up and then moved on to the sweeping and dusting. When she was satisfied that everything was sparkling, she made herself a cup of tea and sat down admiring her work.
The computer was sitting on the desk in the corner. She looked at it and remembered all the computer files she had copied from Avalon Industries. She went to it and pressed the on button. It came alive and requested her password. She typed it in and waited whilst it loaded up.
Jasmine took a seat in front of it and started wading through the files again, believing there must be something there she had previously overlooked. She hadn’t heard anything from Chase in a few days and wondered how she was getting on with opening the encrypted files. She thought of calling her to check in, but didn’t want to appear pushy. Chase was, after all, doing something illegal for her as a favour. Something about biting the hand that feeds you sprung to mind.
She opened every file again and looked through each one more thoroughly. If nothing else, Avalon laboratories kept tidy records. Their budgets were a work of art to Jasmine’s accountant mind. They outlined every expense they could possibly incur and highlighted areas that could be improved. She found them interesting, if not terribly incriminating.
After three hours of wading again, she gave up. Everything was ordinary; there was nothing unusual in any of the files. She turned the computer off and pushed her chair back from the desk in frustration.
Deciding on eating lunch, she made herself a sandwich and sat down in front of her TV. She put her feet up on the lounge suite and ate in silence. A documentary on ancient Egypt making the only noise in the apartment.
She must have fallen asleep, as the next thing she remembered was waking up and hearing the telephone. She looked at the clock on the wall, it was late afternoon. She lazily reached over and picked up the telephone receiver.
“Hello?”
“I have warned you twice now. Three strikes and you’re out.” The phone went dead on the other end, leaving only the beeping of the hung up call. Jasmine was fully awake now. Hanging up the phone, she walked around the apartment and closed all the curtains and blinds, ensuring each window was secured at the same time.
She was in shock from the call. The voice had been so menacing and the abruptness had made her shake.
Even though it was the last thing she felt like, she quickly found some smart-casual clothes and changed into a light pink boucle short skirt and matching jacket with a white blouse. She called Caleb and asked him to come around early, as quickly as possible, if he didn’t mind.
She stood next to the front door and waited the fifteen minutes until he arrived. She only opened the door after she confirmed it was him through the spy hole.
“Am I glad to see you – let’s get out of here.” She pushed him backwards, locked her front door and started walking swiftly down the stairs. She didn’t stop until she was safely in his car.
“What’s going on?” He started the car and backed out into the street.
“I had another phone call. They said ‘three strikes and you’re out’.” She tried to keep the panic out of her voice.
“That’s it? That’s all they said?”
“Yep. I have to stop these guys before they stop me.”
“We’ll get them, don’t worry. You look amazing by the way.”
They exchanged a smile and drove the rest of the way in silence.
Chapter 14
Caleb’s parents lived in Cliffton Heights, a suburb on the outskirts of Cliffton that was reserved for the filthy rich. Jasmine looked at the houses as they approached. Each one was at least two storeys high and sprawled out over two or three ordinary sized house blocks. The lawns were perfect, the letterboxes all pristine white, and the security gates to the communities were high.
They pulled into the driveway of a brick and tile house. It had a Tuscan look to it with wrought iron gates and terracotta paving. Flowing from the upstairs balconies were baskets of dark green plants. The leaves cascading over the edges like a waterfall. Jasmine thought the house was beautiful and could imagine it featuring in ‘Better Homes and Gardens’ magazine. There wasn’t even a blade of grass out of place. It didn’t look like people actually lived there.
Caleb walked around the car and opened the door for her. She wasn’t expecting it. She had been so pre-occupied with taking in the house, that she had forgotten he was waiting. He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. They walked up the three steps and knocked on the heavy wooden front door. An older man – dressed in a black suit with tails – answered. He wore white gloves and looked like he’d stepped right out of a movie.
“Good evening. Are you here for dinner?” Jasmine was expecting him to speak with a thick English accent. Instead, the illusion was shattered as he spoke with a very Aussie tongue.
“Caleb Marshall reporting for dinner, sir.”
“Master Marshall and guest, please follow me.” He stepped back from the door and let them pass. They were led through a wide entry passage that had ceilings that extended up the two storeys and into a living room at the back of the house. The room was almost as wide as the house and was fully enclosed in glass on the outside wall. There were plush lounges and armchairs spread throughout the room, little coffee tables scattered between them. The lighting had been dimmed and flickering candles were lined up on every available surface.
Jasmine spotted Caleb’s parents before he could point them out. Mr Marshall was an exact mirror of his son, except with grey hair and a more worn appearance. He was an attractive older man and very much at ease in his expensive surroundings. Jasmine assumed it was Mrs Marshall at his side. They were talking to another couple, dressed to the nines.
“I thought you said it was smart-casual,” Jasmine whispered in Caleb’s ear.
“That’s what I was told. Don’t worry; you are more beautiful than anyone else here.” He squeezed her hand again. They were offered a flute of champagne, but refused it. Caleb tried to catch his parents’ attention. He waved at them as they were finishing with the couple.
They walked over, smiling. Mrs Marshall gave Caleb a hug. She was a tall woman and hid her age well. She was ten years older than her husband and was determined to never let her looks betray that fact. She wore her blonde hair in a tight French roll, not a strand was out of place. It complemented her low-cut black evening dress.
“And who’s your friend? You didn’t tell me you were seeing anyone.” His mother looked Jasmine up and down, studying her.
“Mum, Dad, I would like you to meet my girlfriend Jasmine Parker. Jaz, these are my parents – Margaret and Keith Marshall.” They shook hands and nodded politely and then silence for a few awkward moments.
“It’s nice to meet you. You’ve got a lovely home here.” Jasmine tried to think of some appropriate small talk.
“Thank you. Your name was Jasmine Parker, correct?” Keith was still staring at her as she nodded. “Well, we’d better get back to our guests. It was a pleasure to meet you, Jasmine. I hope you have a nice evening. Caleb, thank you for coming. We’ll talk some more later.” They left as quickly as they had arrived.
“Don’t take them too seriously. Tonight is like a stage play for them, they have to keep up appearances,” Caleb said after they had left and found some fing
er food. They walked out on to the patio that was lit only by candles.
“They seemed okay. You look so much like your father. Do you know any of the people here?” She looked at the rest of the guests. They were all in pairs, drinking and laughing politely. They were the high society type that put on their mask before they left the house, never truly revealing who they were underneath. It was always about the reputation, the family name, never about what they really thought.
“I know some of them. That’s Mr and Mrs Battle, they are Logan’s parents. Over there are Mr and Mrs Blancher, they are business associates of my dad’s and they are talking to Mr and Mrs Lancet, he’s the head surgeon at the Cliffton Private Hospital.” He scanned the room with his eyes. “There are the Morgans, they are the patrons of the university. I’m not sure who they’re with.”
A teenage girl worked her way through the couples and stepped out onto the patio. She ran at Caleb and threw her arms around him.
“Caleb! Thank God you’re here to save me from this. I thought I was going to be the only sane one.”
“Yeah, there’s got to be three sane people here now. This is my girlfriend Jasmine.”
The girl let him go and extended her hand for Jasmine to shake. “I’m Ella. It’s nice to meet you, Jasmine. I’m Caleb’s sister.”
“Nice to meet you too.” Jasmine surveyed her. She guessed she was probably about fifteen years old, into the latest trend of wearing nothing but black from head-to-foot, and took after her mother in the looks department. She had blonde hair and was taller than Jasmine. She decided that overall she was a very attractive girl.
“Ella lives here with Mum and Dad, so she gets the privilege of attending these things all the time,” Caleb teased.
“Hey, as soon as I’ve finished school I’m outta here. You can count on that! How long have you guys been together? I didn’t think anyone would feel sorry enough for my brother to actually go out with him.” A waiter came around and offered them each a drink. They accepted and took one each off the tray.
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