by Sarah Barrie
‘Mia, this is not some random personal invasion of privacy. I may need to talk to them.’
‘Miguel stayed here. He wouldn’t have touched it, though. Dex has friends from time to time when I’m not around. They’re supposed to stay out but who knows?’ She began cleaning again, her back to him.
‘And?’
When she ignored him and headed up the stairs, he pressed again.
‘Mia!’
She turned at the top of the staircase, then lifted her hands and dropped them. ‘There’s been no one here.’ She continued to her room.
No one? Was she telling the truth? He followed her. ‘I’ll file an official report about the weapon. Make sure it’s chased up.’
‘Thanks.’ She eyed the bed warily. ‘I’m going to steam mop my mattress.’
‘Are you supposed to do that?’
‘I have no idea. I am fairly certain I shouldn’t fumigate it myself, but I’m going to do that, too.’
The doorbell rang and she turned and headed downstairs again. Ben followed as far as the entrance to the bathroom, where Dex was complaining wholeheartedly to no one in particular about something that had gone on inside it.
‘Okay?’ Ben asked.
Dex was scrubbing the toilet, but his entire body was facing the other way, his face a study in disgust. ‘You haven’t seen a shovel around here anywhere, have you?’ he asked. ‘I don’t think Mia has one.’
‘You need to bury something?’
‘Me. I’m thinking I’m going to just take her bedspread straight to the coffin joint. I’ll dig myself a grave because I won’t have any money left for a funeral when I’ve replaced that expensive bedding. All in all, though, death is preferable to coming into any more contact with what’s in the toilet. I don’t know what time it blocked, but people just kept using it. And the shower—whoa. And the sink will never be the same. I think someone … I can’t even say it.’
Overcome by the smell, Ben left him to it, his attention caught by the conversation taking place at the front door.
‘I know you were there. What did Chapel have to say?’
Ben recognised Davis Walker’s voice and listened more intently.
‘Make it up,’ Mia replied. ‘That’s what you’re paid for, isn’t it?’
‘I write damn good stories and I’ll get yours, whether I get it from you or someone else. You may as well cooperate. People believe what they read.’
‘The number of people who bother to read what you write are not going to make me famous either way.’
‘Don’t underestimate me.’ Davis’s voice dropped but Ben still picked it up. ‘I’m a dangerous person to cross.’
Ben’s temper flared. This was the last thing Mia needed. He started across the room, intent on shutting Davis down, but Mia was already speaking.
‘Oh precious, I’ve been kidnapped—twice—almost burnt to death, beaten up, stabbed and held captive by a bunch of psychotic murdering butchers intent on hunting me for sport. You’re gonna have to try a little bit harder than that. Come see me once your voice cracks and you fit into your shiny shoes. Bring a weapon.’
‘I mean it—I’ll tangle you in this up to your neck. I’ll turn the public against you and make you look guilty as sin—’
Ben stepped around Mia and put one hand on Davis’s chest, bulldozing him back from the door. ‘What did you say?’
‘Um, detective … I didn’t realise you were there.’
‘I’m not really sure how you think that makes it any better.’
‘I just—I need this story. You don’t realise how much pressure I’m under!’
‘The violins are playing in my head for you, dipshit. Now get lost. Threaten her again and I’ll find a reason to lock you up.’
For a split second as he stepped back inside, Ben saw Mia leaning against the wall, eyes pressed tightly closed. Then as the door clicked, she visibly pulled herself together. He would never have guessed, witnessing her verbal sparring with Davis, just how much he’d upset her. She was so damn good at hiding her feelings. And what she’d said. She hadn’t been exaggerating. It was so much to have gone through and come out the other side. He wanted to talk to her about it, but she was already crossing the room, finding more rubbish to throw out. Her face had ‘keep out’ written all over it, so he headed downstairs and got to work.
About half an hour later, Mia appeared. ‘I didn’t realise you were still here. Shouldn’t you be working?’
He tied the top of a garbage bag together, then lifted a beer carton packed with empty stubbies and put it with the rest of the stuff he’d collected. ‘Seriously?’ he asked. ‘I’m not exactly sitting on my hands here, honey.’
She looked slightly startled by the endearment that had just kind of slipped out. ‘I meant proper work … real work … Don’t you need to be at the station?’
He liked that he’d accidentally managed to fluster her. ‘I’m searching your house. Hoping to find your weapon. Identifying items of interest and—’ he picked something up, pulled a face and dropped it on his pile of rubbish, ‘—not so much interest.’
She just stood there, a puzzled look on her face.
‘Something wrong?’
She shook her head once. ‘I appreciate it. Thank you.’ She headed back upstairs and he grinned to himself.
‘That’s worth a couple of loads of rubbish,’ he muttered.
CHAPTER
11
Mia was aching all over by the time she decided the main living area was safe to sit down in. But it still didn’t smell right, and it was getting late. Ben had put in a solid couple of hours on the house before Indy had turned up and taken him back to the station, and Dex had passed out on his bed a half-hour ago, completely exhausted. She had to hand it to him, he was doing his best to fix his mistake.
She went downstairs and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. This level was almost back to normal, though she knew with all the bags of rubbish outside, the place resembled a garbage dump. Ben had suggested she hire a trailer and take a trip to the dump or arrange a council pick-up. Maybe both. She’d figure it out tomorrow.
He’d completely surprised her by pitching in like he had, especially because there’d been no real reason for it. She could have called him if anything else had turned out to be missing, or if she’d found her gun. He’d done a great job, too. She felt a little awkward about it. Ben hadn’t seemed to. The reality was she didn’t need him being helpful, didn’t need him attacking Davis. It was a double whammy to her system that had knocked a few more foundations out from her carefully constructed barriers. And she needed them in place more than ever.
She sipped her water and stretched her tired muscles, yawning. She could easily curl up in bed, try to sleep. But the house still wasn’t up to scratch. Her mattress was damp, and she didn’t feel like driving all the way home to Hunters Ridge in the middle of the night. She didn’t feel like being alone either, so she grabbed her bag and wandered down to Bear’s. He’d be open a while yet.
The bar wasn’t too crowded and Bear saw her immediately. He came out and gave her a hug.
‘Mia, I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what to say.’
‘Dex told you?’
‘He did. I think he thought it would be better coming from him. Did you kick him out?’
‘No, of course not. He’s doing his best to clean up.’
‘He’d want to be. I’ll pay for some professional cleaners, get them to go through top to bottom.’
‘Thanks, but that’s not necessary.’ When he shot her a disbelieving look she smiled. ‘They’re already booked for tomorrow.’
‘Did your gun turn up?’
‘I haven’t heard anything so I’m guessing no.’
He went behind the bar and made her a drink. ‘You look like you need it.’
She smiled and played with the straw before taking a sip.
‘Dex said that a detective came round looking for drugs.’
‘T
hat was Ben. There was just a small amount of cannabis, I think.’
‘If I found out he was smoking that shit—’
‘Bear, I really don’t think so. He didn’t even seem to be particularly hungover when I got there. He certainly wasn’t off his face on pot or anything else. And I believe him about the gate crashers. He wouldn’t be the first kid it’s happened to.’
‘He’s still in trouble.’
Her phone rang and she hesitated—the number wasn’t familiar. But it could be about her gun. With a quick glance at Bear, she answered.
She heard breathing, a sharp cry. And she knew. Rob.
‘I’m number three. And this is your fault.’
Again the screaming. Mia blanched and held out the phone. Bear took it, listened then put the phone down on the bar.
This is your fault. God. Mia swallowed her drink in four large gulps.
‘What was that?’ Bear asked. ‘You’ve gone white. What was that about?’
‘Rob.’ The combination of the message and the alcohol hitting her empty stomach made her nauseous. She pressed a hand to her forehead. Swallowed back the revulsion. ‘I’ll be back …’ She slipped from her stool, headed for the ladies’ room.
When she emerged, Bear was waiting. ‘I’ll walk you home. You can tell me what’s going on.’
‘It’s all right, Bear. Just some—’
‘Nope. I’m not buying it’s “just” anything. I heard the call, I saw your face, you said “Rob”. Charlie! I’m taking a break,’ he called to another bartender, who waved in acknowledgement.
She pushed through the door and onto the street. ‘You know about Rob,’ she began. ‘Well, now he thinks it’s fun to call me when he … while he …’
‘Demented fuck! Mia, you need to call someone. What’s that detective … Ben?’
‘What’s the point? She’s already dead.’ This was just too much.
‘Give me your phone. I’ll call him.’
She handed it to him without further protest. She knew Ben needed to know. ‘He’ll want the number.’
Bear called him while they walked along the footpath and then handed her phone back. ‘He’s on his way over.’
‘Thanks.’ It made her feel better. And that worried her. She had Bear—she shouldn’t need Ben.
They made it back to the house and Mia unlocked the door. The odour she’d somehow acclimatised to earlier hit her like a wall. Bear followed her in and swore, leaving the door open. ‘Is Dex here?’
‘He’s sleeping.’
‘How? Shit, that’s disgusting. Let’s open some windows.’
‘I did.’
‘Then we’ll sit out on your balcony.’
‘You need to get back. Ben’s coming.’
‘I’ll wait until he gets here.’
When Ben pulled up and parked in the no parking zone outside her house, Mia leant over the balcony. ‘The door’s open. Come up.’
‘Hey.’
‘Hi. Bear, this is Ben. Ben, Bear.’
The men shook hands. Ben sniffed, scowled. ‘Not as bad as before, but still … Did Dex get the toilet unblocked?’
‘I have no idea. What’s happening?’
‘We’re looking into it. Would you come with me, Mia? I know you’ve had a hell of a day, but I want to talk to you about this and I need to be at the station when the information about the caller comes through.’
‘There’s nothing to tell you.’
‘I’d still like to talk to you about it. Why don’t you grab some things before we go?’ Ben suggested. ‘You can’t stay here until it’s properly cleaned. It can’t be healthy.’
She was too tired to drive home and the idea of a nice clean motel room for the night was far from the worst suggestion she’d ever heard. ‘Give me a couple of minutes.’ She left the men and grabbed some basics.
They were standing on the footpath when she returned. She smiled at Bear. ‘Thanks.’
‘You just tell me what those cleaners cost—and the plumber, if you need one. Dex can work it off at the bar.’ He hugged her, nodded at Ben and strode off down the street.
Ben looked her over with concern. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Anyone would be shaken up by those phone calls. If you want to talk to someone about it—’
‘I said I’m all right. Let’s just get this done, it’s been a long day.’
‘I’ll try not to keep you too late. Let’s go.’
They’d just pulled onto the road when the call came through that the woman’s identity and address had been found. Ben passed the station and kept going down the street. Even at this time of night there was traffic on the well-lit roads, people about.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked.
‘You heard the report. I’m going to Lithgow. And my bag’s not in my car.’
‘Bag?’
‘My overnight bag. It usually lives in the boot but I got the car cleaned so I have to go to my place and pick up some things. It’s just on the corner ahead. Why don’t you tell me what happened?’
‘I got a call from a woman, she was upset, she screamed, then Bear took the phone.’
He turned into an underground parking station, and pulled smoothly into a space. ‘And you called straightaway?’
‘Almost.’ She climbed out of the car and followed him into a lift. Several floors later he let her into a modern, spacious, ridiculously tidy apartment. It was white walls and grey carpet, sleek furnishings, uncluttered, sterile. As she walked further in she noticed two perfectly fluffed and placed cushions on the shiny leather lounge.
‘Do you actually live here?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Are you a serial killer?’
‘No. Though there are days … Give me a minute.’
She heard his phone ring as he disappeared into another room. A moment later he returned, off the phone and with a bag. He dropped it at his feet.
His phone rang again. Again he spoke, hung up. As he opened his mouth to talk to her it rang again. He answered, checked his watch, hung up again. ‘They’ve found a body and they think there’s a good chance Rob is still in the area. I need to fly out there and I don’t have much time.’ He raked his fingers over his hair. ‘Would you do me a favour and just crash here for what’s left of the night?’
What? ‘Stay here?’
‘You’ll have the place entirely to yourself. I won’t be back. The bed was made up fresh this morning, there’s clean towels …’ He disappeared, reappeared and handed her one. ‘I’ll run down, grab your bag. Back in a second.’
‘But—’ Did he really expect her to stay in his apartment? It might look like a hotel suite but it wasn’t. It was Ben’s home.
He was already out the door. A minute later he pushed back through it, again on the phone, and handed her bag to her. He stepped past her for his own bag.
‘When you’re ready to leave tomorrow just shut the door. It locks automatically. Thanks, Mia. Bye.’ As he strode purposefully out she heard him speaking into the phone again. ‘I’m headed there right now. Yes. As quick as I can …’
He’d left her in his apartment. Just left her there. She looked around. Not sure what else to do, she gave herself a tour.
She found the bedroom, noted the neatly made bed with white pillows and a simple grey bedspread. The room smelled like his cologne. There was not a speck of dust to be seen. The mirrored wardrobe doors were fingerprint and streak-free. Was this really his place?
The bathroom was equally spotless and in a room she suspected should have been a second bedroom, his clothes were neatly ordered and tidily put away. Maybe he was OCD.
Should she stay? She yawned. It was so late. Where was she going to go?
She walked back into his bedroom and stared at the bed. She wasn’t about to sleep in it—clean or not, it would be too strange, conjure up fantasies that were completely inappropriate. Unwanted. But she had a shower, made herself a cup of tea and cur
led up on the lounge. And fell asleep.
When she woke it took her a few moments to get her bearings. Ben’s place, she remembered, and experienced that whole weird feeling all over again. She should do something. She’d skipped training last night. Then again, she supposed the whole afternoon of manual labour probably made up for missing last night’s workout. She made a coffee—instant, really?—for breakfast and took it out onto a tiny balcony where a single chair sat tucked into a round table. She sat watching the city wake up.
She’d go home, go for a run then hit the studio at nine, work from there. The cleaners were due at eleven, so she’d have to make sure Dex was up and out before they arrived. She went back inside and grabbed her laptop from her bag—while she had her coffee she may as well take care of her emails.
A police siren started up and screamed down the street. She wondered what Ben was doing. He would have had to have seen that body, spoken to the victim’s family or friends, to the experts who would be able to tell him more about the events that had taken place. She wondered how he could do it, how he could walk in and take charge of what most people would do just about anything to avoid. He’d been in a rush last night, but he hadn’t seemed flustered or stressed or dreading what was ahead.
Was it possible to get used to murder? She remembered the screams of those girls and felt her stomach dive. Even the most hardened individual who absorbed themselves in violent murders had to come away feeling the effects of it. Didn’t they?
The sound of her phone made her jump. Ben.
‘Hi.’
‘Good morning. How’d you sleep?’
‘Fine.’
‘Sorry to have dumped you there like that. Everything okay?’
‘Great. I cleaned the place out—the pawn shop gave me top dollar for the big television.’
There was a surprised silence, then, ‘I’ll send in a tactical response team to take you down. Hell, it’s you. Are you armed? I’ll send two.’
‘What do you want me to do with the bodies?’ He laughed like he meant it and she felt herself smiling. ‘Do you often just … leave people in your apartment?’
‘You’d be the first. We were so quick off the mark with this one, we wanted to try to catch Rob in the area.’
