Maggie stepped off the curb, about to cross the road and help the man on the ground, when he scrambled to his feet and staggered, one hand trailing a bloody line along the length of his vehicle.
“Slow down, mate.” Barry followed him to the driver’s door, still holding the bat. “Are you all right?”
The elderly man swayed slightly. “I’m gonna sue you.” The words came out in a slushy stream as he climbed behind the wheel. Ignoring Barry’s offer of help, he gunned the engine and took off, the 4WD fishtailing to the left as the vehicle bounced out of the petrol station.
Barry turned in a circle, arms up in a gesture of disbelief. “Get your fuel and get the fuck out of here.” He pointed the bat at the pop-top driver before storming back inside the petrol station.
Maggie retreated to the pavement. The smell of fumes now mingled with something dank and sour. She thought the odour hanging in the air might be desperation – and fear. As she turned away and moved towards the corner, another horn began beeping. Maggie picked up her pace, resisting the urge to run.
Chapter Thirteen
Harness stepped up to the lectern and turned on the microphone, wincing at a whine of static from the nearby speaker. A spatter of nervous laughter rose and then dried up in a wave of seat shifting and whispers. Ancient yellowed ceiling fans hummed overhead, blades slowly circulating the smell of sweat and coffee. He glanced at the ceiling. The swirling fans together with the heat building up in the stale air made the three cups of instant coffee in his gut churn.
News of the meeting began circulating at a little after eight o’clock that morning with signs posted in most public areas, but the nearly one hundred concerned residents and local business owners occupying the Town Hall had likely heard of the gathering through word of mouth.
Not surprisingly, after six years heading the town’s police force, Harness recognised most of the faces staring back at him. Only unlike other meetings and gatherings, the faces looked washed out and shiny with anxiety. They were waiting for an explanation. Something tangible to blame for the sudden rash of deaths. But what could he really offer apart from inane warnings and vague reassurances? Thorn Tree was a town on the verge of panic. Just driving from the station he’d had to stop and breakup a fight outside the caravan park. Old men ready to throw punches over a minor fender bender. Would anything he said here make a difference?
As he swallowed and leaned towards the microphone, the side door at the rear of the building opened and Maggie entered the hall. He watched her make her way up the centre aisle and sit in an empty row. She wore red, just as she had the other night, only rather than accentuate her creamy skin, the dim lighting in the hall washed her face in artificial light, making her look pale, almost fragile. The hastily rehearsed speech died on his lips and he found himself struggling to draw breath. He’d never had a panic attack but guessed this was what it felt like. The fans whooshed above his head like a flock of angry birds. He took hold of the lectern and clenched his fingers around the sides. Rows of faces stared up at him, some confused, some impatient. Amongst them was Maggie, clearly shaken by what she’d seen on the streets. They were waiting for him to say something.
Mayor Wells, seated to his left, gave a loud stage cough, intended to signal him to get to business. The other two council members sitting next to her nodded their heads in silent agreement as another agonising second passed. Harness turned back to the crowd and fixed his gaze on Maggie. As if sensing something was off, she gave him a nod of encouragement. It was as if the small movement of her head cut through the confusion that clouded his mind, allowing him to focus. The words he’d carefully put together came rushing back.
He took a breath. “Thanks for coming, everyone.” The speakers boomed his voice across the hall. Realising the volume was turned too high, Harness lowered his voice. “Most of you have probably heard that we’ve had a spate of unexplained deaths. We’re not sure of the cause.” He hesitated. “At this stage, it looks like it could be viral—”
“Is it SARS?” Cybil Zolts, a woman with a pinched mouth and sagging jowls, spoke from the front row.
“Why aren’t we being given vaccinations?” A man behind her, who Harness recognised as Andy Smithson, a local plumber, barked out the question.
“I can’t keep my shop closed or I’ll go out of business.” This time a voice came from somewhere near the back row.
Harness slammed his hand on the lectern. The sound echoed like a shotgun through the sound system. Everyone stopped talking.
“Let me finish and then you can ask all the questions you want.” It came out harsher than he’d intended, but it had the desired effect.
“Because we don’t know what we’re dealing with yet, I’ve asked Principal Mike Tolman to close the school.” Harness pointed to Tolman, who turned in his seat near the front and raised his hand in an awkward salute.
Harness nodded and continued. “We’re asking anyone one who owns a business where people congregate to do the same. It will probably only be for a few days, just until we get a handle on this thing.”
He stopped and looked around, registering the shock and fear on people’s faces. An elderly woman in the third row reached for her husband’s hand as if she were watching a horror movie and something was about to jump out of the screen. A situation like this could turn bad fast. People needed to know someone was in control, so he continued before anyone could find their voice to argue. “We have someone coming from the Department of Health to give us advice on how to proceed. Doctor Cole’s surgery will be operating as a flu centre, so that means they’ll only see people with flu symptoms until further notice.” At the mention of flu, a flurry of whispers broke out, spreading through the gathering like a vocal wave.
“I want everyone to stay calm. Stay home. Don’t put yourself in harm’s way. Call everyone you can think of and let them know to do the same. Any questions?”
“Is it swine flu?” Cybil Zolts asked, struggling to her feet. “Cause if it’s swine flu, we should all be given antibiotics.”
“Again, we can’t be certain at this stage what we’re dealing with, just that it looks viral. When we have more information, we’ll let everyone know.”
“This bloke from the Health Department, will he be bringing vaccines?” The question came from Andy Smithson.
Harness sighed and tried to keep his voice even. “As I’ve said, we are not sure what we’re dealing with. At this stage, vaccinations are unlikely.” With the exception of Principal Tolman, Maggie and the elderly couple in the third row, the people before him eyed him with open hostility. They were afraid and looking for someone to blame. It wouldn’t be long before tempers flared.
Right on cue, Cybil Zolts stood, pushing her chair back with a thwomp. “This isn’t good enough. I’ve got health problems.” She planted her fists on her hips and turned to the people behind her. “We should be getting help from Mandurah Hospital. Why isn’t the Health Minister here?”
A ripple of agreement spread through the gathering. “Okay.” Harness leaned into the microphone. “Meeting’s over. Go home.”
“This is a joke.” Andy Smithson jumped to his feet, kicking the chair in front of him and sending it skidding into Cybil Zolts’s meaty knees. The woman let out a porcine grunt and staggered to the left, almost landing in Principal Tolman’s lap. Tolman, forced to grab the woman’s bulky rear end in order to prevent being crushed, reddened with embarrassment. A few people sniggered, but the laughter died as Cybil righted herself and stormed towards the exit.
Harness left the stage and approached Smithson. “I want you out of here before I arrest you for disorderly conduct.” Stepping into the man’s space, Harness towered over the burly plumber.
“What did I do?” Smithson gave Harness a wounded look before following the rapidly departing townspeople out of the building.
Harness watched until the last few citizens left, with the intention of following the crowd outside lest anyone decide to cause trouble. He was
also eager to find Maggie and grab a few minutes with her before heading back to the station. Before he’d made it halfway across the old hall, Agnes appeared at his shoulder.
“Why didn’t you spell it out for them?” Her voice was stony.
“What are you talking about, Agnes?” He pressed the corners of his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. A wave of exhaustion caught him by surprise.
“Voluntary quarantine. That is what you were asking of them, wasn’t it?” She gave a tight smile.
The question took him by surprise, cutting through his weariness and stopping his progress towards the exit. He turned and gave the mayor his full attention. As usual, she wore heavy makeup, bright eye shadow and pink lipstick. The gaudy look was at odds with her conservative grey skirt and white long-sleeved blouse. Even in heels, the elderly woman had to crane her neck to meet his gaze.
“Agnes, if I had used the word quarantine, it would have caused a panic.” He spoke slowly as if she were a child. He could hear the patronising tone in his voice, but felt too exhausted to care.
“Don’t speak down to me, Gibson.” She spat the words out, the forced smile vanished and her already round eyes bulged. “I’ve lived in this town for forty-five years.” As she spoke, Agnes moved closer. “I know these people better than a city boy like you. They need to be panicked and they need to be shocked, or by tomorrow, everything you told them will be forgotten.” Harness was taken aback by her sudden outburst. He’d know Agnes for years and had never seen her like this. In a matter of seconds, she’d gone from cool to maniacal. He took a step back, not out of fear, but the need to put distance between them.
“Calm down.” It came out as a warning. He didn’t want the situation to escalate and he sure as hell didn’t want to have to cuff the old lady and throw her in the lockup. “Listen, Agnes, I’m only going to tell you this once. This is a police matter, you have no authority. I only asked you here as a courtesy. Go home and don’t stir up trouble.”
Agnes held his gaze, her mouth now a thin, pink, angry line cutting an ugly slash across her face.
“You’re making a big mistake, Gibson.” She paused for a second, letting her words sink in before storming across the empty hall, heels clacking like pistons on the old jarrah floor. As she headed for the exit, Agnes pulled her mobile out of her pocket and began punching in numbers.
Probably calling the commissioner. He was anxious to see if Maggie was still around, but forced himself to wait, giving the mayor time to get in her car and hopefully drive away.
Harness turned the fans off and flicked the light switch. When he exited the building, he pulled the door closed and checked that the lock had caught before leaving. To his relief, Maggie had waited for him, leaning her back against his car, arms crossed over her chest. He raised his hand to acknowledge her and she smiled back. Even with her hair tied back and a worry line between her brows, she managed to look striking in red. He smiled, guessing he looked like an idiot with the big goofy grin on his face, but couldn’t help it.
“Hi. I’m glad you waited.” He wanted to kiss her but he wasn’t sure how she’d react.
She continued to lean against the car. “I just wanted to see how you are. Last night, you... well, you seemed a bit upset.”
“I was,” he said, and ran his thumb over his lower lip. “All those kids. I just needed to get away for a while. Sorry if I worried you.”
“Don’t be. I want to help.” She reached for his hand. Her skin was cool and soft; he could see a light sprinkling of freckles on the back of her hand and fought the urge to kiss them.
He searched for something to say. “Where’s your car?”
She let go of his hand and gestured over her shoulder. “I couldn’t get through on Sutton Street so I parked and walked the rest of the way.”
“I’d like to ask you out for dinner, but in light of what’s happening, would you be interested in a lift back to the station and then I could walk you to your car?” He tried to sound casual, but was eager to spend a few extra minutes alone with her. She nodded and within minutes they were in his Jeep, heading for the station.
“How do you think the meeting went?” Maggie asked.
“I would have liked a bigger turnout, but you know how this town works. By tonight everyone will have heard what happened anyway. People were scared, I could see that. I expected it. Mayor Wells wasn’t happy with how I handled it.” He shrugged.
“Why? Did she think it should have been her doing all the talking?” Maggie asked with a note of humour.
“No. But that’s always a possibility with Agnes.” He frowned. “She thought I should have put the frighteners on everyone. You know, get them worried.” In the three minutes it took to drive to the station, he recounted his argument with the mayor.
Harness pulled into his driveway next to the station and turned the car off, waiting for Maggie to speak, a little surprised at how much he suddenly wanted her opinion.
“It doesn’t make any sense,” she said, turning to look at him. “Panic is the last thing we need. People were acting crazy this morning trying to get out of town. How could it help to stir up more fear?”
“Good question. Maybe she’s going a bit batty,” he offered.
“Mm.” Maggie didn’t look convinced.
“Come on,” he said, getting out of the Jeep. “I need to check in before I walk you to your car.”
Harness led Maggie into the surprisingly quiet station. Mark Leary manned the radio and phones while a couple with a little girl waited at the counter. The man looked familiar, but Harness couldn’t quite place him. Leary looked up, relief spreading across the young constable’s face.
“Boss, there’s a message for you from Doctor Cole.” He held a piece of paper up as if to prove the message really existed. He nodded towards the couple. “These people are the Chapels, they’ve been asking to speak to you.”
Harness was eager to find out what the doctor had to tell him, but decided to deal with the Chapels first. Out of habit, he walked around behind the counter before he addressed the couple. To his surprise, they both turned to Maggie.
“I got your message. Is there any more news on Ollie?” the man asked.
“No, I’m waiting to hear from Sandra, Tess’s mother, but nothing yet.”
“When you hear from her, let her know that we’re thinking of them and if they need anything, anything at all, we want to help.”
“Thanks, Lisa.” Maggie touched the woman’s shoulder. “I’ll pass that on.”
It was obvious they all knew each other. It took Harness a second to make the connection. Rodney Chapel was Ollie Becks’s boss and the owner of the Chapel Orchard.
“Was there something you wanted to see me about?” Harness broke in, hoping to move the meeting along so that he could find out what the doctor wanted.
“Yes,” Rodney answered.
“Okay, but we’ll have to make it quick.” Harness didn’t think he needed to explain why. “Come into my office.” Rodney nodded and asked if his little girl could wait at the counter. Harness hesitated.
“I’ll wait with her,” Maggie offered.
“Thanks, Maggie.” Lisa spoke with obvious familiarity before turning to her daughter. “I want you to wait here with Maggie while we go and talk to the police officer. And don’t worry, everything will be okay.” She ran her fingers over one of her daughter’s pigtails.
Harness wondered what the little girl had to worry about as he led the couple to his office. He held the door and motioned for them to sit. As he closed it he heard the little girl’s voice as she spoke to Maggie.
“He really likes you!”
Hoping the parents hadn’t heard, he settled himself on the other side of the desk. Experience had taught him that it was better to let people speak in their own time, let them fill the silence and often say more than they had intended.
Rodney spoke first. “This is a bit awkward. I mean, I know you’re busy, but we just thought you should know
.” He glanced at his wife and she responded with a nod, as if urging him to continue.
“I’m pretty sure I saw a little girl on the road yesterday evening. I didn’t hit her, but she was out in the middle of nowhere during the storm. I swerved to avoid her and nearly rolled the Ute.”
Lisa Chapel sucked in a breath. Her husband paused and looked down. Harness guessed he hadn’t shared the part about nearly rolling the Ute with her until that moment.
“What happened then?” Harness prompted.
Rodney ran his hand through his slightly receding sandy hair. He was a sturdy-looking man, well-muscled and tanned from years of outdoor manual work.
“Then she was gone.” He sounded mystified by his own words. “I looked everywhere and I couldn’t find her. When I got back to the Ute, one of the back tyres was all torn up.” He stopped and looked at his wife. Harness couldn’t be sure, but her thought something passed between them.
Lisa took over. She was younger than her husband, maybe mid-thirties, slim with blonde hair and intelligent blue eyes which she fixed on Harness.
“My daughter, Annabel, she’s seen a girl hanging around our property at night and yesterday during the storm.” She stopped and glanced at her husband.
Harness could tell they were holding something back or leaving something out. He waited, but it was clear that they’d finished and were waiting for him to speak.
“So, Mrs. Chapel...”
“Lisa,” she said.
“Lisa, you think there’s a lost child wandering around on your property?” He kept his tone neutral. The Chapels were concerned and he didn’t want to sound dismissive.
“Yes, I do. Or at least someone hanging around that shouldn’t be there.”
“Okay.” Harness picked up his pen. “Can you give me a description?”
This time Rodney answered. “Small, skinny, and wearing a ratty dress.”
Harness stopped writing and stared at the couple. He considered himself pretty good at reading people. Over his many years on the force he’d probably had hundreds if not thousands of people stare him in the face and lie, but the Chapels didn’t come across as liars or nuts – just hardworking people who appeared genuinely worried.
The Stone Flowers Page 9
